“I’m Amanda,” I choked out while thrusting my hand out to shake his. I felt stupid. Oakley grabbed it with a grin and squeezed before pulling me closer. I tried snapping my palm back, but he wouldn’t let me. And up close, I breathed in the spicy scent of his aftershave and the booze on his lips. What the fuck was wrong with me?

“It’s nice to meet you, Amanda. Have I seen you before?”

I looked up at him through my thick lashes and shook my head free of the lust once more before pulling back. The pheromones this asshole was giving off were fucking with my ability to form coherent words and make good choices. “I’m a new student. A public relations major,” I said, hoping it would lead us into the part where I got to tell him I was his new publicist.

“Public relations? I think I need some help with my image,” he rasped, stepping closer. His hold on me felt hot. I was trapped in his orbit.

“Oh?” I asked. I couldn’t help myself. Was he genuinely self-aware about his issue? I wasn’t sure what was worse: a client who didn’t know any better or a client who didn’t care.

“There’s this rumor going around,” he began before releasing my hands and sliding his own to my hips. I knew right then that I should have stopped him and drawn a clear line of appropriateness. But I didn’t. Nope. It was like my vagina took control of my mouth and slammed that sucker shut. “Do you want to know what that rumor is...baby?” The pause before the nickname sobered me some. Oh my God, this bastard couldn’t even remember my name. From five fucking seconds ago. It was hard to tell if that was a reflection of his view on women or if it was the booze. He swayed a bit as he spoke. His eyes were heavy from drunkenness—fucking hell.

I nodded. “People are saying I have the biggest cock in Texas.” Was this guy serious? No. He couldn’t possibly be serious. “Is that something you could help me with?”

Oh my lanta, he was serious. He grabbed another shot from a nearby table and slammed it. Any more and he’d be passed out on the ground. “I suppose I could help. The first step would be to stop sharing nudes,” I replied dryly. His face lit up.

“So you’ve seen it?” he asked, as if proud. I guess he had a right to be. His dick looked lethal. It honestly was brag-worthy, but as his publicist, I probably shouldn’t think about how it hung mid-thigh and looked like it could put an eye out when hard.

“I don’t think there is a girl on campus that hasn’t,” I deadpanned.