She didn’t know if he was really listening—but she was about to find out. ‘Sleep with me.’
His focus shot to meet hers. She lifted her chin a notch, not retreating from her challenge.
His lips twisted. ‘Have you had champagne for breakfast?’
She wished she had—it might make this easier. She repeated her new mantra. She was a free spirit, floating through life now. Unafraid to do what she wanted. And she’d take neither acceptance nor rejection to heart. ‘I want you to be my lover.’ She drew her lip in with her teeth and breathed the last. ‘My first.’
His eyes widened. ‘What?’
She waited, knowing full well he’d heard.
His hands gently shook her. ‘Yourfirst?’
A different kind of tension rolled off him now.
Okay, so maybe mentioning the ‘first’ had been a mistake. But she’d wanted him to know. Thought it was better to be honest. Thought it might tempt him all the more. Only a look of sheer panic scrunched his face. Now he dropped his hands and took a step back.
‘Isn’t it every man’s fantasy?’ she asked, suddenly a lot less confident.
‘Not mine.’
‘No?’
His jaw clamped for a moment; she saw the deep breath he dragged in. Then he lifted his chin. ‘No. I don’t want some total novice who doesn’t know what she’s doing. Who’ll lie like a log expecting me to do all the work.’
Ouch. How to shoot her down.
‘I’m not a total novice. The actual virginity bit is a mere technicality,’ she flung at him, furious that he could go cold so quick—and be so damn brutal about it.
Chelsea had been right about him being harsh; he had a really offensive kind of defense. But it was an act—she knew it. She’d felt the need in his body.
‘I know you’re interested,’ she said defiantly. ‘I’ve seen the way you look at me.’
‘How do I look at you?’
‘Like you want to touch.’ She moved forward, her boldness returning when he didn’t walk away. And damn it, she’d come this far, there was nothing left of her dignity to lose. So she wasn’t just flirty, she was shameless. ‘And I do know how to touch. Won’t be any kind of cold stone.’
‘Really?’
She nodded. Hoping her hammering nerves weren’t obvious.
He stood like an immovable mountain. In fact she didn’t see any part of him move as he murmured, ‘Prove it.’
Part of her wanted to tell him to go to hell for playing her so hard. But victory surged through her veins too. Yes, she’d known. She might be a virgin but that didn’t mean she was an idiot. He wanted her.
She got to within kissing distance. But she wasn’t going to go for the obvious. Nor was she going to make it that easy for him. Somehow she was going to make him suffer for this humiliation.
She looked down his body—as freely, boldly, brazenly as he’d looked at her before. Then she stepped closer, angling her head so her face tucked in near his neck—her own neck exposed to him. She blew, very lightly, on the pulse she could see beating madly just beneath his jaw.
He flinched.
With one, light finger she stroked his forearm, feeling the heat of his skin, the tenseness of the muscles beneath it. She moved, licked her lips, then very lightly pressed them against his salty skin.
He stood like a statue. A very hot, breathing hard one.
‘I have had a boyfriend. I know a few things,’ she whispered against his throat. ‘Done a few things.’ Her hand moved to his chest, circling the tight nipple beneath his tee. ‘And I’m keen to learn some more.’
She felt the rise and fall as his breathing quickened from just that little touch. And then he seemed to stop breathing altogether.
