way.
“Hi there.”
She looked up, hoping for Scott, but instead found a burly but handsome linebacker type with mussed hair. Her best guess—spring break. “Hi.”
“You’re too pretty to be alone. What are you drinking?”
“I’m not really alone—he’s due anytime now.”
“Hell,” the guy said, sounding more perturbed than the first had. She got the idea he was already well on his way to being drunk, and maybe she hadn’t been the first girl to rebuff his advances tonight. “You tell him I said he’s one lucky son of a bitch.”
“I’ll do that,” she promised. “Have a nice evening.” Then she refocused on her drink menu, completely uninterested in either of the two men who’d just approached her.
But then she suddenly stopped, blinked, wondering why. After all, they were both fairly hot—and just yesterday they would have fit the bill of what she was looking for to slake her naughty needs.
But now that she’d been with Scott, well—she wanted to see him again. Only him at the moment, it turned out. Totally casual sex had been fun and wild and sexy, but she liked even better the idea of being with someone she’d already been with, someone whose sexual skills she already knew she liked very well.
“Hey there, rich girl, you didn’t stand me up.”
She sat up straighter and gave him a smile, forgetting every thought in her head at his arrival. Sliding onto the stool next to her, he looked just as good as she remembered.
Tonight he wore a distressed blue T-shirt advertising the Party Barge and khaki cargo shorts.
“You thought I would?” she asked.
He shrugged, grinned. “You never know.” Then he pointed toward one of the drinks on the menu still in her hand. “I recommend the Sunset Blast.”
So when finally a female bartender—a blonde named Shay, who Scott seemed to know—came to take their order, they both asked for a Sunset Blast, a concoction made with two types of rum, some grenadine, some schnapps, and a couple of fruit juices.
She couldn’t help asking, “Seriously, why did you think I wouldn’t come?”
Another shrug from her new lover. “Thought maybe you’d had all the fun with me you intended to have. Rich girls get bored easily.”
“And you’re an authority on this?”
He tilted his head. “You meet a lot of different types of girls here.”
“Well, maybe I’m not like all the other rich girls.”
He met her gaze. “You’re a hell of a lot more fun than most of them, I can tell you that.”
“I’m glad you think so,” she said, but there it was again—a telltale warmth climbed her cheeks. Somehow, here, on his turf, it wasn’t as easy to be the wild child she’d been last night. Maybe it had been easier when it had been only a one-night thing—something she’d not thought of until just now.
“Whoa,” he said, “are you blushing?”
Oh hell. “Shocking but true.” She rolled her eyes at herself. “Could be there’s more to me than you saw last night, pirate boy.”
He cast a grin, clearly intrigued. “Tell me more, rich girl.”
Just then, their drinks arrived, so she shored herself by taking a big sip—both delicious and instantly intoxicating, which she needed at the moment. “Okay, here it is.
I’m twenty-six years old and I’ve never done…anything real.”
Next to her, he lowered his chin. “Define real.”
She shook her head, trying to think of how to explain. “I’ve been under my father’s thumb my whole life, going to private schools, letting him pick my friends—and boyfriends—and…I’ve never even been to a bar like this. With peanut shells on the floor. Which I love, by the way. It’s so…casual.”
His smile was sincere but teasing. “And here I thought you liked your satin sheets so much.”
“Well,” she said, “you have to admit they are luxurious. And yes, I like nice things—a lot. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to experience normal life.”
He raised his eyebrows. “So
“Hi there.”
She looked up, hoping for Scott, but instead found a burly but handsome linebacker type with mussed hair. Her best guess—spring break. “Hi.”
“You’re too pretty to be alone. What are you drinking?”
“I’m not really alone—he’s due anytime now.”
“Hell,” the guy said, sounding more perturbed than the first had. She got the idea he was already well on his way to being drunk, and maybe she hadn’t been the first girl to rebuff his advances tonight. “You tell him I said he’s one lucky son of a bitch.”
“I’ll do that,” she promised. “Have a nice evening.” Then she refocused on her drink menu, completely uninterested in either of the two men who’d just approached her.
But then she suddenly stopped, blinked, wondering why. After all, they were both fairly hot—and just yesterday they would have fit the bill of what she was looking for to slake her naughty needs.
But now that she’d been with Scott, well—she wanted to see him again. Only him at the moment, it turned out. Totally casual sex had been fun and wild and sexy, but she liked even better the idea of being with someone she’d already been with, someone whose sexual skills she already knew she liked very well.
“Hey there, rich girl, you didn’t stand me up.”
She sat up straighter and gave him a smile, forgetting every thought in her head at his arrival. Sliding onto the stool next to her, he looked just as good as she remembered.
Tonight he wore a distressed blue T-shirt advertising the Party Barge and khaki cargo shorts.
“You thought I would?” she asked.
He shrugged, grinned. “You never know.” Then he pointed toward one of the drinks on the menu still in her hand. “I recommend the Sunset Blast.”
So when finally a female bartender—a blonde named Shay, who Scott seemed to know—came to take their order, they both asked for a Sunset Blast, a concoction made with two types of rum, some grenadine, some schnapps, and a couple of fruit juices.
She couldn’t help asking, “Seriously, why did you think I wouldn’t come?”
Another shrug from her new lover. “Thought maybe you’d had all the fun with me you intended to have. Rich girls get bored easily.”
“And you’re an authority on this?”
He tilted his head. “You meet a lot of different types of girls here.”
“Well, maybe I’m not like all the other rich girls.”
He met her gaze. “You’re a hell of a lot more fun than most of them, I can tell you that.”
“I’m glad you think so,” she said, but there it was again—a telltale warmth climbed her cheeks. Somehow, here, on his turf, it wasn’t as easy to be the wild child she’d been last night. Maybe it had been easier when it had been only a one-night thing—something she’d not thought of until just now.
“Whoa,” he said, “are you blushing?”
Oh hell. “Shocking but true.” She rolled her eyes at herself. “Could be there’s more to me than you saw last night, pirate boy.”
He cast a grin, clearly intrigued. “Tell me more, rich girl.”
Just then, their drinks arrived, so she shored herself by taking a big sip—both delicious and instantly intoxicating, which she needed at the moment. “Okay, here it is.
I’m twenty-six years old and I’ve never done…anything real.”
Next to her, he lowered his chin. “Define real.”
She shook her head, trying to think of how to explain. “I’ve been under my father’s thumb my whole life, going to private schools, letting him pick my friends—and boyfriends—and…I’ve never even been to a bar like this. With peanut shells on the floor. Which I love, by the way. It’s so…casual.”
His smile was sincere but teasing. “And here I thought you liked your satin sheets so much.”
“Well,” she said, “you have to admit they are luxurious. And yes, I like nice things—a lot. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to experience normal life.”
He raised his eyebrows. “So
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