Two Weeks of Sin: A Billionaire & Virgin Romance

by Rye Hart

  She'd been approached to model, and she'd dabbled in it a time or two. On the other side of that coin though, was me. I was too short to model, standing at only five foot four, and was too curvy in the hips and bust. Secretly, I'd always been jealous of her for being tall and lean – the kind of girl that caught the eye of modeling agencies.

  But I was pleased to note, that for the first time in my life, she was jealous of me. Jealous, because I got to live in the basement apartment. It had once been the family room when we all lived together, but it rarely got used anymore.

  “You're just jealous because you can't sneak boys in anymore,” I said.

  My mother came into the room, carrying a basket of my clothes. She looked pretty young for her age; more like a slightly older version of my sister and me.

  “We still need to paint down there,” she said. “We didn't expect anyone moving in so soon.”

  That just annoyed Riley even more. She sighed dramatically and left the room in a huff.

  “What's wrong with her?” dad asked, following my mom in from outside.

  “She's just mad that I'm getting the basement,” I said.

  “Ahhh,” my dad said, pushing his glasses up higher on his face. He was carrying a box of my stuff in from the car too. “I never really wanted her to have it in the first place. I was always afraid she might sneak her boyfriend in.”

  “Exactly!” I said.

  “But I have that fear about you too, of course,” he said.

  “Dad, I was in college, if I wanted to have sex, I would have,” I said and then shot him a mischievous grin. “Or, at least I'd be smart enough to have it somewhere else.”

  He cringed, obviously feeling a little uncomfortable over how open I was about the subject. It was true though. I'd had plenty of opportunities to jump into the beds of more than a few guys while I'd been in school down at San Diego State, but I hadn’t.

  I hadn't, because I wasn't stupid and didn't find any guys that actually interested me. My sister, on the other hand, was very likely already sleeping with her boyfriend of nine months. My parents had a legit concern there, but they didn't have to worry about me. As far as I was concerned, a guy better be pretty damn amazing to get in my pants, and so far, I hadn't met anyone worthy of taking my V-card.

  We carried my items down to my new room. The basement had its own separate entrance into the backyard, which was nice. We had a large patio that overlooked the pool in the back and lucky for me, it was just outside those doors. My parents were right about it needing a paint job though. But it was actually, pretty awesome, all things considered.

  The actual family room part of the basement had a sofa and an entertainment center already set up and ready to go. There was a bathroom and a bedroom off to one side.

  All in all, it wasn't too shabby. It sure beat the dorms at college, that was for sure. I was thankful that I'd no longer have to put up with my slutty roommate getting it on in bed beside me all the damn time, at least. Nor would I have to worry about stepping on used condoms with my bare feet as I got ready in the morning. I shuddered just thinking about it.

  As much as I disliked her, my roommate wasn't the only reason I took time off of school. I found that the whole college culture in general just wasn't for me. All the partying, the sex, the pot smoking, really wasn't really my thing. Of course, I should have known what I was getting into when I decided to go to a party school, but I figured I'd be able to tune out all of the unwanted distractions. I honestly didn't realize just how bad it would be until I got there.

  It didn't take very long to figure out that it was all too much for me.

  We finished unloading the car and my mom went upstairs to make us some lunch. My father had some errands to run, which left me alone in my new room. The first thing I did was step outside and let the warm California sunshine touch my skin. I turned my face up into the warmth, basking in the glow of the sun.

  The reason I chose to go to school in San Diego in the first place was simple enough – I loved Southern California and I loved the beach. And not being too far from home made me feel better. Some people liked to go far away, leaving everything and everyone they knew behind, but I wasn't one of those types. I preferred being somewhat close to my family and friends. San Diego had some of my favorite beaches, sure, but being back in Huntington Beach was nice. It was comfortable; it was home.

