“Last summer,” she says, huffing out a breath, “I was a server at the country club. One night after a wedding, this guy I worked with swiped a bottle of champagne and suggested we go for a joyride on the golf course. He was cute, so I figured, why not? Anyway, we find this nice moonlit spot on the ninth hole where we can enjoy the soothing splash of the water feature. Half-way through the bottle, we’re both feeling good and we start kissing.”
Sounds normal enough so far.
“Just as things are getting good,” she says, her voice raising an octave, “the golf cart lurches forward and before you know it, we’re up to our elbows in scummy pond water because the dumbass forgot to set the emergency brake.” She pauses, and it’s all I can do to keep my mouth shut. “We were both fired. To add insult to injury, I had to do community service for destruction of property. So, yeah. I’d like to lose my virginitybeforeI die.”
The corners of my lips quiver at the mental image she’s painted, and I choke on a laugh. “That sucks, but it’s not exactly a near death experience.”
I’m not trying to be insensitive, but come on. That shit’s funny.
She cuts her eyes at me again and tries to sidestep me, but I’m too quick. I grab her arm because no way in hell is she going back into that party.
“Okay, so you have bad luck.” I swallow another laugh. “You can’t just go around propositioning guys.”
“Why not?” She arches a slender brow. “You do it all the time.”
“Yeah, but I’m not a virgin.”
She rolls her eyes—hard. “Could you maybe say it with a little less distaste?”
“There’s nothing wrong with being a virgin.” I throw my hands up for good measure. Could be surrender, could be self-defense. Only time will tell. “But I have a strict no virgins policy when it comes to hookups.”
“And why is that?” she asks, slowly enunciating each word.
It’s a trap. Do. Not. Answer.
“In my experience, they have needs I’m not equipped to handle.”
So much for keeping my mouth shut.
“You don’t have sex with virgins because you think they’re emotionally needy?” Now she’s the one curling her lip, but I have to admit, it’s kind of sexy.
Not that I’m going to tell her. She’s on a roll now, and despite what my teammates might think, I’m not harboring a death wish. Even if thisisthe most fun I’ve had all night.
“Stop putting words in my mouth.”
“I’ll stop putting words in your mouth,” she says, smiling sweetly, “when you stop sounding like a sexist pig.”
I’m a lot of things, but a sexist pig? Total bullshit.
I tamp down my annoyance and try another approach. “I’m just saying I haven’t seen a lot of guys turn into emotional messes over sex.”
She snorts and if it weren’t for the derisive look she throws my way, it would probably be cute. “That’s because you’re the reigning king of one-night stands.”
Thanks for the reminder, sweetheart.
I roll my shoulders, letting the accusation slide off my back. Quinn doesn’t know shit about me, and if she thinks I’m a man-whoring asshole, well, she’s not wrong.
Hell, it’s practically the DeLaurentis legacy.
“It seems my reputation precedes me.” I force a grin and wink at her, slipping back into the carefree persona I’ve so carefully crafted on campus. Who cares if she thinks I’m a dick? It doesn’t matter. My work here is done. “I’ll see you around, Quinn.”
She frowns at the brush off, her full bottom lip jutting out.
Desire flares white-hot, the urge to rake my teeth over her soft flesh striking hard and fast.
Don’t even think about it, DeLaurentis.
Squashing the impulse, I jog up the front steps and stop at the door, where an underclassman is handing out cups. He jumps up from his chair like I’m the fucking pope, and I take far too much pleasure in my next words, hooking a thumb at Quinn as I deliver them. “She’s cut off.”
