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HOW TO NOT LOSE YOUR VIRGINITY TO A MAN WHORE
IZZY
“I’ve missed you.”
I jump slightly when I hear his voice. I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here—especially him. I take a deep breath and turn around to see the man I’ve been thinking about nonstop. A man I have no business letting get to me.
“Candy-boy. I didn’t think I’d see you here today.”
He smirks at my reworked nickname for him. I shouldn’t like the sparkle in his eyes, but I do—way too much. I don’t know what it is about this guy, but I can admit I’m drawn to him. Then again, I’m also drawn to chocolate, and if I ate it like I wanted to, I’d weigh five hundred pounds. Just because I like it doesn’t mean I’m going to indulge. It’s a hard lesson I learned from my childhood and one I still use today. I was what some around me used to refer to as pleasantly plump. God, I hated those words. I was in the fourth grade and weighed a hundred and twenty pounds. I was also five-six and had C-cup breasts. I began to hate my body, and as the girls in my class mocked me and the boys would whisper, snicker, and flip my bra strap, I began a downward spiral when it came to my self-worth and appeal. My immediate family loved me, but they did not know the hell that I lived through—especially the one inside my mind.
“Griff was going to bring Savage, but when I found out you were in, I came.”
I frown, letting my gaze move up and down, taking him all in. You’d be stupid not to admit that the man was hot as hell. I wasn’t usually attracted to men with lighter-colored hair. I could admit, however, that blond hair looked damn good on Caleb. I sigh because I remember his first name, even if I shouldn’t. I pretty much remember everything about him because I dream about the asshole a lot. I hate that I do, but it’s out of my hands. It’s his fault. He seriously looks like a Greek god, with long blond hair that falls just below his shoulders. It’s got a wave and curl to it that most women pay a fortune to create at a salon. His ripped body is covered in ink, and his face looks as if it was chiseled out of stone that was blessed by the gods.
He's perfection—everything that I’m not.
He’s also a player and nothing I can have. I have goals and set timelines to achieve them. I don’t have time to take a walk on the wild side. Besides, whatever Caleb’s interest in me is, it’s not the relationship I want for my future. He sees wild sex and a woman who knows the score and the ways of a biker.
He doesn’t realize that what he’d get with me is a woman who knows his world and wants to remain on the outside of it. A woman who plans on being a damn good doctor and trauma surgeon. A woman who wants a strong, steady, dependable man. A man who won’t stray and will devote himself to me and our two-point-five children.
That thought makes me smile. I read an article once that said the average happy life equates to a house in the suburbs with a picket fence, two-point-five kids, and a pet dog. I don’t know how you achieve the two-point-five. I figure it’s an average of all the families polled, but the thought makes me giggle. For my part, a devoted, stable husband, two kids—a boy and girl—and a family dog is definitely my long-term goal. Short-term? I just want to pass my exams and stay at the head of my class.
“Should I worry you know my schedule? Are you stalking me?”
Even as I ask the question, the absurdity of it makes me cringe. I don’t know the Kings of Anarchy club. They’re in Tennessee, which isn’t that far from here. My cousin Spider knows them, though. Spider is the son of Aunt Beth and Uncle Skull. We grew up together and we’re super close. More so since the death of Spider’s brother, Diego. When I told him about Caleb approaching me at Beau and BB’s house before all hell broke loose, he warned me away. I knew it anyway, but according to Spider, Caleb is definitely a player and the biggest man whore around. In fact, he’s notorious. Spider knows a guy who is pledging for the Kings, and let’s just say the description of Caleb’s exploits with the biker bunnies is enough to keep me away from him for life.
“Stalking? I prefer to call it strategically planning my next Izzy fix,” he purrs.
I shake my head. “I’m going to stop you right there. I don’t know what you have going on in that head of yours, but you need to stop.”
His smile doesn’t falter. One of his eyebrows kicks up in a high arch, and I make myself ignore how good he looks. “Stop what, exactly?”
“Whatever you’re doing by searching me out. I can assure you nothing is going to happen between us?—”
“Wrong,” he murmurs.
“Nothing will ever happen. Listen, I love my family, Caleb. I love them with all my heart. Still, I know firsthand how hard it has been for my mother to put up with seeing women in the club who had Dad before they got together. It has been freaking years, and the ones that are still here act like little bitches to Mom. She doesn’t hold it against Dad, but she still cries.”
“I’m not asking you to get on the back of my bike today, go back to Tennessee with me, and become my old lady,” he denies at once.
His words slam into me. Each one feeling like a knife that reopens old wounds I keep hidden. I’m a fool. I just assumed he was pursuing me for a relationship. I should have known better. Now, I feel humiliated.
“Then, you should also know I don’t do casual hookups. In fact, I don’t do hookups at all. It’s not the life I want. So, save us both some trouble and move along.”
“Define casual hookups,” he says, ignoring my plea.
“I’m pretty sure you know what a casual hookup is,” I counter.
“Pretend I don’t,” he says while sitting down at Beau’s kitchen table.
“Sex without meaning. No relationship,” I huff, getting annoyed.
“So, you want to be in a relationship with me?” he asks. The question makes my heart beat rapidly against my chest.
“You’re not a relationship kind of guy from what I hear. Plus, I’m busy with school. I don’t have time for a relationship.”
