His Virgin Bride

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His Virgin Bride Page 7

by Riley Rollins


  "Well, good for you," says Aya, slapping Leah on the shoulder. "Go get 'em." Then she faces me. "So have you guys… you know?"

  Leah's face turns red and we exchange glances. "You don't waste any time, do you?"

  "There aren't any secrets here," says Aya. "Leah and I have been friends forever. Since middle school. We tell each other everything anyway."

  Leah starts to look stiff and nervous, and I'm not sure why. Aya looks at her. "Did you tell him… that you're… you know?"

  I raise an eyebrow, unsure of what Aya is talking about.

  Then Leah changes the topic quickly. "Here comes our food," she says, and the waitress approaches our table with two huge baskets of wings.

  "That was fast," Leah says with a smile, and she looks relieved. I try to read her, but I can't. Both her and Aya look awkward now. They're clearly hiding something, I just don't know what it is.

  We devour the wings, and end up ordering a third basket because we're all so hungry. We try the Thai Curry flavor, and it's pretty damn good too. Maybe I should put Buffalo Wild Wings into the regular rotation alongside Dorsia for the future.

  Leah's friend Aya is a crude loudmouth, but I like her. The two of them make a good team, and they clearly have a very tight friendship. I'm getting a better sense of Leah's personality, and I can see her fitting into my life in a more serious way than just dating or sex.

  But speaking of sex, I can't fucking wait much longer to get Leah naked in my bed. Or on the roof. Or in my office. Or in public.

  Wherever. I have a literal craving to find out what her body looks like, and to put my hands—and my hard cock—all over it. And inside it, too.

  At the end of the meal, I start to take out my debit card to pay, but Leah beats me to the punch again and grins at me as she slips her card to the waitress before I can intervene. It impresses me. I can't remember the last time a woman refused to let me pay.

  "So," says Aya, leaning back in the booth and letting out a huge belch, "Are you coming back to our place tonight?" She grins at me, then at Leah.

  "I think he can come see our place," says Leah, smiling. My cock hardens inside my pants. I can't fucking wait to get my hands on Leah tonight. I'm not going to press her to do anything she doesn't want to do…

  But I'm going to make her want to do everything.

  I don't even get my shoes off before I'm on top of Leah in her bed.

  "God, I need you so fucking bad," I whisper in her ear. I bite her earlobe and flick my tongue over her ear. She sinks further into the pillows and the sheets. My lips trace over her cheek and find her lips, and she moans into my mouth as I kiss her deeply.

  "Hands up," I order, and she obeys. I slip her t-shirt up and off her body, and my eyes instantly dart toward her beautiful stomach and chest. Her breasts can't be more than a B-cup, which is exactly the size I like best. Just enough to fit in my hand. She's got just a little extra around her hips, enough that I know that I won't break her, and it makes me hard as hell.

  No, she doesn't have the body of a supermodel. She has the body of a regular girl. She has the body of Leah Price. And because I'm crazily attracted to Leah Price, I think it's absolutely perfect.

  "There's not a goddamn thing I would change about you," I growl to her as I run the back of my hand over her bust. Her breasts feel so fucking soft and perky against the back of my hand, and I can't fucking wait to get her bra off. I want to see what those nipples look like, and I want to feel how heavy her breasts are when I hold them in my hands. The girl is a fucking knockout.

  "Tell me where they serve you on the menu," I say, "Because I'm going there every single night of the week."

  My cock is rock hard in my pants. I nudge Leah's legs apart, and I press them up to her chest, rubbing my hardness through her leggings, right where her clit is.

  She moans in pleasure, wrapping her legs around me. She pulls me closer.

  "I'm not very… experienced," she says shyly. "Don't be upset with me if I don't do things perfectly."

  I tip my head, and I cup her cheeks in my palms. "Why would I ever be mad at you about something like that?"

  "I don't know," she says, "I just felt like I should tell you."

