“Okay,” I said happily, shuffled my bottom in his lap, settling in, and I began.

“There was Dave. He was a sex pervert. Wanted me to go to swingers parties with him and had a huge collection of  p**n . He tried to convince me this was perfectly normal, which, I’ll grant it is but it wasn’t my scene. He ignored me telling him it wasn’t my scene and he got pushy then he got pouty then he got angry then he started being mean to me so I kicked him out.”

Luke was silent but he moved, he fell to his side and stretched out on the couch. During this he took me with him. I was so intent on my story, his actions barely registered and I just stretched out too.

“Before him, there was Rick. He was hot. Seriously. He knew it though. He cheated on me right off the bat, wasn’t good at hiding it probably because he knew I’d put up with it. I did, because I was so into him but warned him not to do it again, full of piss and vinegar and thinking he just strayed. He did it again, I found out again we had a rip-roarin’ and he promised never to do it again. Which, in like a month he did. Three strikes, he was out.”

Luke was still silent and since I was sharing (and still drunk) I didn’t notice that, even in his silence, he was communicating to me, communicating something that should have made me keep my mouth shut. He moved under me like he did in bed so that for a few seconds I was on top of him. Then he slid to his side so his back was to the room mine to the couch. Through all this, I kept blabbing.

“Then there’s Dom, you know about him. Then there’s my sister Marilyn’s first husband, who was a slimeball cheat and a drunk. I think he might have slapped her around a bit but she would never say. I saw her once with a black eye and she said she fell down the stairs. A, they didn’t have stairs at their house and B, how do you get a black eye by falling down stairs?”

Luke didn’t answer. I kept gabbing.

“Then there’s Marilyn’s second husband who made her first husband look like a choirboy. Total slimeball. I don’t like Marilyn ‘cause she’s kind of a bitch but I truly think she loved her first husband and it hurt when he f**ked her over. She’s my sister, even though I don’t want to hurt, I hurt when she hurts. Do you know what I mean?”

I didn’t wait for him to reply (not that he would have), I was on a roll so I just kept talking.

“Then there’s Dad, you know all about that. He never came back, never called, never sent a card, nothing. Not when I turned sixteen, when I graduated from high school or college, nothing. Disappeared. Gone.”

I realized belatedly where I was and what position I was in but I didn’t care, it was rather comfy really so I went on.

“Noah was hot too, really handsome and I thought totally into me. He was super sweet, bought me flowers, shit like that. Acted like there was no other woman in the world but me. At first I wasn’t into him, after Dave, well, you can guess. But he worked at it hard, convinced me he was a good guy. I fell for it. All that time, he was planning on screwing me over. Not nice. He left, cleaning me out, and still I felt like a moron. Rat-bastard.”

I sighed, searching my memory banks for more jerks to dredge up, found I was empty, looked Luke in the eyes and decided it was time to sum up.

“So you see, men suck. They’re all jerks. I vowed never to get caught up with one again. Ever. Ever. Ever. That brings us to now. That’s why you and I can’t get together because I’m not going through that again. Once I help Sissy get revenge on Dominic Dickhead, no more men in my life, ever. And that’s also why you need to send me an invoice. I don’t mind paying, really. Noah didn’t get the inheritance money Aunt Ella gave me, I’m not loaded but I’m also not hurting –”

“Babe,” Luke finally spoke.

“What?” I asked.

“You can shut up now.”

I blinked then I thought maybe that was a good thing. “Okay,” I agreed then I asked, “So, are we square?”

“You owed me triple, that was the first part, I’m gonna tell you the next part and I’m keepin’ one in reserve.”

“What’s next?” I asked, thinking this was easy, in fact thinking that hadn’t been hard at all. I thought it would be but after six Fat Tires and two shots of tequila, it had been totally cool.

Luke’s arms, which had been loosely holding me, tightened so I was pressed to him full frontal. He also threw his thigh over my legs. Normally, I would have seen this as the warning sign it was. After six Fat Tires and two shots of tequila, I missed it.

Then he spoke. “The next part you pay is letting me cuff you na**d to my bed and you stay that way while I eat you ‘til you come and then f**k you ‘til you come again.”

“Holy shit,” I breathed aloud, which was a feat considering the fact that my lungs had seized.

He didn’t allow me to process his demand, he kept talking. “Not tonight, not when you’re shitfaced. I want you clearheaded when I do that to you. Tonight, after your rubdown, I’ll f**k you normally. Tonight, I want your hands and mouth on me.”

It took me a few seconds to pull myself out of the complete and utter shock his brutally honest (and unbelievably sexy if my hard ni**les had anything to say about it) words caused.

Not to mention this was Luke Stark talking to me, Fatty, Fatty, Four-eyed Ava Barlow. It was so incomprehensible he would say such things I thought there was a good possibility that Satan had ordered a fur coat.

“Didn’t you hear anything I just said?” I asked.

“I heard it.”

“No more men.”

“I heard it.”

“That includes you.”

“Did you bring lotion with you?”

I shook my head at what I thought was his strange question, tried to pull away and didn’t get anywhere. So, I narrowed my eyes. “Why do you want to know?”

“Rubdown.”

“Luke, you aren’t rubbing me down.”

His hands moved, one went up my back, his fingers sifting into my hair, one went down to rest on my bottom.

“We could go straight to the sex,” his mouth came to mine but his eyes were open and watching me. I saw the warmth there, but there was something else, something I couldn’t put a finger on, something assessing. Before I could figure it out, he continued. “That will work out the kinks.”

“I’m sleeping on the couch.”

“You’re sleeping beside me.”

“I’m sleeping on the couch.”