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.