Virgin for Sale (Yummy Virgins Book 1)

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Virgin for Sale (Yummy Virgins Book 1) Page 5

by Sam Crescent


  “Let’s start with you making me coffee. Black, no sugar, and I’ll get you set up for what you’re doing today.”

  “Where’s the coffee machine?”

  “In the corner. I’m sure you can find it.”

  I hate this but head over to the coffee station. I see a cup that has the word BOSS printed right on it. Grabbing the cup, I stand at the coffee machine, pouring out a cup full of dark liquid. It doesn’t smell nice to begin with.

  With his coffee in hand, I make my way back to his office.

  “Close the door,” he says.

  What should I do?

  What can I do?

  I mean, I’ve got to close the door, locking me inside a room with him.

  Biting my lip to keep myself from ruining this opportunity, I put the coffee on the desk and stand, waiting.

  “Take a seat.”

  Pushing my skirt beneath me, I sit on the chair opposite him.

  Keeping my legs closed, I watch him. He’s looking through the files Emily sent up. One of his hands goes to his head, and he rubs a spot. His dark hair looks a little longer than I remember.

  He’s not had it cut, and it makes me want to run my fingers through the thick locks. This is bad news. Fantasizing about the boss is a huge no-no.

  Sitting back, I wait to see what he wants. His office is huge. His desk is in front of a large window that spills light into the room. Some of the blinds are partially down, but for the most part, the view of the city is stunning.

  On the left-hand side of his office is a sofa with a large coffee table. It looks comfortable, cozy. He clearly spends a lot of time here.

  On the right-hand side, the wall is covered with books. I can’t make out any of the titles, but that’s okay.

  Clasping my hands together, I return my attention to him.

  He’s been watching me.

  “You have a nice office,” I say. What else am I supposed to say? This is so confusing. I wish Malcolm had warned me about this. He’d assured all of us that we wouldn’t have to meet the men who paid for us.

  One night.

  No consequences.

  Clearly, he hadn’t thought about what would happen when one of us went for a job, and why should he? My service to him, and his to me, was over.

  Tucking some hair behind my ears, I wait for instructions.

  “I don’t like that you cut your hair.”

  I cut it so I wouldn’t be reminded of all the times he’d gripped my hair as he rode my body. Instead of saying that, I wait patiently for whatever else he’s going to say.

  “You were in the process of gaining your business degree?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would you go back to college if you could?”

  I think about Kerry and know it’s not an option for me.

  “It’s not something I’m looking to continue. I need to work, and not everyone needs a degree to make a career.”

  “You have no plans to start a family?”

  “None.”

  “Any boyfriend waiting for you at home?”

  Is it relevant to know this? It seems a little personal to me.

  Shaking my head, I look down at my clenched hands. This is all so embarrassing.

  “No?”

  “No.”

  “Are you dating?” he asks.

  “Why is this relevant?”

  “It’s not.”

  “Then why ask it?”

  “Because I want to know, seeing as you walked out on me.”

  Staring at him, what do I say? “Our time was up.”

  “Really?”

  “Yes. You were asleep.”

  “So, you sneaked out of bed so you didn’t have to face me in the morning. Were you worried that I’d want to know your name?”

  “It wasn’t part of the agreement,” I say. “None of it was. One night, and in the morning we could go our separate ways. That’s what I did. Why do you keep bringing this up?”

  He stares at me for the longest time.

  I feel torn open.

  The past year has felt more like a nightmare than I want to realize. Everything had changed, and all that remains is a state of fear.

  I’ve been afraid for so long. Even that night I gave myself to him, I was scared, but the moment he touched me, everything became so very clear. Since we parted, life has been going on. One day into another, waiting for something to happen.

  Yesterday in the elevator, it was like I finally woke up.

  “I need you to make some notes for me on a couple of phone calls I’m about to make. Be clear, as that will decide what you do next.”

  For the next hour, I listen to him as he talks business. I watch as he paces the office holding a tennis ball, which he throws up in the air and catches with precision. He doesn’t miss any catches. All the time, I make notes. When he nods in my direction, I make sure to write it down so that nothing is wrong.

  Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the conversation ceases. My next orders are to return the files back to Emily, to get him some coffee, and to hurry up.

  Each of his demands always includes for me to hurry up. To not take my time. To keep moving.

  The day is long and hard. By the time it nears five o’clock, I’m exhausted. I’ll need to leave soon to be ready to collect Kerry. I have to use public transportation, and it’s never reliable. Besides that, I’m hoping for any excuse to leave.

  My sister, however, has a meeting with the counselor. Her session will run until eight. The doctor she spoke to was happy to accommodate her need for privacy. She doesn’t like going places during the day.

  By seven o’clock, I have to leave.

  No one else is on the floor, but Chase is still working.

  Nerves flood me as I walked up to the door. I knocked lightly so as not to disturb him even though I want his attention.

  He’s pulled the blinds closed, and his office is now in darkness apart from a singular lamp on his desk.

  “Sir, I was wondering if I could leave.” I’ve been toying with what to call him all day. Sir, Mr. Dunce, asshole—the list is endless. “Sir” seems more respectful to me, or at least I thought it did.

