The back of my knees hit the bed, and I plunked onto my butt.

“We can stop right now.”

Resting back on my elbows, I shook my head. “I just don’t want it to be wrong.”

“Well …” He twisted his lips. “Sorry. I can make it good, but I can’t make it right in your head.”

“I want …” I bit my lip and searched for the right words. “I want it like last night.”

He squinted one eye. “No fucking way.”

Swallowing, I frowned. “I want to …”

Feel like we’re having sex, even if you won’t actually have it with me!

“I want it like last night or … more,” I said with defeat to my voice. At that point, I was already dirty. Would finishing the job before taking a spiritual shower really have made that much of a difference?

“Despite you being naked on my bed, despite you incessantly wetting your lips while staring at my erection …”

Busted!

I cut my gaze straight to his, grinning with admission that he caught me gawking at his tented shorts.

“I’m not taking your virginity. I had a little talk with myself about it, and we—me and my moderately well-honed conscience—decided to pass on the offer. I don’t feel worthy of it.”

“Worthy of it?” I coughed a laugh. “You mean to tell me you’ve never taken someone’s virginity?”

“I didn’t say that.” He grabbed my leg, forcing me onto my back while he brought my foot to his mouth and kissed the pad of my big toe.

“Why? You can’t say that and not have an explanation. Why was it okay then?”

“Because it wasn’t some crowned jewel. It wasn’t a prized possession. There was no hesitation. No chanting ‘this is so wrong.’”

I frowned.

“I can’t give it back, Reese. If or when you have second thoughts or regret, I can’t give it back to you.”

“So you’d rather borrow someone’s used sanitary napkin?”

Dropping my foot to the bed, he ran a hand through his hair. “Um … what?”

I sat up and crisscrossed my legs, covering my breasts in my cupped hands. “My grandma used to say that not having your virginity to give your husband was like borrowing someone’s used sanitary napkin on your wedding night.”

Fisher blinked slowly for several silent seconds. “I … I don’t even know how to respond to that. Were you … raised in a cult? What the fuck? Who says that?”

I winced, feeling a little defensive. It wasn’t that I believed my grandma, but I didn’t like him insinuating that she was crazy or some cult member.