The Virgin's Guide to Misbehaving

by Jessica Clare

  He rubbed his sweaty chest, watching as her gaze flicked there, then skittered away again. “Was just going to take a shower, but it can wait a bit. What’s up?”

  “I . . . uh.” She swallowed audibly.

  Hell, he was making her nervous. He needed to calm her down. Rome walked past her, trying to make it seem like he had shy girls in his cabin all the time, and headed to the small bureau where he kept his even smaller stash of clothes and pulled out a new shirt, tugging it over his head. It felt like a crime to toss a clean shirt over his dirty body, but if she was nervous at the sight of him, he wanted to do what he could to help her stay.

  Curiosity was going to kill him at this rate.

  “So . . . you remember last night?” The words came out in a rush.

  He turned to look at her and grinned. “It was fun. Beer and good company. Can’t complain.”

  A hint of a smile curved her full mouth and he was entranced by that. “Me either.” She blinked rapidly a moment later, and her nervousness returned. “You know the game we played?”

  “Yep, I remember.”

  Her hand stroked her hair again, pushing it against her cheek in that odd motion. It was almost like she was trying to hide her face behind it, which was bizarre. “I didn’t answer some of the questions.”

  “I didn’t, either. That’s why we got so loaded.” He grinned at her to take the sting out of his words.

  “I didn’t answer any of the sexual questions,” she said in a small voice, and her gaze dropped again. “You might have noticed that.”

  “I might have,” he said slowly. She looked like she wanted to crawl through the floorboards and disappear into the ground. “Why?”

  “I didn’t answer them because . . .” She swallowed hard again. “I don’t have any experience. None.”

  Rome stilled.

  He’d suspected as much, but hearing her admit it, her body tense with anxiety, was an entirely different thing. Why was she confessing this, and confessing it now?

  “I guess . . .” She paused, thinking. “So. I haven’t told anyone, but my photos for the shoot were rejected. Everyone says the same thing every time. Not enough life experience.”

  She looked so frustrated and unhappy that he felt a twinge of pity. “That seems unfair.”

  “They’re right.” Her eyes focused on him, and for a moment, gone was the shyness. “They’re all right. I’m twenty-four years old and I’ve been sheltered and protected all my life. I’ve been missing out on everything. I was homeschooled and then I went to a girls’ school. I attended a small, private women’s college and graduated as fast as I could. I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’ve never had sex. I’ve never spent the night with a man. I’m missing out on everything, and I’m so sick and tired of it. And I want to change. I want to experience things.” Elise’s voice took on a soft, wistful note. “I want to go to parties and stay out all night. I want to do crazy things. I want to have sex under the stars. I want to do everything. I want to go wild and experience life.”

  During her impassioned speech, Rome went from surprised to angry. At first, he’d been flattered that soft, sweet Elise was coming on to him, but then she started talking about “going wild” and “doing crazy things” and he realized she was approaching him because he was tatted and pierced and rode a bike. It wasn’t him she was interested in, he realized, but what he represented. And he’d been hit on like this before. Some sheltered woman figured she’d find herself a biker to slum with, and he’d leap at the chance to nail her.

  And Rome was disappointed. He’d thought Elise would be different than that. Didn’t seem like that was the case. He crossed his arms over his chest. “So why are you telling me this?”

  That flash of surprise crossed her pretty face and she began to fuss with her hair again, dragging it over her cheek. “I . . . uh, thought it was obvious.”

  “That you want to go slumming?” His voice was cold.

  “What?” She looked genuinely surprised.

  “That’s what this is about, right? You want to live on the wild side a little, so you picked me to hit on because I look just dangerous enough to appease your sensibilities?” He let his tone show just how disgusted he was with the thought.

  “No,” she said softly. “I picked you b-b-because you kissed me.” She looked utterly crushed, blinking rapidly as if fighting back tears. She grabbed the cookie plate and moved toward the door.

  Ah, hell. Rome stopped her, putting an arm against the doorjamb and preventing her from skittering away. “You telling me you’ve never been kissed?”

