by Anna Durand
I giggle, because he's so darn lovable like this, not the cocky Brit who can't believe I'm a virgin, but simply a guy who's baffled by the fact I want him.
His eyes narrow, and his mouth slants into a smirk. "You dare to laugh at me? If we slept together, you'd never snicker at me again. I'm fantastic."
Yeah, I laugh some more, a little louder now. "You're just the cutest."
"Cute?" His smirk kicks up into a sly smile, and there's humor shimmering in his blue eyes. "You do realize I'll have to prove to you how not cute I am. And we will be naked while I'm providing that proof."
"I'd love that." I move closer, stopping a few inches from him, gazing up into his eyes. "I want you, Reese."
His playful cockiness fades away, replaced by a softer, surprised expression. "We met last night. Why would you want to have sex with me?"
"Do you have any idea how long I've been resisting the urge to get naked with a guy? It wasn't super hard, until now." I inch even closer, resting my palms on his chest. "Until you showed up and scared the shit out of me."
He sets his hands on my hips. "I'm not the relationship sort. If we do this, I won't stick around to cuddle with you or meet your family or any of that bollocks."
I smile. "You have to stick around. We're living in the same apartment."
"Well..." He steps back, drawing out a distance between us so my hands fall away from his chest. "I've been thinking I ought to get a room in a hotel."
"You mean Chance told you to move to a hotel."
I love Elena, so if she thinks Chance is amazing, then he must be. Elena wouldn't be marrying him otherwise. But Chance Dixon has no right to decide with whom I share an apartment or whether I screw that someone or not. So what if Reese is Chance's brother? It's still none of his beeswax.
From the moment I saw Reese, I wanted him. He's beyond sexy. And I'd decided before I left Ecuador that I want to get rid of this pesky virginity. I've waited a super long time to pop that cherry, and I don't want to wait one day longer.
Maybe nine months in a faraway country has made me a touch boy crazy.
"Please don't leave," I say. "I got back from Ecuador two days ago, and I haven't really had anyone to talk to in months. The family I lived with down there was nice, but it's not the same as having a real friend. You're fun. Sometimes full of yourself, but yeah, fun. I'd love for you to stay."
He regards me for a minute, his lips twisting this way and that, his fingers curling and uncurling.
When I think he's about to say he's leaving, he sighs and throws his hands up. "Fine. I'll stay. But I cannot have sex with you, Arden. My brother will have my hide if I do."
"Nobody needs to know. It can be our secret."
"Chance will know. Trust me." Reese ambles to the sofa and collapses onto it, then pats the cushion beside him. "Sit. Let's... talk or whatever. You should find out who I am before you toss your virginity in my lap."
I laugh while I pad over to the sofa and sit down near him. "Toss my virginity? Not sure how that works. It's not like I have an actual cherry in there that I can whip out and hand to you."
His upper lip curls. "That's the most revolting image I've ever been forced to picture."
"Yeah, I realized how gross it was while the words were spewing out of me. Sorry. I have a tendency to say inappropriate things."
"Do you?" His lips curve into a sexily teasing smile. "I think I'm going to like you, Arden Clover Pesti."
"Most people think I'm nuts."
"Well, you are slightly barmy. But it's endearing, in a strange way."
"Thank you. I love being strange."
He cocks his head like he's analyzing me. "How old are you?"
"Didn't anyone ever tell you women don't want to be asked that question? I'm surprised a player like you doesn't know that."
"I'll have you know I've never asked a woman her age before." He angles his body toward me a little. "But I'm curious to know how long you've been holding on to your virginity, and why. So, how old are you?"
"Guess that's a fair question, considering I told you I want to have sex." Get naked and crazy with him, actually, but I don't want to scare him off. "I'm twenty-eight."
"You don't act twenty-eight."
My lips twitch, but I stop myself from smiling. He seems sincere in his belief that I don't act the way someone my age should. "How do you think twenty-eight-year-olds usually behave?"
"I don't know. Less demented."
This time his lips twitch, and I realize he's kidding.
