Bedding the Wrong Brother(10)

Not this time. “Sort of.”

“‘Sort of’ is a wimpy answer.”

She pounded the sofa cushion with her fist. “Okay, I do.”

“Let me guess. He's an academic?”

“Well, of course. The sex thing is necessary in the beginning—”

“And in the middle and end,” Max said drolly.

“—but after that, we need commonality to build on. I mean, he's not just smart. He's sexy, too. And he's interested in me. There's a conference next week that we're going to be presenting at—”

Max eyes widened in that expression of disbelief again. “You're presenting at a conference? Since when? The last time you tried speaking at a public event, you almost passed out.”

“Thank you for that reminder,” she gritted out, but without much heat. He was right. She didn't do well in the spotlight. At the workshop Max was talking about, she'd stepped up to the podium only to become paralyzed with terror. She'd morphed from confident scientist into Cindy Brady, staring at a blinking red camera light despite the audience surrounding her. It wasn't an experience she'd ever sought to repeat again. That's why she'd chosen research in the safety and anonymity of her lab. That's what she was used to. That's what she was comfortable with. But with Jamie, things were different. He'd urged her to come out of her shell, and, surprisingly, she'd agreed, confident that he would step up if it was too much for her. That alone must mean something, shouldn't it? “Anyway, Jamie shouldn't be as hard to please as…say, you or Rhys would be. If you could just do me this favor…” Horror overcame her. “I mean, you kissed me once. I know it didn't mean anything but…well, the idea…it doesn't, well, gross you out, does it?”

“What? Of course not.” But he was looking panicked now. His hand moved to rub the back of his neck. “It's just, I don't want you thinking there's anything wrong with you. You're just, you're just—”

“An amateur?” she suggested.

“Well, I was going to say selective, but given the men you've chosen, you obviously haven't been picking from the cream of the crop.”

“What's that supposed to mean?”

“Please. I've met the guys.”

“They were all smart. Influential. Okay, so they're not tall and handsome and fly to London to perform for the queen, but—”

“They were pansies. And it sounds like this guy you want to bang is a pansy, too.”

“He is not a pansy. And the others were just uninspired.”

“Melina—”

She shook her head. “Tell me the truth. You go for experienced women. Women who know how to please you in bed.”

“Well, sure, but—”

“In the insect world, bugs mate for one reason and one reason only, because they get something out of it. I want a mate, Max. I want to know how to keep one. So, if it doesn't disgust you to be with me, can you please do me this favor?”

He seemed to think about it. “Why me? Why not Rhys?”

Because I'm not safe with Rhys, she thought. Not the way I am with you. With Rhys, assuming that he would even agree to it, it wouldn't be about simple biology, learning positions and technique, or walking away when the session was over. With Rhys, she'd lose herself. She'd start believing in unicorns and flying dragons and mutual passion leading to lifelong happiness. She'd want more than she could have. “Why Rhys and not you?” she hedged.

“Come on, Melina. We both know that of the two of us, I'm the bastard. I'm the…the—”

“Man whore?”

He cleared his throat. “Again, I was going to say least discriminating.”

“Be that as it may, you've never left me hanging just so you could get laid.” She held up her hand. “I know you're always trying to make excuses for Rhys's behavior that night, but it was lame. And you were there for me, just like you've always been. If that's not enough reason, the fact that you have the most experience is another point in your favor, right?”

He looked at her oddly. “Quantity doesn't necessarily equate to quality. Believe me, Rhys knows what he's doing.”

The image of Rhys doing anything to her made her nerves tingle in interesting places and had her thighs clenching together. “Look, are you going to do it?” Do me, she amended internally. “Or not?”