A Good Little Girl Like You (A Sample)

gulp and reached out to touch a lock of her hair. "I've got to

ask you something. . . Is that your natural hair color?"

Nosy, isn't he? Most men were much more discrete

when attempting a pickup. This guy seemed to spit out

whatever was on his mind. Rebecca gave him a half smile

and involuntarily reached up to touch her hair. "Yes, it is."

O.E. sucked in his breath. "It's beautiful." He spoke in a

heated whisper. "Dance with me."

It wasn't a question, so Rebecca decided that there was

no choice to make and went with him to the dance floor. He

was a pretty wild dancer, and she enjoyed watching him fly

around. The band was covering a recent K-pop song that

had everyone in the room shouting along with it. She let it

all wash over her-the tune, the volume, and even O.E. with

his stunning build and unmistakable desire.

The song ended, and he took her hand to lead her from

the dance floor. Half way down the hall, O.E. stopped and

leaned one hand against the wall, blocking Rebecca and

bringing his face inches from hers. She stared into his

piercing gray eyes and nearly melted. Was this a kiss

coming? Things were moving fast. Too fast. She steeled

herself and propped her hands on her hips-she was not

going to make out with O.E. here in the hallway.

His eyes bored into hers. "Have dinner with me." Dinner

was a nice progression-much less aggressive than a make out

session in front of everyone. Still, his demand left her

few options.

This train is barreling down the track. Part of her was

delighted at his certainty and his insistence. But another

part was appalled at his unsuitability. The poor surfer

probably dined at burger joints. And he was so positive

about everything, never asking, just demanding. Dance with

me, have dinner with me, all women love me. O.E. might be

nice to look at, but his attitude needed some adjusting. "I

don't know. . ." She gave him a level look. "Why should I

have dinner with you?"

He didn't even have to stop and think. "Because I'm a

great kisser."

Where have I heard this before? She was reminded of

the professor she had gone out with during her

undergraduate days. Well, perhaps "gone out" wasn't quite

right, since they never went out anywhere. They just had

sex, every time she saw him. Mostly in his office, sometimes

in a motel. He also boasted about his ability to kiss.

And the professor was a good kisser. Certainly better

than the language nerds she'd gone out with before him.