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“Mr. Compton, are you asking for a grade now?”

He snorted. “Please. I’m shocked your neighbors didn’t call the cops after your third—or was it fourth?—orgasm.”

She kicked his shin.

“And of course you’re a screamer,” he said, shaking his head. “Are there no surprises anymore?”

Riley flopped back down, unrepentant about her rather noisy appreciation for sex. “Since you seem to know exactly how good you are at this, what’s with the asking me if I have regrets?”

He went quiet, playing with her hair. “I just meant—shit. I don’t know what I meant. Never mind.”

She melted a little at his self-doubt and tilted her head up to look at him. “My only regret is not doing it earlier.”

With you, she added silently.

She expected him to look mollified, but his frown deepened. “But you have nothing to compare it to.”

Irritated, Riley sat up, running her fingers through her hair. “What do you want here, Sam? A trophy? Why don’t you just say whatever it is you’re dancing around?”

“Just that most women of your age—”

“Careful.” She held up a finger.

“Most women of your still-very-young-age have had a handful of partners by now. Now that you’ve dusted off your sex moves, you’ll likely want a little variety.”

“We have got to work on your pillow talk,” she muttered.

“But I’m right,” he said, sitting up and leaning back on his hands, looking inexplicably tanned and perfect against her white sheets.

He looked … amazing. Maybe I don’t want variety.

But that was not the sort of admission you made to a man who seemed to be all but ordering you to jump into another man’s bed.

“Do we have to talk about this now?” she asked, pulling the sheet up to cover her chest more fully. “It’s a little disconcerting to be discussing other partners when we’re both naked.”

“So you are planning on making up for lost time?”

“Stop it!” she said, exploding. “Are you trying to be crass?”

He closed his eyes briefly before running an apologetic finger over her back. “I’m sorry. I’m phrasing this wrong.”

“You think?”

“I just mean that I don’t expect anything from you. If you want to play the field a bit, I’d, well … understand.”

She narrowed her eyes and turned around to face him. “It wouldn’t bother you? Knowing that tomorrow night someone else could be in that very spot?”

His jaw tensed but his eyes revealed nothing.

“Or that maybe I’d try to improve upon my A-minus score with another guy?”

This time his eyes definitely flashed.

“Or maybe my upcoming Stiletto article could be something like ‘Ten Guys in Ten Days.’ Would that appease you?”

“Riley …”

She started to climb ou

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