I instantly had to reevaluate whatever first impression the girl with glasses and freckles by the dumpsters had given me. Yes, she had a shy, sweet side. But, like I’d seen in the car not even a half hour earlier, and like she was showing me now, she also had this spicy, sexy, playful side. I really wanted to get know that side. I think that was the side that was calling out to me.

“You don’t like me in your bed?” she joked, still teasing, baiting.

Too bad my reason for making her get up was a shitty one. Or I would have played along with this. “I don’t really know how to say this without sounding disgusting as fu—” I started and then stopped myself mid-sentence. “Sorry,” I cleared my throat. My mom taught me to never curse around women. That lesson obviously hadn’t stuck because I cursed all the time. With her though, I was trying to be a little different. “Without sounding disgusting,” I corrected. “I need to change the sheets on my bed.”

She chuckled for a moment, probably thinking I was joking. Then she grew serious when she realized I wasn’t. I’d had a girl in this bed a couple nights ago, and I knew it wasn’t clean. Very far from it. I hope that didn’t hurt her feelings, but I couldn’t change what had already happened.

“Oh,” she muttered, realizing my meaning. “Well, go ahead.” She stepped aside.

With her eyes on me, I found my extra set of sheets in the closet and made quick work of removing the dirty set. It was hard to maneuver in a towel, but I managed. “I screw around a lot. It’s no secret,” I told her, wishing to God I didn’t have to say this. “I’m sure you’ve heard.”

“I have.”

Finishing with my bed, I next went for the pillows. “And you’re here now because of that…or despite that?”

I stopped working because this was important.

“Despite that,” she said slowly.

That was the answer I needed to hear, but one more thing still weighed on my mind. “Are you a virgin?”

She made this weird sigh, maybe more like a growl, and rolled her eyes at me. My question had obviously offended her, but it had to be asked. I wasn’t about to be her first.

“It’s a legit question, sweetheart,” I argued, tossing my pillow back on the bed. I grabbed the remote off my nightstand and turned off the TV. I couldn’t have Guy Fieri blabbing in the background about how good some hamburger was while we discussed this. “The truth is, you’re standing there looking pure as snow. While I’m pretty sure I’m fucking yellow snow.” Shit. I cursed in front of her again. I had to stop doing that. “Look. It may not seem like it, but I’m trying very hard to be a gentleman with you. I like you. And that sort of thing just doesn’t happened to me.” I took a breath. I felt like I was talking myself into a hole. “Sorry,” I added. “I’m nervous and that doesn’t happen to me either.”

For several long seconds we both stared at one another. I became very aware that I had on only a towel. There was a little spark of anger between us, but also a spark of lust. One that had my heart hammering and my skin crawling. With such a rush of emotions going through me, I waited for her to say something…anything.

Instead, she let out a small laugh. I didn’t get what was so funny. “Did you just compare yourself to yellow snow?” she giggled.

Oh. Right. That.

“That probably wasn’t the best analogy,” I acknowledged, unable to keep from smiling.

“Probably not.”

She bit her lip and shook her head. “You’re too much. And I like you too,” she admitted. “I’m not a virgin, Rhett. You don’t need to be anything else but yourself around me because I’m not as ‘snow white’ as I might look.”

“You’re not?”

“No.”

“Thank you, Jesus,” I said to the ceiling. Because, dammit, I wasn’t really a gentleman. I was a guy who liked to fuck. And I’d never wanted to fuck someone as much as I wanted to fuck her. “This evening can go one of two ways,” I told her, my confidence back in place and suddenly stronger than ever. “In the first scenario, we watch Princess Bride and we snuggle. And if that’s all you want to do tonight then I’m cool with that. I like you so I’m going to do whatever. Or…in scenario number two…I can drop this towel and we can go from there. It’s your choice, sweetheart.” My hand lingered on the edge of my towel. “What’s it going to be? And I should probably learn your name.”

Two. The way her eyes devoured me alive told me her answer was scenario two.

“Drop the towel,” she finally uttered.

I dropped the towel.

CHAPTER 7:

SYDNEY

Rhett had a very large penis. Was I allowed to think that? Was I allowed to like that? Holy crap. Kind of intimidating and kind of pretty. And it matched his seemingly photo-shopped abs and mouthwatering thighs perfectly. Jeez, what was it about his thighs that I found so damn attractive? I didn’t know. I just knew I liked them. And now I knew I liked his penis too.

Man, I was such a weirdo.

A weirdo and a virgin.

Closing my mouth, because it was pretty much hanging wide open, I reminded myself to breathe. A moment ago, when he’d asked me if I was a virgin, I’d lied. I’d lied because I feared if I told him the truth he might start treating me differently. Everything had been going well thus far, better even, and I wouldn’t be able to handle it if he’d stopped looking at me like that. Because that was the way he’d been treating me all night—like I was something special, like I hung the freaking moon in the sky. It was the exact way I’d always wished Ben had looked at me. Maybe Rhett wouldn’t look at me any different if he knew the truth, but I wasn’t willing to find out. Besides, he would never know the difference…right? Guys couldn’t actually tell that sort of thing. It was only a myth that they could.

I wasn’t one-hundred percent sure. But I hoped not.

My eyes finished their inspection of his naked body, my gaze returning to his face.

“Like what you see?” he asked.

“Yes,” I breathed.

His ego was through the roof, but I couldn’t even begin to deny my attraction.

“Good.”

Our eyes connected. Then, as if he couldn’t stay still another second, he moved across the room, took my face in his hands, and kissed me. The intensity of our kiss was like no other. When we kissed there was some sort of mutual, automatic, animalistic understanding that passed between us—like we were perfectly in sync on a physical level. Every kiss we’d shared thus far, including this one, seemed to always have that common denominator. It was good. It didn’t make sense…but it was good.

“I want you naked,” he whispered against my mouth. “Now. No more foreplay. No more banter. Just sex.” Before I even had a moment to process his words, he lifted me up into his arms and tossed me onto his freshly made bed.

Um, wow. Damn. What was that? Maybe I’d let loose some sort of beast by telling him I wasn’t a virgin and giving him the green light. Because the naked guy that stared down at me, with eyes so full of life and fire, didn’t look like he was about to be easy or gentle or hold anything back with me. Which was exactly what I needed and expected from him. This was the Rhett Morgan with the reputation.

He joined me in the bed and his fingers began working immediately, unbuttoning my dress. There were too many buttons, and he could have ripped my dress apart in haste, as he had so indelicately done with my panties in the car, but Rhett carefully unbuttoned each one. He reached the end and pushed the pieces of material apart, exposing me.

“Sit up,” he ordered.

I did as he asked.

He pushed the straps of my dress off my shoulders so the material fell away. Then he reached around my back and unclasped my bra. He tugged it away and then, always one for the dramatic, flung it into some unknown corner of his room.