Talon

He shrugs cluelessly. "Around that time. Give or take a week."

Shaking my head, I stand and walk away from the table. I can't believe he slept with another girl just a few weeks ago. Part of the process was that we were supposed to stop sexual relations with others when we found out our partner was a definite and the wedding date was set. We knew that three months ago.

He stands up and follows me to where I'm standing at the window. "What's wrong now?"

I continue to stare out the window at the lake where we had our pictures taken last night. The first place we kissed. "You knew about me then. You knew we had a wedding date already."

"Well, yeah, but I didn't know you. I just knew it was gonna happen."

I finally turn to stare up at him. "And that wasn't enough?"

He throws his hands up. "I don't know, I didn't even think about it in that way. I was just doing my usual shit."

"That's great," I scoff.

"It was just sex with some groupies. It didn't mean anything. It never means anything. We have sex and they leave. That's it," he says defensively.

"That's awful!" He said groupies. That’s multiple girls.

I walk away from him and flop onto the couch, crossing my arms over me. I feel sick to my stomach thinking about him having sex with all sorts of women while we were supposed to be thinking about getting married and committing to this process in every way. I was so excited when I found out they had my match picked and I was technically considered engaged. All I could think about was finally meeting him. I daydreamed constantly about what he would look like, how he would act, how we would fall in love at first sight.

Meanwhile, he was screwing groupies with no thought or care about me at all.

"Well, sorry, babe, but that’s how it's always been for me."

"Stop calling me babe! You call everyone babe."

"Sorry." He kneels down on the floor in front of me, but I refuse to look at him. "Are you jealous?"

"No!" Maybe a little. "I was just hoping my future husband would show some restraint and commit to everything, like we were supposed to."

"Okay, I fucked up a little. I won't do it again. I promise."

"Does Dr. Hollister know about this?"

He shrugs again. "I dunno. I didn't tell her."

"She probably would have kicked you out of the experiment if she knew."

"Too late now. Here we are."

I want to kick him. "Here we are?" I repeat. "What about the tests? How do I know you're clean now?"

His voice rises defensively. "I don't have any diseases. I was tested two weeks ago. Again. And I always wear protection."

I twirl my finger around in the air. "Oh, yay!" I say sarcastically.

"So when's the last time you did, Miss Perfect?"

"Did what?"

"Had sex with someone."

Shit. I don't want to tell him the truth about that now, or he'll think I'm a freak for sure. "That's none of your business, but it was definitely not a month ago. I followed all the rules."

He twirls his finger in the air, mocking me. "Yay for you. So tell me when."

"No."

His lips curve into a slightly evil smile. "Tell me or I'll tickle you."

I shake my head. "No. It was longer than three months; that's all you need to know."

Before I can move, he lunges at me and starts tickling my sides, sending me into a fit of giggles. I am wickedly ticklish. I can't believe he's figured it out in less than a day and has used it twice now to break me. I grab at his hands. "Stop! Please!" I beg, laughing uncontrollably. He completely overpowers me with his size and muscle and pulls me onto the floor, kneeling over me, holding my hands in his at my sides.

"You can't tickle me every time you want to get your way," I exclaim, trying to catch my breath.

His hair falls down over his face as he smiles down at me. "Yes, I can." Even though he's straddling me, it doesn't go unnoticed that he's careful not to crush me. It also doesn't go unnoticed that his muscular thighs around my body put me in a position where I can't ignore the thick bulge evident beneath the thin faded jeans he's got on. Hot damn.

"Tell me," he prods again, still holding my hands.

"It's been a long time." I divert my gaze from his package and stare up into his face instead.

"How long?"

Sighing, I shift my attention over toward the windows. "Three years."

"Three fucking years?" he repeats loudly in disbelief. "How the hell are you even alive?"

"Ha-ha," I say, squirming. "Let me go, please."

"Not yet. First, tell me why so long?"

I glare up at him. "Do you really have to embarrass me like this?"

"I'm not trying to embarrass you at all. I'm just trying to get to know you and figure you out."

"I haven't had a relationship in a long time, and I've had really bad luck dating lately. I told you, I don't jump into bed with men just for sex, so…it's been three years. Happy now?"

