Your virginity isn’t something you lose, unless you give it away foolishly like that to some guy too young to understand or appreciate what he’s even getting. Not to mention some high school guy is going to be inexperienced and probably make the entire experience a terrible memory that sticks with you forever.
I waited and I’m even more glad than ever now.
I don’t want to give my first time to any boy, or any man for that matter. I still believe in real love and I want that gift that I have to be a gift to the man who I love more than any and who loves me back just as much.
A man who will respect, cherish, and understand just how much I value my first experience.
And that can be only one man.
Him.
CHAPTER 7
Alexander
I splash cold water over my face and stare at myself in the bathroom mirror.
I almost gave that van Gogh away. I’m in such a good mood today I can’t even negotiate. I just want everyone to be as happy as I am.
Thankfully at the last second I came to my senses and got a good price for it, but damn was that ever close.
If I keep this up I’m going to lose my reputation for being the best art dealer in the city.
I’ve got to get myself under control, but when it comes to her control is the furthest thing from my mind right now.
I splash my face again and then quickly dry my hands and step outside the men’s room.
“Hey Alexander.”
I turn and see Larissa Del Rey there in a red dress so bright and so red I feel like someone needs to call the fire department to come douse it with water.
“Morning, Larissa,” I say.
“I love the Picasso you sold me. It looks amazing in my summer home in the living room. You really should come by and admire it with me…over a glass of wine sometime. Maybe later tonight even,” she says.
I feel the tip of her index finger on my shoulder before it quickly runs down the length of my arm.
My arm pulls back and I suddenly feel the need to take a shower from her attempt to seduce me.
“I don’t think so,” I say, trying to keep things cordial with our gallery’s biggest buyer but also letting her know I’m definitely not interested.
“That’s such a shame. You don’t have a…girlfriend these days do you?”
Her hand comes up again but this time I’m ready.
Before she can rest her grubby little paws on my shoulder I spin on my heel and her grasp only finds air.
“I’m seeing someone now,” I say.
“Oh!” She looks shocked. “Someone has slain the mighty Alexander the Great. She must be a very lucky woman. I’d like to meet her.”
I want to say never, never in a million years would I bring her around someone like Larissa but I keep my cool.
“I’m afraid that won’t be possible. She’s very busy.”
“Everybody has some time. Just for a meeting. The three of us?”
I can only imagine the things she would try and say to her. How she’d try and ruin my perfect Alexa.
“She works from home. She’s very busy.”
“Oh, where does she live? What part of the city?”
“She lives with me. She’s mine,” I say.
I see the shock on Larissa’s face and I pivot on the ball of my foot and take off towards my office before my possessiveness gets even more aggressive.
I leave her standing there in the hallway alone.
I wish her no ill will. I hope she finds someone one day. I truly do, because I’ve finally found my someone and I know how incredible it feels.
She’s all that matters now and I need to figure out how I’m going to make her mine and keep my best friend’s friendship in the process…if I can.
Because I’m willing to risk everything to have her. Everything.
CHAPTER 8
Alexa
“Hey there. I thought we could order…” Alexander’s eyes focus from me to the oven.
“Twenty minutes and our home cooked meal will be ready,” I say.
“Wow,” he says placing his briefcase on the table just inside the door. “I didn’t even know if that oven worked or not.”
“Never used it?”
“Not once. I’m usually at a client dinner or just grab something on the go. A home cooked meal, huh?” He enters the kitchen and looks inside the oven at my lasagna. “I can’t remember when the last time was I had one of those.”
“Four years ago?” I ask.
“Four years…?”
“At my brother’s graduation.”
I see his mind turn my words over. “You know what. You might be right. Even at people’s homes the food is always catered.”
“Well, not tonight. This dish was made with l—…special. My favorite.” My heart catches then races. I almost said made with love and I would have said it if I was at home but saying it now and here seems…different somehow. I’m just talking about food, but still. It’s like the word love carries special significance inside these walls.
Because he’s here.
“And I’m sure it will be my favorite too then,” he says turning to face me.
I look up at him realizing just how much bigger he is when he’s so close. Being around him makes me feel so feminine. Maybe it’s one of the reasons I decided to cook spontaneously. I also felt like he deserved to come home to a warm meal, but something about making it myself for him just seemed right.
Because he seems right. Perfect in fact.
