Sex was definitely off the table with him. I’d never met a man—hell, I didn’t think any existed—that would refuse a blowjob. So he offered to take me to one of the most opulent restaurants in Hollywood instead. Like eating dinner would be a substitute for sucking his cock. Normally, I would have rolled my eyes at a date, but I anticipated getting another shot at this blond god. Yes, he was too conservative for me and too much of a gentleman. But I vowed by all that was holy I would get a taste.

The night he came to pick me up, he stood at the door in stoic form. If he wasn’t so tall and lickable, he’d make an outstanding butler.

“Hello,” he murmured as he stepped in the door. “You look lovely.”

Normally, hello and lovely didn’t get me wet, but said with a British accent, oh my God, fire sparked in my panties.

“Let me get my purse,” I replied, trying hard not to make eye contact. There was a good chance I might combust if I did.

I grabbed my clutch and squeezed past him in the doorway. My body came in direct contact with a hard-planed chest. My eyes seemed to wander straight down to his crotch, praying he was as aroused as I was. I could see the outline of his length, but he wasn’t erect. Crap. Regardless, whatever cologne he was wearing was alluring.

He smelled edible.

Fuckable.

Suckable.

Forget dinner. I’d take him—to go.

The man made me nervous, another attribute I was unfamiliar with. I was self-assured and confident, but Keenan, he overwhelmed me. Maybe because I wasn’t used to a man being immune to my charms. I might not have been the hottest woman he’d ever met, but I had talents that would astound even him. If we ever got that far. We made small talk in the car and at the restaurant. I’m sure I played with my hundred-dollar meal because my mind had centered on his center. I wanted to get to dessert. Please let there be dessert. I’d never met anyone like him. His articulate, soft-spoken voice almost shattered any resolve I had. If we didn’t leave the restaurant soon, I was going to crawl under the table and create my own sex-inspired banana split. Complete with nuts and velvety cream.

Dinner lasted two hours. Fucking one hundred and twenty minutes. I was mesmerized as I watched him eat. His mouth was a work of art. Full, thick lips with just a wisp of blond hair above them. I wanted to brush the butter from my lobster across his mouth and lick it off. I crossed my legs repeatedly. I was damp and flushed. Jesus, what was happening to me? I’d never been in the presence of someone as regal as Keenan Stone. Bastard wasn’t only breathtaking, but sweet. A deadly combination in my case.

I had hoped he had some of Latch’s traits. Less drugs and booze and more man whore qualities. I was sadly disappointed. He would be work. If I wanted his cock, it would require persuasion. I was clearly out of my depth. I never had to ask, beg, or convince. Men expected it. They wanted it. Why couldn’t he be a womanizing asshat like every other male model? Jesus, not Keenan. Somehow I’d landed in an episode of Downton Abbey.

Our insignificant small talk continued in the car on the way home. Ugh! This night had been fruitless.

“I want very much to see you again,” Keenan said as he walked me to the front door of my condo.

A second date. Another dinner. Maybe a movie. What was I, sixteen? Couldn’t he just be a slut like me? This was so NOT the fantasy I’d concocted in my head. His modeling shots clearly screamed, I love to fuck, while in real life, he whispered, I am prim and proper. How the hell did he and Latch ever become bros?

“Um… I don’t think so. You’re a really nice guy, but honestly, I loathe dating, per say, and I get the impression you and I want different things,” I replied as I unlocked my door.

“Can I come in for a moment?” he asked as he pressed me through the doorway.

It will take more than a moment. Yes, I am that good! Maybe I was wrong and he was like Latch. He could be just toying with me. “Sure, take a seat.”

“I’ll stand if that’s all right.”

Fuck. I’d miscalculated—again. I tossed my purse on the kitchen bar and looked at him. God, he was so very tall. I felt like a petit hors d’oeuvre next to him. I couldn’t stop dreaming about tasting him.

Licking him.

Sucking him.

Swallowing him.

My cheeks warmed, as I’m sure my eyes stared with desperate lust.

“I’m sorry you feel as though I’ve disappointed you somehow. My intentions were taking you to dinner—only. I’m not Latch. I don’t do one-night stands. It’s not my way.” He paused and cupped my chin with his hand. “I really want to see you again. At some point, after I know you better, we can revisit the reasons of your disappointment. Let me in, Weezie. I really want to get to know you as a person… a woman.”

Holy hell. Forget the damp panties; they were now soaked. His accent could melt steel. Bring a woman to her knees (eventually). I could only articulate one word. “Why?”

“I could bed anyone I want. I’m looking for more than just a tumble I suppose.”

Now my skin felt too tight and my mouth was thick with dryness. “What gave you the impression I’m looking for more? Jesus, Keenan, you could pick from a flurry of women, and I’m the one you want? I don’t get it. I’ve seen photos of who you’ve dated. Young things with airbrushed skin and tight bodies. The one thing I wanted to give you—which I excel at—you won’t allow. So I’m not sure what you want. I’ve never dated, ever. I think I would find it tedious, and I would always desire more. I’m not sure I know how to be with just one man.”

“I’m willing to take a chance.” He breathed the words into my hair as he looked down at me.

The look in his crystal azure eyes made me want to say yes, made me want to be that woman who could commit. But I knew as soon as I had him, I would want to move on. I’d always want somebody else. I was more like Latch than he was. I knew he sensed my reluctance. I wanted to be with him badly, but not as a permanent fixture.

“I don’t know what to say. You’ve rendered me speechless, for the second time.”

“You wonder why I chose you? Because you don’t mince words. You speak your own version of truth, and damn the consequences. I admire that. Don’t push me away because you fear something unfamiliar. I’m not asking you to restrain yourself with others. Only with me. I’m just asking you to give me—us—time to know each other.”

I stood there with my mouth gaping open, then snapped it shut with a silent cackle. “Isn’t that a woman’s line?”

“Possibly, but I wanted to put out my intent. I know all about your lifestyle… I’ve heard the rumors.”

“What if they’re not rumors?” I questioned, licking my lips.

“Then I suppose I have something to look forward to.”

His candor left me dumbfounded. He knew the woman he wanted loved giving head and relished sex. He should’ve been running either away or into my bed. Keenan confused the hell out of me.

“I’ll call you in a few days if that’s all right with you. Tell Haven I said hello,” he murmured as he pressed a kiss to the top of my head.

I wasn’t sure if I should be annoyed or overjoyed. I’d expected more. But he could only go down from the top of my head. Maybe if I had willpower. I was supposed to sit by while one of the world’s top models delegated his affections. Being what? A lady in waiting? Hell, I was no lady, and I loathed patience. I got irritated standing in a checkout line. Was I supposed to wait around until his moral clause was rebuked?

I watched as he casually strolled to his car. Probably going home to masturbate. Hell, he was probably going to be palming his prick in the car. I could have saved him the trouble.

I told myself I was only accepting this situation because he was Keenan Stone. Any other man I would have told to fuck off, and not in a sex way. But with this man, I knew if I told him to go away, he would. And I wasn’t yet ready to give up on the idea of seeing that model cock. He might not have Latch’s reputation, but I’d be willing to guess their cocks were comparable. Haven had spoken highly of Latch’s—men and their toys. We’d see if maybe I couldn’t shag (I believe that’s British for fucking) some dirty into Mr. Prim-and-Proper.