  The truth is, I suspected she might not have a lot of experience with guys. She seems very shy and slow to get sexual. But that doesn't bother me at all.

  I roll off her and lie down on my side next to her. "I'll teach you," I say. I take her hand and place it over the bulge in my pants.

  She looks at me like a deer in headlights, and it really makes me wonder just how inexperienced she is.

  "It's okay," I say. "Go on. You're not going to hurt me."

  She palms my cock through my pants, rubbing her hand up and down, letting her fingers play over my hard length through the fabric. I close my eyes and savor the sensation. I'm not in any rush.

  I hook my fingertips under the edge of her bra and slide my fingers around, dipping them between the fabric and her skin. The tip of my middle finger grazes her nipple, and it feels firm and soft, perfect for my lips.

  "You're perfect," I whisper to her. "All your parts are amazing."

  "Kiss me again," she says, her voice shaking, and I do.

  I place my lips on hers, swirling my tongue over hers. My cock stiffens even more in my pants as she plays with it.

  "I want to feel your skin against mine," I say.

  With shaking hands, she tugs on the zipper of my pants, then tries to undo the button. It's abundantly clear that she doesn't have much experience doing this, so I help her out. Once my pants are unbuttoned and the zipper is down, she looks at me with a nervous look on her face.

  I place my hand over hers and guide her fingertips into the elastic band of my boxer briefs.

  "Go on," I say, "You're doing great."

  She seems ridiculously apprehensive, but I can feel her heart beating hard inside her chest. Her face is flushed. She's clearly turned on and wants this.

  "You know you don't have to do anything you don't want to do," I remind her.

  She nods. "I know. But I want this."

  Leah pushes her hand lower and lower, and then I feel her fingertips come into contact with the soft, bare skin of my cock for the first time.

  The feeling is totally electric. "Grab it," I tell her.

  She does.

  "Squeeze. You won't hurt me."

  She wraps her fingers around the base of my cock and she squeezes, tugging her hand up and down. It feels fucking amazing, and I just stare into her eyes as she jerks me off beneath my boxer briefs.

  But then she stops and suddenly pulls her hand out of my boxers.

  "Hey," I say, sitting up, "What's going on?" My cock fucking aches, but I'm more concerned about what's going on with Leah than with my cock. She's been acting weird all night, ever since that exchange with Aya at Buffalo Wild Wings.

  I want to know what's going on with her.

  She looks at me nervously. "There's something else I have to tell you," she says.

  I frown. She sounds serious, and I'm not sure what she could be talking about. Is she going to say that she has a boyfriend? Is she going to say she can't see me anymore?

  "Go for it," I say. "I want you to say whatever is on your mind when you're around me."

  "Okay," she says, and then she takes a deep breath before continuing. "I'm a virgin."

  Suddenly everything makes a whole lot more sense.

  I laugh. "That's the thing you had to tell me about?"

  "Yes," she says tentatively. "But not just that… I've never gotten a guy off at all."

  "Damn," I say. "Really?"

  "Really."

  A grin slowly spreads over my face. "I don't have a problem with that at all."

  "Really?"

  "Hell no. I want to be the first guy you experience that with. That's hot as hell."

  She starts to relax. "But," she says, "I don't know if I'm ready to go any further tonight."

  "That's fine," I say. "We
have all the time in the world, Leah. You're worth the wait."

  I stay at Leah's place until four o'clock in the morning. We cuddle and talk all night. About our exes, about book publishing, and about our families. The only close family member she has is her dad, who's still getting worse. It makes me want to take care of her and be there for her.

  When I finally get back to my place, I'm out as soon as my head hits the pillow.

  My alarm goes off just two hours later, and I groan when I look at the clock. I grimace, wiping the tiredness out of my eyes as I get ready for work. When you're the CEO, there's no calling out sick.

  Especially not today. I have a meeting with one of the directors on the board, and I need to show him that I'm the right choice to lead the new company.

