He raises a brow really.
"Maybe."
"Bullocks."
"I said maybe. Not yes."
He chuckles as he raises his glass. "To you being full of shit."
"No… I… Whatever, cheers." I tap carefully—these drinks are full and I don't want to waste a drop. The purple hue is way too pretty.
I watch as Cam wraps his lips around his glass. Sips the violet liquid. Swallows.
He's so graceful and sleek and sexy.
And I want to touch him so fucking badly.
And I really, really can't.
I focus on my drink. It tastes like spring. A little sweet, a little tart, a lot herbaceous. It's not my favorite, but it's so pretty I want to savor every drop.
"Is that it?" he asks. "She makes you feel inferior."
"I didn't say that."
"But she does."
My cheeks flame. "No, it's just… she's nice and smart. And she tries to be friendly with me, even though we don't really have much in common. But she and Indigo have so much to talk about. They run off on subjects I don't understand even when I'm right there."
He smiles. "You're jealous."
"No." Maybe.
"You are." He laughs. "That's sweet."
"I don't get jealous."
"You almost knocked out the barista because she flirted with me."
"Because it was rude. Not because I was jealous. I wouldn't get jealous over you."
He shakes his head bullshit.
"You're hot, sure, but hot guys are a dime a dozen."
He mimes a knife plunging into his stomach. "It's sweet, Sienna, really. Jealous of your sister's friend."
I swallow another sip. Somehow, it's better than the first. Sweeter. More herbal. More promising of a release of inhibitions. "Don't say anything."
"On my honor."
"I thought we agreed you don't have any."
"The right hand then."
My cheeks flush. "You can't lose it twice."
"You want the left? It gets plenty of action."
"With… yourself?"
"With women."
"Oh." Beautiful mental images. Cam's hands on my body. One on my thigh, the other on my ass. Or my chest. Or stomach. Or cheeks.
Anywhere, really.
As long as he's touching me.
"I can't believe he paid for her virginity," I say.
"She was going to sell it to someone else."
Damn. I can't see Eve coming up with the idea. But I guess she was broke. And they can't keep their hands off each other.
Did she want him that much immediately? Or did it come later?
"So he had to stop that?" I ask.
He nods.
"But why?"
"I don't know. But I'm sure he had a good reason. He's never been interested in virgins before."
"Had he paid?"
"Never."
Huh. "He was just that crazy about her?"
He nods.
"What about you?"
"I've never paid for it."
"Do you…" I swallow a sip. "What do you think I could get?"
His pupils dilate. "You're a virgin?"
"Hypothetically."
"Are you?"
"Why do you care?"
"I know men who would pay."
"Ian?"
He chuckles. "Friends from university."
"And you'd set that up?"
"No." He gives me a slow once-over. "You wouldn't do it."
"How do you know?"
"Look me in the eyes," he says. "And tell me you would."
He's right. I wouldn't do it. But not because I think it's wrong. It's more—"I don't need the money."
"It could be a lot. A hundred thousand dollars. A million."
"Is that what Ian paid?"
"Between those two."
"For one night?" I ask.
"A month," he says.
"A lot can happen in a month."
"If it was one night?"
"Maybe. If it was someone I wanted anyway. Someone like you."
He raises a brow. "British?"
"No, uh… a gentleman."
"I'm not a gentleman." His eyes flit to my chest, waist, hips. Then back to my eyes. "I'm not nice. Or soft. Or sweet."
I swallow hard.
"I'm certainly not gentle."
"So you're like Ty—"
"No. I'm like me." For a second, he looks at me like he's considering exactly how he'd fuck me.
Then he turns to the bar and he's picture-perfect cool.
And I'm still on fire.
Chapter Fourteen
Sienna
At dinner, I focus on my sister, the wedding, hints about the party next weekend. Anything besides Cam's sexual proclivities.
He didn't say anything really. Only that he's not a gentleman. And he's said that before. As a joke. Many times.
I make sure a lady comes first, but I'm no gentleman.
It's just teasing.
Like this. He's teasing.
He thinks he can work me into a frenzy.
Okay, he can.
But I'm not going to take that lying down.
I warned him. If he flirts, I flirt back. And if I flirt back…
I can't kiss him or touch him or fuck him.
But I can make him wish he could fuck me.
After dinner, we walk Cam to his hotel room, wish him good night.
Indigo tells Ty she'll meet him at home. Then she kisses him goodbye—kisses him like she's going to fuck him right here—and turns her attention to me.
"Ice cream?" she asks.
"Is anything open this late?"
"I know a place in Little Italy." Her expression is soft. Inviting. "On me."
Sugar and sisterly company. How can I turn that down? "Sure."
She hails the taxi across the street, takes my hand to lead me across the street. Opens the door for me.
"Wow, what a gentleman."
"Gentlewoman." She waits for me to enter. Then she slides in, smooths her incredibly fabulous dress (a silk slip in matte white), crosses her legs.