The Virgin Gift

by Lauren Blakely

  I took a beat, my laughter fading. “I didn’t expect this to happen. I wasn’t looking for it. But I had this strange sort of moment.”

  “What happened?” he asked, leaning against the kitchen counter, curiosity in his eyes.

  I told him about the flight attendant and he nodded, listening thoughtfully. “And that’s what you needed, that sort of permission almost? To move on? Like a final step?”

  “Yeah, I think so,” I said, wrapping my head around this morning, understanding it fully now. I tapped my sternum. “I mean, who knows what tomorrow will bring, but I feel this lightness in my chest I haven’t felt in ages.”

  “Maybe sometimes all we need are those chance encounters that help us see what we’ve been missing,” he mused.

  “Maybe so,” I said, and this was why Adam and I had stayed friends over the years. We could shoot the breeze, talk about business, and dive deep when we needed to. “But enough about me. How can I thank you for letting me crash here?”

  A slow grin took over his face, and he ran a hand over his jaw. “Well, there is this one thing.”

  23

  Nina

  The shoot lasted all day, thanks to Vegas traffic.

  There were no two ways about it. On convention days, you needed to charter a hot-air balloon to make it anywhere on the Strip in under an hour.

  Unfortunately, I didn’t have those kinds of funds.

  But I did have fabulous clients, and Chantal—for all her idiosyncrasies and her bed of coins—was one of them.

  Because she knew what she wanted. A true lady boss, the olive-skinned beauty laid down the law.

  “First, I want a shot of me in the elevator, lost in thought, wearing my little red dress.”

  Done.

  “Then, I want you to capture me walking down the hallway to the hotel room.”

  Check.

  “And then, you go into the room and take pictures of me entering the suite, like I’m getting ready for him.”

  Finished.

  “And finally, I want all the seductive shots of me on the bed.”

  And that was where I was now, taking her picture as she posed in a sea of coins, like she owned this moment.

  “I’d love it if you could run a hand through your hair with your head falling back,” I told her from behind the lens.

  “Like this?”

  “Nailed it,” I said, then took those shots.

  When I showed her the preview on the back of my camera, she hummed over each and every image. “These are divine. My husband will love them.”

  “No doubt he’ll be enthralled.”

  “I hope he gets the meaning too,” she said, a little quirk in her lips. “But I know he will.”

  “I would love to know the story behind these photos. Will you tell me?”

  “We met in Vegas years ago. Here in this hotel. A one-night stand that turned into forever. I want him to see these and know I still want him as much as I did that night when he won one thousand dollars at the slots and took me back to his suite.”

  “You’re the true riches,” I said, understanding fully. I learned so much from my clients. Every one, it seemed, had something to impart about femininity, sexuality, or confidence. I had the best job in the world. “And I love that you’re showing him through photos. That you’re communicating your passion through images.”

  And she gave me an idea.

  At Lily’s home, I pawed through her closet, hunting for a simple dress. She lived closer to the Strip than I did, and I didn’t want to rush back home to change and shower before we met the guys at The Luxe.

  “Ooh! Go for the purple one. You always look good in purple,” Kate said from her spot on the bed, nursing a glass of red wine.

  “I do love purple, though this one looks a bit skintight,” I said with a wink. “Do you only own dresses that require shoehorns to fit into?”

  “Hey! I have some that aren’t.”

  Kate snorted. “Maybe one.”

  Lily simply shrugged and raised her wine glass to her lips, taking a sip. “I enjoy those dresses.”

  “And Finn does too,” Kate chimed in as I sorted through more clothes, stopping at a fuchsia dress with a neckline that dipped to the belly button, leaving little to the imagination.

  I held it up. “Trivia question. This little number was on Lily for how much time before Finn ripped it off?”

  Kate thrust her hand in the air. “Five minutes!”

  Lily mimed hitting a buzzer. “Oh, so sorry. We’re going to need you to phrase that in the form of a question.”

  “What is five minutes, Alex?” she asked, as if Lily were the Jeopardy! host.

  In a pitch-perfect imitation of the man, Lily replied, “No. The correct answer is What is five seconds?”

  I bowed before her. “Impressive. But it does raise the question—why do you ever wear clothes with him?”

  “Yes. I’d like to know that too,” Kate put in, kicking her leg back and forth.

  “I often ask myself that as well,” Lily said, then her eyes snapped to her closet. “How about the green one? All the way in the back. I actually haven’t worn it yet.”

  I raised a brow. “A virgin dress.”

  Kate cleared her throat. “And I believe that raises another question . . .”

  “Is the virgin dress for a virgin?” Lily asked.

  I reached for the emerald number, slid it off the hanger, then turned around. “No, it’s not for a virgin. It’s for me.”

  The squeals could split eardrums.

  “You’ve been holding that in for the entire time you’ve been here,” Lily said, then smacked my shoulder. “Shame on you.”

  “Tell us everything,” Kate said, patting the bed and taking another drink.

  I sat, but I didn’t tell them everything. I told them hardly anything. I was still a private woman with private fantasies. I would keep most of them to myself, and my partner.

  And I hoped that partner would always be Adam.

