“What’s wrong?” she asks, her voice high-pitched and shaky as she turns to face me. I swear she only has one butt cheek actually on the couch at this point. She could be in the starting blocks at the Olympics, ready to sprint away at any minute.

“So, you’ve never had a boyfriend?” I ask her, already knowing the answer.

“I told you I haven’t.” She shies away, nervous as hell, but also a little sassy.

“And you’ve never slept with anyone?” I want to hear her say it.

“No. I told you I haven’t.” Her apprehensiveness borders on irritation. God help me, it’s an alluring combination. She somehow manages to be innocent yet scrappy.

“But you’ve fooled around, right?”

“I guess that depends on what you mean by fooling around.”

She’s being evasive, but I’m not going to let her. I play games for a living, sweetheart.

“Ever given a guy head?” If she’s going to be obtuse, I’m going to be blunt.

“No.”

“Been eaten out?”

“No,” she huffs.

“Fingered or hand job?”

“No.”

She tries to slyly wipe her hands on her pants, but I catch it. I’ve got her sweating already. There’s tension racking her shoulders as they hunch forward. Her fidgeting is worse, lacing and unlacing her fingers in her lap. She’s keeping her face away from me to hide how red her cheeks have turned. She’s refusing to meet my eyes.

“How about some under-the-shirt groping? Light nipple play?” I mock a little twist of my own nipples with a grin.

I get zero reaction.

“Dry humping?” I’m almost running out of things to ask. I’m pretty sure at this point no guy has ever so much as touched her, but I can’t help myself from continuing to push her.

“No and no.” Each time she says it, she’s a little bit more defiant, and damn if it doesn’t make my shorts tighter.

“Fuck. You’ve at least made out with a guy?”

She’s quiet for a long moment, eyes darting around the room.

“Don’t start lying now.”

When her eyes find mine, they are filled with a raw vulnerability that unsettles me.

“No. I haven’t kissed anyone. Before tonight.”

Her final confession knocks me for a loop. No wonder she stood there frozen after I kissed her. That was her first kiss. I was her first kiss.

“How’s that even possible?” I can’t control my mouth. “What are you, twenty-one? Did you grow up in a cave or something? Are you some kind of religious freak?”

She jumps up off the couch and storms over to the front door, stomping her tiny feet and marching across the room. Timid Elizabeth is a distant memory. She’s all fury and indignation now.

“I’m paying you to help me. Not to mock me. I’ve been honest about everything and if you can’t handle it without being an ass, then this isn’t going to work.” She yanks the door open to punctuate her threat. One hand is curled in a tight fist at her side while the other grips the doorknob tight enough to turn her knuckles white. “You should go.”