Kneeling down over me and bringing our hands up over my head on the floor, his face is inches from mine, his long, loose hair tickling my face. "I can fix that for you," he offers, pressing his hard cock between my parted thighs. My pulse quickens while my long-forgotten pussy quivers from just that slight pressure of him against me.

"I thought I wasn't what you wanted." My voice cracks, betraying my efforts to hide the fact he's starting to get to me.

"I thought so too." He lets go of one of my hands and slides his free hand down my arm, then over my ribs, brushes the slight curve of my hip, and finally grabs my outer thigh, pulling me against him. "But my body apparently wants you…and I think yours wants me too."

A little gasp escapes my throat. "I want more than that," I breathe, wanting that and so much more now.

He nuzzles his face into my neck, his teeth gently nipping me, and I fight the urge to wrap my legs around him.

"It's eleven inches, baby. How much more do you want?"

"Ugh!" I push him off me and he rolls over onto the floor on his back, laughing. "It's not funny," I say, slapping his arm.

"I'm just kidding."

"How do you know it's eleven inches, anyway?"

"I measured it. We can do a recount if you want. Call the front desk and ask for a ruler."

I shake my head and suppress my laughter. "Can you try to be serious for a minute?"

He sits up and leans against the couch, trying to force himself to stop laughing. "All right. I'll be serious," he says, pursing his lips together and looking pretty ridiculous. His hair is all rumpled, so I hesitantly reach out and comb it down with my fingers.

"I've been thinking about some of this," I begin. "And we're obviously at opposite ends of the spectrum with sex. You said it's all women want you for, and that for you, it's just sex. But for me, it's the opposite. I can't have sex without emotions being there. I think that’s part of our challenge here: for you not to have sex until there are some real feelings involved, and for me to show you that you're more than just a good lay."

He blinks sheepishly. "Ya think?"

"I do."

"That seems like a lot of work, and it could totally backfire. Why would they do that to us?"

"Maybe so we learn to appreciate each other?"

"But what if the feelings never happen, for either of us?"

That's exactly what I'm worried about because I simply cannot see us falling in love. Being friends and having fun, maybe. But falling in love? I can't picture it.

"Then it's not meant to be," I murmur sadly.

"So then, no sex?"

I playfully smack him again. "Exactly. No sex."

"Ever?" he asks incredulously.

I stand up and straighten out my clothes. "Let's not think about that. I think we should focus on our first task of figuring out where we're going to live."

Chapter 11

Talon

"This is yours?" she asks in disbelief when I lead her to my truck in the hotel parking lot.

"Yup." My latest toy is a black Ford F-150 pickup truck with a fourteen-inch lift kit, forty-inch tires, and skulls airbrushed down the sides.

"A monster truck? Is this legal to be on the street?" She peers up at the truck, her head barely reaching the door.

I take her bag from her hand and throw it in the back of the truck. We asked the concierge to have the wedding gown boxed and shipped to my condo because it's too big and ruffly to cart around. "Of course it is," I reply, opening the passenger door for her. "Get in, milady."

She stares up at the inside of the truck and then back at me. "Talon. I can't even get my leg up there. How am I supposed to get in?"

Well, shit, she's right. Her legs are too short to reach the doorframe. I wrap my hands around her tiny waist and lift her up into the seat effortlessly. "I'll get running boards and a step, baby. Simple fix."

I run around the front of the truck and climb in behind the wheel. "Or I'll just drive the Beemer when you're with me. No big deal."

"You have a BMW too?"

I nod and light up a cigarette as I start the truck and pull out of the lot. "Yeah. It's much lower to the ground."

She looks out the windshield, wide-eyed at the traffic around us, clinging to the armrest on her door. "Holy shit. We're so high up. You can totally drive right over the other cars."

"If we wanted to, hell yeah, I could."

She giggles. "Let's not do that."

The team gave us a guideline sheet we're supposed to follow, and the first order of business is to move in together, whether we move in to one of our own homes together, or get an entirely new place to live. The latter is my preference since I live in a condo with my brother, and we sure as hell wouldn't have any privacy as a couple living with him. We're supposed to check out each other’s places before we decide, though, so we stop at my place first.