“A glass of wine before dinner?” he asks before raising his index finger in the air then moving it forward and back as he closes his eyes.
“I’m only…”
“Right,” he says. “I almost forgot. But I caught myself right away.”
I know he’s not trying to get me drunk or give me anything illegal. I appreciate the gesture and that he sees me as an adult already. I like the idea that the way I come across to him doesn’t seem juvenile at all.
“Sparkling water?” he asks. “That’s got bubbles too.”
I laugh. “Sure, sounds delicious.”
He grabs the bottle from the fridge and pours two glasses over ice and a lime twist which he quickly prepares on the cutting board.
“So you can cook a little then,” I joke.
“Ice cubes and twists of lime?”
“Uh huh,” I say raising my glass to his. We clink and both take a sip.
“That’s about as far as I go. On a good day.”
“But you probably entertaining clients here from time to time?”
“Surprisingly not,” he says. “I like to keep my personal space…personal.”
“Oh.” A thought hits me for the first time. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
He raises a finger and places it just short of my lips. Oh how I want him to bring it closer.
To touch my lips with his long, thick finger. And even better if that finger of his was his lips and we could kiss right here right now before passion overtook us and he lifted me up on the tabletop and took me, devouring me before we shared our first meal together.
I want to be his first meal. My lips. The small of my neck with little kisses and nibbles. My breasts as he places his warm mouth over them.
And more importantly he wants it too. I can see it in his dilated pupils. The heat in the way he looks at me.
“You’re not intruding at all. You’re not even a guest. You’re a family friend and…a lot more than that, as you’ll see and feel the more time you’re here.”
“Thank you,” I say feeling more comfortable about my presence here.
“You’re welcome, but no need to thank me.” He looks back at the oven. “I’m the one who should be thanking you and hopefully I have some news that will serve as a small token of my appreciation.”
“Oh,” I say. Now I’m really excited. What could he have for me?
Well from my peripheral vision I can see he sure has something for me in his pan
ts. That bulge is massive and I want it all for myself.
“We have a graphic design wing to the gallery. It’s new as graphic design is a newish field. New in that it’s not hundreds or thousands of years old.”
We smile together.
“I think you’d be perfect for it and it would look good on your resume and hopefully get you a head start at Parsons and maybe even meeting some interesting and influential people in your field.”
“Like you,” I say giving him a wink.
He just smiles. He won’t confirm or deny, but I know he’s a big name in the art world. We both do. There’s no need for him say anything.
“You like me?” he jokes, turning my words.
“Hey!” I say. “Okay…maybe jussssst a little,” I say bringing a straightened thumb and first finger close together and then looking at him through the small gap.
“Only that much, huh? Looks like I’ve got some work to do then.”
“Okay, maybe this much,” I say extending my arms wide. He uses the opportunity to move in closer and I can’t resist. I wrap my arms around him in a big hug before I know what’s happening.
I feel the electricity between our bodies and his cock on my body. I feel my nipples harden instantly and my pussy clench.
“You’re a great hugger so you must make an excellent cuddler,” he says.
“I only cuddle with my giant teddy bear at home,” I say, realizing it makes me sound like a kid.
“Not tonight, because there are some new movies and shows that just made it to Netflix today.”
“Perfect. My feet are tired after walking around the city all day. The couch sounds perfect.”
“How was your day?” he asks.
I keep my arms around his waist but pull my body away. I begin telling him all about the places I visit while he listens intently without interrupting a single time. He’s a true gentleman and I can tell he’s actually interested in what I have to say.
How was your day? Such a simple question that we don’t get asked enough these days.
Talking is therapeutic and having a willing and eager listener only makes the question that much more powerful.
Like him.
And the power he gives me by making me feel so good about myself. How he makes me feel like the things I do and the places I go are so interesting by his facial expressions to my words.
And oh are there so many places I want to go and things I want to do with him.
And after dinner we’ll visit the first.
The couch where I’ll cuddle up in his arms and there’s no telling where we’ll go from there.
CHAPTER 9
Alexander
Normally when I get home from work I’m either reading about art, preparing for the next day, or too exhausted from the day that’s just finished to even think about more work.
Well, I certainly don’t have work on my mind tonight, but it’s not because I’m exhausted.
Far from it.
