“How have you only slept with one person?”
“Why would you still be thinking about that?” I shrug. “Drop it, please.”
“After you explain it to me, I’ll never mention it again.”
I raise my eyebrow. “I don’t believe you.”
He smirks. He doesn’t believe that either. “So you lied?”
“No.”
“Then it’s impossible.”
I drop my book, annoyed. “It is completely possible. Not everyone is fucking like rabbits, you know?”
“Were you married?”
“No.”
“Religious beliefs?”
“Nope.”
He thinks for a moment and raises an eyebrow. “Just boring, then?”
I smile. “Maybe.”
He twists the blankets underneath him as he thinks.
Ugh, he’s not going to drop this until he has more information.
“Look, I was with my high school sweetheart for most of my adult life, and when we broke up . . .” I shrug.
“So you’re newly single?”
“Not really.”
“How long?”
“You’re very nosy, you know that?”
“How long?” he repeats.
“We broke up two years ago.”
“You haven’t had sex for two years?” He gasps, horrified.
I feel my cheeks heat with embarrassment. Damn it, why did I say that out loud? “I’ve been busy.”
“Masturbating?”
Nailed it.
I smirk and go back to my book.
We sit in silence for a while, and I can almost hear his brain ticking at a million miles per minute. “How long since you had sex?” I ask him.
He twists his lips as he thinks. “With myself . . . about an hour.”
“You jerked off here?” I gasp. “Where?”
“In the shower. What was I supposed to do? I haven’t had sex for five days; my balls were aching.”
“Ew.” I stare at him. “You have to wank after only five days?”
“Of course.” He nods. “I have to ejaculate every day, more than once if possible. Morning and night is the best scenario.”
I frown. “You’re sick.”
“All men need to come. It’s genetic.”
I think for a moment. I’ve never spoken to a man about this sort of thing before. “So who . . . do you . . . sleep with? A girlfriend or . . .”
“Girls.”
“What girls?”
He exhales heavily as he thinks. “I don’t know. I have a few people I see casually.”
“So you have open relationships with them?”
“No. I don’t have relationships with them; I have sex with them.”
I frown, confused. “What happens? They come to your house and undress, and you fuck them, and then they leave?”
He nods. “Pretty much.”
Yuck . . . I screw up my face.