A Perfect Ten (Forbidden Men #5)(47)

I sniffed and sent him a glower. “No.”

Yes, totally.

His grin only grew. “She walked in on me in the shower once; thought I was Hamilton.” Smile suddenly dimming, he glanced away. “To say the least, she totally flipped out. So did the other two.”

I don’t know why it bothered me that three women had seen his penis, but it really, really did. I pulled back, my chest tight with pain, even as I forced casualness into my voice. “Oh, yeah? How’d they freak out?”

“How do you think?” His gaze was hard and penetrating. Then he gave a hard, sniff-like, self-derisive laugh and shrugged. “The first time was...well, my first time. I didn’t even think about hiding it or being ashamed. I didn’t know it was a f*cking abnormality. Everyone in my family knew about it and had seen me run around naked when I was younger. No one ever told me, ‘Hey, this could totally freak out some girl later on in your life.’”

“So, she didn’t see it until after you two had...?” I motioned with my hands, wondering why I was talking about this with him while we were naked and in bed together, arguing about completely unrelated, more-important things…like our possible future together.

“Right,” he said.

“What’d she do?” I think the only reason I could ask was because I knew it had ended badly for him. If I had known he’d had a good time with her, I wouldn’t have been able to ask at all.

“She screamed. Then she demanded to know what the hell was wrong with me and if it was contagious and...you know.” He glanced away, pale and serious. “All that shit.”

I snorted. “What a bitch.”

His gaze zipped back to me. “She was only sixteen.”

That still didn’t excuse her in my book. She’d traumatized my Oren. The bitch must die...in my head anyway. I pictured myself pushing her off the side of a bridge and listening to her scream all the way down until...oops, she wasn’t screaming anymore.

And yikes, I really did have issues, didn’t I?

“And the next girl?”

“Tianna,” he said.

I seized up inside, not liking that I knew one of his past sluts’ names.

Tianna, Tianna. The big, fat bitch-anna, I sang in my head.

“She gave good head,” he went on, and yep, I really didn’t like knowing that. But he didn’t seem to know I was in the room anymore; he was trapped in a memory. “And she seemed okay with doing it in the dark until one night she pulled her cell phone out and turned on the light so she could see what she was doing.”

“And she flipped out, too,” I guessed.

Oren nodded. “Oh, yeah. Big time. Called me a freak and threatened to cut off my pecker if I’d given her an STD. All kinds of lovely shit. I actually had to blackmail that one to keep her trap shut about it.” He let out a small, depressed sigh. “She still really hates me.”

In a split second, I went from crazy jealous to heartbroken with sympathy. But seriously, what was wrong with all the whores who’d seen him? How could they treat such a sensitive area so callously?

“I want to see it,” I blurted out.

“What?” He sent me an incredulous glance. “No. Besides, you’re not supposed to see me like this ever again.” As if suddenly remembering that part of his vow he’d made himself only minutes ago, he grabbed the sheets and lifted them to cover himself to his chin.

I rolled my eyes, but then grinned and crawled toward him. “Oh, come on. Please. I promise I won’t upset you with my reaction.”

He crab crawled away from me, shaking his head vigorously. “No f*cking way on earth. Even Blondie freaked out when she saw it. And she’s like the last person ever who’d hurt someone with her reaction to their...differences.”

“Well, I already know to expect something different, so it’s not going to take me by surprise.”

He glanced away, and the panic on his face almost killed me. “It’s really bright purplish red and looks like a blood vein popped or something. And it looks worse when I’m soft.”

I lifted my eyebrows, intrigued. “Really? Then I guess we should make it hard before I see it at its best, huh?” Reaching down, I found him through the sheet and wrapped my hand around his cock. When he jerked in my palm, I tsked at him to behave. “And bright purplish red is actually one of my favorite colors.”

He looked at me, his expression full of so much uncertainty, but I swear I also saw an ache as if he wanted to believe me, as if he wanted to trust me with the most vulnerable part of himself. “Caroline.” The way he rasped my name and hardened even more under my touch made me hum with delight.

I leaned in to kiss him, my hand working up and down his steadily growing length through the sheet. He kissed me back, spiking his tongue deep in my mouth. When he groaned and cupped my face in his fingers and the sheet dropped from between us, I knew my distraction had worked.

I ripped the covers off him at the same moment I tore my mouth from his and looked down.

“Damn it.” He sucked in a breath and fisted his hand over his mouth before turning his face aside.

“Oh!” Genuine surprise littered my voice. “It’s bigger than I thought it’d be.” Then I smoothed my thumb over the mark that had caused him so much grief and added, “So’s the birthmark.”