“Somehow I doubt that you wait around for much.”
“Oh yeah?” She reached for his beer, which he relinquished with a smirk, his eyes fixated on her mouth as she took a long sip of the slightly too-warm brew. When it was her turn to lick the foam from her lips, she milked it for all it was worth, reveling in the role of the daring seductress in the short red dress. “Why’s that?”
“Because you strike me as the kind of woman who doesn’t let anything stand in her way.” He tipped his chin to the beer she’d commandeered. “You take what you want.”
Oh, and she intended to.
“So?” he asked, taking the cup back from her. Her belly fluttered as he lifted it to his mouth, sipping from the exact same spot that she had. “Do I pass?”
The smile that curved her lips was genuine. He’d run her gauntlet with style and wit. It was exceedingly rare to encounter such advanced verbal chess moves at a frat party, let alone from someone with muscles like his.
“That was a very good answer. I haven’t heard that one before.” She lowered her voice just enough that he had to lean in to hear her. “Most guys just ask me what I want to drink.”
“Maybe that’s because you’ve been wasting your time with slick college douchebags who regurgitate what their textbooks tell them to think.” He cast a cursory glance over the drunken crowd. She’d forgotten they weren’t the only two people in the world. “Not a truly original thought among them.”
Vivienne reminded herself that it was ludicrous to fall a little bit in love with someone whose name you didn’t know. Then she gave him a pretty moue. “That’s not a very nice way to talk about my friends.”
He stepped closer. “Tell me they don’t bore you.”
“If I confess they do, will you whisk me away to somewhere that will delight and amaze?”
He reached up and set the half-empty beer on the trophy shelf a couple feet above her right shoulder. “I guess that depends.”
“On what?”
“On how much you value the artistic merit of tacos.”
It might have been the most sublime pickup line she’d ever heard.
“A fellow taco-lover, huh? With so much in common, you’d think we would have crossed paths before now. How come I’ve never seen you around?”
“Because I’m not a student here.”
Interesting. This big, beautiful man was just full of surprises.
“Then what are you doing crashing frat parties and luring co-eds off campus with the promise of delicious Mexican cuisine?”
“Jesse Hastings invited me.”
Vivienne grinned. Jesse Hastings was your typical narcissistic son of a senator, nice enough if you got past his penchant for schmoozing and name-dropping. The thought of Jesse hanging out with this guy was like imagining a chihuahua hanging out with a Doberman.
“And how do you know Jesse?”
“I landscaped his family’s estate.”
Well, that certainly explained the muscles.
“And he’s my business partner.”
Vivienne’s eyebrows shot up at the announcement. She hadn’t seen that one coming.
“I didn’t know Jesse knew how to handle a lawn mower.”
“He doesn’t. But I know how to bypass a lot of high-tech systems to siphon internet access from a senator’s mansion, and Jesse assures me that he has the kind of contacts who can fund talents like mine, if I choose to use them for good.”
Vivienne would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little turned on by his white-collar, bad-boy tendencies. It was just the right amount of disreputable.
“And do your talents extend beyond hacking into senators’ mansions?”
His slow grin made her knees weak. “I consider myself a man of many talents.”
And Vivienne was suddenly desperate to experience all of them.
“I’ll let you take me for tacos on one condition. You have to promise that you’ll never use your computer skills to find out anything about me.”
“Well, if I’m not allowed to hack your phone, how am I going to impress you with insider knowledge of all your favorite things?”
“Guess you’ll have to find out what I like the old-fashioned way.”
His gaze darkened in a way that unleashed a rush of heat in her abdomen.
God, flirting was fun. She sent him her best look of prim admonishment. “I meant with small talk.”
He leaned close again, and the world faded away. “No, you didn’t.”
Perfect. He was absolutely perfect.
She extended her hand and sealed her fate. “I’m Vivienne.”
“Wes.”
If she hadn’t known she was a goner already, she would have the second their palms met, and first contact jolted through her like she’d picked up a downed power line. A mere two hours of small talk later, replete with tacos and tipsy on cheap tequila and lust, they’d consummated their inability to keep their hands off each other in the bathroom at Señor Taco’s, before they’d kissed and groped their way back to her dorm room and had their way with each other until the sun rose.
A rather quixotic beginning for where they’d ended up, mired in the technicalities and intricacies of the law.
Vivienne tipped her chin up, examining the whisker burn that had marked up the underside of her jaw.
I didn’t hurt you, did I?
She ran her finger along the patch of reddened skin.
They’d hurt each other.
But things didn’t have to play out the same way they had. They were older now. Presumably wiser. And this was strictly business.
She’d do well to remember it.
With a reinforcing breath, Vivienne threw the makeup wipe into the trash bin and straightened the seams of her dress.
It was probably best they’d gotten this out of their systems, she decided, squaring her shoulders as she reached for the tube of lipstick.
She wouldn’t let it happen again.
CHAPTER FOUR
YOU KISS DIFFERENT NOW.
Jesus Christ.
Wes barely held back an eye roll at his idiocy.
Hell, she’d all but run from him the second she got inside, leaving him to wander around her place as though he gave a shit about home decor.
As though he didn’t still have lust coiling in his belly. As though his fingers
