“That’s…not how this works,” I finally manage to croak out. “Just because I wanted to get laid last weekend doesn’t mean I’ll fuck just anyone. Beckett and I shared an organic moment. I didn’t go to the party planning to have sex with him.” “So you don’t have an itch that needs scratching anymore?” “That’s not what I’m saying.” “Then you do still require naked stress-busting.” On a raspy chuckle, he throws my own asinine descriptor back at me. “All I’m saying is, just because I need…” “To get fucked,” he supplies.