I feel so much energy when I’m around her. I feel like I could do anything. Like I could climb any mountain. Like I could jump behind the controls of a plane and soar to the clouds.
It’s illogical and crazy, but so is what’s happening between us.
And it makes perfect sense at the same time.
I know what kind of girl she is. How perfect she is. I know how her parents raised her.
And now that she’s here and she’s an adult, granted a very young adult, my mind and my body want her more than I’ve ever wanted anything.
I remember the thrill of chasing my first art deal. Then there was the thrill of my first van Gogh.
I though nothing could top those firsts and for years I was right.
Now the thrill of having her makes those other things seem pointless and trivial.
She makes everything seem less important because she’s the most important thing I’ve ever had in my life and I’m not going to let her slip through my fingers.
“Right here’s a warm and comfy spot,” I say motioning to the space on the couch cushions just in front of me. I’ve slid my big body back as far as I can to make room for her so I can spoon her from behind. So I can hold her in my arms.
The air conditioning is just right on this hot summer’s day but still we’ll need a blanket, but not for long. I know one touch and I’ll feel that heat again. My heart is already pumping fast and she hasn’t even cuddled her body up against mine yet.
She smiles and comes over to the couch before turning to face away.
I get a first look at that bubble but of hers and my cock immediately twitches. It’s so close to my face I could lean forward and bite it. Not hard, just playfully.
But I don’t know how long I could remain playful. Once I get the smallest of tastes of her I know it won’t be enough. I know it’ll never be enough.
I know I can only want more when it comes to her.
She slides into position and I feel her ass pressed against my rod.
Fuck, this is so obvious, but she doesn’t move. She only wiggles in closer.
I start the Netflix movie, but I have no idea what it’s even about. We’re five minutes in and my mind is racing a mile a minute.
My eyes aren’t even on the TV. They’re on her. I look down at her beautiful blonde locks and I imagine painters being so inspired by her that they’d give anything to have her as their muse. I imagine her in centuries gone by serving as an inspiration for great arts just as she’s inspiring me. Just as she’s making me feel younger than my thirty-seven years. How in a world of energy suckers and time vampires she’s the one who stands out. The one who gives you energy and makes every second with her feel like the most perfect moment you’ve ever experienced.
I deal in art, but I’m not a sappy guy. Not at all. But after reading thousands of artist biographies over the course of my life and almost always wondering what exactly was wrong with them or what in the world they were thinking I now suddenly understand.
Nothing makes sense until everything does. And now that she’s come into my life this way everything makes complete sense.
My purpose in life is clear. To have a family with her. To fill her with my seed and have our own children together. To raise them and love them just like I’ll bring her along in the art world and fill her full of love and encouragement in her chosen path of graphic design. It’s close enough to mine, but worlds apart as well. So not only will she learn from me, but I’ll learn from her. It will be the perfect two-way street of shared passions.
The two of us couldn’t be more perfect together.
And perfect is exactly how it feels to have her in my arms.
I bring my right hand up from its resting position on the side of her thigh and pause for just a second before I run it through her blonde locks.
There was a twitch and I felt her thigh raise when I removed my hand, like she missed my touch and wanted it back immediately.
And now that my fingers are making gentle contact with her scalp I feel her head press against my touch as she wants to feel me deeply.
Deeply. Exactly how I feel her and want to feel her at the same time.
I can’t control myself. I’m losing my ability to act like a gentleman, like a decent human being. I need to grab her. Take her. Make her mine.
My hand continues along down her jawline and around her face to her cheek. I apply light pressure and she angles her head around to face me.
I stare into those eyes showing her the desire in mine and lean in closer.
I feel her warm breath as her lips part and I know she feels the same from me.
I want this moment to just freeze in time forever. Just. Like. This.
This is too perfect and not near enough all at once.
I need more. More of her.
I brush my fingertips along her cheek once more and then close the final distance until I can almost feel her lips on mine. The anticipation is so high I can almost feel my body trembling in anticipation.
This is nothing like I’ve ever experienced in my entire life.
How I want to savor this. To stay like this.
But I can’t. My obsession for her takes over and my lips melt into hers the moment our two lips meet I feel a heat transfer from her lips to mine which continues throughout my body as I exhale into her. My body falls into hers and hers into mine.
Virgin in New York: An Older Man Younger Woman Romance (A Man Who Knows What He Wants Book 59) Page 3
