by Jessa James
No one wanted to deal with her? Hell, she was perfect as she was. Girl next door perfect and I'd been afraid I'd corrupt her. I wasn't a good guy. Hell, I'd worked my way through enough women to know what they thought of me. I was—used to be—the fuck-em and leave-em type, but I'd never offered any of them more than one night and they all knew that going in. I'd only wanted a release, a short respite where I forgot everything in their willing bodies. I hadn't promised more. Ever. Had never wanted more. Until Emma. And I wanted to give her everything.
"Then pick someone to make it worth your while. We both know who you really want.”
I heard Emma laugh, but the sound wasn’t sweet, it was sad. "Yeah, that's so not going to happen. He doesn't even know I'm alive."
Tori laughed. “Maybe you should parade around naked. He’ll notice, trust me. And I’ve heard he’s fucking fantastic in bed.”
“God, don’t tell me things like that,” Emma pleaded. “I already can’t think when I’m around him.”
“Seriously, woman. Why don’t you dress up a little? Show some cleavage. You know, seduce him?”
“Right. Me? You’ve got to be kidding. I’m about as sexy as a kindergarten teacher.” Emma sighed and I imagined her crossing her arms, knew the exact face she was probably making. “Hence the problem, Tori. Big, stupid virgin, remember? He wouldn’t waste his time with me. He doesn't seem like the virgin type. Which is one of the reasons I want to get laid tonight.”
Tonight? And who was my Emma pining for? Who the fuck was she talking about? Was Emma interested in someone? I'd never heard of her going on a date, and Ford kept pretty close tabs on everyone working for him. The office was small enough for me to find out what she was doing most of the time. Only Brad from Accounting had come sniffing around her last Thanksgiving and I'd shut him down easily enough. Who the hell was she longing for and why didn't I know about him? I was a jealous prick for wondering, but hell, I was selfish. I wanted her all to myself.
“I still think a one night stand with some guy you hook up with in a bar is a bad idea.”
Bless Tori and her sage advice. Trouble was, my Emma wasn’t listening.
"Look, Tori, it's fine. A stranger is better. If I’m terrible in bed, I’ll never have to see him again. And I want to know what it's like to have a man inside me. I want him sweaty and bossy and so fucking hard he can’t wait to fuck me. I want a real man. I want skin and kissing and a real cock, not battery-operated Bob."
My balls drew up at her words. She wanted skin? Kissing? A bossy man with a big cock?
I had a cock she could ride all damn night.
Tori laughed. "Fine, fine. You're a big girl. We'll meet tonight at Frankie’s. Seven o’clock. If you're going to have a one-night-stand, I'll at least make sure you have condoms and the guy's not a serial killer."
"Thanks, Tori!" Emma was really excited. I knew that tone and it was the same one she’d used when flowers arrived at her desk on Valentine's Day. Two dozen long stem red roses from a secret admirer. Me.
Ford had called me himself and warned me to back off. Well, I had. Promising to wait until she graduated to make my move. But her plans for tonight changed everything.
The only cock Emma was going to have inside her tonight, or any fucking night, was mine.
When two men from finance headed my way, I turned and walked back the way I had come, ducking into the men's room. I didn't want Emma to know I'd been listening and I needed a few minutes to will my cock back into submission.
Fifteen minutes later, I sat behind my desk and watched the sexiest fucking woman on the planet enter my office with the typed up reports from our morning meeting. Yeah, I could get the fucking things on email, but I liked them printed out and delivered. I was old fucking fashioned in that way, and wasn’t about to change, especially if it brought her through my office door.
Emma set the report on the corner of my desk and didn’t even look at me, which was probably a good thing, considering the way I devoured her curves with my eyes.
“It’s five, Mr. Buchanan. Unless there’s something else you need from our office, I’m going to call it a day.”
I swallowed hard. Need? Yeah, there was something else I needed, but I wasn’t going to take it here, in my office, with her skirt flipped up over her luscious ass and her head down on my desk.
At least, not yet. That would come later. When she knew who she belonged to. When her body knew it was mine.