  I heard my neighbor's kids playing in their pool. I could barely see over the fence that divided our properties, but I could see Marcus Pratt's head well enough. He'd been our neighbor for as long as I could remember. I'd always thought he was a nice guy and a good father. I'd also always thought that he was drop dead gorgeous. He was watching his kids in the pool, an inscrutable expression on his face, when he looked over and saw me staring.

  I blushed, looking away a moment after he'd caught me . I felt foolish because I'd always had a silly, schoolgirl crush on the man even though he was almost my father's age.

  “Emma, I didn't know you were back,” he said, leaning over the fence and giving me a small smile. “The semester over already?”

  “Not exactly,” I said, biting my lip. “I decided SDSU wasn't for me.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “Yeah,” I said, quickly changing the subject. “How are the kids?”

  “Good, good,” he said. “Zoey is finishing up first grade, Zack starts kindergarten next fall. Both are doing well. They've missed you though and will be happy to see that you're back. And honestly, I missed having you babysit for them.”

  “I'd be happy to watch them again, now that I'm back,” I said. Not like I have much else going on at the moment, I thought but didn't say.

  “That would be great,” he said. “Riley watches them sometimes, but she's so busy, you know?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I think school and track keep her tied up pretty well.”

  As well as her boyfriend, whom she spent all her free time with lately.

  Marcus was a really, really attractive man, like the type of man women dreamt of at night. He'd played football back when he'd been in college and he'd almost gone pro back in the day my dad said – and you could tell. He was still in fabulous shape. I'd seen him shirtless countless times when he played in the pool with his kids and always caught myself staring at him.

  Every now and then, I'd get a nice view of him and did my best not to stare, but damn it was hard. He had chocolate brown hair and hazel eyes that I caught myself getting lost in all too often. He was the type of man I'd happily give my virginity to, if it wasn't for the fact that he was so much older than I was.

  Well, that, and the fact that he'd never shown any interest in me. Even when I'd tanned by the pool in my itty-bitty bikinis back in the day – partly, hoping to catch his eye – I'd never caught him staring. He'd always been incredibly well-behaved, which I took to mean, he had no interest in me.

  “Well, tell the kids I said hello,” I said. “And I hope to see them soon.”

  “Will do,” he said.

  He smiled, but it was a friendly, almost perfunctory smile. It didn't quite reach his eyes and didn't strike me as a genuine smile. Though, I couldn't recall ever seeing Marcus actually smile; not in a really long time. It had been several years since his wife had died, and I knew he missed her terribly, but was doing his best to carry on. He was a good father, devoted to his children and his career, but he was always so very serious.

  What I wouldn't give to see a smile on that man's face – one that lit his eyes up from the inside out. I couldn't recall ever seeing it anymore, not even when he was with his kids. He always seemed so distracted or stressed out about something.

  All I knew is it was no way to live your life and my heart went out to him.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Riley went out with Seth,” my mom said, coming down a few of the stairs into the basement a while later and looked at me. “I'm inviting some of the neighbors over for a barbeque. Figured it would sort of be a ‘Welcome Back’ part
y for you.”

  “Mom, you didn't have to do that,” I said.

  “It's just a few people,” she said. “Nothing big. I promise. If you have any friends you'd like to invite, go right ahead.”

  Yeah, right. All my friends were still away at college. Of my two best friends, Rachel, was at UC-Berkeley, and Hannah was somewhere on the East coast because she was a rebel and wanted to get as far away as possible. And as I scrolled down the list of friends in my head, all of them were away at college. I was the only failure in my group of friends who'd given up and gone home.

  It didn't matter though. It was a backyard barbecue, not some big party. I started to get myself ready, using some makeup tricks my former roommate taught me when she wasn't having sex or getting wasted. She was a pretty girl, so I'd picked up a few pointers from her on how to make my blue eyes pop even more.

  She was also the one who'd talked me into dying the underside of my hair pink and getting my nose pierced. And I hadn't even been flat out drunk either time. Though, in all honestly, I'd allowed myself to get just a little tipsy as I tried to fit in with the other girls.

