He has a smooth, deep voice like melted chocolate. My mouth waters, as though my taste buds are lit with the flavor. And he smells really good this close—a mix of leather with a hint of musk and male. He towers over me, the well-fitted clothes wrapped around a lean, muscled body with broad shoulders and tight hips. Even though all he’s doing is standing there, he carries himself with the casual power and confidence of a man who knows how to use his body well.
The empty hallway feels too warm all of a sudden. “Yeah, I’m fine.” My breathing’s a little rough. Hopefully he thinks it’s from the encounter with creepy Isaac and not because my female instincts have just gone on super alert. “Thanks.”
“No problem. Are you here for Lynn’s show?” he asks, tilting his chin in the direction of the reception.
If he knows about my artist persona, how come he doesn’t recognize me? All the other guests have. But maybe he missed the little intro Catherine gave at the beginning. “Yeah.”
Suddenly my phone erupts with a loud male groan. It’s like a mobile porn machine. Embarrassment and fury heat my face. I hit the red button.
“Wow.” He lets out a small laugh. “Is that a subscription service? You don’t look like the type.”
“Really? What type would that be?”
“You know. A good girl who doesn’t think about sex and all that kind of stuff a lot.”
What is up with all these men thinking I’m a good girl? Isaac thought he should get to fondle me because I’m a good girl. Jeff thought he should cheat on me because I’m a good girl.
I’m sick of getting labeled a good girl and have people do what they want around me.
What about what I want? I’m a person, not a label!
“How do you know I’m so good?” I demand, taking a step closer. “We just met.”
He shrugs. “You just have the look. Kinda hard to explain, but you have it. It’s in your face.”
And I’ll never know exactly what that is because I can’t really see my own face. Face blindness goes for your own features, too.
“It’s like you played the Virgin Mary every time your school had a Christmas pageant,” he adds. “No offense.”
The Virgin Mary? Is he kidding?
Out of sheer crazy impulse and frustration, I grab his jacket and crush my mouth against his.
Chapter Four
Devlin
Women often try to steal kisses from me. They think it’ll get me to fall for them, like I’m a fairytale prince or something.
And I enjoy the attention. What red-blooded man wouldn’t? But this girl…
There’s something different about her. She doesn’t size me up like a piece of prime beef, even though the suit I picked out is fitted to show off my body. Her gorgeous purple eyes didn’t light up with recognition that I’m a famous dude she can fuck and then brag about.
No, her eyes are wide and observant. She assesses my body language and behavior, not my reputation.
Having my rep disregarded elicits the oddest sensation. But I like it. It’s…refreshing.
So I’m stunned into momentary immobility when her soft lips press against mine. Her mouth is closed tight, and her hands are fisted in my jacket lapels. It’s a clumsy kiss, more stubborn than seductive. But heat and something scarily intense jolt through me, straight to my heart, then to my dick, in that order.
And the fact that she comes off as a good girl—someone who should be selling cookies door to door—fades into the background. A powerful need surges forward in its place.
I put a hand on her back, pulling her closer. Then fit my lips against hers and lick her mouth, coaxing and tempting. She smells great.
She relaxes, her lips parting. I slip my tongue in, stroking hers. Jesus, she’s all sweetness and woman. Our mouths fuse, tongues tangling. She wraps her arms around my neck, her fingers digging in
to me.
My dick throbs with greed and impatience, like it’s been forced into celibacy for years.