A Little Bit Wild by Victoria Dahl

trembling, she opened the note.
    My Darling,
    Despite my rash words, I would not ever see you come to harm. Please forgive my behavior. My passion far you misrepresented itself as rudeness. I love you.
    Pray, reconsider your refusal of my offer. I would spend every night as I spent that brief hour in your arms.
    "Hour," she muttered. It had been hardly thirty minutes in all, and yet it had felt an eternity.
    I am humbled by the gift you granted me. Please be my wife.
    For a moment, she thought affectionately of Mr. White's legs. Of his closely shaven jaw and tender hands. Those hands had looked so promising, and yet they'd delivered so little pleasure. His thighs hadn't brought much pleasure either, but at least he hadn't marred her face with a stubblcd chin. Could she marry him?
    Her mind rebelled at the thought. Perhaps dancing wasn't as important to her as she'd believed. She did not give Mr. White's proposal another moment of thought. Instead, she folded the note with a sigh and was turning to leave when she saw that she wasn't alone. Jude lounged in the doorway. "Oh! I was just..."
    "He isn't blackmailing you. is he?" She realized then that the mysterious smile was finally gone. In its place was ice and warning.
    "No! No, it's nothing like that. He only says he loves me."
    "Ah. Are you inclined to forgive him?"
    "Of course not!"
    The iciness melted into a satisfied smile. "Good." He sauntered in and wandered toward the settee. "So, Miss York, this is the site of innocence lost."
    "Mr. Bertrand!" she gasped.
    He winked and dropped onto the settee, patting the seat beside him. "It's Jude, remember?"
    "Jude," she mumbled.
    "So, tell me something, Miss York. Was it worth it?"
    Her body hovered in a strange place, half cool with horror and the other half chinning with an odd excitement. This man sat there and said these outrageous words as if they were perfectly acceptable. As if they shouldn't offend her. As if she would want to speak of them.
    She eyed the cushion next to him.
    "It can be enjoyable, you know."
    "I know that," she snapped, before dropping down beside him.
    "Was it?"
    "No," she huffed.
    He stiffened beside her. "He wasn't rough?"
    "Oh, no! He was only ... unimpressive." As soon as the word left her mouth, Marissa realized how inappropriate it was. How should she know of such things? "I mean—"
    But Jude was laughing beside her. "Unimpressive, eh? Well, that is a tragedy, but perhaps a welcome one for a lady's loss of innocence."
    "How so?"
    Jude leaned back and stretched his arms across the back. "It can be painful, and I would hate to think of you in pain."
    "Well, there was a bit of discomfort, but I rather think that was due to him squishing me." She snuck a glance at Jude. "Now that I think of it, you look unfortunately heavy."
    He tilted his head in such gracious acknowledgment that she felt churlish. "I can assure you I've not yet squished a lady. Not even once."
    Interest prickled through her with a feeling like all the hair on her body standing at attention. "So ... are you very experienced, then?"
    "Experienced enough."
    "What does that mean? Among gentlemen, I mean. There is an entirely different standard from what I can gather."
    He settled one ankle on his knee, and his thigh ended up very near her hand. "It means that I have had practice at bringing women pleasure."
    Pleasure. The very prize she'd been seeking to reclaim ever since that fateful night two years before. Pleasure. And aching. And surprise. A knot low in her belly seemed to acquire weight. She squeezed her thighs together. She hadn't thought Jude Bertrand could make her feel that way with his inelegant largeness.
    But his words were so ... plump with confidence. Not arrogance. Just assuredness. He had no doubt he knew how to bring pleasure, and so she had no doubt as well.
    "Is it—" Her voice emerged a bit cracked, so she cleared her throat and tried again. "Is it a secret then? The way to bring a woman pleasure?"
    "From what I've