  Even though it was warm out at the moment, I knew it would be cool later. I put on some black leggings with a pink t-shirt dress over top . I cinched it with a black belt and was good to go.

  I went out back and found my dad already at the grill, enjoying a beer with Marcus. Zoey and Zack were running around the backyard with some of the other kids who lived on our street. It was slightly chaotic, and laughter filled the air. I had to admit, it felt good to be home.

  I looked over at Marcus, but tried not to stare. He was wearing tight, dark jeans and a t-shirt that hugged his thick, sun-darkened arms. I could see his biceps bulging beneath the thin fabric and tried to imagine what it would be like to feel them wrapped around me, pulling me close, and holding me tight.

  Of course, as always, he picked that moment to look over and catch me staring.

  “There she is!” my dad said, motioning for me to come over to where they were standing.

  Feeling all kinds of awkward for getting caught leering at Marcus – again – I walked over and hugged my dad, doing my very best to avoid looking at Marcus. My dad had some pork steaks on the grill along with some chicken. He was an avid griller and was always looking for an excuse to cook for people. My mom brought out some bags of chips and some dips, setting them on the table not far from us.

  The O'Briens from down the street walked in, their two young kids rushing toward Zoey and Zack.

  I had really missed this. I'd always been more of a homebody anyway, not one big into the party scene, and never one to stray too far from Huntington Beach . My sister seemed to take it all for granted, but I knew I had it good there. I had a dad that made a nice living, which allowed us to live in a beautiful home and able to afford a lot of luxuries in life. I also had a mom who was able to spend time raising us as well as volunteer in the community instead of working full-time. And of course, I had a sister that was, well, a pain in the rear to be honest, but I also loved her dearly. Before I left, we'd been very close. But me being away had put a distance between us, and that was something I was eager to work on fixing.

  “Emma, it's great to see you,” Natalie O'Brien said, hugging me close. “We're glad to have you back home.”

  Natalie and her husband, Liam, were also parents I'd babysat for at times over the years. Everyone knew me on the block because I'd watched everyone's kids. Heck, maybe that was something I could use that to my advantage somehow. Maybe, I could become a nanny.

  “Great to see you too,” I said. “How are the kids?”

  “Stubborn and loud, as always,” she laughed. “But no, really, they're great.”

  “Glad to hear it,” I said.

  More people filtered into the backyard, but I found myself repeatedly glancing over at Marcus. I so badly wanted to speak to him, to start a conversation that wasn't about me watching his kids, but I didn't know what to say, adult-to-adult. To him, I was always just the girl next door, the child of his friend. And I wasn't sure anything would change that.

  CHAPTER THREE

  MARCUS

  “I don't want my issues affecting my kids,” I said, staring down at my hands as I spoke to the therapist sitting across from me. “I know I don't spend enough time with them as it is. And I know that when I do, it's almost always dropping them in front of the television while I work on my laptop. Gina wouldn't have wanted our kids to be raised that way, but I don't know what else to do. Being a single parent isn't all that simple.”

  “What about making time just for the three of you?” Dr. Miller asked. “An activity outside the house that all three of you could enjoy together?”

  “Like what?” I asked, scratching my chin.

  “You're an athletic person, what about an outdoor activity you could do and stay active together?

  Raising an eyebrow, I stared at Dr. Miller, trying to come up with something we could do. “What, maybe something like hiking?” I asked.

  “Yes, like hiking,” he replied. “But instead, make it something with a specific time and date, so it's on your schedule. Not just when you get time for it, because we both know, you'll never find time for it otherwise. You need to schedule these things.”

  I'd been seeing Dr. Harold Miller since Gina passed away. We'd worked through my survivor's guilt and everything tied to it. It was years later and I couldn't believe I still needed help. I hated to admit that to anyone, but my depression never went away. If it weren't for my children, I very likely would have given up long ago. But I knew they deserved better than a father who'd given up on life – and by extension, gave up on them.

