Flat-Out Sexy Read Free Page B

… no. What she had realized during the course of the night was that Geoffrey wasn’t a man she felt one ounce of sexual attraction to. And now she was doubting that she even liked him at all, period, given he seemed to think she was a gold-digging high roller.
    “No. I realized that our relationship isn’t going to work,” she said firmly, no longer feeling an ounce of guilt that she was having this conversation with him by the empty coat check at the cocktail party. He was deliberately being obtuse.
    “I don’t think it is either,” he said with disdain. “You’re not the person I thought you were. I think it would be better if you stayed somewhere else tonight.”
    You bet she was staying in a different hotel room than him, the pompous ass. “If that’s what you prefer.”
    “Unless you want one last night together,” he said, looking suddenly hopeful.
    Tamara felt her mouth drop open. He had to be joking. He thought she was a greedy name-dropper, yet he was willing to overlook that for a little nookie?
    Like there was anything even remotely tempting about that for her, even if she ignored the fact that it was totally insulting.
    Calculating that she’d left nothing in his hotel room except for an overnight bag with toiletries and a pair of jeans and a cotton shirt to wear to the race, she threw her shoulders back and glared at him. She could sacrifice her facial cleanser and a T-shirt to be done with him even sooner.
    “I’d rather get my own room and spend the night alone,” she said. “At least that way I might have a crack at having an orgasm. See you at the next department meeting, Geoffrey.” She turned and stomped off, ignoring his spluttering protest.
    She’d find Suzanne and beg her for a ride home, since Geoffrey had driven Tamara the forty-five minutes from her house to Charlotte. Or maybe she’d just get a room in the hotel the cocktail party was in and deal with a ride to the track in the morning, which sounded easier than going home. And she was definitely in no shape to drive as a result of the wine, though she supposed she could grab a cab to take her all the way home even if it would be pricey.
    Tamara stopped midstride. Where the hell was her purse? She could have sworn she’d been carrying it all night, but now she had no idea what she’d done with it, and she was starting to think she should have eased up on the wine. Not having any cash or credit cards might be a serious problem.
    “You alright, Tammy?”
    She turned and saw Ryder Jefferson, Suzanne’s ex-husband and one of Pete’s best friends, standing next to her, looking handsome and full of testosterone. Tamara could see Suzanne’s issues after spending nearly a decade with manly-man Ryder. “Hey, Ryder. I just broke up with that idiot I brought here and now I don’t have a hotel room to stay in and I can’t find my purse.”
    Still too annoyed to be concerned yet, she glanced around for her purse. It was hot pink, to offset her black dress and give her outfit a more summery look since it was May. How hard could it be to find a pink purse?
    “I’m sorry,” he said. Then Ryder gave her a grin. “Okay, not that you ditched the professor. He’s dead boring, Tammy, and he doesn’t know a damn thing about racing, or any sports for that matter. When he brought up his collection of antique thimbles, I thought about asking him to turn in his man card, but didn’t out of respect for you.”
    A pang of embarrassment further flushed her cheeks. She probably looked downright feverish at this point, and she just wanted to get the hell out of there. Her day was officially and monumentally in the toilet. “Thanks, but you’re free to say whatever you want from here on out since he just called me a gold digger.”
    Ryder raised an eyebrow. “What? You? That’s ridiculous. You can squeeze a dime like nobody’s business.”
    That was probably meant to be a compliment so she would just take it as such. “Anyway, I need to