Page 22 of The Prez’s Daughter

“You were?”

“I was.”

Charlotte nodded. “Great. That’s cool. We were going to kiss each other.”

Savage laughed. “You’re cute when you’re nervous.”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know why I’m so nervous.”

“You’re on a date,” he said.

“But I thought this was kind of a pretend date?”

“We just kissed, how about we admit this is an actual date?”

Charlotte took a breath and nodded her head in a jerky kind of way. He knew she had questions, and he waited.

“Do you want this to be a real date?” she asked.

And there it was.

“Yeah, I do.” And the boundary had been crossed. Doc would be pissed at him. There were so many rules he was currently breaking, and he was not the best club brother right now. He knew the guys would be pissed off with him.

Charlotte had gotten under his skin. She was fucking young, and he should look the other way, but he couldn’t let her go on another date with a piece of shit like Andy.

He would treat Charlotte with the care and respect she deserved.

Chapter Seven

Charlotte was content. Actually, that was a mild way to say how happy she was. The food had been incredible and the conversation flowed like it was so natural between them. Savage actually talked to her about a few incidents in the club. One was from his days of being a prospect, and another was about some occurrences with the guys on the open road, which she loved. Club business was not a topic of conversation. She knew how that worked, after all, she listened to plenty of arguments from her parents about that. It sucked for the both of them.

They made their way into his apartment, and she kicked off her pumps, as Savage kicked off his boots.

“You want a beer, babe?” he asked.

Charlotte nodded in agreement, although she wasn’t much of a beer drinker. He went into the kitchen, as she made her way to the couch, sitting down on it, or more like collapsing. It had been a long night. After they enjoyed their food, they danced for a good two hours. Shared the nicest chocolate cake dessert she had ever eaten, and then danced a little more. Checking the time, she saw it was close to two o’clock in the morning. They had left the bar a little after one, which had been close to closing.

He didn’t break any rules on the hour’s drive back.

He came back, holding two beers in one hand and a soda in the other. “I figured I’d let you try the beer, but I had a feeling you weren’t going to like it.”

She reached for the beer, took a sip, and wrinkled her nose.

He laughed. “See, I think of all the options.”

“That’s disgusting. Why do you guys even drink it?” she asked.

“And girls. Beer is an acquired taste.”

“So, I know this is a lot, but, uh, have you ever been married?” she asked.

Savage laughed. “No. I don’t have an old lady either, and I’ve not staked my claim on any of the other women. What about you?” He winked at her.

“I’ve not been married, and no, I don’t even have a boyfriend. I’ve never been with a boyfriend. I’m a virgin.” And there she went, spitting that little piece of detail out, rather than keeping it to herself.

Did men even like the thought of their woman being a virgin?

Were virgins popular anymore? Didn’t men want experienced women?