Which meant, of course, that Rome chose that moment to turn around with two new drinks.
She dropped her hand, feeling guilty and obvious as he returned to their table.
“You okay?”
She nodded, face hot, and looked for a change of subject. When he set a glass in front of her, that seemed like the perfect opportunity. “So what’s this drink?”
“I got you a Crown and Coke. It’s a little easier than a shot and it’ll keep your nice buzz going.”
“How do you know I have a buzz?” She picked up the glass and sniffed it.
Rome grinned at her, that piercing on his lip catching her attention. “Because your eyes are all soft and you’re smiling at me instead of looking like you want to crawl under the table.”
“Oh.” Yep, that’d do it.
“You feeling better?”
She nodded and lifted the drink to her lips, taking a small taste. It was strong, but smoother than the shots she’d done. “So are you trying to get me drunk so you can have your way with me?”
He laughed, taking a healthy swig of his own drink. “Nope. Just wanted you to relax a little. You looked pretty tense earlier.”
She was.
“You regretting things?”
“I kinda figured you would be,” she admitted.
He frowned as if she’d said something strange. “Me? Why?”
Elise pulled her hair forward, dragging it across her bad cheek. “Obvious reasons.”
He lifted his pierced eyebrow. “Obvious reasons like . . . what?”
She snorted. “Obvious reasons usually don’t need explaining.”
“I think this one does,” he said slowly. When she went to lift her drink again, he put a hand over her wrist. “Maybe you slow it down on the alcohol a little. You don’t have to drink it all at once. I want you to have a nice, friendly buzz, not get sloppy drunk. That wasn’t my goal here.”
Oh. She put her drink back down.
“Now, tell me why I wouldn’t want to have sex with you.”
For some reason, the knot that usually formed in her stomach was relaxed, and she shrugged and gestured at herself. “This. All this.”
Rome leaned back in his chair. “What’s wrong with all this? I thought it looked pretty damn good tonight, myself.”
He did. Rome always looked good, but tonight he looked dangerously so. She couldn’t stop staring at the piercings on his face that seemed to only make him more attractive, the black inkwork that peeked out from under the collar of his long-sleeved tight black T-shirt, and the jeans that hugged his ass just right. Even his beat-up combat boots looked rugged and masculine and totally, completely Rome. But herself? Dressed up in totteringly high heels and a shirt she’d have never left the store with? “This isn’t me.”
“How is it not you?”
She sighed heavily, leaning forward to prop an elbow on the table and place her chin on her hand. Her hair draped over her shoulder, and Rome leaned in and brushed it back. “I borrowed this stuff from the photo shoot because I wanted to be pretty,” she admitted in a low voice.
“You’re always pretty.” His blue eyes held her captive.
She snorted, feeling loose enough to argue with him. “Bullshit, Rome.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Why is that bullshit?”
She glanced around to see if anyone was paying attention to them. When she was satisfied nobody was, she leaned in and drew a circle in the air, focusing on her cheek. “This. And other stuff.”
“Other stuff?” he asked, and he reached out to touch her, brushing his hand over her cheek where the port-wine stain used to be. “Such as?”
She lowered her voice and leaned in. “My body.”
“What’s wrong with your body?”
“It’s crooked. Scoliosis. And I have a scar.” She nodded slowly and gestured. “Great big one.”
His lips twitched with amusement and he leaned in, gesturing that she should move closer. “I don’t know if you noticed,” he said in a low voice, “but I have a lot of tattoos.”
“I noticed.”
“So I think I can handle a scar or two.”
“And I didn’t have any pretty underwear,” she told him sadly. “No girly cute stuff. Never had a reason to buy it before.”
“So . . . you didn’t want to have sex with me because of your scar and because you didn’t have cute underwear?”
Why did it look like he was trying hard not to laugh? She was having a serious conversation with him, darn it. She nodded, trying to give him a haughty look. “These things are important.”
“You know what I think?”
“What?”
“I think two shots of Jäger was too much.” He reached for her Crown and Coke. “Maybe I should drink that.”
She held it away from him, and when he raised an eyebrow, she took another sip, giving him a challenging look. “I like how I feel.”
“Oh, I bet you do.”
Gosh, he was so cute when he smiled. He was smiling at her right now, all blue eyes and long lashes and piercings. The septum piercing in his nose gave him a dangerous look, but it was the lip piercing that she found so fascinating. She wanted to touch it, suddenly, and reached forward to graze her thumb over his lower lip. It was so soft, so wonderfully in contrast with the hard metal of the ring. She ran her fingers over it, fascinated.
He took the tip of her thumb between his lips and brushed against it with his tongue.
She sucked in a breath, heat flooding through her body. Oh wow.
“So were those the only reasons you didn’t want to have sex, Elise?” He pulled her hand away from his lip and held her wrist, and began to slowly press nibbling kisses on her palm.
She stared at the sight, fascinated by the tickling motions, and feeling that sexy heat climb through her body again. His mouth on her skin was incredible to watch. “I don’t want to be in another dog party,” she admitted in a low voice. “It hurts too much.”
