The moment Zane had the address, he punched it into his cell phone’s GPS and charged out the door.

Chapter Ten

The fraternity house was hopping. Music blared from oversized speakers and filled the entire three story Victorian mansion. The place was packed with students holding beer bottles or plastic cups with hard liquor. In the front room, people danced, but on the fringes of it, others tried to talk over the din of the music.

“Oh, come on, Michael, don’t be mad at me.” Portia batted her eyelashes at her fellow student. “I told you my father had an emergency last night and I had to rush to get to him. I would have called earlier if I could.”

Michael pulled her into the hallway where it was only marginally quieter. “All right, but just so you know, I’m not someone to be pushed around. You’re hot, Portia, but I’m not letting you dance on my nose.”

She put her hand on his arm. “I know, Michael. Why don’t we find a place that’s a little quieter?” She motioned her head to the stairs that led to the upper floors.

As Michael took her hand to lead her upstairs, she waited for the spark of excitement to flare, but nothing happened. She glanced at him sideways. He was an inch or so taller than she, quite handsome for a twenty-two-year-old, and well built. She could do worse than Michael. But even though he held her hand firmly in his, and the touch wasn’t unpleasant, there were no bolts of electricity, no flames of fire licking her skin, as when Zane had touched her.

Maybe once they started kissing, she would get in the mood. She had to. Surely, it couldn’t be all that difficult to get in the mood for sex. Hell, one touch by Zane, and she’d been ready to explode like Mount St. Helens. If an unfriendly guy like Zane could do that to her, it shouldn’t be beyond the capabilities of a nice guy like Michael. All they needed was a little privacy, and well, the right mood for it: a dark room, some candles, a fire in a fireplace, some pillows on the floor.

Ah shit! She shouldn’t be dreaming up something romantic. This wasn’t about romance. All she wanted was to lose her virginity. She had no interest in a romantic relationship with Michael. Did he know that?

As they reached the landing, she tugged on his hand. He turned toward her.

“It’s only for tonight,” she stammered, a little at a loss as to how to make it clear to him that she wasn’t interested in a relationship.

“Don’t worry, Lauren explained.”

Shocked, Portia’s mouth fell open. “What did she say?” She hoped Lauren hadn’t blabbed more than was absolutely necessary. This was embarrassing enough as it was.

He grinned, showing his cute dimples. “Don’t look so horrified. She said you’re a little shy when it comes to guys, and that you just want to do it once to get over your shyness. Could have fooled me, but hey, I don’t mind.”

Portia cringed, but swallowed her anxiety. Lauren was right, she just had to get through this once, and then she could go on with her life and wait for the right guy. And even better that Michael understood. That way, there would be no awkwardness afterwards, and they could remain friends.

Portia looked at the few people who littered the upstairs corridor, wondering if they knew what she and Michael were planning, but they seemed too preoccupied with their own lives to even notice them. She was grateful for that.

“Okay then.” She forced a smile and took a step toward one of the bedrooms. A strong hand on her shoulder jerked her back and spun her around. “What the—” The words got stuck in her throat.

Zane towered over her, his face a mask of anger. “You thought I wouldn’t find you?”

Not really; but she hadn’t thought he’d find her before she’d taken care of, well, business.

“Hey, who are you?” Michael interfered. “Leave her alone. She’s with me.”

Zane glared at Michael, and Portia instantly felt sorry for him.  He wouldn’t fare any better than Eric had at her father’s hands. And she really didn’t want that on her conscience.

“She’s not with you. So, shove off.” Zane grabbed her arm and pulled her toward one of the doors.

“Let her go!” Michael insisted.

Portia tossed him a pleading look. He would only get hurt if he tried to fight Zane. And while she wanted to fight Zane herself, she knew she had to pacify Michael first. “It’s all right, Michael. He works for my father.”

Michael tilted his head. “Are you sure? I can call the police.”

Portia shook her head. “No, please, don’t. My father will only get angry.”