“That's fine, Emma. Are you hitting the town with the rest of the staff for their usual Thursday night at Frankie’s Bar?” The place was upscale, expensive, and offered exotic drinks like chocolate martinis. And it was only two blocks from the office. So, yeah, the bar had been a haunt of the Buchanan staff for years.
Her cheeks turned pink and she bit her lip, but she also raised her head in surprise and met my gaze. I felt that bright, innocent stare down to my toes.
I imagined those big, round eyes sizing some stranger up at a bar. Accepting his offer to buy her a drink. Agreeing to go home with him. Taking off that tight fucking skirt and wrapping her legs around his waist.
Fuck.
I had to turn away, afraid she’d see the rage building in my head, buzzing like a hornets’ nest. No one was fucking touching her. No one but me.
After counting to ten, I looked back up.
She grinned, picking at the corner of the notepad and papers she held in front of her chest. “Yes. Everyone’s meeting there after work. How did you know about Frankie’s? I’ve never seen you there before.”
Standing slowly, I walked around the edge of my desk and stopped inches from her. More than anything, I wanted to pull her into my arms and forbid her from entering that meat market. I knew all too well just how many young, arrogant pricks would be there waiting to get their hands on a soft, curvy virgin like my Emma. They’d be dressed in their suits, hair slicked back, throwing hundred dollar bills on the bar to try to impress the ladies, trying to impress Emma.
Eyes growing wider, she watched me approach, but held her ground. That was my girl. I loved that spunk, that fucking fire. She’d never backed down, not once in all the months she’d worked for the Buchanans.
Unable to resist touching her, I lifted my hand to her shoulder in what I hoped wouldn’t come off as an asshole move. She glanced down at my hand, confused, I was sure, because I'd never touched her before, but she didn’t shrug me off.
I waited patiently for her to raise her gaze to mine. “I’ve never been invited.”
“What?” Shock clouded her eyes, but she quickly blinked it away. “How? I mean, I’m sorry. I didn’t know. I don’t…that’s not…I—”
She was so damn beautiful when she stuttered, and her obvious concern for my emotional well-being was adorable.
Leaning forward, I placed a chaste kiss on her cheek before stepping away. “Don’t worry about me, Emma.”
She gasped at the surprise contact, then bit her lip and stifled the sound. Her cheek was warm and silky soft beneath my lips. I wanted more, to find out if she was so damn soft everywhere else. And her scent…
“No,” she replied. “I think you should come. Get to know everyone better. Maybe they wouldn’t be so sc—”
Emma stopped herself just in time and I threw back my head with laughter. “Scared?”
Her blush was a deep, dark pink and I longed to trace the color all the way down her neck and under that blouse, discover if her breasts were as flushed as her face.
“I’m sorry.” She sighed. “Look, I’m not usually such a mess. I don’t normally—”
“Tell me the truth?” I cut her off.
She raised a brow, but met my gaze squarely. “I tell you the truth, but I don't tell tales.”
“That’s because you’re smart.”
It was her turn to laugh. “Apparently, not around you.” Her gaze drifted lower, to my mouth, my lips, just for a moment, but I saw it, and I knew I would have her. Soon.
I squeezed her shoulder and
reluctantly, let her go. “Go on, Emma. It’s been a helluva week. You better go before they think I trapped you here for the weekend.”
Trapped, under me. On top of me. Bent over my desk.
It was like my cock had taken over my head.
“See you next week.” Emma walked out of my office without looking back, her soft blond hair swinging over her shoulders, her curvy ass sashaying as she left me standing there alone, like a dick.
I nearly ran after her. Instead, I fisted my hands in my pockets and told my cock to fucking stand down. Nothing was happening until later.
Nothing but me convincing Emma that I was the right man for her, the only man for her.
There was no fucking way Emma was giving her virginity to some random fucker at a bar. She wanted cock? I had one she could take full advantage of. But it wasn't just one night I wanted. I wanted all her nights. I’d stayed away because she was pure, because I didn’t want to risk ruining her with my base needs. And because I knew she had plans, was just finishing her degree. I was trying to be a god-damned gentleman and wait until she was ready.