  He lifts up his head.

  For several seconds he doesn’t say a word.

  I watch as he stands up and walks around the front of his desk. He keeps on looking at me.

  “Come here.”

  It was very much the same instruction he gave me in that room.

  Stepping into his office, I stand a few feet away from him.

  “Closer.”

  Going right up to him, I gasp as he grips the back of my neck, drawing my body close to him.

  I’m flush against him, his cock pressing against my hip. He’s rock-hard, and there’s no denying what he wants. He wants me.

  When he slams his lips down on mine, I moan. Gripping the lapels of his jacket, I hold on as his kiss turns hard, almost violent as he nips at my lips. That kiss has the power to destroy me.

  Moisture floods my panties as my arousal grows. I want him.

  I don’t want him to stop.

  He keeps hold of my neck as his other hand holds the cheek of my ass. The last time we were together, he left bruises on my flesh. Each time I looked in the mirror, the marks were a sign of what we did together.

  As he takes the kiss, I run my hands up his chest to wrap around his neck. This shouldn’t be happening.

  We’re not back in that room.

  We’re alone in his office.

  He breaks from the kiss, his lips trailing down my neck.

  “I bet you’re wet for me right now, aren’t you? So horny, so ready to be fucked. Have you had any men since me?”

  “No.”

  “So that tight cunt is still new at taking a cock.”

  I whimper. “This is wrong.”

  “It’s only wrong if you don’t want it.”

  “It’s against company policy.” I don’t know how I can be thinking about company policy
right now, but yay to me for remembering.

  He chuckled. “I’m the boss. I can write any rule I want to suit my needs. This is why I’m going to keep bringing it up. You want me, Faye. Your nipples are so fucking hard right now, I bet they’d be so beautiful if I take them in my mouth.”

  Just when he leans down, my cell phone lets off an alarm to remind me I need to pick up Kerry.

  I want this. That’s what makes it so bad. I want him and his mouth even if it could cost me my job.

  “I’ve got to go pick up my sister.”

  “Where is she this late?”

  “She has an appointment.” My sister’s business is her own private affair. There’s no way I’m talking about it with him.

  “Lucky for you, I’m more than happy to help. Let’s go pick her up.”

  He isn’t going to take no for an answer, and with that kiss, I’d wasted time. I need a ride. I only hope Kerry won’t freak out.

  Chapter Eight

  Chase

  I have the worst case of blue balls I’ve ever had. This woman, she’s like a fucking addiction. The best kind of whiskey that money could buy. She sits in the passenger seat, looking like I’m going to ravish her any minute.

  She isn’t far wrong. If her cell phone hadn’t interrupted, those tits would have been on full display for my lips. Six months away from her was too fucking long. If she thinks I am going to back down from this, she’s in for a rude awakening.

  Parking outside the building that specializes in counseling for minors, I keep the car running. It is clear to me Faye doesn’t want to talk about her sister, so I’ve not pushed the issue. Why push something like that? She’ll tell me when she’s ready; I’m not going to do that kind of shit.

  Watching her all day was hard. All I wanted to do was fuck her, to take her. To find out everything about her. To know what makes her tick. She rarely smiles. I notice she is always helpful. She not only made me a cup of coffee, but coffee for the entire floor.

  I noticed a couple of men watching her. I’ll keep an eye on them. They are married, but a ring doesn’t count for anything nowadays.

  Kerry is the complete opposite of Faye.

  She has blonde hair, which is pulled up on top of her head. She wears large clothing that is twice her size.

  “If you want to walk, I don’t mind.”

  “Faye, it’s late. I don’t mind getting a ride home. He’s your boss?”

  “Yes.”

  “Cool.”

  “It’s not like that.”

  “I didn’t think it was like anything.”

  Faye opens the car door, and Kerry slides inside. She stays huddled in the corner of the car but gives her sister enough room to close the door.

  “Hey.”

  “Pleasure to meet you.”

  She gives me a nod and puts her earphones in.

  No music sounds, and I wonder if she’s even listening to anything.

  Faye climbs inside and tells me her address.

  Again, I don’t say anything.

  Silence fills the car.

  “I’m hungry,” Kerry says. Her voice is small as it carries from the back of the car.

  “I can pull over for some takeout. There’s plenty of drive-thru places if you don’t want to eat inside.” Anything to keep Faye near me longer.

  “I’m covered. I made dinner.”

  “You did meatballs in the crockpot?” Kerry asks.

  “Yes.”

  “Awesome. Are you inviting your boss in?”

  I see her clench her hand into a fist, and I smirk.

  “I’m sure he’s busy.”

  “I happen to love meatballs.” It’s not a lie. I’ve not had them in a long time. Meatballs are not exactly on the restaurant menu.

  “Would you like to have dinner with us?”

  “Sure.”

  Any excuse to prolong my time with her as far as I’m concerned.

  “How was school?” Faye asks.

  “Good. We’re learning about boring English. Like I care what some dumbasses have in books.”

  Faye rubs at her head, looking sad. “You used to love school before.”