  “And it was incredible,” I said, finishing the SparkNotes version. “So incredible that you were right, Lily. When you told me to be careful.”

  “Oh, sweetheart. Are you okay?” she asked, placing a hand on my arm.

  “I’m fine. I’m great actually. But I wasn’t careful with my heart, though I think that might be for the best. I have a plan. I was listening to another episode of the podcast this morning—”

  Kate sat up straighter, her eyes gleaming. “I started listening to that too. Serena is great. That’s her real name. She has a fascinating background and personal story. She brings so much of herself to the show,” she said, enthused as she shared more details on the hostess who’d been my guide through intimacy. “But enough about her. What has she inspired you to do tonight in that emerald dress?”

  Something even more daring than the other items on my list.

  Something that would require both my body and my heart.

  And a whole dose of crazy confidence.

  24

  Adam

  The music pulsed low at Edge, our crew’s favorite club in the heart of The Luxe Hotel.

  Brandon and I were the first to arrive, and we snagged a spot on a velvet couch that the ladies loved. With scotches in hand, we talked about his favorite neighborhoods in Paris, then the best new restaurants in Vegas, before we segued to interesting stories in the news and the world. Books, politics, work, life—we touched on all of it, and more when Jake and Finn joined us.

  Jake covered drinks as he’d promised to do, and we toasted when the waiter brought a fresh round.

  “To new business,” Jake said, then tipped his forehead to me. “And to doing business with friends. May it always go so well.”

  I clinked my glass to his. “And even though you always give me shit, there’s no one I’d rather have inking my deals.”

  Finn cleared his throat, chiming in, “So proud of my protégé. I taught Jake well.”

  Jake laughed, shooting Finn a l
ook. “Yeah, I’m your business partner, asshole. Not your protégé.”

  “Details. Details,” Finn joked, then dropped the teasing. “Best damn business partner ever. And friend.”

  Brandon raised his glass. “And let’s drink to old friends.”

  “Hear, hear,” I said.

  We all toasted to that once more. Finn and Jake had been good friends for years, like Brandon and me. And good friends were the guys you could ask to do anything, as I’d done with Brandon earlier.

  A few minutes later, the ladies arrived. Lily strode in first, and Finn stared hungrily at his wife.

  Kate followed Lily, and Jake gazed at the tall, willowy brunette like he wanted to tear off her clothes. Nina appeared next, and when my eyes landed on her, my heart hammered against my chest.

  This woman had turned my mind upside down in forty-eight hours. The night I’d found her list, I’d still been stalled in my Rose-induced time-out. I was Mr. Thanks But No Thanks when it came to trust. I didn’t want to take a chance with anyone who could stab me in the back.

  But then Nina showed me what trust truly was. By opening her innermost thoughts and deepest fantasies to me, and only me. By letting me be her guide through her wild, dirty dreams.

  I’d thought I was the teacher, showing her how to have all her filthy fantasies.

  Turned out, she’d been teaching me all along.

  How to trust again.

  How to fall again.

  How to open my heart to the woman who was meant to be mine.

  Vulnerability.

  Intimacy.

  Love.

  I’d never seen that trio coming, but as Nina walked toward me, exquisitely sensual in an emerald dress that hugged her curves, I saw all that and more.

  I saw everything in her.

  Before she could reach us, I rose, walking past the other patrons, my eyes only on her. When she was inches from me, I held her face. “You,” I whispered, then I kissed her lips, tasting forever on them.

  I’d intended to ask her for number eleven.

  I had it all mapped out. How I’d tell her, how I’d let her know she’d stolen my heart.

  But when you’re kissing the woman you’ve fallen madly in love with, you don’t always want to wait for the perfect time to tell her.

  Not when she’d roped her arms around my neck as she gave her mouth to me, asking with her body to be kissed fiercely, passionately.

  And with ownership.

  That was what my Nina had wanted from a man.

  That was what she wanted from this man.

  To be taken.

  And hell, was I ever taken with her. So damn taken that when I broke the kiss, I couldn’t wait. “I’d like to think that kiss made it clear, but I’ve learned from you that words matter. That spelling out wishes and wants is so damn important.” I took a beat and gazed into her deep brown eyes as I clasped my gorgeous woman’s face. “So let me say this—I broke the rules of engagement.”

  A grin played across her pink lips, and she whispered, “Me too.”

  That emboldened me, but then, I was already feeling bold tonight. “I broke the most important one of all.”

  “You did?” Her voice was a little flirty, but full of so much hope—a hope I felt deep in my soul.

  “I broke it, and I don’t want to fix it because I don’t want to go back to friendship with you.”

  “I don’t either.”

  “I want to have everything with you. I want to be your man, your lover, your person, and your friend at the end of the day.”

  She trembled, her voice hitching. “I want all of that too.”

  I ran my thumb across her cheek. “And in case it wasn’t clear, I am wildly, madly, deeply in love with you.”

  “Oh, Adam, I’m so in love with you.” One lone tear slid down her face, but before I could kiss it away, she brushed her lips with mine in a soft, tender kiss.

  A kiss only she could give me.

