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Then they pop open and she reels back.
“Okay—enough! I shouldn’t be here,” she whispers, wheels of doubt spinning behind her eyes.
I don’t answer.
Even if she’s right and we’re playing a dangerous game, the fact that she’s playing at all tells me I’ve got reason to continue.
“My turn, princess. Truth or fucking dare.” I reach for her face and clasp her chin, just firmly enough to tell her I’m not playing around. “How long has it been since your last fuck? Was he any good?”
Her breath stalls.
If she thought she was the only one who gets to ask hard questions tonight, she’s dead wrong.
When Delia moves, she’s shaking her head like mad, slapping my arm.
I don’t let go.
Don’t let up.
Tracing her jawline softly with my thumb, I try to remind her of that dark, forbidden night.
Of all the things I can still do to make her clit sing.
Hell, her whole body, if only she’d stop talking, shed the Miss Innocent act, and let me get her naked and under me.
“Come on. Look who’s asking for classified secrets now,” she says, twisting away from me.
I know I’m on target.
And I think the girl just invented a new shade of embarrassed, blushing like a sunburn. Virgin-red.
Virgin?
Wait.
No fucking way. She can’t possibly be—
My gaze sharpens and I feel drunk from wondering.
Swallowing a growl, I cup her cheek, urging her to look at me before I pop the question.
“Delia, fuck. Are you hinting you’ve never been with a guy before?”
She opens her mouth, but her words catch in her throat.
Shit!
I push her off me, quickly but carefully, hating how radioactive she suddenly feels.
When I’m on my feet again, I almost fall over as my weight shifts.
Goddamn, this is bad.
I need space. Oxygen.Privacy.
Before my dick outruns my heart in the race to short out.
“Delia, whatareyou doing?” I whisper slowly. “You say you don’t want me; you throw it in my face why we can’t, but then you go and scrunch up in my lap and tell me you’ve never been with a man?”
