“By talking, I mean having a conversation, not, ‘Do it harder, Connor,’ or ‘Faster, Connor.’”
She laughed and pinched him playfully. “Yeah, okay. What do you want to talk about?”
“I don’t know. What do you usually talk about after sex?”
“I don’t. Unlike most women, I’m the first one off the bed and out the door.”
“Why is that?”
She shrugged. “Never seemed much point in hanging around. You do and a man starts to get the wrong idea.”
“But you’re here now.”
“You wore me out. I’m too tired to move.” It wasn’t a complete lie, and it was easier than the truth. Hell, even she didn’t know why she was still lying there. It had to be temporary insanity.
“Have there been many before me?”
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