Crossing my arms, I lift my chin. "Okay, Mr. I'm So Hot You'll Forgive Me for Being a Smart-Ass, how old are you? I mean, since I answered---"
"It's all right. I'm not shy about anything." He sets one ankle on the other knee. "I'm twenty-four."
"A younger man. Wow, that's even hotter."
"Older women definitely are hotter." He winks. "Even if they're still innocent."
"Who said I'm innocent? I've had orgasms, you know. Loads of them."
His brows shoot up. "You have?"
I give him a fake chastising look and wag my finger at him. "Don't make assumptions about me. You'll almost always be wrong."
"Lesson learned." He slants forward, resting his arm on the sofa's back. In a hushed voice I'm sure is pure sarcasm, he asks, "Are you sure they're orgasms? Since you've never had sex, how would you know?"
A laugh snorts out of me. "Yeah, like there's any doubt about it when I'm writhing on my bed and can't breathe because I'm coming so hard."
He stares at me for a few seconds, without blinking, then clears his throat and sinks back into his corner of the sofa. He grabs a throw pillow and puts it on his lap. "So you, uh, self-pleasure."
Oh holy cuteness, it's so absolutely adorable that he can't seem to make himself say the word masturbate. Which makes me want to torture him a little. He deserves it after being so shocked that I'm a virgin, and so shocked that I want to have sex with him.
"I don't do it all by myself," I say. "I have Rod."
"You---" His eyes bulge like they might explode or something. "Who the bloody hell is Rod? I thought you didn't have a boyfriend. And you said you're a virgin, so how in the world could some bloke called Rod give you orgasms?"
No, I'm not lying. I do have Rod. But I might be allowing Reese to get the slightly wrong impression about my little friend.
Rod is my favorite vibrator. Yeah, I named it. I'm kooky, remember?
The human sex machine sitting on the sofa with me has stopped gawking, but he still looks flummoxed. "Does he give you oral sex?"
"No, it's more hands-on." I sigh and gaze into space, smiling a touch, like I'm remembering all the fantastic O's Rod has given me. "Rod gets me off faster than any of my other fuck buddies."
"You're what?"
And now Reese's eyes are bulging again.
Maybe I should have mercy and stop torturing him, but I'm having too much fun.
Reese scrubs a hand over his face, twice, until the shock softens into total confusion. "I think you have a very different definition of virginity than anyone else on the planet. How many fuck buddies do you have? Do you take your kit off for them?"
"What's a kit?"
"Your clothes."
"No, I keep my nightie on. But a good, hard come always leaves me zonked out, so I go to sleep right after." I act like I'm sentimental about it when I say, "As for how many fuck buddies I have... Well, there's Rod, obviously. And Big Jim, who gets the job done slower but with more intensity. And oh, I can't forget Jack. He's like a bunny rabbit, all energy and super-quick climaxes."
Reese's confusion has morphed into a suspicious expression. He eyes me like he's almost figured out what I'm talking about. "Jack is like a rabbit. Why do I feel like you're having me on in the worst way?"
"Okay, I admit it. I'm talking about my vibrators."
He blinks quickly several times before a naughty smile spreads across his face. "You have t
hree vibrators? Quite a randy little thing, aren't you?"
"Staying a virgin doesn't mean I have no sexual urges." I tilt my head, eying him kind of the way he'd eyed me a minute ago. "How many women have you slept with?"
"Oh no, I have more sense than that. I never tell a woman the answer because no girl really wants to hear it."
"That many, huh? You're a real hound, I guess."
"I'm a ladies' man."
"Which is code for man-whore."
He scoots closer and speaks in a deeper, softer voice. "I'm experienced, which means I can guarantee you won't want Rod or Jack anymore after you've been with me."
"Awesome. Let's do it now."
"I can't perform on command like a ruddy vibrator." He shoves a hand into his hair. "I feel like we should get to know each other a little first."
"Are you always so shy about getting it on? I mean, from the way you talk, I assumed you'd be raring to go."
"This is different for me." He scrunches up his whole face and groans. "I can't do it, anyway. I promised Chance, and I don't break my word."
