“Blond. Tall. Fake boobs?” she asked, clearly remembering. I took a small bit of pleasure knowing she was paying close enough attention even then to remember my date nearly two years later.

“That’s her. And she was . . .” I sighed, remembering my complete apathy that entire evening. “She was nice enough. But she wasn’t you. I was obsessed with you, but in a really f**ked-up way. I loved finding ways to push your buttons just to see you react to me for a second. I loved getting a rise out of you, because I think it meant that I was the focus of your thoughts for a moment, however rage-filled.”

She laughed again, stretching to kiss my neck, sucking lightly. “Psychopath.”

“That night,” I continued, ignoring her, “you were getting a drink at the bar, and I walked up to you and made some crack—I don’t even remember now what it was I’d said. But I’m sure it was nasty, and unnecessary.” I closed my eyes, remembering her face, how she stared at me blankly, without even a trace of interest. “You looked at me and then laughed before taking your drink and just walking away. It f**king wrecked me, I think, though I didn’t really get that until later. I was used to seeing you react to my jabs with a tiny hint of hurt feelings, anger, or frustration. But to see absolutely nothing but indifference . . . f**k. That was it for me.”

“I don’t remember what you said, either,” she admitted. “But I’m sure it took a lot of effort for me to look unaffected.”

“We left not long after that. Amber and I.” I smoothed a hand up Chloe’s body, over her breast to her face. I looked her in the eye and admitted, “I f**ked her. But it was awful. You kept barging into my head. I would close my eyes and imagine what it would be like to touch you. I tried to imagine the sounds you would make when you’d come, how you would feel. That’s when I came. I bit the pillow to keep from saying your name.”

She exhaled sharply, and I realized she’d been holding her breath. “Did you go to her place or yours?”

I looked away from where my fingers ran over her jaw and met her eyes again. How was that relevant? “Hers. Why?”

Shrugging, she whispered, “Just curious.”

I continued to study her and could see the wheels turning, some private curiosity growing in her thoughts.

Bending to kiss her ear, I asked, “What are you thinking, little devil?”

She smiled up at me, caught. “I was wondering . . . what position you were in.”

Ice trickled into my bloodstream. “Do you like hearing about this because you want to imagine me with another woman?”

She shook her head immediately, eyes darkening. Her hands turned into tight fists around the knot of my shirt above her head. “I like hearing how you were thinking about me. I just . . . want to hear about it.”

“I was on top of her, like this,” I murmured, wary. “We only had sex that one time. I’m sure she found me wholly unimpressive as a lover.”

She wiggled, adjusting the position of her hands in their soft binding, watching me. Thinking, thinking, thinking. “Before you had sex with her,” she said, eyes on my mouth. “When you got back to her place. Did she go down on you?”

Shrugging, I admitted, “I think so. A little.”

“And did you?”

“Taste her?” I asked and Chloe nodded. “No,” I said. “I didn’t.”

“Did you wear a condom?”

“I always wore a condom,” I said, laughing. “Well, before you.”

She smiled and rolled her eyes. “Right.” But then her legs slid up around my waist. “Before me.” All I needed to do was shift my hips slightly and I would be able to press inside her. Yet somehow, talking about this naked and over her felt perfect. We had no secrets. “Did she come?” she asked.

Sighing, I admitted, “She faked it.”

Chloe laughed, head pressed back into the pillow so she could see me better. “You’re sure?”

“Positive. It was an impressive effort if not a bit over-the-top.”

“Poor girl didn’t know what she was missing then.”

“It was only a few days before the conference room,” I whispered, kissing the corner of her mouth. “I think I was probably already in love with you. So when I think back to that night with Amber, it feels as though I cheated. Given how you found me tonight—blindfolded, passively accepting an erotic dance—I want to air all of my potential sins. I guess that’s why I’m talking about Amber now.”