Forbidden Virgin

by Carmen Falcone

  “Cool. You have the weekend off. Lucky,” he said, his words living proof he’d been checking her schedule.

  “Thanks.” She clutched her tote against her, and waved, heading out of the hotel. She hadn’t seen Graham in six long days, and couldn’t wait to see his face. They’d talked while he was away, and she loved falling asleep to his sexy voice. She even texted him a couple of nudes once to keep him on his toes. That same day he’d called her and talked about how he left a meeting to go jerk himself off to the pictures, which in turn got her all hot and she touched herself while talking to him on the phone.

  He’d told her to wear a bikini, and she’d bought a sexy one. The type her family would certainly frown upon, but who cared? He’d also instructed her to meet him in the parking lot so people wouldn’t see him pick her up at the main entrance. She’d agreed.

  She spotted his Land Rover and sprinted to it as he slid out of the car to open the door for her. Wow. The man looked even hotter, if that was possible.

  “Graham. I missed you,” she said, jumping into his arms.

  They were far enough so no bellhops or any other employees could see him, especially with the amount of cars parked and guests swarming the drop-off area. Perhaps he thought the same thing, for he cupped her face in his hands and lowered his lips to hers.

  He kissed her with a passion so powerful it buckled her knees. She leaned into him, her head bobbing in a sweet daze and he held her against him. His powerful erection pulsated against her and the friction teased her without mercy. How she wanted this man. He embodied everything she imagined and more. “Soak it in, because there’s no more touching until tonight,” he said, and kissed her nose.

  “What do you mean?” Did he change his mind as far as having sex with her? She lifted her chin. If he were about to play any games, she’d argue until she had her way. No matter what he said, she’d felt the way his heart raced when she touched him. Nothing he’d say would convince her he didn’t want her as much as she did him.

  “We’re having a different day. I’m taking you surfing. Hands off each other.”

  Surfing. Since when had she signed up for outdoor, non-sexual exercising? “Fine. But you are no fun.”

  He winked at her, and her heart skipped a beat. “My goal today is to prove you otherwise.”

  Graham parked the car at Little Beach. He usually preferred surfing at nearby Big Beach, but it’d be easier to go somewhere the waves would be more forgiving for her first lesson. He’d counted every minute during his absence, and missed her more than he could believe.

  Keeping his hands off her would be hard. He’d jerked off every day during his trip, especially after she sent him sinful pictures of her perfect tits and ass. He knew if he wanted to screw her he could do it now, at the beach, in the car, anywhere. And he would—but not yet.

  Kate was young but a lot more honest about what she wanted than him—one of the things maturity usually stole from people: the boldness, the light way of doing things without overthinking consequences. But screwing with her impossibly hot body would bring undeniable effects. He’d be her first, and he’d be breaking a rule so basic between men no one even talked about: don’t sleep with your buddy’s daughter.

  His mind agreed, but his body simmered in a stage of incredible arousal. Every time he thought of her, looked at her or even pronounced her name, a latent desire snaked around him and everything else evaporated.

  So he’d do it. He didn’t just want to make tonight special for her—he wanted to become special for her. Not just the Graham Davenport she had fantasized about, but maybe she’d enjoy who he really was. Sure, the process would take time, but a good first step would be to show her the things he enjoyed. Surfing ranked high on the list.

  “This beach is gorgeous,” she said, when he opened the door for her.

  “I love surfing. Helps me clear my mind of things. When I grew up in L.A., I wanted to be a professional surfer but I wasn’t good enough,” he said. Or had the money to afford a decent board. Back then, he’d been too worried about finding a place to sleep and moving away from his cocaine addict parents to worry about anything else.

  She put her hand above her forehead to see the waves. “I’m glad you didn’t give up.”

  He shook his head. Was she even listening? “I’m not a professional surfer. How have I not given up?”

  She faced him, and lifted her chin the same way she did whenever she meant business. “Well, you still do what you enjoy on your free time. You didn’t give up on your passion; just changed the capacity. You could have stopped surfing completely. So many people stop doing what they love when life smacks them on the ass.”

  “You have an interesting way of looking at things, Kate,” he said. Maintaining his fat bank account didn’t equal to a smack on the ass in any way, shape, or form, but he knew what she meant. A wave of pride skated down his spine, and he caught himself smiling. Who knew? He just learned a nugget of life lesson from Kate.

  “I try,” she said, removing her cover-up. The most tempting bikini he’d ever seen mocked his self-control. A hot pink flimsy fabric covered her nipples and not much else on top; strings at the side tied the bottom and he didn’t even dare to look at what her formidable ass looked like.

  She chuckled, a shade of pink staining her cheeks. “Too much?”

  He wanted to tear the ridiculous scrap of nylon with his teeth and give it to her good and hard, but he talked down his lust and simply said, “I have some wetsuits in the trunk.”

  Groaning, he reached for the back of his car and retrieved the wetsuits he’d brought for protection. He gave her hers, and she slid it on. He focused on getting his on but it proved difficult to keep from looking at her sliding into the suit. When she asked him to zip her up, he caught a whiff of her fresh scent and soaked it in. His cock strained painfully against the material. “Are you ready?”

