"Bullshit." He rumbled, it was a little bit of a harsh bark, but he knew what she was talking about. "Things don't have to be like that here. And fuck everything else." Everything with Jo, Max...
Dean put his hands loosely on her shoulders. His gaze intent and unrelenting. "So, are you?" He didn't doubt it was his. Even though she could have been with a score of men since they'd been together, he somehow doubted she had been. But he had to hear it. He had to know without a doubt that she wasn't sick. That this wasn't one more fucked up way for the damned island to stab him in the gut.
But he wasn't holding her in place, if she wanted to jerk free from his hold his hands would fall away. And he didn't hide the desperation in his eyes. She couldn't know why it was there, but the only way to get rid of it was to ease his mind.