  But I'd do it all over again. Spending time with Leah Price is completely worth it.

  "You're experienced, you're smart, and you're talented, Luke. But you come up short against Rex in one major way."

  The muscles in my face tighten, but I try not to show my concern. Lloyd Franklin and I sit across from one another at a SoHo Starbucks. The delicious scent of coffee beans wafts through the air as we sip our drinks and people bustle around us.

  Lloyd is one of the most senior members of the board. He must be pushing eighty by now, but he still smokes and drinks like a gambler. He's my closest associate on the board, the guy I always go to when I need to gauge the pulse of the company.

  "Really?" I say. "The board's seriously considering LaPrise for the job? You finally going over the hill, boss?" I shoot Lloyd a wink to let him know it's a joke, but I'm more worried than I let on.

  I know that I'm the right man for the job, and so do the people who know me, but life isn't a meritocracy. There's no guarantee the board will make the right call, and what Lloyd is telling me seriously concerns me. I'm not a shoe-in. Far from it. Not to mention what could happen if Rex leaks the dirt he has on me.

  "Listen, Luke," says Lloyd, leaning in from across the table. I mirror him, closing the distance between us. "It's simple," he says. "Rex has at least 20 years on you. He's turning 60 this year. Do you know the average age on the board of directors?"

  I chuckle. "They're all old fucking fossils like you."

  "Damn right," says Lloyd, in a croaking, froggy old-man voice. "And you know what that means?"

  I see where he's going with this. "The board likes Rex because he's like them."

  "Exactly. And they see him as stable. The safe bet. He's married, he doesn't chase tail like you, and he's old enough that raising a family is no longer a concern for him. He has all the time in the world to focus on the company You get me?"

  I sit back in my chair again. "I get you."

  "Between you and me, Luke, I trust you a hell of a lot more. But there's only so much I can do to convince the rest of the board."

  "Okay," I say, pondering, "What can I do to show them I'm the right choice?"

  Lloyd thinks. "The biggest thing is… probably…" He looks like he's re-thinking what he was about to say. "Nah. It's fucking ridiculous."

  "I'll be the judge of that," I reply. "Say it."

  Lloyd shrugs. "Get a wife."

  "A what?"

  "Don't play dumb with me."

  "I'm not playing dumb, I just don't get how that's helpful."

  "That's why I wasn't going to fucking say it."

  I snort.

  "Look," says Lloyd, "There's two fucking weeks left until this happens. My candid advice is this. Your biggest weakness in front of the selection committee is that they see you as a wild card, a player who has other priorities before business and the company. You want to seriously change that? Announce as soon as possible that you're engaged and settling down. It'll send them a powerful message that you're ready to make the necessary sacrifices."

  I think about what he's saying. I don't like it, but it makes sense. I'm in my prime and I have a playboy reputation from my earlier years. Rex is an old guy, a known variable, a constant. And a bunch of old guys on the board would much rather go for the "safe choice," even if Rex is technically less qualified than I am.

  That's exactly why Rex is threatening me with dirt from my past. It's the number one thing that could ruin me.

  I don't have a choice. I'm going to have to play their game, and I'm going to have to out-maneuver Rex when he tries to destroy my reputation.

  "So," I say, "You're telling me I need to make my move this week?"

  Lloyd nods. "Do it as soon as possible. There's no time to waste. They're not going to care that it comes out of left field. This is about political optics. It's about sending a message that you understand their concerns. If you want to show them you're the right man for the job, then find a wife. And do it fast."

  As we finish our coffees, I realize there's no way out of this. Those old codgers on the board only want to see one thing from me.

  My mind races, trying to think of who could be the right woman for the job. There are dozens of women who I know would say "yes" in a heartbeat, but there's no way I'd ever let them that close to me, even if the whole thing was fake.

  There's only one woman who comes to mind. And it's dangerous. Because with her, pretend is going to feel way too real.

  Her name is Leah Price.