His fingers tightened on her wrist, just a bit. “I would never do that to you, Elise. I think you’re gorgeous. Incredibly shy, but sexy as hell. And I want you to not be shy around me, because I’m no better or worse than you. I’m just me and you’re just you, understand?”
“It’s hard,” she admitted in a low voice. “No one’s ever wanted me for me before.”
“I know the same feeling.” He pressed another kiss to her palm, his tongue swiping against the heel in a way that made her tingle. “And they’re idiots.”
She smiled.
“That’s better,” he said, nipping at her palm again and then stroking over it with his tongue. “And if you’re not ready for sex quite yet, I’m fine with that. Most people don’t jump right in, you know.”
“I’m ready for sex,” Elise admitted. “I bought condoms at the pharmacy. Ribbed for my pleasure. I’m just a big chicken.”
Rome chuckled. “Fair enough.”
“I don’t want to be chicken, though.”
“You don’t have to be chicken forever,” he said with a grin that made her knees weak. “We’ll work through that.”
“Okay,” she breathed, entranced by his smile.
“So.” He studied her palm, holding it in one hand and tracing a finger down it with the other. It kept her neatly trapped close to him, and stopped her from drinking. Not that she was objecting to any of that. She was fascinated by his small touches. No one ever touched her because they just wanted to touch her.
She almost wept with the sheer delight of it.
“If you want life experience, Elise, I’m here to help you in whatever you need.”
“Thank you,” she told him, unable to take her eyes off his finger on her hand as it traced the lines of her palm.
“What did you have in mind?”
“I honestly have no clue,” she admitted.
“You can’t think of anything you’d like to do?” He seemed surprised by that.
She thought for a minute, her mind circling.
What could she do in Bluebonnet? She was here to take photos . . . Her mind suddenly flashed on Beth Ann’s salon, still set up like a photo studio. “Would you let me take more pictures of you?”
“Of course,” he said, and kissed her fingertip. It made her nipples harden in response.
“Nude?”
He paused. “What?”
“Too much?” She was disappointed. “Maybe just topless?”
He looked surprised. “You want to take nude pictures of me?”
She slid her chair closer, pulling her hand from his, and then she was practically squeezing next to him on his side of the table. Her hand slid over his arm, pushing up the short sleeve of his black shirt, and she stared at his tattoos and the lines of his muscles. “This is beautiful, you know. You’re beautiful to me. I’d love to photograph this. All ink and muscle and skin and light and shadow.” Her fingers slid under the shirt and she kept touching all that skin, so warm and delicious. “Mmm.”
“God damn, Elise,” he murmured hoarsely, leaning in to press a kiss on her jaw as she cuddled closer. “You sure you’re a virgin? Because you’re making my dick hard as fuck.”
She nodded and slid her hands out of his shirt, tilting her mouth toward his for a kiss. “All virgin.” And his mouth was so close to hers that she wanted to lick that little ring on his lip, just a bit of a tease with her mouth. So she did.
And he gave a small groan low in his throat that was gorgeous to hear.
“So can I do more photos of you?” she whispered against his mouth, barely audible through the music blaring in the background. “Sexy, gorgeous photos of all this skin?”
“I don’t know if I’ll do nude,” he told her softly, and his tongue snaked out to graze against her lips in a way that made her whimper. “But we’ll start with shirtless and take it from there. Sound good?”
“I can’t wait,” she breathed. And she really couldn’t. “I want to see what you look like under all this. I want to see every one of your tattoos. I want to touch them.”
His mouth slid over hers again in the barest approximation of a kiss. “For a virgin, you sure do talk sexy.”
“Do I?” She seemed pleased at that. “It’s too bad we can’t do the photo shoot tonight, but all my equipment is back at the Peppermint House.”
“We’re not doing anything tonight,” he told her in a firm voice, and pulled away from her. “You’re a little more tipsy than I’d prefer.”
Well, poop. He was abandoning her? She draped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her chest against him, enjoying his low groan of frustration. “But what if I want to do all kinds of things tonight? All kinds of naughty things?”
“Elise,” he murmured. “Damn it. I didn’t know you’d be a cuddly drunk if I got a few shots in you.”
She trailed her fingers along the collar of his shirt and then dipped one in to touch the dip at the base of his collarbone. “I can do more than cuddle if you want. I’m feeling pretty good right now—”
“No—” He pried her hand out of his shirt.
“—but we’d have to have the lights off.”
“I . . . Huh?” He gave her an odd look. “You want the lights off? For the photo shoot?”
“No, for sex.”
He rolled his eyes. “There’s nothing wrong with your body, Elise. And I intend to show you that. As for tonight, we’re not doing anything more intimate than, say . . . playing darts.” He gestured at the nearby dartboard.
“We’re not?” She stuck her lower lip out at him.
“We’re not,” he said, and got up from the table. He returned a moment later with darts in hand and gave her the blue ones. “Come on. I need a distraction and I’m betting you’ve never played darts in a biker bar.”
He needed a distraction, did he? Just when she was feeling cuddly and a bit, dare she say it, horny? “But what if I want to make out?”
