Page 4 of After Tonight

“Uh, yeah. Okay.”

Uh, yeah. Okay. Well, she could believe the part about him not being much of a talker. He did, indeed, fit the stereotype of the guy who was pretty much about sports, hunting, and fishing. Which were also technically sports, so…sports. He was all about sports. Not technological advances, not math and science, not world-wide communications and cooperation. He was into throwing balls and killing things.

And orgasms. She couldn’t forget the orgasms.

Even though she seriously wanted to.

“Riley?” Derek waved a hand in front of her face.

She blinked and shook her head. Dammit. Why did he have to be the Sex God?

“In back?” she asked.

Now he looked more interested and maybe even a touch concerned. “Okay.”

He straightened from the bar, and she was hit by how not-scrawny he was now. No way could she kick his ass for anything. He was six-two or three, lean, muscled—yeah, yeah, his arms were impressive—and…damn, his shoulders really were wide.

“You alright?” Kyle asked.

He was slightly behind her, because Riley had been solely focused on Derek and had shoved in right between them. She looked over her shoulder. “Yeah. Of course. Just need to ask Derek something.”

Are you aware of the Sex God title? How the hell did that happen? What’s wrong with you? Do you really want to only be known for that? And are you using condoms? Because that’s a really good way to get a disease that could make your miraculous cock dry right up and fall off.

And she’d just thought of Derek’s cock as miraculous.

No. She could not handle this. This was not okay.

Derek headed for the back room through the swinging door behind the bar. Riley took two seconds to breathe deeply and rein in her stupid, disturbing thoughts—like the one where a plastic soldier was on his knees with his face between Barbie’s legs—and started after him.

Okay, they were not going to talk about sex. No way. All of this was none of her business. Derek could do whatever he wanted with whoever he wanted. If his dick caught the plague and fell off, that was his own fault.

But he had multiple kinds of coffee and body wash for his “overnight guests”? That was kind of…nice. Or something. Sure, he was booting them out as soon as the sun rose, but he was being considerate about it. Or as considerate as a guy handing a woman a disposable coffee cup that said it’s-not-you-it’s-me-don’t-call-me-and-I-won’t-call-you could be.

And hey, Sephora hadn’t seemed upset. He’d helped her move on. He’d practically done charity work, to hear her tell it.

“What’s up?” he asked with a frown the second Riley came through the swinging door into the kitchen area.

“Isn’t that a health code violation or something?” she asked, gesturing to his muddy jeans and boots.

“You’re worried about the cleanliness of my kitchen?” he asked.

Of course she wasn’t worried about his kitchen. She wasn’t really worried about anything. Except maybe…him. Or his reputation. Or his STD status. All of which was completely ridiculous.

“Well, I eat food out of this kitchen. I’d like to know it doesn’t have earthworms in it.”

Derek gave her a little half smile. “You’ve eaten worse.”

She sighed. Well, she wasn’t sure it was worse than earthworms. He’d put smashed-up ants in her peanut butter once. Then she narrowed her eyes. She knew about the ants. It was very possible that he’d done something worse that she didn’t know about.

“I don’t want to know,” she said.

“You’re right,” he told her with a nod.

Well, he might have a magic cock, but he was still kind of a dick.

* * *

“Why are you all muddy?” Riley asked, looking him up and down with her very familiar you’re-such-a-dumbass look.

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