  And in it, I felt her ownership.

  Of my heart and my soul and my whole damn mind.

  It was everything I couldn’t live without.

  When she broke the kiss, my head was hazy, and my mind was racing to where I wanted to go, to what I wanted to say.

  But she beat me to it, surprising the hell out of me when she said, “But there’s one more thing on my list. I want number eleven.”

  I’d never left a place so fast in my life.

  25

  Nina

  This wasn’t how I’d planned it.

  My goal was to show him how I felt.

  But he’d beat me to it.

  And I was good with that, so good. I didn’t know how long I’d be able to keep the words inside me anyway. They’d been bubbling up in me all day long, then tangoing on my tongue the second I’d walked into the club.

  Saying them at last was both relief and freedom.

  And I hoped the rest of the night would be too.

  When we reached my place, I told him I needed a few minutes to get ready.

  “Take your time,” he said.

  “You probably want a glass of champagne though,” Brandon added, since we weren’t alone. He was with us, and he waved in the direction of Adam’s condo. “I picked up a bottle for you two lovebirds earlier today. I’ll go get it.”

  When he left, Adam followed me into the bedroom, moving behind me when I reached the bureau, kissing the back of my neck. “You good with this? With him being here?”

  I turned around so he could see the truth in my eyes. “Yes. I’ve wanted this so badly. I started to write it on my first list, but wasn’t sure if I could go through with it.”

  “What changed your mind? I have to confess, I saw it there this morning, but I love that you asked for it this time.”

  And this time, I wasn’t bothered that he’d looked at my list again. He was the list, and the list was us. It was ours. “What changed is when I started to fall for you. That’s when I wanted it even more.”

  He banded his arm around my waist, pulling me closer. “You know I never want another man to touch you.”

  “I know that,” I said with a naughty smile. “And I don’t want anyone’s hands on me but yours. That’s why I want the camera to capture us. I want to see how we look together. I want to be on the other side of the lens,” I said, my breath catching in my throat as I gave voice once more to my newest, most erotic wish. “I want to be seen as a woman in love and in lust. I need to know what that looks like when we’re in bed. And I want it with you and only you.”

  He groaned, his eyes sliding shut as he yanked me close and kissed me.

  Then he left the room, letting me undress and dress again alone.

  I could have asked one of my boudoir photographer colleagues. But I hadn’t realized till this morning that I was ready to show Adam through photos how I felt for him. And I didn’t know how Adam would react.

  But Adam was ready too.

  He’d already asked Brandon to be behind the camera.

  He trusted Brandon, and therefore I did too. Besides, we’d be using all my equipment. Brandon would have nothing to take away from the session but memories. I’d keep the photos.

  I didn’t want to shoot them myself, because I didn’t want to break the mood to set up the pictures. I wanted to be captured in the act, to see how I looked in the throes of passion, to see in myself what I’d been imagining in my clients for so long.

  I touched up my hair and makeup, dressed in white panties and a matching bra, and grabbed a glass of champagne from the kitchen counter. I took a drink and headed to my studio to make sure my camera was ready.

  I set down the glass on a table in the corner.

  Then I posed.

  On the edge of the bed in my studio, my body sliding off the mattress, my back and shoulders on the covers, my head to the side, away from the door.

  One arm slid down my body, settling on top of my panties. The other was in my hair.

  I could hear my heartbeat
in the quiet. It pounded in my ears, a drumbeat of desire and want.

  A few seconds later, the door opened.

  “Hi there.” It was Brandon, his boots clicking across the hardwood floors.

  “Hi,” I said, but I didn’t break the pose.

  “He’s not going to know what hit him, Nina. With you like that.”

  I smiled at the compliment. It wasn’t sexual. It was professional, from one person who worked behind a camera to another.

  And it came, too, from someone who knew Adam well.

  “Thank you. And I want to see how that looks.”

  “He’s so crazy for you,” Brandon added, and from the sounds, I could tell he was behind the camera, probably peering through the lens. “I hope this gives you everything you want.”

  I was sure it would, especially once Adam entered the room. He drew a sharp intake of breath. He came to me, kneeled on the soft white rug at the foot of the bed, and brushed my hair from my cheek.

  Click.

  “Hey, sweet girl,” he said, a tender whisper.

  “Hi, Adam.”

  Then the scene began.

  I moved up on the bed, sliding seductively along the covers. Wearing only black boxer briefs, Adam followed, stalking me on his hands and knees, like an animal hunting for his meal.

  I was easy prey, and we liked it that way.

  We didn’t pose like my clients did. I didn’t want staged photos. And I didn’t want only the before.

  I wanted it all, and I wanted it real.

  That was how Adam gave it to me. He was completely raw and real as he covered me with his body, raising my arms above my head. “Hold onto the headboard, dirty girl.”

  Click.

  I did as he asked, my body burning hotter as he used that name for me.

  That was who I wanted to be for him right now—his, and only his, dirty girl.

  Then he shifted to my side, the camera seeing my whole body as he moved down me, kissing the hollow of my throat, my shoulders, the tops of my breasts. I moaned, arching against him, as he unsnapped my bra.