Page 471 of Devil’s Disciples

“Not that kind of issue, smart ass.” He tapped the tip of his finger against his temple. “Issues up here.”

I was confused. “Your brain?”

“Brain. Mind. Whatever you want to call it.”

I gave him a look. “Your brain won’t let you have sex with me?”

“I won’t let me have sex with you.”

I flopped into the seat across from him. “I’ve always found men confusing, but you’re the worst. You talk in circles.”

“I’m not talking in circles, I’m stating facts.”

Other than the spur of the moment sex with Reno, I’d had sex with one man, Angel. Sex with him was frequent, always rough, and never included any means of communication before or after, short of grunting. It was never about pleasure.

I wondered if something was wrong with me. “You didn’t like it?”

“I loved it.”

“It felt good?”

He grinned. “It felt great.”

If it felt good and he enjoyed it, all he needed was a push. I decided to give him a shove. I chuckled out a laugh. “You can’t get it up.”

His eyes shot wide. “Excuse me?”

It was clear that my claim hit a nerve. I decided to continue. “You can’t get it up,” I taunted. “That’s your issue, right?”

His face flushed ruby red. “It sure as fuck isn’t.”

“Okay.” I pushed myself away from the table. “Whatever.” I looked at his empty plate and then at him. “Are you done? Do you want your check?”

He laughed. “You’ve got a temper.”

I did. It was awful. Oftentimes, it got me into trouble. Nevertheless, it was none of Reno’s business, especially if he wasn’t willing to tell me the truth about why he wouldn’t fuck me.

“No, I don’t,” I insisted.

“Yes, you do.”

“What does that have to do with anything?” I asked. “We’re talking about you not being able to get your dick hard. Don’t change the subject.”

He pushed his beer bottle to the side and rested his forearms on the edge of the table. “You don’t like it that I can’t fuck you, and you’re trying to tease me into having sex with you.”

“You can’t fuck me?” I leaned away from the table and arched an eyebrow. “That’s your new story?”

“I can.” His gaze lowered. “I won’t.”

Knowing that bit of information made matters worse. I wondered if he was married or in a committed relationship. I felt foolish for allowing him to break my sexual hiatus when I was sleep-deprived and mentally weakened to the point I couldn’t resist him.

“Are you married?” I asked.

“It’s not that.” He leaned away from the table and looked away. After a moment, he met my gaze. “I’ve got a rule. Sex one time, and that’s it.”

I stared back at him for thirty seconds or so, at a complete loss for words. Then, the only response worthy of being said came to me.

“That’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever heard in my life,” I said.