Mr. Virile and the Girl Next Door by Gwen Hayes Read Free Book Online

courage. The half-naked part might be a problem if she kept feeling needy and he kept being chivalrous. Especially if she let her mind wander to the kisses in the rain.
    She’d never experienced anything like those kisses, hadn’t really thought it was possible to feel so much passion. Well, she’d always hoped she could feel that carried away, but so far it hadn’t happened for her. Did that make her a fraud? Telling people that sex was so much better when it involved love when the best, hottest, most provoking kiss she’d ever had was with a man she barely knew?
    But the rain had practically sizzled on her skin, and had been the only thing that kept her from combusting from the heat of his mouth. If the tornado siren hadn’t gone off, she was pretty sure she would have had sex with him on the deck. And that it would have been amazing.
    Dane flashed a light towards her and she felt her heart return to normal. At least until she looked at him again. He really knew how to fill out a pair of jeans. He’d certainly worked hard to overcome the gangly teen.
    Boss sat on her feet and together they watched Dane work. By flashlight, he fashioned them a nest on the floor with sleeping bags. She encouraged him to get out of his wet jeans and they snuggled together under a blanket in their underwear. Needing a distraction, she asked him about the yearbook again.
    Dane tensed up beside her. She pushed away erotic thoughts of what it would be like to be under him in the still moment of a climax, when every part of him would tense and harden before he lost control.
    Shaking herself from the fantasy, she prodded him again. “Are you going to your ten year reunion this year?”
    “No.”
    That surprised her. “Why not? I’d think you’d want them to know how well you are doing.”
    “I have no desire for anyone to link who I am now to who I was then.”
    “Why did you change your name?”
    “I don’t want to talk about him .”
    “You say that like he is a different person.”
    “He is!”
    “Dane,” she treaded carefully. “I can see that you worked very hard to get to where you are as Mr. Virile, and that you were highly motivated by the way you felt as a teenager, but Dante is not a different person. He’s you. You’re him.”
    Dane scoffed. “Dante Martino is dead to me. I am not him. He was a wimp with no self-respect. He got stuffed into lockers and pushed into the girls’ bathroom. He ate junk food and never went outdoors if he didn’t need to. He was content to play video games and watch sci-fi and never once talked to a girl. I am not him. He is not me.”
    “You need to make peace with him or you’re always going to be hiding.”
    He didn’t reply. They said nothing for a few minutes more, listening to the radio for the all clear. His body was furnace hot next to her. Everywhere their flesh touched felt alive, vibrant.
    He reached for her hand under the blanket. “Tell me why you’re so afraid of the storm.”
    His hand was warm and firm, and she felt protected and safe, so she laid out for him that which scared her most, as was fair since he’d done the same. He might not know he’d done so, but he had shared the terror that drove him to be the pinnacle of the esteemed man—the fear of the nerdy boy who lived inside. Didn’t he know that everyone felt the same? She’d often wondered when she would feel grown-up. Nobody ever really got over high school. Not really.
    Dane soothed her while she spoke of a tornado that decimated parts of her hometown and left others untouched. The storm that took her grandfather from her. It felt good to talk about it, though she was surprised at how much. Dane listened carefully, squeezing her hand when the words came out rough.
    The radio finally declared it safe to return upstairs, but neither of them moved.
    Her heart inched up her throat when Dane caressed the skin of her wrist. Gently, so gently, he brought it to his mouth and licked the pulse point there,