  Some days were easier than others, though. And even still, there were days I had to fight to keep my spirits up and nose clean. But every day was worth it when I stared back at my two little babies, the children I'd fathered with Gina. I'd had to learn to accept that she was gone, but was still trying to learn that she lived on through them.

  “Why don't you try surfing lessons?” he suggested. “Given that you live in a beach environment it couldn't hurt to get the kids on the water early, help teach them safety and all that. And it would be fun for all three of you.”

  “I've never surfed before. ”

  “That's the point,” Dr. Miller said. “You will be learning right alongside them. You'll all start off on the same footing and have some fun with it.”

  “I don't know,” I said.

  Zoey had shown an interest in body boarding whenever we went to the beach, and she loved the water. Zack was less enthusiastic about the water, but perhaps this could be a way to help him overcome his fear. I thought that maybe with repeated exposure that slowly, but surely, he could gain confidence on the water and learn to love it.

  “Well, you can pick something else, of course” he said. “Just pick something, and stick to it. Do something as a family that doesn't involve work; something that is purely for fun and enjoyment.”

  He was right there. I needed to stop focusing so much on my career as much as I did. After Gina's death, I'd thrown myself completely into my job to the near exclusion of anything else. I rationalized it as needing to earn a living to provide for the kids, but deep down, I knew that wasn't fair to them. It gave us a comfortable life, one that came with a lot of perks and privileges, but I knew my children needed their father to be present and attentive more than they needed things.

  “And not to change the subject or anything,” Dr. Miller said, “but how's the dating life going?”

  We'd talked in recent sessions about how I needed to start dating again. Dr. Miller thought I was ready to venture out into that world, but I disagreed. He'd somehow talked me into putting myself out there though. I wasn't sure how he'd gotten me to agree, but he had. I'd done as he'd asked though, but hadn't taken to it all that enthusiastically.

  “I had one date last week. Melinda, was her name,” I said. “She seemed nice when we chatted online.”


  “But?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

  “But when we met up in person, she drank a lot,” I said. “More than I was comfortable with.”

  “How much is a lot?”

  “Three, four cocktails maybe?”

  “Maybe she was nervous?” he suggested. “It was a first date after all.”

  “I just couldn't deal with it,” I said, shaking my head.

  “Fair enough. I understand,” Dr. Miller said. “Anyone else?”

  “Where do I begin?” I laughed, rubbing my temples. “I've been on a few dates over the last few months, and not a single one has worked out for me. None of them were good enough to introduce to my children.”

  “Stop thinking about introducing them to your children for now. That should be the furthest thing from your mind this early on. Try focusing on yourself and just date them,” he said. “No one says you have to get married right away, Marcus. You're not holding auditions for a mom to replace Gina. That's not what this is about. This is about having fun and connecting with another adult.”

  I shrugged. “I'm just not finding anyone I connect with,” I said.

  “Because none of them live up to Gina?” he asked.

  “That's part of it. Gina was something special,” I said. “She was truly my soul mate, and I don't even believe in that shit. But we had something special, something I'm not finding with anyone else.”

  Dr. Miller nodded. “You'll never replace Gina,” he said. “Never in a million years. And I wouldn't encourage it even if you could. You shared something special with her that can't ever be duplicated. But that doesn't mean you can't find something equally as special in its own right. And just because she's gone doesn't mean you have to live the rest of your life alone. She wouldn't have wanted that, Marcus. Gina would have wanted you to be happy.”

  His platitudes were the same I'd heard from almost everybody since the day I'd lost her. I was almost sick to death of being told she'd want me to be happy. Yes, she would have. I wasn't denying that. But she also wouldn't want just anyone raising our children. I had a right – an obligation, really – to be picky. It wasn't just about me, it was about those two precious kids who deserved a stepmother who loved and cared for them as deeply as a mother would.