  “I have,” she mumbled, but she wouldn’t look at him.

  “You have,” he repeated. He wasn’t sure he believed that.

  “A guy kissed me once,” she said, and her voice was so low he could barely hear it. “On a dare. It was at a dog party.”

  A dog party? What the fuck? He knew what dog parties were. They were little shindigs thrown by bored, asshole kids who recruited the worst date they could find to parade in front of their friends. They were cruel, shitty things. Why was someone as sweet and vulnerable—and hell, gorgeous—as Elise invited to a dog party? Because she was shy? It didn’t make sense. “I think I’m missing a piece of the puzzle here.”

  She pushed at his arm, indicating she wanted to leave.

  He ignored it. In fact, he leaned against the doorjamb, blocking the door entirely. “Why were you at a dog party?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? I was the dog.” Her voice held a note of bitterness.

  “Actually, no,” he drawled. “It’s not obvious. You’re not a dog, Elise. That’s why I’m so confused about this whole mess. I get that you’re shy. I don’t get why someone as pretty as you would get invited to something like that.”

  She swallowed hard, and her face was tilted away from him. “You think I’m pretty?”

  “I have eyes, don’t I?”

  She looked at him, then, and her eyes were shining with tears, even though her mouth was curved into a faint smile. “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “Don’t thank me,” he said gruffly. “Just explain.”

  She licked her lips, and he hated that he was fascinated by that little flick of pink tongue. “After the party, I had laser treatments. On my face.” Her hands brushed over her cheek. “I had a really large port-wine stain. From here”—she touched the tip of her eyebrow—“to here.”

  And she touched her chin.

  Rome frowned. She was looking away from him again—looking anywhere but at him, actually. He touched her chin and tilted her head toward him, and she closed her eyes but let him examine her face.

  There. Just barely there was a faint staining of her skin. He’d never noticed it before, but now that she’d mentioned it, he could see a faint, too-pink shadow covering one side of her face. It was the cheek she always dragged her hair over, and he realized this must be what she was trying to hide from him. The skin was smooth—almost too smooth, he realized, and the discoloration was faint, like a tan that had occurred on only one cheek.

  He wondered how much of it had been lasered away. “This is what makes you think you’re ugly?” His thumb brushed over her jaw.

  She shuddered against his touch, a tremble racking through her. A tear spilled down her cheek, dripping onto his fingers. “Most of it is gone, but I still see it every time I look in the mirror.” Elise straightened her shoulders and reluctantly pulled away from his touch.

  That small confession went a long way toward helping him understand her, though. What, he wondered, was this costing her? She agonized over speaking to him. Confessing about her scar must be killing her, he realized.

  And he hated that.

  Rome reached up and brushed his fingers over her cheek again. She jerked away, startled, her eyes wide, as if shocked that he’d touch her. Did she always think like that? Like she was a hideous beast that no one would want to touch?

  Fuck. No wonder she was so shy.

  “Is that why you’ve
only had the one kiss?”

  “Two, now,” she said softly. Her gaze dropped to the floor again.

  Ah, yes. That quick little peck he’d given her in the woods. If that counted as a kiss, then damn, the girl needed a real one. “So that’s why you picked me? Not because you want to go slumming with someone from the wrong side of the tracks, but because I kissed you?”

  She looked up at him, startled, and he realized the thought had never crossed her mind. “I like your eyes, too,” she blurted, and then her face lit up a bright red, the stain on her cheek becoming more obvious with her blush.

  He couldn’t help it; he laughed.

  Elise made a soft whimpering noise and pushed at him, trying to get him away from the door.

  He didn’t budge. Oh no. This girl was not going anywhere.

  “So,” he murmured. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

  FIVE

  What did she have in mind? Was he going to make her say it? She thought it was obvious. Hadn’t she made it clear what she wanted from him?

  Elise stared up at him. It was hard to look at him directly; every instinct in her body told her to flee, to run away before he hurt her feelings.