That was over. If she was ready to give her body away, she damn well was going to give it to me and no one else. I wanted Emma. Her body was mine. Her smile was mine. That luscious mouth was mine to fuck. Her virginity, mine to take. I wouldn’t share her. I couldn’t stand by and watch her give herself to some random stranger all too eager to fuck her and forget her.
She deserved better than that and I was going to make sure she got it.
Forever. Yes, Emma was going to be mine tonight. After that, she wouldn't have any doubts about who she belonged to.
But first, I had to convince her that I wasn’t playing around. I’d take her out to dinner and hold doors, that’s what I’d do. I’d seduce her, make her scream with every orgasm, fill her wet pussy with my big, hard cock. I’d send her roses every fucking day and kiss her until she couldn’t breathe. Eventually, I’d put my ring on her finger and my baby in her womb. I’d claim her every way a man could claim his woman.
I was done trying to be noble, trying to protect her from my darkness. If she was ready for more, I was going to give it to her. Me. No one else.
She was mine, she just didn’t know it yet.
Chapter Two
Emma Sanders
I adjusted the strap of my new pink bra and looked at myself in the mirror. The pink lace and satin did an amazing job hoisting up my large breasts. The line of cleavage the demi bra created was impressive. I just had to hope that the guy who I took home tonight liked boobs. Big, soft round boobs that were so sensitive to the touch that I shuddered every time I accidentally bumped into my boss's brother. Carter.
I took a deep breath, tried to calm my racing heart. Every time I thought about what I was going to do tonight, I freaked. So, yeah, maybe picking up a random guy at a bar, bringing him home and letting him pop my cherry wasn’t the smartest idea I’d ever had. But I was desperate. No one wanted to date an uptight, twenty-four year old virgin. The men I’d told thought I was super-religious and looking for an engagement ring, or cold as ice, rigid and untouchable.
I was going to fuck whatever hottie I could find at the bar. I wasn’t going to ask, or tell him I was a virgin. Hell no. That would derail the entire thing. I didn’t want him to know about my unfortunate state until his cock was buried deep and the deed done.
If he knew, he’d leave me untouched. Hot and horny and desperate to be fucked. But something about the V card scared off my would-be lovers.
I wasn't anything special. How could I be? I was still holding my V card. If I'd been sexy enough, attractive enough, hot enough, I'd have dates every weekend. But no. I couldn’t seduce a man because I’d never taken one to bed. I didn’t know how to act sexy, or to tempt a lover to my bed. Those invisible signals couples gave each other? I knew they existed, but had no clue how to participate.
If I didn't resolve this virginity problem, I'd turn into an old cat lady. A spinster cat lady with a cobweb covered vagina. When I told that guy Jim, my date to the office Christmas party, that I'd never had sex before, his mouth had fallen open and he'd been afraid to touch me. He'd said I was a unicorn.
A unicorn. No one wanted to fuck a unicorn. At least not Jim since he’d run for the door faster than I could track him.
Seemed no man wanted to deal with a virgin. It wasn’t like I was saving myself for someone special, I’d just never met a guy I wanted badly enough to spread my legs and let him take me.
Except Carter Buchanan. But he was so far out of my league, even thinking his name was a joke of epic proportions. He was a walking cliché, tall dark and handsome. His dark brown hair just reached his collar in the back and I stared at the soft waves when he wasn’t looking, imagined running my hands through his hair. His dark eyes were intense. Every time he looked at me, I felt like he could read my mind or something. Carter was sexy, successful. A freaking billionaire Buchanan, a member of the most famous, richest, hottest group of bachelors in all of Colorado. And my Ford's brother.
Sure, I worked with him and delivered reports and files to his office, but Carter Buchanan barely even knew I was alive, and it was time to stop pining for something I could never have.
Condensation still coated the mirror from my scorching hot shower. I wiped the mirror with the hand towel and touched up my lipstick before walking back into my bedroom to grab my dress.
