Hot Mess by Lynn Raye Harris Page A

counter and tossed the pasta into the pan, mixing it with short jerking motions of the skillet. “I don’t want to talk about this kind of stuff with you, that’s why. I’m not a prude, but it’s none of your business.”
    She was getting mad now and she didn’t quite know why. “It was my business when you had your hand between my legs and your tongue down my throat.”
    He dished some pasta onto a plate and set it in front of her. “That was twelve years ago, and I’m not discussing it with you.”
    Fury and hurt warred for space inside her. “Dammit, Sam, I’m sick of you treating me like I can’t make any decisions for myself. It was my choice to give you my virginity, and though it was your choice not to take it, you can’t pretend it never happened. It would have happened if you weren’t such a damned uptight sonofabitch—”
    His head snapped up. The look he gave her was so full of menace that the words died in her throat. “Is that what you think? Is that what you honestly fucking think? That I pushed you away because I was being a sonofabitch? Because I didn’t respect your choice? ” He leaned toward her then, until he was nearly in her face. “I respected you and your family too much to do that to you, Georgie. To screw you in the front seat of a beat-up pickup out by the lake when you deserved diamonds and silk and champagne?” He shook his head, hard. “No fucking way. You were trying to be a rebel, and trying to use me to do it. And that’s not a good enough reason.”
    She sat back in her chair, stunned. His words rang in her ears. Diamonds and silk and champagne. “You thought I was using you to rebel?”
    He dumped pasta on a plate for himself. “Why else? You could have had anyone, but you chose me. Your parents were good to me, but do you think they’d have been thrilled to know their little princess was out fucking the boy who, only by the grace of God and their good influence, wasn’t as much of a loser as he was destined to be?”
    She swallowed the lump in her throat. “You’ve got it all wrong, Sam. Every bit of it.” She could barely push the words past the tightness in her throat.
    He glared at her. “Have I? You wanted me because I was wrong for you, because I was the bad boy. You spent years building up that fantasy in your head. I saw it every time you looked at me.”
    She’d known when they’d been kids that he’d been lonely and sad, but she hadn’t known he’d felt like he was bad. How could he be bad? He’d been a part of their family, and her parents weren’t poor judges of character. Oh, he’d gotten into trouble here and there—but never anything serious, and never anything that lasted for long. He had been expelled once, but her dad had gone and had a long talk with the principal—and Sam was back in school again. She’d never doubted his character for one minute.
    “I wanted you because you made my heart sing. Yes, I was infatuated with you. I spent years being infatuated with you. None of it had anything to do with you being a bad boy. Were you a bad boy? I didn’t know it. All I knew was you were there, in my house, looking handsome and broody and sexy. You played guitar and sang, and you were nice to me—when you weren’t telling me what to do. I adored you for those reasons, no other. When you came home again, I was so certain you’d finally see me as a woman, not Rick’s annoying little sister. Yes, I came after you and I wanted you to be my first—hell, I probably wanted you to be my only, but I did have a healthy fantasy life back then and the idea of marrying you and moving from Army base to Army base seemed like an adventure.” She shrugged. “I’m sorry if you felt like I was using you. It was the furthest thing from my mind, believe me.”
    He was staring at her. “It’s post.”
    “I’m sorry?” She’d said all that, and all he could say was something nonsensical?
    “Army post. It’s an Air Force base; an Army