The Virgin’s Guide to Misbehaving (Bluebonnet #4)(14)
Author: Jessica Clare

Her brother would care, though.

Rome sighed and scrubbed a hand through his short, sweaty hair. Best to just stay away from her until things were more secure with his job and Grant wasn’t looking for any excuse to can his ass.

Fine, then. He’d stay in tonight. Take a nice hot shower, relax, and maybe break out the Xbox in the main lodge. Shower first, though. He was sweaty as hell, and dirty, and he ached from repeated smacks from the paintball gun that seemed to have left a mark despite the protective jumpsuit he’d worn that day. Stripping his shirt over his head, he rubbed it on his chest and stepped inside his cabin.

And stopped.

Elise Markham was sitting there on his bed, her hands on her knees. She stood up at the sight of him, her eyes wide and anxious.

Oh shit. He glanced around but no one was nearby. No one had seen her in his cabin. He shut the door behind him. “Uh, hi?”

“Sorry if I startled you,” she murmured.

“Nah, it’s okay. I’m just not used to coming home and finding a girl on my bed.” He grinned to take the sting out of his words. “Not that it’s a bad thing to come home to, mind you.”

She ducked her head, letting that hair swing in front of her face, and he realized she was blushing. She wasn’t speaking, though, and he realized that shyness was getting away from her again. If he wanted her to talk, he was going to have to prompt her.

“So what brings you by?” And why are you sitting in my cabin, waiting for me?

Elise stroked a hand over her hair, dragging it against her cheek again in that nervous habit he’d noticed last night. “I’m not . . . interrupting, am I?”

He rubbed his sweaty chest, watching as her gaze flicked there, then skittered away again. “Was just going to take a shower, but it can wait a bit. What’s up?”

“I . . . uh.” She swallowed audibly.

Hell, he was making her nervous. He needed to calm her down. Rome walked past her, trying to make it seem like he had shy girls in his cabin all the time, and headed to the small bureau where he kept his even smaller stash of clothes and pulled out a new shirt, tugging it over his head. It felt like a crime to toss a clean shirt over his dirty body, but if she was nervous at the sight of him, he wanted to do what he could to help her stay.

Curiosity was going to kill him at this rate.

“So . . . you remember last night?” The words came out in a rush.

He turned to look at her and grinned. “It was fun. Beer and good company. Can’t complain.”

A hint of a smile curved her full mouth and he was entranced by that. “Me either.” She blinked rapidly a moment later, and her nervousness returned. “You know the game we played?”

“Yep, I remember.”

Her hand stroked her hair again, pushing it against her cheek in that odd motion. It was almost like she was trying to hide her face behind it, which was bizarre. “I didn’t answer some of the questions.”

“I didn’t, either. That’s why we got so loaded.” He grinned at her to take the sting out of his words.

“I didn’t answer any of the sexual questions,” she said in a small voice, and her gaze dropped again. “You might have noticed that.”

“I might have,” he said slowly. She looked like she wanted to crawl through the floorboards and disappear into the ground. “Why?”

“I didn’t answer them because . . .” She swallowed hard again. “I don’t have any experience. None.”

Rome stilled.

He’d suspected as much, but hearing her admit it, her body tense with anxiety, was an entirely different thing. Why was she confessing this, and confessing it now?

“I guess . . .” She paused, thinking. “So. I haven’t told anyone, but my photos for the shoot were rejected. Everyone says the same thing every time. Not enough life experience.”

She looked so frustrated and unhappy that he felt a twinge of pity. “That seems unfair.”

“They’re right.” Her eyes focused on him, and for a moment, gone was the shyness. “They’re all right. I’m twenty-four years old and I’ve been sheltered and protected all my life. I’ve been missing out on everything. I was homeschooled and then I went to a girls’ school. I attended a small, private women’s college and graduated as fast as I could. I’ve never had a boyfriend. I’ve never had sex. I’ve never spent the night with a man. I’m missing out on everything, and I’m so sick and tired of it. And I want to change. I want to experience things.” Elise’s voice took on a soft, wistful note. “I want to go to parties and stay out all night. I want to do crazy things. I want to have sex under the stars. I want to do everything. I want to go wild and experience life.”

During her impassioned speech, Rome went from surprised to angry. At first, he’d been flattered that soft, sweet Elise was coming on to him, but then she started talking about “going wild” and “doing crazy things” and he realized she was approaching him because he was tatted and pierced and rode a bike. It wasn’t him she was interested in, he realized, but what he represented. And he’d been hit on like this before. Some sheltered woman figured she’d find herself a biker to slum with, and he’d leap at the chance to nail her.

And Rome was disappointed. He’d thought Elise would be different than that. Didn’t seem like that was the case. He crossed his arms over his chest. “So why are you telling me this?”

That flash of surprise crossed her pretty face and she began to fuss with her hair again, dragging it over her cheek. “I . . . uh, thought it was obvious.”

“That you want to go slumming?” His voice was cold.

“What?” She looked genuinely surprised.

“That’s what this is about, right? You want to live on the wild side a little, so you picked me to hit on because I look just dangerous enough to appease your sensibilities?” He let his tone show just how disgusted he was with the thought.

“No,” she said softly. “I picked you b-b-because you kissed me.” She looked utterly crushed, blinking rapidly as if fighting back tears. She grabbed the cookie plate and moved toward the door.

Ah, hell. Rome stopped her, putting an arm against the doorjamb and preventing her from skittering away. “You telling me you’ve never been kissed?”

“I have,” she mumbled, but she wouldn’t look at him.

“You have,” he repeated. He wasn’t sure he believed that.