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I lick my lips in response followed by quick breaths through my nose to keep focused. I can faint from these goddamn kisses.
“I… I have to tell you something,” I blurt, fear dragging me under.
“If you tell me you have a boyfriend—”
I bark a laugh. “No.”
“Talk to me,” he demands in a husky drawl. “I’m going to fuck you, brat. If you don’t want that, open your door, and I’ll leave.”
Will he leave when I tell him I’m a virgin? I can’t risk it. I’ll never have a chance like this again with a man like him.
Some cinnamon roll guy will be gentle with me. I don’t want gentle. Not for my first time.
“Do you think I’m sober enough?” I ask instead.
“That’s what you have to tell me?”
“I’m still a little…loopy.”
He points to the floor. “Walk a straight line out of the kitchen.”
“Are you giving me a sobriety test?”
“Aye.”
This would be my chance to make him leave. Trip. Fall down.
But I want him to stay. I want my first time to be mind-blowing like I read in my smutty romance novels.
“I’m fine. I promise. Want me to sign something?”
“Ha. Not necessary.” He unzips his pants. “Go sit on your couch, brat.”
“Couch? Not my bed?”
“Do you want me in your bed?” His shoulders tense, jaw twitching.
Do I want his cologne on my sheets? “Hell, yeah.”
“Then show me your bed, brat.”
I ease past him and stalk down the hall, swinging the hips he says he likes. I’m still in my work suit, and I assume my tight pencil skirt made an impression on him today.
Spinning around, I unbutton my suit jacket. “Clothes on or off?”
He struts, following me. “Off.”
Shit…
The same way I don’t want him to know I’m a virgin, I’m not sure I want him to see me naked.
“Can we do this with the lights off?”
He stops in the hallway. “Why?”
I smooth my skirt. “I’m a little self-conscious of my body.”
“Don’t be. I’m dying to see what you’ve got under that suit. How dare you think you can waltz around and hide that body from me?”