  11

  Leah

  The morning after Luke stays over at my apartment, I'm floating on cloud nine and I'm too excited to work. I try to focus, but I just can't.

  So instead, I spend the day going for a run and taking care of unfinished errands. In the afternoon, I meet Aya and some of her friends for an afternoon barbecue and Ultimate Frisbee game in Central Park. We cook all-beef hot dogs with ketchup, relish, and bacon. My favorite combination.

  When you don't have a boss breathing down your neck all day, it's really easy to get distracted and waste time like I just wasted the whole day.

  It's ironic that a real-life romance is getting in the way of my romance career. But I'm determined to buckle down and prioritize work. I'll never forgive myself if I mess up this publishing deal.

  So the next morning, I get to the library in Brooklyn bright and early. But when I've finally managed to stop thinking about Luke Steele and get immersed in the world of my story, my phone dings with a new text. I have a feeling it's Luke, and when I look at the screen, my suspicion is confirmed.

  Crap. Right when I'd finally managed to get him off my mind. I argue with myself, trying to convince myself to put away my phone and not look at the text until later. But I can't help myself.

  I fish my phone out of my purse and read the message:

  Need to talk to you about a possible business deal.

  Well… That's not what I was expecting. My heart starts beating with excitement, but my stomach twists with discomfort at the same time.

  Did he decide I'm more useful to him as a business opportunity than as a dating opportunity? What kind of business deal could he possibly want with me? It's not like I'm some important business partner. I'm just a brand new, unproven author at his company.

  Maybe he's going to try to win my affection by giving me a business deal that I don't really deserve.

  Actually… the more I think about it, the more likely that seems.

  I think back to my contract negotiations with Diamond House. The editors knew I really wanted a national book signing tour for this first series, but they couldn't justify giving me one yet. Not until I'd proved myself with this first series.

  That's the only unfinished business "deal" that I have with Diamond House right now, and I can't imagine what else he'd be talking about.

  I wonder if he talked to the editors and found out how much I wanted one. Honestly, if Luke tried to give me a tour now… it'd be weird. I want to prove myself. I don't want to be cheated out of that experience and given things I don't deserve.

  I hope Luke knows me better than that by now. I decide to hope for the best.

  What is it? I text back.

  Need to discuss i
n person, comes his reply.

  When do you want to talk? I write.

  Now.

  Now. Of course, now. He always wants to do things when he wants to do them, and he doesn't seem to think twice about inconveniencing other people's schedules.

  But I can't lie. I still want to see him, even if it means playing by his rules.

  I'm at the Brooklyn Public Library, I text back.

  Be waiting for my car outside in 10.

  I click the door shut behind me. The view inside Luke's office is breathtaking. The Manhattan skyline looms outside, the buildings looking majestic and dynamic. It's a calm, rainy day, and this bird's-eye view of the city sends a shiver down my spine. I expected Luke to have a nice office, but this view is better than anything I could have ever imagined.

  Luke sits in his chair, his back to me, his feet kicked up on a railing in front of the window. Then he spins around and stands up. He does it in such a commanding way that he looks like he was born for this role. Some men just have an air about them that says, 'I'm in control.' Luke Steele is one of those men.

  "Welcome back to Diamond House," he says, stepping around his desk toward me. "Have a seat. We won't be going back up to the roof again. At least not today." He winks at me as he pulls out one of the guest chairs at his desk. I smile as I cross the room, and plant my butt in the chair like I'm told.

  A vision flashes through my mind of doing other things that I'm told. And I like it. I consider myself independent, but with Luke, I actually want him to take charge and tell me what to do.

  I think that's one of the reasons Edward wasn't the right guy for me. He tried to be a playboy with ladies, and he fooled a lot of them into sleeping with him while he was supposed to be exclusive with me. But he didn't have any real self-confidence or any ability to lead our relationship. I didn't feel like I could really trust a man like that, and well, he proved me right.

 

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