"Wow, you are the sweetest, most honorable man-whore I've ever met."
"Thanks. I think." He relaxes, a big breath gusting out of him. "Tell me one thing. What in the bloody hell is a grey?"
Chapter Five
Reese
I'm trying to resist Arden, honestly I am. Resistance isn't in my nature, though, not when it comes to women. And this woman is so... irresistible. I paused there because I tried to think of a different word to describe her, but nothing else came to mind. She's curvy and sensual and bizarre and barmy. Whenever she smiles, her cheeks get these sweet little dimples in them, right at the corners of her mouth, and it makes me want to kiss her again. I also love the dimple at the top of her arse, where those delectable cheeks meet. I glimpsed that dimple last night when Arden was traipsing around in her knickers.
A scrap of plaid, that's all it had been. A scrap that barely covered her bottom.
This morning, she's wearing jeans and a short-sleeve jumper, both of which cling to her alluring shape.
Sweater, not jumper. I'm in America now, so I need to remember the differences.
"Reese, are you awake?"
She's waving her hand in my face, and I realize she's been talking while I've been fantasizing about her.
"Ah, sorry," I say. "My mind wandered. What were you saying?"
"You asked me what a grey is. I explained, you missed it, and I'm not super inclined to tell you again."
"I'll listen this time. You have my word." Assuming she doesn't smile again, making that dimple reappear. All bets are off then.
All her clothes might be off too.
Except I promised Chance I wouldn't do that. Damn him. Chance has no right to tell two adults what they can and can't do. Or maybe I'm making excuses because I lust for Arden's body.
She taps my nose with her fingertip. "You're not listening again."
I realize she's right and smack my forehead. "Sorry. Don't know what's wrong with me today."
"Maybe it's jet lag."
"Could be." It's not, but at least that sounds like a good excuse for my behavior. "Let's try that again. What is a grey?"
"An alien."
I blink a few times while I watch her, because I can't believe she means what it sounds like she means. Maybe she's referring to immigrants from another country. That would make a lot more sense. Though I'm not aware of another country that has grey people in it.
She must mean grey hairs. Right? But how would that be an alien...
"What do you mean by 'an alien'?" I ask.
"An extraterrestrial being, as in a living creature from a planet other than Earth. They have grey skin, spindly arms and legs, and big black eyes."
She's looking at me like I'm the one who's a little crazy.
"Extraterrestrials," I say, still trying to come to terms with that one. "You actually believe grey aliens are visiting your bedroom in the middle of the night."
"No," she says with a faint laugh, like that's the dumbest thing she's ever heard. "Of course not. I'm not sure they abduct people either, but I completely believe alien life exists and that it's possible they've visited Earth."
"Do you really sleep with aluminium foil on your head?"
"That would make me insane, so no, I don't do that. It was part of the test, which you passed." She wiggles her bum like she's trying to get more comfortable. "Don't you believe in anything unusual? Things you haven't seen or touched yourself?"
"I believe your tits are beautiful and soft, even though I haven't touched them."
Her lips crimp like she's trying not to smile. "I offered to have sex with you, and you turned me down."
"No, I delayed making a decision." I fidget but can't get rid of what feels like a rock under my arse. I suppose it's a figment of my imagination, which is warning me to steer clear of Arden and her edible body. "I promised my brother I wouldn't touch you. He swears Elena will be devastated if I corrupt you."
"Corrupt me?" She laughs outright this time, and it lights up her expression. "You're so cute. I told you about Rod and Jack. How can you think I'm innocent and incorruptible? I have a filthy, filthy mind, and you'd probably blush if I told you the things I've imagined doing with you---and to you."
Her gaze flicks down to my cock.
And of course, that makes blood rush into it.
What has she been imagining doing to me? Since she looked down there, I'm guessing---hoping, maybe praying---she wants to get her mouth on me.
More blood rushes south.
"Let's go outside," I suggest. "For a walk. We can keep talking while we do that, and fresh air will be good for both of us."