  But the look in Rome’s eyes was soft, and she remembered his light touch on her cheek that had sent shivers through her body and awakened things she thought she’d never get the chance to feel with a man. Things that usually happened only under the covers, late at night when she touched herself.

  When she was silent, he raised an eyebrow at her. A pierced eyebrow.

  Okay, so he was going to make her say it.

  “Well,” she began softly. “Um . . . I’d really like to have sex.”

  “Right now?”

  She could feel her cheeks heating. “It doesn’t have to be right now, no.”

  His mouth twitched. “Tomorrow, then?”

  Oh god, would she be ready tomorrow? What did she need to do to prepare? She hadn’t given much thought to talking to him beyond handing him cookies and hoping for the best. “I suppose tomorrow works? What time is best for you?”

  He laughed.

  Her heart stuttered in her chest out of fear, and she flinched backward, hurt.

  Immediately, his hands were smoothing down her hair, holding her in place. “I’m not laughing at you, Elise,” he soothed, gazing into her eyes. His hand brushed over her cheek again, and she wanted to lean into that soft touch. “I’m laughing at the thought of making an appointment to have sex with a virgin. Don’t you think we should start smaller? Maybe with kissing?”

  “Oh.” She smiled and let out a long breath. “Yes, that sounds good.” Kissing. They could start with kissing.

  “And did you want to kiss me? Or shall I kiss you?”

  “You really want to go through with this? With me?” The words erupted out of her before she could stop them.

  Rome smiled again, and his hands slid from her hair to cup her face gently. “Let’s see. A gorgeous, smart, funny girl is asking me to have sex with her and is surprised that I’m interested? Is this a joke?”

  She shook her head, even though it was trapped by his hands. It wasn’t a joke. “You think I’m gorgeous?”

  “When you’re around, I have a hard time looking away from you,” he said, and she watched his lips form the words, fascinated. “But,” he said, continuing, “I tell myself it’s a bad idea and I should stay away.”

  That broke her out of the soft, delicious bubble created by his voice. “What? Why?”

  “Your brother is my boss and he’s very protective of you,” Rome said, and he dropped his hands. “And I’m just the tatted-up hoodlum he’s looking for any excuse to fire.”

  “He wouldn’t fire you for having sex with me.”

  “Wouldn’t he?”

  Well, okay, so Grant might. He was just as overprotective as her parents. Everyone was determined to smother her, weren’t they? God, that was so frustrating. A surge of anger shot through her, burning away any lingering shyness. She was her own person, wasn’t she? If she wanted to kiss and date a man covered in tattoos and piercings, she could.

  So she steeled her courage, looked up at Rome, and put her hands on his chest. “What if I’m the one kissing you?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, if I’m the one kissing you, he can’t fire you for kissing me back, can he?”

  Rome’s mouth twisted into a wry smile. “That’s not how it works, sugar.”

  “So you’re telling me no?”

  He sighed. “I should, shouldn’t I? I’m probably the wrong guy for this. I’m not good with this sort of thing, and your brother will kill me if he finds out, and I really need this job.” But then he placed his hand over hers on his chest and rubbed it, clearly trying to soothe her.

  Those hands touching her were like magic. She felt each brush of his callused thumb over her skin as if it were sweeping over her entire body. “We just won’t tell him,” Elise offered.

  “Your car’s out front, isn’t it?”

  Elise sighed in frustration. It was. That meant anyone who pulled into the parking lot would see it and know she was here. The ranch wasn’t busy enough that she could hide her car and hope no one would see it. “Then we meet somewhere else,” she suggested, thinking. She scratched at his skin through the thin material of his shirt, idly fascinated by the hard, warm muscle underneath. “Maybe the bed-and-breakfast?”

  “Too public,” Rome told her, and his voice had dropped to a husky whisper that made her skin prickle. Oh god, she loved the sound of his voice when he was speaking low and private like that.

  “What about Beth Ann’s salon?” she asked breathlessly. “I have the keys and she’s gone for the next few weeks.”

  “Has potential. Tomorrow, then?”

