“I am wholesome. Does enjoying sex make a person less wholesome?”
She shivers, and then quickly rolls her eyes like she doesn’t believe me. “It doesn’t matter what you are or are not. You need to look wholesome, which means keep it in your pants. Keep your hands to yourself. Win the whole fucking thing so we can both put this behind us.”
I stare at her. Is this fresh-out-of-law-school knockout seriously telling me what I can and cannot do with my dick? How must she see me?
“And for crying out loud, Rhett.” She stands and swipes her phone off the table before pointing down at me. “Realize that I’m on your side. I don’t want this to be miserable. I don’t want to embarrass you. If you let me, we can be a team rather than fighting the entire time. Use your head.”
I’m accustomed to getting dressed down. Getting in trouble isn’t new, and I’m not about to roll over and take this from her. Which is why I reply with, “Which one?”
And with that, she storms out. Ass barely concealed by her silky shorts. Leaving me wondering if those are the new “team” uniform.
Because if so, I just might be in.