Page 5 of Obligation
“Wait.” Her lips twitched with a smile. “You’re telling me you’ve turned down some of the other pledges?” She’d seen her pledge class, and every single one of those girls were beautiful in different ways. What kind of guy would say no to any of them?
“Mm-hmm.” He ran his tongue over his bottom lip, and her gaze was drawn to his mouth. “What can I say? I’m not easy.”
She laughed. “No? Then why did you agree to pimp yourself out tonight?”
He tilted his head, his eyes dancing with delight. “Did you just call me a prostitute?”
“If the shoe fits…”
“Wow.” He laughed. “Well, I’m not easy, nor am I prostitute.”
“So you just like cheap thrills?”
He leaned closer, and while she knew she should move back, to keep as much distance between them as possible, she didn’t. She remained in place, riveted by his unique eye color and, truth be told, she was dying to know what he’d say next.
“There’s nothing cheap about me, sweetheart.”
For the first time since they started talking, she detected the hint of a southern accent. And then, out of nowhere, she began to picture him in tight jeans, held on his hips with a belt, shirtless, black cowboy hat propped on his head… She snapped herself out of the daydream and refocused on him.
He was right that he wasn’t cheap. In fact, she’d guess his designer clothes probably cost more than hers. A gold rope chain hung around his neck, and a diamond encrusted, white gold ring encircled his right ring finger. A Cartier watch adorned his wrist, and the only reason she knew that was because her father owned a Cartier watch, too.
She cleared her throat. “So, what does a girl have to do to get you to kiss her?” Her eyes widened with shock at her boldness.
He must’ve been taken aback, too, because he straightened as if she’d just slapped him. Crap. She hadn’t meant to be so blunt. He was the first—and only—guy she’d seen with the X. If she couldn’t get him to let her kiss him, she’d flunk the task.
“For starters, you have to talk to me,” he said, regaining his cool confidence.
“Isn’t that what I’ve been doing?” she asked, head tilted.
“No.” He laughed. “I mean, yeah, we’ve been talking, but I know nothing about you.” He eased back so he was once again leaning against the porch railing. “I’m not the kind of guy who just kisses strange women.”
“Right.” She nodded, totally not believing a word he said, but she’d play along. What else did she have to do? “Okay. What’s your name?”
“Bradley Moore.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Bradley. I’m Carissa Jordan.” She stuck out her hand.
Instead of shaking like she expected, he took her hand in his and caressed her knuckles with his thumb. Goose bumps spread up her arms, and she thanked God she had a jacket on so he couldn’t see the effect he had on her.
“Carissa,” he said as if trying out her name. “I like it.”
“Well, that’s a relief. I really didn’t want to have to go change my name.”
He let out a surprised laugh, and warmth spread through her. She was simultaneously chilled and hot, and she swore if her heart beat any harder or faster she’d pass out right there at his feet.
“Do you go to school here?” she asked, desperate to take her attention away from the fact that he was still caressing the back of her hand.
“Yes. I’m a sophomore. Just transferred from Texas A and M.”
Her jaw dropped. “That’s a great school. Why did you leave?”
“I wanted something a little smaller and more personalized. And I’ve always wanted to see California.” He tugged gently on her hand, and she took a small step closer.
“Are you from Texas?”
“Yes, ma’am.” His southern drawl was more pronounced.
She stifled a groan. “I’m not old enough to be a ma’am.”