"Sure, that sounds fab. I know a park we can go to."
"Brilliant. Let's do that."
It's a beautiful, warm morning, so we don't need coats. I try to talk Arden into wearing one, claiming I'm worried she'll catch cold when I'm actually afraid I'll snap and fuck her on the sidewalk if I have to look at her breasts cradled in whatever bra she's wearing. The fabric of her sweater stretches tight over those mounds. She won't wear a coat, so I'm probably doomed.
"Into the lift," I say when the doors open for us.
"The what?"
"Oh. Sorry. I meant elevator. I forget the American words for things."
"Don't worry about it." She walks into the elevator, and I follow. Once the doors slide shut, she asks, "Are you sleeping with anybody right now?"
I roll my eyes at her. "No, Arden, and I won't be sleeping with you either."
"But you want to." She stuffs her hands into her jeans pockets, cocking one hip. "I still don't get why you're anti-relationships. What are you afraid of?"
I make a noise that even I think sounds vaguely like a growl. "I told you earlier, I'm not afraid. Relationships aren't for everyone, you know. I remember reading somewhere that monogamy is a construct of modern civilization, but it's not natural for human beings. We need to shag lots of people in order to propagate the species."
And aren't I so fucking proud of myself for using all those big words. Won't she be so fucking impressed.
She snorts and shakes her head at me. "That's what players say to excuse their sleazy behavior. But you don't strike me as a sleazoid, so I'm guessing you have another, deep-seated reason for being afraid of commitment."
Oh yes, she's so fucking impressed. I really am an idiot, aren't I? Maybe I shouldn't have used the word shag in my little diatribe meant to convince her my lifestyle is noble.
I hope I'm not trying to convince myself of that.
Maybe there's a reason for my behavior, and I don't know what it is. Maybe I should figure that out.
Another time.
"What is a sleazoid?" I ask. "Can't tell if I should be offended until I know what on earth you're talking about. Is that another kind of alien being? Sleazoids must have red skin and forked tails to match their gia
nt, forked dicks."
"Do you have a forked dick?" She raises up on her toes, angling her head down and peering at my crotch. "Maybe you should show me, strictly so I can decide if you really are a sleazoid."
When she moves only her eyes to peek up at me through those thick lashes, her lips kink up at the corners. It's the sexiest thing I've ever seen, and of course, my dick loves it.
Is she trying to seduce me? Little Arden Clover Pesti, the virgin who believes in aliens? I've had women seduce me before---I've always loved when that happens---but none of those other women called me a sleazoid and asked to see my forked penis as part of the seduction. It shouldn't be working on me, but it is. I want to whip out my cock and show her the proof I'm not a sleazoid from the planet Arsehole.
Arden sighs and faces the elevator doors.
Everything she does and says makes me want to call my brother. I know exactly what I'll tell him. "Bugger off, Chance, I'm shagging Arden today. Tell Elena it's not my fault her friend is the world's first nymphomaniac virgin. Cheers. See you at the wedding."
Instead, I glare at the elevator doors until they slide open. Then I shake off my irritation and follow Arden out of the building, listening while she tells me about every building and object we pass on our trip to the park. I learn all about the street vendors too, and I buy us both ice cream cones along the way. I love watching her lick that ice cream. Her pink tongue snakes out, curls around the ice cream, and glides back into her mouth with the tip rolled over. With every sensuous lick, she closes her eyes and moans.
All I can do to stave off a flaming hard-on is to cough into my fist and focus on the most disgusting image I can think of---the rotting corpse of a dead hedgehog I'd once seen in the woods near my parents' house.
The image doesn't cure my problem, but it helps a little.
When we get to the park, Arden leads me down a wide, paved path that takes us past flowering trees and park benches. We see children flying kites and older men playing some sort of game inside a court that has a glass roof over it. Arden informs me they're playing bocce. I've heard of the game, but I have no idea what's involved.
"I don't really understand the game myself," she admits when I ask her about it. "But some people really like it. I once dated a guy who was totally into bocce, and he told me it's related to a British game called bowls. No idea what that is."