Page 47 of Counting On You

Without waiting for my invitation, he sits down next to me, his thigh brushing mine. My body stiffens.

He’s too close—so close I can smell the manly blend of his aftershave.

My skin prickles. My lungs fight against the sudden lack of oxygen. I can feel him with every fiber of my body. My skin is tingling, catching fire under his burning gaze. My shallow breathing comes so loud, I’m sure he can hear it.

“Okay, so don’t laugh,” he starts, his magnetic eyes piercing through me. “With so much time on my hands, I feel like I have to get productive before I go crazy. I’ve been thinking about writing a book about sex experiences. Not just mine, but in general. Do you think people would be interested in reading it?”

His casual tone helps me relax a little. I brush a hand over my skirt before I reply.

“I don’t know,” I say earnestly. “Why do you think I might know what other people want to read?”

“I just thought you could answer the question, considering that you read books.”

A laugh escapes my throat. His reasoning makes no sense whatsoever. “Me? I’m not interested in porn. Because that’s exactly what you would write, right?”

If he caught the subtle insult, he doesn’t react to it.

“No. More along the lines of a sex-help book. You know, share a little of my wisdom, spice up personal lives, and help people have fuller experiences.”

“Obviously, you’re talking about your perception,” I say, and add at his confused expression. “I mean, how do you even know if you’re good in bed and that your girlfriends feel the same way?”

His eyes narrow and the air between us cools down a few degrees. “Because I am.”

A hot blush shoots up my neck and spreads to my cheeks.

I should so shut up right now. And yet I just can’t keep my mouth closed.

“Yeah, but how do you know they’re not faking it?”

“I could show you, and then you could communicate your opinion on the matter,” Kade says coolly.

My heart stops. Literally stops, only to jolt back into action faster than before. Of course he would suggest something like this.

He’s a sex addict, Vicky. What did you expect?

He catches my expression and his lips break out in a gorgeous smile. “I’m joking. I didn’t mean it in a literal way.”

That stings a little bit, which is irrational given that Idon’twant him to want to sleep with me.

“Why don’t you ask another sex addict?” I ask. “Surely there’s someone better suited than me to answer the question.”

He shakes his head slowly. “There isn’t, or I wouldn’t be asking you. Haven’t you noticed that most sex addicts in this place are male? And the few female ones are out of my preferred age range.”

I shake my head. “Still, why me?”

“As I said, you’re the literary kind. I also really want my first reader to be…well, you know when you said you were a rebel?”

“Actually, you said that.”

He nods his head. “I need someone like that. I need someone who’s brutally honest and can communicate it as it is. That’s you. The snarky one. Did you know your name Vicky comes from Viking?”

I want to point out that I’m anything but snarky and my name has nothing to do with Vikings, but I just bite my tongue lest I confirm his assumption that I might be a bit snarky.

“Okay.” I shift in my seat. “Before I answer, let me get something off my chest. I have two concerns. First, I’m not sure you ought to write a book when you haven’t finished therapy yet. You getting treated for your sex addiction while trying to help others with their sex life, isn’t that a bit of a paradox?”

“Possibly. I definitely see your point.” He nods his head again, his eyes scanning my face. “So, will you read it?”

I groan. “Will you leave me alone if I say yes?”

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