Yeah, I was a unicorn. A horny unicorn with an itch to scratch. And it was all Carter Buchanan's fault. Sure, he was beyond reach, but he was also my fantasy.
If I had my way, I'd walk into his office, climb on his lap as he sat in his desk chair while he was on a conference call and take him for a ride. I'd have pulled his huge cock—and in my dreams it was huge—from his dress pants and impale myself on it. He'd have ripped through my stupid hymen with ruthless precision and then fucked me with an expertise that left me sated and well satisfied.
Just like the long line of women he'd had. I stepped into my little black dress as I thought of Sheila and Tamera and Evelyn, all women he'd taken to various functions and office parties. I'd been barely able to look at him as he'd placed his hand at the small of their backs. His touch never was a blatantly sexual gesture—I'd never seen him once be overtly sexual with any of them—but I wanted him to do it to me nonetheless. I'd feel the heat from his palm on my lower back and he'd guide me wherever he wanted me to go.
I wanted him with a fierceness that made me want to poke those women's eyes out with my letter opener. But I'd needed the job at Buchanan Industries to pay for my master’s program and so I kept my feelings well in check. Carter didn't know I wanted him to bend me over his desk, pull up my skirt and fuck me hard. His hand would cover my mouth so no one else could hear me coming. I didn't care about office policy. He didn't know I watched his ass every time he left Ford’s office, otherwise he'd probably report me to HR. I was just his brother’s secretary and he'd never once indicated he was the least bit interested in me. Until today.
Today, he’d touched me. Kissed my cheek. Had he been fishing for an invite to Frankie’s tonight?
“Shut up, woman. You’re losing it.” I scolded myself in the silence of my bedroom. Carter Buchanan was a billionaire. A sexy, arrogant, hard-nosed businessman. He’d never in a million years be interested in a stupid virgin like me. But if he offered, would I give it to him? Would I let him punch my V card and just be another woman in his long line of them?
Hell, yes.
As I slipped into my heels, I knew it didn't matter. I was leaving the company anyway. Sure, being Ford’s secretary was interesting, and good experience, but I hadn’t gone to school for six fucking years to answer the phone and keep a man’s schedule. No, I’d gotten the call just the day before, a position at a new company in their finance department. All mine. Three times the pay and half the overtime. My final interview with the CEO was tomorrow, but they’d already offered me the job.
In fact, I’d already given
Ford my two-weeks notice. One more week, and I was out.
No more making copies and getting coffee. I’d have my own office with an admin assistant working for me. No more Tuesday and Thursday morning meetings with Carter Buchanan. No more sitting across from him ignoring that sexy as hell cologne.
No more Carter.
I walked to the dresser and put my favorite diamond stud earrings in as I scolded myself. “It’s for the best, Emma. You can’t have him. It’s time to move on.”
No. More. Carter.
I couldn't stand to see another picture of him with a gorgeous woman on his arm. I had to give up the dream that he'd ever want me, that he thought of me as anything more than an employee. And so I was thankful for the change my new job would bring. I'd let this ridiculous obsession with Carter go and move on with my life.
Starting tonight. First, I'd find a guy who wanted a good time. In a couple weeks, I'd start my new job as a full-fledged, experienced woman and finally be free of my obsession with Carter Buchanan.
Chapter Three
Carter
I got to the bar early, sat at a stool where the lighting was dim, nursed a drink and watched Emma. She met up with Tori promptly at seven—her punctuality was borderline OCD—and had a drink. Only one, which had kept me relaxed.
They talked and scoped out the room, no doubt debating the man choices for Emma. I was content to sit and stare at her blatant curves, the bright slash of red on her full lips, the way her pale hair fell in ringlets on her neck. But when the ladies moved to the dance floor and random men joined them, I wasn't so patient. Tori looked great, as usual, her body hugged in a tight white dress that highlighted every curve. Her hair was a dark auburn, and next to Emma’s pale blond hair and tight black dress, they were toting some dangerous curves. And I wasn’t the only man in the room who noticed.
