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I cringe at the way she emphasizes the last word. She makes it sound like I’m some kind of perverted fuck who fucks the entire day.

“I’m not a sex addict.” The words come out more defensive than intended. Fuck, I hate how weak it makes me sound. But more than that, I’m annoyed by the fact that she just managed to make me want to justify my actions.

I shouldn’t feel the need to explain my life, and yet in her presence the word “denial” springs to mind.

“That’s not what I’ve been told,” she says.

“Well, they’re wrong.”

Our gazes lock in a fierce battle.

She isn’t afraid of making eye contact, I notice.

She isn’t shy, either.

So, why doesn’t she want me to touch her in all the good places, like most women do?

“What do you want?” I slump down on the couch, still eyeing her.

“A chat.”

“About what?”

“About ground rules.” She shrugs her shoulders. “It won’t take long,” she adds as she catches my alarmed glance. “Now that it’s clear we’re expected to share this apartment, we need to discuss how—”

“The answer is no.” I jump to my feet again. “I didn’t come here to be told by a woman what I can or can’t do.”

“But—” She leans forward and her frown deepens. “—you haven’t heard me out yet.”

“True. But you see, I know what women want from me, hell, from any man, and the answer is no. Are you done?” I make it a point to take a step toward the door.

To be honest, I’m enjoying myself. I enjoy winding her up.

Her face distorts into anger, just as I expected. “That’s so sexist of you. You have no idea what I’ll ask of you.”

“Believe it or not, I do. You’ll want what all other women want.”

“Again, so sexist. But you’re wrong.”

No woman has ever called me a sexist. “What are you saying?”

“You got it all wrong,” she repeats.

I take a step toward her, my gaze buried in her blazing eyes. “Let me prove that I’m right. If I make a correct guess, I want you to go out with me.”

Shock crosses her features. I can see it in the way her eyes widen the moment her mind processes the meaning of my words. At last, she leans back, the shock replaced with surprise. “You want to go out with me?”

Surprise and complete disbelief.

What’s so hard to believe that yes, I’d take her out to dinner and then I’d rock both the bed and her world?

“Yes,” I say slowly.

She frowns. “Why?”

“To get to know you better.” Among many things.

“We barely met half a hour ago.”