Page 74 of Mr. Swoony

“I have something to tell you, and I hope you’re not mad,” he says. “I wasn’t going to say anything, but it’s all I can think of, and I feel guilty for it.”

My stomach clenches. “Now you’re scaring me.”

He sips his drink. “When I was packing the truck, your tote turned upside down.”

I wave him off. “Oh, there’s nothing breakable in there. I’m sure it’s fine.” I touch his upper arm, but he’s still tense.

He concentrates on my hand on his bicep, then lifts his gaze to me. “A list fell out.”

My smile dies a swift death, plummeting with my stomach to the floor. “Oh.”

He nods. “Yeah.”

“Excuse me while I drown myself in my drink.” I pick up my vodka tonic, ready to down it and then consume the entire bar until I blackout and forget this moment.

Conor lays his hand over the top of my glass and pulls it away from me. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to snoop or anything.”

“Now you really have to show me your list.” My cheeks feel as if they’re on fire.

He chuckles. “Done. I’ll show it to you tonight. Although it’s not nearly as intriguing as this new list of yours.”

I push him in the shoulder and leave the bar, going to stare out the window at Lake Michigan. “I have no idea how I haven’t died of mortification in the past month.”

He comes up next to me, so close his shoulder brushes my bare one. “I have to know though, have you really never come from oral?”

A strangled cry rushes up my throat. “Do these windows open?” I press my hands onto the glass.

His knuckles run along my arm until his hand is in mine. “Come here.” He guides me over to the couch. “Sit down.”

“Do I have to?” I groan.

He sits facing me, his knees hitting mine. “Don’t be embarrassed.”

“You’d be cool if I read your sex bucket list? If you never came while a girl gave you a blow job?”

He tries to hide his laugh but loses the battle. “The fact that you haven’t come from oral sex isn’t something to be ashamed of. It’s not your fault. It’s the weak-ass partners you’ve been choosing.”

“Let me guess, you’re up for the challenge?” I arch an eyebrow.

“You have no idea how badly I want to rip that dress off you, pin you to the bed, and make you scream my name because of what I’m doing with my tongue.”

A rush of adrenaline bolts through my veins with the thought of him being rough with me, taking what he wants.

“And stop blushing because that’s only getting me more turned on.” He stands abruptly from the couch. “Fuck, finding that list is killing me.”

“Am I supposed to apologize for that?”

He swipes his drink off the bar and turns around. “Fuck no. But if you thought I was all over you to complete your other list, you have no idea how badly I want to lock these doors and help you put a checkmark next to each item on your sex list.”

“Well, I don’t think there’s a washing machine here, so…”

His eyes widen. “I didn’t see that one.” He takes another swig of his drink before dropping the empty glass onto the bar top.

“I have to have sex on a washing machine.”

“Fuck me.” He grabs a bottle of vodka.

I wiggle, using the armrest of the couch to help me get up with this tight dress on. “Why are you so frazzled?”