  “Tomorrow?” She stared at him, dazed. Her gaze slid back to his mouth, that beautiful, firm mouth with the ring on the side of his lower lip. “What’s tomorrow?”

  He chuckled. “You said you weren’t ready for sex today.”

  “Oh. Right.” She felt her face heat again. “I need to get ready.”

  “Ready how?”

  “I honestly have no idea,” she admitted.

  He chuckled and put a finger underneath her chin. “I’ll bring condoms if you want. We can meet after work, at six. How’s that.”

  Oh god. They were meeting after work. She was going to have sex tomorrow. Elise swallowed hard around the knot in her throat, and she nodded. “Good. Sounds good. And I’ll get the condoms. Don’t worry about that. No problem.”

  She didn’t want to seem like a total ninny in front of him, after all.

  His finger tilted her chin up. “Look at me.”

  She blinked, looking up. She hadn’t realized, but she’d been staring—and talking—to his chest for most of the conversation.

  “Do you want a kiss?”

  Oh. Oh god. Did she ever. But worry shot through her and she dropped her gaze again. What if she messed it up? What if she was a terrible kisser and he decided to call things off? What if he—

  “Elise,” Rome murmured, and his thumb held her chin firmly, angling her back up. “Look at me. Quit panicking. You’re not going to do it wrong. It’s just a kiss. If you’re not good at it at first, you’ll get better. I’ll show you how. Understand?”

  She blinked rapidly and looked up at him again, her breath coming in shallow, nervous little pants. Then, she nodded. “Okay. Kiss. Yes. I mean, yes, I would like a kiss.” Her face hurt from all the blushing she was doing.

  “Good. Because you’re not leaving here without one.” He continued to hold her chin and his face leaned in toward hers, mouth parted.

  And Elise realized he was going to kiss her right now. She gave a nervous squeak, only to have it smothered by his mouth.

  Her entire body tensed and her eyes closed. He was kissing her! She should relax and enjoy it, but the shock of it made her mouth firm into a thin line, and she began to breathe faster through her nos
e—and then stopped, because she didn’t want him to think she was snorting like a bull. She didn’t know what to do. The stubble on his face rasped against her cheeks—not an unpleasant feeling, really, just a different one—and she could feel he was still sweaty from his time on the paintball course. His mouth moved gently over hers, though, and his lips felt curiously hard and soft at the same time. She could feel that ring, too, and—

  “Elise,” he murmured against her mouth. “Relax.”

  “Okay—” she began to say, but his tongue swept into her mouth instead. She made a sound of surprise, but it was swallowed by him. His tongue brushed against hers, and then her entire body lit up in response.

  Oh . . . oh wow. So that was a kiss. His mouth, wet and hot on her own, the flick of his tongue brushing against her own, his lips melding to hers. He was insistent, his mouth working against hers in an almost reflexive, sweeping motion that made her want to open wider. So she did, and his tongue slid deep, so deep that she practically felt it between her legs.

  Elise moaned as his tongue thrust into her mouth again, and he kept the kiss deep and wet and slick, working over her mouth. Eventually, he pulled away, and she mewed a protest. But he didn’t go far; instead, he began to press small, soft kisses on her lips. First her upper lip, then her lower. He ran his tongue over her lower lip, tracing it with the tip, and then bit gently on it and sucked.

  And she felt all of that, every ounce, between her legs. Her knees went weak. It wasn’t just a kiss. It felt like he was making love to her mouth.

  Elise realized that this was what he was offering. This sensual feasting upon each other. His mouth on her, making her nipples ache and her pulse beat between her legs. She wanted his touch everywhere. Had she said she’d wait until tomorrow? She wanted him now, and she wanted to experience everything right at that moment. If he’d have led her to the bed, she’d have gone gladly without a second thought.

  Rome pulled away and Elise felt bereft. Her eyes opened and she looked into his face. His eyes were such a gorgeous, dark blue, his lashes thick. And his expression was as if he wanted to devour her whole, a mixture of hunger and possession. It made her weak in the knees to see it.