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    propriety or appearances rule her life in some ways up to now.
    But tonight, right now, she was completely ready for this, completely ready for him, her hot stranger. And she heard herself whispering up into his ear as his kisses spanned her neck, as his cock pressed into the juncture of her thighs. "I'm so glad you like bad girls."
    Because that was what she was, at least tonight, for him. She'd never felt hungrier,
    nastier, or more ready for down-and-dirty sex.
    So it surprised the hell out of her when Brandon pulled back slightly to cast a sexy yet scolding grin. "You're not a bad girl, honey—you're a sweetheart."
    Damn it, she was so a bad girl. How, after the way she'd flirted and come to the beach with the clear intention of having sex, could he think she was sweet? She drew back a
    little more and looked down at herself. "Since when do sweet girls dress like this?" The inner slopes of her breasts were displayed and the dress hugged her every curve. "Since when do they meet a guy and leave a bar with him fifteen minutes later?"
    But Brandon just chuckled, his hands still resting on her hips. "It's not about what you're wearing. It's in your eyes, your voice, the way you talk." He gave his head a challenging tilt. "If you want to convince me you're a bad girl, you'll have prove it."
    Wendy drew in her breath, prepared to do just that. She hadn't come this far, taken this many daring personal risks, to let her dream lover tell her she was sweet. "What if I said,
    'Fuck me—now'?" She tried her damnedest to put a bite in the words.
    His eyes glazed with lust as he answered, low and deep. "I'd say that your wish is my command—but that even sweet girls like to fuck."
    So he was going to be insufferable about the sweet issue. But her pussy was too engorged with lust to keep worrying about that part. So she moved on to what was more important
    at the moment and, again, tried to sound as naughty and demanding as possible as she
    said, "Then fuck me. Now."

    I didn't know until that moment that it was about more than just fucking a hot guy. I
    didn't know that there was so much inside me dying to come out. But Brandon was the
    perfect guy to let it all come out with, because he was everything I'd ever wanted in a
    fantasy lover. And I knew that before the night was through, I would prove it. If not to him, then at least to myself.
    I am a bad girl.
    I am a very bad girl

    Chapter 3
    Brandon led her up through the soft white sand to the beach cabanas directly in front of the building where he occupied the twenty-second-floor penthouse condo. Convenient
    because he happened to know these particular cabanas came with large wooden lounge
    chairs covered with thick, upholstered mats. He chose the cabana on the end—a half-tent-
    like structure with two chairs jutting from inside—because it was the easiest to reach, and with his little sandbar trip, he'd managed to turn himself impatient. He loved this beach like he loved little else, and he simply enjoyed "playing" here, along with the opportunity to share it with someone new, but he'd been a damn fool to waste time in the water—time
    he could have spent in her.
    It had hit him when he'd looked up to see those shapely, slender thighs, her sexy dress
    flirting with the very tops of her legs. She was beautiful and willing, so what the hell was he waiting for?
    Turning to face her, he kissed her again, tasted those sweet, moist lips, let his tongue ease inside. Neither of them wanted to go slow here—he knew that—so he curled his hands
    over her sweet round ass and pressed his hard cock directly to her slit. He could feel it, even through her clothes, that slight indentation he knew led to heaven.
    When he began to grind against her, she moaned into his mouth and made his chest
    contract. Still kissing her, warm, their tongues mating, he let his palms glide up her back, the top bared by her sexy dress—then drew one hand around to her breast. They both
    moaned as he