“Not tonight,” he told her firmly. “You’re too drunk and it’s my fault. Now, darts.”
She picked up one of the darts and then gave him another pouting look. “But I wanted to kiss you again.”
“Darts.”
“But—”
“Darts,” he repeated.
She gave the darts in her hand a long look, and then lifted one to her mouth and licked the length of it suggestively.
He groaned and took it away from her. “You know what? No darts after all. I don’t think I’m going to be able to stand for much longer.”
Elise giggled.
SIX
An hour later, they’d paid the bar tab and driven back to Bluebonnet. Elise was surprised to find the bike pulling up to the Peppermint House. She frowned as Rome helped her off the bike. “I left my car behind the salon.”
“Give me your phone.”
Her eyes widened and she handed it to him. “Are you going to text me dirty pictures?”
“No, I’m going to give you my number. Call me tomorrow and I’ll drive you to get your car.”
“You’re no fun,” she told him, wrapping her arms around his neck as he put his number into her phone. He put an arm around her waist to balance her, since she was a little tipsy, and she liked that. He was so warm and so big. Her mouth was also rather close to his ear, and one of those fascinating gauges was inches away from her lips. She wondered if she could stick the tip of her tongue through the hole, and licked his ear experimentally.
Rome groaned again. “God damn, Elise. I’m not getting you drunk again until after we have sex, because you are one frisky girl when you get a bit of alcohol in you.”
She giggled and sucked on his earlobe. “I like touching you,” she murmured.
“Christ, I like touching you, too, and I wish to hell you weren’t drunk,” he told her, dragging her away. “Now,” he said, handing back her phone. “Call me tomorrow, okay?”
She bit her lip and nodded, giving him a wide-eyed stare. “Tomorrow.”
“That’s right.” He stared at her for a long moment, and then grabbed her by the face and gave her a long, hot, tongue-filled kiss that made her knees all weak again. Then he released her just as fast. “Fuck, I’m going to regret not screwing you in the morning.”
“Me too,” she said with a sigh.
“Call me,” he demanded, pointing at the phone.
“I will,” she said, smiling drunkenly.
• • •
Oh god, she was never going to live this down.
Elise pulled the blankets over her head, wishing her memories would go away.
Call him? Not in this lifetime.
Seriously, how drunk was she last night? Elise rolled over in bed, blanching at the weird taste in her mouth and squinting at the daylight seeping through the blankets. She’d only had two shots and a mixed drink, right? Well, okay, she vaguely remembered stealing a couple of sips from Rome’s drink when he wasn’t drinking it fast enough. That had been enough for a hangover, apparently.
And enough for her to lose all control of her ever-loving mind. She recalled tonguing his ear, and running her fingers under his shirt . . . and asking him to pose nude for her.
She also recalled him fending her off, which was pretty damn humiliating. And licking a dart. A dart! Who knew where that thing had been? Dear lord.
Definitely too much alcohol, too fast.
She pulled the blankets off of her head and fumbled for her phone to check the time. There was a text message on her screen.
Hope you’re not too hung over this morning. Had no idea you were such a lightweight.
She groaned again and rolled back into her bed, texting a response. You’re still talking to me?
Well, yeah. Why wouldn’t I?
Because I made a fool out of myself last night?
Nah, you were cute. You’re a v. cuddly drunk.
She didn’t even know what to say. Was he flirting via text or was he just informing her that she was a gropey drunk? She thought for a minute and then sent, Yeah, sorry about that.
It’s ok. So when did you want to go get your car?
Oh god. She didn’t want to see him right now. Not when she was still feeling weird about everything. That’s okay. I’ll walk there and get it.
I don’t mind. I’m off today.
No, really, it’s okay.
There was a long pause, and she thought maybe he wasn’t going to answer her. Then, finally, he replied. You blowing me off, Elise?
Oh no. Were his feelings hurt? For some reason, the thought of that bothered her. I just feel weird about things. I acted like an idiot last night.
Actually, I thought it was cute. I thought you were cute, though you probably regret telling me about your panties.
Yes, yes, I do. She put a hand to her cheek, hating the flush there. It was more than just the mention of the panties, though. He thought she was cute? She couldn’t stop smiling. You . . . sure you still want to hang out with me?
You bet. I won’t even make you drink Jäger this time.
A wild giggle erupted in her throat. So I guess you didn’t like me THAT grabby, she texted back.
Oh, I did. This time, I just don’t want to feel like an ass if I get grabby back. So what are you doing later?
Her heart pounded, just a bit. I don’t know, she sent back. Did you have something in mind?
Was thinking about picking up wings and a movie and staying in my cabin. You wanna come with?
You’re just inviting me because you secretly want pizza and can’t balance a pizza on the back of that bike.
Tell you what. I’ll get the beer and the movie and the cabin. You get a pizza. :)
She laughed. I knew it!
My secret is out. :)
There’s a flaw in this plan.
What’s that?
My car’s still over at the salon. You’d have to come get me, take me there, and then I’d have to go get a pizza.
The Virgin's Guide to Misbehaving Page 8