  “Show me what you’ve got,” she said, her gaze sliding down his waist. “Or should I say what else you’ve got? Are you sure you don’t need any help?” She licked the corner of her lips.

  “I’m trying to be the good guy. Trust me, doesn’t happen often,” he said, remembering how upset Amanda became when he broke up with her. He should have cared more for her. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her, yet he didn’t like her enough—certainly didn’t love her—to make the right decision for them instead of for him.

  He carried his board and she did hers; he offered to carry hers but she refused his help. For the next few hours, he taught her how to surf and she showed potential. They enjoyed lunch at a nearby bistro, and then he took her to his house.

  “Are you changing your mind about keeping hands off?” She winked at him when he parked at the driveway.

  “No. I have a little gift for you at my place.” Because I don’t want you to wear a dress your father bought you on the same night I’m about to screw you.

  Her smile broadened. “Can’t wait to see.”

  He flicked off the security alarm at the entrance and opened the door for her. Her presence in his place made his chest tighten. She glanced around his open-floor, airy living room filled with floor-to-ceiling windows. He’d opted not to install any drapes to keep the view of the beach. She glided her fingers on his white sofa.

  “I’ve always wondered about your home,” she said. “It’s very you.”

  “Very me?”

  She caressed the standing lamp, and he had to yank his gaze from her fingers to keep from jumping her. “Modern, straight-forward, elegant. A little bit kinky with all the glass. A voyeur’s paradise, I bet.”

  Voyeur’s paradise. Maybe she had a point. The image of him fucking her from behind as she plastered her hands on the glass inundated his mind. He never got off thinking of people seeing him, but when it came to Kate his blood boiled and he needed to claim her as his. Which was crazy—their affair would be short-lived and secretive. Otherwise the consequences could be disastrous. “Not a concern of mine. No voyeurs here.”
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br />   “Really? You never dated any psychos?”

  “That’s not what I said,” he said coyly, not wanting to get into his share of bad relationships. There hadn’t been many though—he’d always been very selective toward whom he dated. After he made it financially it seemed like women always saw him as a total package for marriage and family. He, however, had never met someone who made him want to go all the way. And how could he agree to put his life on the line for someone for whom he didn’t feel completely invested in? He couldn’t—he wouldn’t. Maybe Amanda had a point. I am a selfish bastard.

  “Where’s my gift?”

  “I’ll bring it to you.” He had kept it in his bedroom, but in hindsight that had been a bad idea. If she entered his room he wasn’t sure he would be able to keep his promise and not take her before the right time. But damn it, he’d enjoyed talking to her, and focusing on things other than their attraction—even if their pull sure gave him an annoying erection he kept having to undermine. He grabbed the big white box with the red bow and gave it to her.

  She opened it, and lifted the red Valentino cocktail dress from the box. He imagined the V neckline and the soft fabric would outline her gorgeous curves. “It’s beautiful. You picked it?”

  He nodded, quite pleased he’d been right about her size.

  “Who knew you’d be such a good shopper?” she said when she found the black stilettos and silver clutch in between the sheets of tissue paper.

  “I have a hidden agenda, baby. I’m no saint.”

  She chuckled. “No. I don’t think a saint would want anyone to dress this sexy.”

  A couple of hours later, he walked into the Four Seasons ballroom with her by his side. She’d chosen a cherry red lipstick to match the dress and pulled her hair up in a knot with a few strands falling rebelliously.

  Thankfully, this event wouldn’t have any of his employees from his hotel. They were in Hawaii, far away from her family and for all accounts she worked as his trainee. He’d introduce her as Kate without a last name or a title.

  “So, you’re representing the hotel in this event?” she asked when she saw the logo of the hotel monogrammed in the menu.

  “Yes. Well, I’m one of the sponsors,” he said, hoping that would be enough to secure a Preston deal. At least it would be a start—his hotels were known for being a tourist and couples’ haven, but he wanted to acquire more corporate accounts for big events.

  “Why didn’t they hold it at your hotel?”

  “Because they have a contract with this one, which will expire this year.”

  She nodded. “And by you coming here you give an extra boost to the idea of you maybe hosting next year?”

  “Yes.”

  “Nice,” she said when the hostess took them to their table. A couple of guests greeted him, and he motioned to introduce her when someone nudged his elbow.

  “Graham,” a known female voice called him, and he turned around to see Amanda. It had been six or seven months since he’d last seen her, and almost a year since they’d last slept together and broke off for the last time.

  “Amanda,” he said, and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. “How are you? You look well.”

  Amanda’s smile reached her brown eyes. She wore a long black dress that suited her statuesque physique well. “Thank you. I thought you’d be here,” she said, giving him a look he preferred to ignore.

  Shit. “Kate, this is Amanda. Amanda, this is Kate,” he gestured. He usually peppered introductions with snippets of information about each person but in this case, less was definitely more. He tugged at his collar.

  Amanda raised her manicured eyebrow in recognition of the young woman next to him. “You look familiar, Kate. Where do we know each other from?”

