The Player and the Bookworm (The Legends #2) - Erin McCarthy Page 0,3
was still standing beside me. He was definitely going to abandon me to get his drink since Cash hadn’t brought him one. More guests were arriving and any second we would be interrupted.
I needed to just get it out there, what I was after.
“Do you know what apparently I’m not good at?” I asked.
“Being quiet?” he said, totally deadpan.
“Good one,” I said, appreciating the volley. He was definitely the right choice for my number one spot. Appropriately intelligent and super grumpy. “You’re right. I’m not good at being quiet. I tend to say whatever I’m thinking. My mother said I even talked in my sleep when I was a kid.” Then I realized I was losing my train of thought. “But the other thing I’m not good at is sex.”
There was silence for a heartbeat, then he said, “What?”
For the first time, I seemed to have his full attention. He had turned toward me and was actually making direct eye contact. He had pale eyes the color of a frozen lake. They were mesmerizing.
“Yep, that’s what my ex-boyfriend told me. That I’m terrible at it. I suck, apparently.”
“Maybe he’s an asshole,” Olek said. “And definitely the one who is terrible in bed, because who says something like that?”
That made me feel better. For all his sternness, Olek agreed that telling someone they’re bad in bed is just rude.
“See, I don’t really know, because I’ve never been with anyone but him. We were together for three years and now, well, I think I need a teacher to show me what I’ve been doing wrong.”
Again, with the silence. His expression was unreadable. He barely reacted to anything I said. “You want a sex tutor?”
I nodded.
“I guess it couldn’t hurt. Maybe you’ll find out it wasn’t you. Though I’m not sure where you find a sex tutor.”
“See, that’s the thing,” I said.
I gave him a smile over my martini glass, then sipped it. His eyes narrowed in suspicion.
“I was hoping you would do it, Oleksander Volkova.”
Chapter Two
Oleksander
I eyed Sydney in shock, though I kept my expression neutral. A sex tutor. She wanted me to teach her how to fuck. Was that even a thing?
I knew I should have skipped this damn party. Fucking Dak.
“Is this a joke?” I asked. “Did those assholes put you up to this?” Though honestly if my friends had, they’d chosen the wrong woman to come and tempt me into breaking my celibacy. Sydney was cute, but she looked like someone’s kid sister trying to be sexy. All fluttering eyelashes and high heels she kept shifting around in.
“It’s not a joke. I’m very serious. Will you have sex with me?”
“I’m flattered, but no.” I wasn’t even sure I was flattered. Why the hell would she pick me? I was being borderline rude to her because I was determined to stay away from women, period, until I got my head screwed back on straight after my failed relationship. I was on nine months of no sex, and I was wound fucking tight, but in a strangely satisfying way.
It was like a good workout. You pushed your body as far as it could go and it made you feel alive, electric, in control. That’s what staying away from women had done for me. I was on the edge of explosive anger half the time, but at the same time, I felt electrically charged and primed to go out on the field and play the best football of my life.
No way I was tossing that edge over for a woman who stared up at me with doe-like brown eyes and whose mouth moved almost nonstop.
“That’s it? Just no?”
“Yep. Just no.” I didn’t owe her any explanation.
“I can pay you.”
That made me raise my eyebrows. “Sweetheart, I don’t need a couple grand. I’m a millionaire.”
Her mouth dropped. “A couple grand? I was thinking five hundred bucks!”
That amused me. “I thought you wanted experience. That costs. But in all seriousness, don’t offer to pay men to fuck you. It’s creepy and you don’t need to do that. Plenty of men would be thrilled to jump into bed with you.”
“Thank you. Why not you, then?” There it was again, the eyelashes fluttering over the rim of her martini glass.
She was tenacious, I’d give her that. “I’m not getting involved with you, or anyone, right now.”
“It’s not involved. It’s sex.”
“That’s involved enough. No.”
“Please?” She gave me a sweet smile.
“No.” I crossed my arms across my chest so she would know I was serious.