Free Intoxicated by Jeana E. Mann

to love,” she said with a sigh. She took the wine bottle and swallowed a mouthful. It was dry and fruity with a smoky aftertaste that went well with the cheeses.  
    “Bullshit. No one’s immune to it. It’s like air. We can’t live without it. It’s the most sought after commodity in the world. People kill in the name of it. Wars have been fought over it. Desperate people try to buy it. There are songs and books and movies written about it. So don’t try to feed me that crap. You’re no different than anyone else.”
    “And what about you? Have you ever fallen in love?”
    “Every damn day of the week and twice on Sundays. Problem is… I fall out of love the next morning.” The elusive dimples appeared in his cheeks. “You’re trying to change the subject.”
    “I’m not. I think we’re talking about two different things. I’m talking about love and you’re talking about sex.”
    “Depends on your definition of love, I guess. You can have one without the other, you know. Haven’t you ever had sex just for the sake of sex? No strings? No expectations? A little heat between the sheets?”
    “No. I haven’t.” She’d never even considered the notion. The admission seemed silly in front of a guy who made a sport out of promiscuity.  
    He traced the curve of her jaw with a finger and leaned in to kiss her. His lips brushed against hers, the tip of his tongue touching and teasing her tongue. The playful kiss brought a rush of blood to her cheeks. When he pulled back, he said, “You don’t need a relationship to have sex. Sometimes it’s better that way.”
    “You just don’t get it.” She sighed and rolled her eyes up to the thick canopy of branches overhead, seeking divine intervention and finding nothing but a cloudless evening sky streaked with tones of pink and lavender. “I wasted eight years of my life on someone with that exact mentality. Why in God’s name would I repeat the same mistake? I can’t take another humiliation like that.”  
    She scooted away from him, seeking to put a few inches of daylight between his thigh and hers. He tightened his grip on her hand and pulled her back to him.
    “Where are you going? Get back over here.” She acquiesced and had to admit that it felt good to sit next to him with his hand on her thigh as if she belonged there. “I am nothing like that douche bag and it pisses me off that you think so.” He placed a forefinger under her chin and tipped her face up to his, dark eyes narrowed. “He played you. He lied to you and cheated on you. He made promises that he had no intention of keeping. I, on the other hand, have been nothing but straight up from the start. I’m not promising you anything but a night that you will never forget.”
    She swallowed hard. He wasn’t kidding. The dark eyes bored into hers, unblinking and serious. Her heart kicked against her ribs. One night of sin with Jack. No commitment. No promises. Just hot, sweaty, headboard-banging sex. The notion sucked every bit of moisture from her mouth and sent blood roaring into her nether parts. Only a fool would turn down an offer like that. She might be a lot of things, but stupid wasn’t one of them.
      “Well?”
    “Interesting points, all of them,” she said, stalling for time while she gathered her wits. Sweat trickled between her breasts. The breeze had dissipated and left the atmosphere humid and heavy. The excellent wine intensified the heat.
    “Well?” he repeated. “Any objections?”
    “Yes, a few,” she replied, still breathless. “First, I don’t want to be one of your sad little groupies.” He said nothing but a muscle ticked in his jaw. “Second…,” she paused to gather her courage and he interrupted.
    “May I rebut each point as we go?” he asked politely. She nodded. “Great. Well, you wouldn’t be one of my sad little groupies, as you call them, unless you wanted to be. That’s on them not me. I don’t ask them to make fools out of themselves.