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He smirks. “You know the answer to that.”
He has no idea how badly I want to be a bad girl. There is no good girl in me whatsoever.
“Why do you think good girls are attracted to you?” So he thinks I am, too?
He shrugs. “Could be the ink.”
I glance down at his body, not that I can see much of his ink with all those clothes on.
“How many do you have?” Why the fuck am I asking that?
“A lot.”
“You don’t keep count?”
“At least twenty…”
“Oh.”
“What about you?” His eyes dip to me as I stare straight ahead, trying to not picture him with just his tattoos and nothing else…
“I only have one.”
“You do not.”
“Do too.”
“Where?”
I swallow hard. “Somewhere you’ll never see.”
He snorts. “That sounds more like a challenge.”
I can’t help feel that the air in here is feeling pretty thick. I mean, is Rock as attracted to me as I am to him? If so, then why does he keep teasing me?
“So when you said good girls are attracted to you, you meant me?”
“Trust me. There is nothing attractive about me if you really knew me.”
My heart races about what a bad boy he must be in his real life.
Yet, he has kinda been sweet to me this whole time.
I can’t help but wonder what kind of lover he’d make.
Would he be hard as a rock, just like his name. Taking me hard and fast. Or a slow, attentive lover who pleases me any which way he chooses? I press my legs together and hope he doesn’t notice. I’m going to have to do something about letting off some steam tonight when I’m alone.
“I’m sure you have some redeeming qualities.”
He laughs. “Redeeming? They teach you that at Yale?”
“Yes, they did, actually.”
“Let me ask you somethin’?” He doesn’t even wait for me to agree. “What kind of job does one expect to get with a degree in English?”
I open my mouth, then close it again. “I… My father wanted me to work for him in the family business,” I say, though that still hasn’t eventuated.
“So you work for him?” I love how he asks when he already knows the answer.
