Wyatt didn’t use alcohol to manipulate a woman home with him. Didn’t need to.
“Have you ever been drunk before?” he asked.
Sutton shook her head. “Uh-uh. I lived at home during college, and I was a good girl.”
“Good girls can get drunk, you know.”
“Not according to Mother. And heaven help me if I went home with a guy from a bar.” Her eyes were wide, and her bottom lip was caught between her teeth.
The woman was entirely too concerned with what everyone else thought. What would happen if the natural sexiness lurking behind the puritanical philosophy her mother had hammered into her was unleashed on the male species?
“Lightning wouldn’t strike you down.” He ran his hands down her arms and leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “Good girls can have sex too. And enjoy it.”
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