  “I must have one of those faces,” Kate said, smiling like she wasn’t guilty of tempting an older man. “It’s great to meet you, Amanda.” She stretched out her hand.

  Amanda gave her hand the quickest of glances before taking it in hers and shaking it. “Pleasure.”

  Harold Carlton, a real estate developer he’d once done business with sat at the table and called his name. Graham pulled the chair for Kate to sit before joining her at exchanging small pleasantries with the man. During this time, Amanda swayed to the music of the eighteen-piece band, a sweet melody from the fifties with jazzy notes. She also chatted with passersby, and he wondered why she lurked. She probably had a table of her own located at a strategic place. What else could she possibly have to tell him?

  After Harold finally shushed, Graham excused himself and stood. Carlton’s wife Evelyn struck a lively conversation with Kate.

  “Everything okay, Amanda?” he asked, the polite version of what’s your deal.

  She grinned and leaned closer so others wouldn’t hear. “I know you want to snatch the ballroom parties for the coming years. I’m also a good friend of Mark Preston.”

  “What do you want?” he asked.

  “I want to offer the alcohol. We can sell it as a package to them. You do the hotel and food and use my distribution company for alcohol,” she said.

  In one way, he should be relieved she seemed over their break-up. But would doing business with her be a good idea? “I use a different company.”

  She shrugged. “Yes, but you can make the call and change your suppliers. You’re the boss.”

  “I’ll double check our contracts to ensure we won’t be breaching any clauses with our current vendor,” he settled for saying. It’d be sexist to believe they couldn’t work together in a mutually beneficial deal just because they’d once dated. Yet he did need to make sure he could offer her what she wanted.

  She nodded at him, then let out a sigh. “Just don’t wait too long. We don’t want anyone else to snatch the deal. Nice seeing you,” she said, then sauntered out of sight.

  He sat again, and thankfully the other couples had engaged in a chat about the environment and he could just tune off.

  Kate turned her face to him. “Why did you two stop dating?” she asked casually.

  “She wanted to get married,” he said honestly. How convenient for him to leave out the part where he easily wrote Amanda out of his life when he discovered they’d wanted different things. He touched his collar. God, he hated suits.

  She leaned in closer, her gaze darting at his lips. “I should send her a thank you note.”

  “Don’t,” he hissed out. Graham watched her, and how her beautiful eyes contemplated his mouth, his neck, then she stared back at his eyes again. His groin stirred, and his body became a machine with a malfunctioning plug. He couldn’t flick it on and off, because whenever she looked at him like this, he was always on. His throat grew dry and thick. He’d wanted to make this special for her and to dance with her. To share a thousand-dollar meal and to exchange sexual innuendos during the dessert. Well, he’d have to scrap all that bullshit now. Her eyes sparked and he wondered if she knew, or even anticipated, his plan. His heart flipped in his chest and he inched closer to her ear. “Want to get out of here?”

  Chapter 5

  Kate gasped.

  Graham opened the door, then shut it with a kick without releasing her. Within the next seconds, they kissed and stumbled over the furniture, as they made their way to his bedroom. A lamp fell to the floor when she pushed him against the wall. He started to undress in the hallway, without unlocking their lips. She motioned to help him, but he slammed her against the opposite wall.

  She breathed into the wall, panting. He unzipped her dress, and it slid down her body quickly. Soon the warmth of his body enveloped her, and goose bumps tingled her skin.

  “I’ve been waiting for this the whole week. I’m so turned on right now,” he whispered in her ear.

  Try waiting four years. A rush of adrenaline moved through her and she could barely concentrate. Overwhelming emotions filled her, clogging her throat. After years of dreaming and yearning, he’d be her first man. “Me too.” She turned her head and tilted her face to kiss h
im but all she managed was for the tip of her tongue to touch his. The contact belted a short circuit in her system and she moaned. “I want you so much, Graham.”

  He cupped her breasts which had never felt fuller or heavier.

  She bucked her hips into him, undulating and rubbing them against his hard-on. His breath fanned her neck, making her shiver with desire. “I’ve never wanted any woman the way I do you,” he said, his voice dropping an octave.

  He moved her around, picked her up in his arms. While he carried her to his bed, she thought about his words. Did he mean them, or did he say them to everyone he slept with? Either way, he’d said them to her and she couldn’t ignore the bubble of happiness forming inside her.

  When he eased her on his bed, she glanced around the room, a quick recognition of his domain. The soft bedspread caressed her skin, causing her to rub her limbs on it, wanting to prolong the delicious sensation.

  “Never did I think I’d see you naked on my bed.” His voice carried a strained tone that made her want to hug him. She stared at him, as he undressed himself in quick swift movements and tossed the clothes on the floor. Each time a piece of clothing parted from his body, another tingle of excitement traveled through her.

  When he leaned over her in his naked glory and with a ridiculously large cock, her heart hammered in her chest. She didn’t say a word, but hoped he’d read the message in her eyes. She wanted him so much but a pang of fear quickened her pulse. What if she sucked at this?

  “You still want me?” he asked as if he read her thoughts.

  She licked her lips. “More than anything.”