  “Yeah, well, things change. I’m listening to music now.”

  I know what is going on.

  I know everything, and yet I have to remain silent or give away the fact I know.

  Faye doesn’t say anything for the entire drive back to the apartment. There is always a space near her place, and I park in it once again. Kerry doesn’t linger. She rushes across the street.

  The seemingly happy girl I saw last night is long gone.

  Faye rushes to follow her, and I keep up with her strides. It’s clear there is more to this woman. She still makes sure the door is closed and doesn’t take the elevator. Walking upstairs, she pauses outside her apartment.

  “You don’t have to come inside if you don’t want to. Kerry won’t eat with me.”

  “How come?”

  “She’s in one of her moods, which means she’ll be listening to her music. She’ll eat food, just in her bedroom.”

  “I’ve still got to eat.”

  She nods, letting us both in her apartment. Again, I notice how she locks the door. There were six that I counted, each with a heavy bolt.

  The apartment’s small.

  It’s in a nice part of town, so she clearly went without extra space to be here.

  There is already an amazing smell filling the apartment. I walk with her to the kitchen. There’s a small table that would only fit two people. Probably a good thing Kerry won’t be eating with us.

  “Take a seat. Do you want some tea, coffee, water?”

  “I’ll take a water.”

  She pours me a glass before I watch her go to the fridge. She pulls out a bowl, and I see the pasta is already pre-cooked. She has a small microwave, which she places the pasta in. She pushes a couple of buttons, and I don’t see what she’s doing as she manipulates the slow cooker with the bubbling meatballs.

  Watching her though, fills me with a sense of calm and promise. She looks so right and sexy. Each time she bends down, I see the ridge of her thong. If I’d known she was wearing them, I wouldn’t have been able to show any kind of restraint. I want her.

  So much.

  My cock has already started to harden.

  Down, boy.

  Neither of us speaks, and it’s not awkward either.

  The microwave beeps, and she’s mixing the contents of one container into the other. With three plates in front of her, she serves up.

  She looks tired, and I feel a little guilty that I caused that. I’d been sending her all over the building today without a thought. I like watching her walk. No support from a bra would ever stop those beauties from bouncing. Her ass is a temptation. I want it beneath me as I drive inside her. To cup the fleshy mounds and hear her moan once again.

  The moment I slid inside her silken cunt, I should have known there was no way I’d be able to just have one taste.

  This woman is like a fine wine, to be cherished, desired, and to have time taken with her.

  Kerry appears the moment dinner is served and gives an excuse of needing to complete homework.

  We’re alone again, and I’m more than happy about it. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for helping the next generation and all, but Faye and I, we’ve got unfinished business.

  She holds two plates in her hands as she comes toward the table. She puts one in front of me and then the other opposite before handing me a fork.

  Taking it, I scoop up a meatball and have a taste.

  The meat is tender and juicy, and full of flavor.

  Faye’s swirling her food around the bowl, every now and then taking a bite.

  I don’t like that she’s not eating.

  “You’ve got to eat.”

  “I am.” Her voice is so soft.

  “You’ve got to eat more.” I wait a few seconds to see if she’s even heard me. She doesn’t eat more, and it annoys me. I
don’t want her to be sick. “Now.”

  “You’re not the boss of me here or anywhere else.”

  “I’m the boss of you at work, and I need to make sure my staff is taking care of themselves.”

  “I know how to take care of myself.”

  “Do you? Really? From where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re having a pity party.”

  “Don’t even think for a second you understand what is going on here. You don’t have a clue. You shouldn’t even be here.”

  “Why?”

  “It was one night. That was all it was supposed to be.”

  “Well, guess what, sweetheart? That’s not all it’s going to be either.” I have another bite and watch her.

  “Why are you doing this?”

  “Why am I what?” I play along. She doesn’t think I know what is going on here, but I do. I know so much, and if she even had a clue the extent of the background check I had on her, she’s probably freak out.

  Nope, there’s no probably about it.

  She would completely freak out.

  And I would get it.

  “Why are you making this so complicated? You got what you wanted.”

  Sitting back in my chair, I watch her. She thinks I got what I wanted. Not a chance. Not even close.

  “You’ve no idea what I’ve got. Now, eat your food. You’ll be no good to Kerry half-starved. Now, eat.” We stare at each other, and she doesn’t make a move to put a single bite in her mouth. “Do you want me to come over there, put you over my knee? I can if it’ll get you to do what I want.” I’m not really into BDSM, but just to have her curvy body over my lap with my hand on her bottom, I’m more than happy to oblige.

  She glares at me, but starts to eat more food.

  Good to know.

  She doesn’t like the thought of being spanked.

  Finishing my own food, I watch her.

  I don’t like seeing her this way.

  Completely withdrawn.

  This isn’t why I came to her home.

  Of course, I have my reasons for coming here and not all of them are in order to help her. First, I want this barrier that has been erected between us to come down. Second, I want her to trust me. I’m not going to run off and shout from the rooftops that she’s struggling. She’s twenty years old, dealing with a sister that is clearly in a bad place. I get it. She needs help.

 

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