Keeping The Virgin (The Virgin Auctions, Book Four)

by Paige North

  A flutter of appreciation wings around the inside of my belly, and I smile at him as I sit and place my phone on a chair next to me. The white curtains stir in the mild breeze as the sun turns a simmering orange, coating the water with its warmth.

  But it’s him I can’t take my eyes off of. Tall, dark, gorgeous him.

  As he slides a plate in front of me, I realize that something smells delicious, and I close my eyes and inhale.

  “Yum,” I murmur.

  When I open my eyes again, Cage is standing there and watching me as if my slight, delighted sound has turned him on. I see it in his eyes. But he’s also guarded, absolutely in control.

  This is a man who does things the way he does them. He’s a mystery I’m not going to solve in a few days, and I’m going to enjoy myself for what this is worth.

  I glance at my plate, which is full of yellow rice with olives and something like grilled bananas. “What is this?”

  Cage smoothly pours a golden wine into my waiting glass. “Cuban plantains. It’s supposed to be a family recipe from generations ago.”

  I glance up at him to see the breeze toying with his thick brown hair. As he looks back at me, his eyes pierce me, and the color is all the more intense because of his tanned skin and dark eyebrows.

  This has got to be a dream, I think as he pours wine for himself and then sits across from me. Every move he makes sends a quaver through me. It’s almost as if he’s stroking my pussy again, getting me wet and ready for what he’ll eventually be doing to me…

  Tearing myself away from yet another fantasy, I take a sip of my wine. It’s buttery and fruity.

  When I look at Cage again, he’s not eating. I think he’s getting his fill from watching how I drink, how I enjoy.

  “You’ve got good taste,” I say, putting down the glass.

  “Yes, I do. In everything.”

  Does he mean me?

  I blush yet again while I start eating, and damn, but he can cook. Is there anything he isn’t good at?

  The mere question sends a ripple of desire over my skin. He was sure good at what he did to me earlier.

  As I realize that I’m wolfing down my food, I slow my pace, offering him a whoops kind of grin. At first he wrinkles his brow, but then a smile ghosts over his lips. I don’t think he’s used to girls like me—ones who actually eat real food instead of brown rice and vegetables. Ones who don’t think chewing gum will put them over their calorie count for the day.

  I drink more wine. It’s starting to give me a happy buzz, probably because I’m not a big drinker in the first place. “Where did you learn to cook like this?”

  This one simple question must be the wrong one, because something shutters closed in his eyes. His voice is cool. “Cooking was a skill that was necessary for me to learn.”

  Okay. The man of mystery strikes again. I have to say though that every time he goes dark and glacial like this, I like it. There’s got to be something wrong with me, but there it is—I’m drawn to his inaccessibility.

  Then again, what is there about him that I’m not drawn to?

  As the sound of seagulls travel through the air in the near distance, I sneak another peek at Cage. His gaze is fixed on the ocean, as if there’s something faraway that’s consumed him. It’s because of my question, isn’t it? God, I’m not going to ask anything else. Not if it makes him unhappy. Even as inexperienced as I am, I know my job is to do the opposite.

  I study his strong profile and shift restlessly in my chair.

  Speaking of jobs… When will he fuck me?

  How?

  Where?

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see a message flash onto the screen of my silenced phone in the seat next to me, and I glance down at it. When I read the text, my entire body freezes.

  Liam:

  Got the package as expected.

  I feel the color drain from my face, and the food and wine I’ve been eating and drinking go sour in my stomach. I want to throw up, but instead, I only put down my fork and lift my napkin to my lips.

  Even though my gaze is fixed on my plate, I sense that Cage has picked up on my reaction.

  “What’s wrong?” he asks.

  “Nothing. I’m fine.”

  Look at him, Karini. Play this off like it’s nothing.

  I do my best to put on a brave face and act like everything is okay, but my pulse is racing and I can’t breathe very well.

  Shit.

  I’ve got to get through this meal, because I don’t want Cage to change his mind about taking me to New York. He doesn’t need a basket case—he wants the girl he already got a small taste of. A virgin who melts at his touch and who’ll turn him on.

  I pick up my fork and make myself eat, but nothing has a taste anymore—not after that text.

  When I lift my gaze, Cage is still watching me as if he knows something is wrong, but even though I’m battling a panic attack I smile again. All the same, my sudden paranoia doesn’t disappear.

  And neither does that text.

  Chapter 4

  After dinner, Cage shows me to my room.

  That’s right—my room. Not his.

  Not ours.

  It overlooks the big Jacuzzi that’s situated near the pool, and it has a large, red, four-poster bed and dark, opulent furniture such as a chandelier draped with strings of pearls, an ottoman, and a mahogany vanity table. A bathroom is attached, and from what I can see of it, there’s a lot of marble and fanciness there, too.

  It’s a bedroom fit for a princess, but there’s one thing it doesn’t have.

  Him.

  I thank Cage for his hospitality, but he must sense that I’m not entirely happy, because he gives me a long, questioning look.

  “I’m just wondering…” I start. But my courage runs out.

  “What, Karini?”

  It’s the sound of my name spoken by that rich, luscious voice that gets me, and I try again.

  “I’m just wondering why we won’t be sharing a room. You know, since you bought me and everything.”

  “I already told you that I’m not going to take your virginity tonight.”

  “Yes, but…”

  “But I don’t ever share my bed for a night. Not with anyone.”

  He bars his thick arms over his chest, and even though he’s still wearing those board shorts and a T-shirt, he dominates everything in that room, including me.

  “Not with any woman?” I ask.

  “I need my space.”

  There. It’s as simple as that for him, but he still makes no sense to me. Why would he buy me for some intimacy if he’s going to spend the night away from me? Unless…

  Oh.

  I think of how he always closes himself off, just as he’s doing now. He’s not only a private person, there’s something else going on with Cage Bryant, something he doesn’t want anyone to see. Maybe that darkness I sense in him means he doesn’t want commitments, even if it’s for one night in the same room.

  He assesses my response then relents, but only slightly, letting his arms fall away as if he’s no longer on an emotional red alert. Something flashes through his gaze, but his expression remains enigmatic.

  “We’ll be leaving early tomorrow morning for the flight to New York,” he says.

  I lift up my single bag. “It’s not like I’ve got a lot to pack. What time should I be ready?”

  “A car is picking us up at six A.M.”

  “Got it. I’m an early riser anyway.” And since he won’t be keeping me up late tonight, I should have no problem rising and shining.

  Then again, I have the feeling he’s going to keep me up real late with all these bewildering thoughts about him running through my mind. There’ll be a lot of tossing and turning as I fixate on those three big questions: When will he have me? How? Where?

  With an unreadable look, Cage leaves me standing in the middle of the room, and I can only hope I get some sleep.

  I also hope I won’t get another tex
t that sends me into a panic.

  Early the next morning, there’s already a contract that’s been slipped under my door. It’s a simple agreement between Cage and me, and I note that he’s had access to the Highest Bidder files that verify I have no diseases and that I’ve agreed to “relations” with a partner who’s just as physically clean. I’m on birth control, as well, so it seems everything is set.

  I sign and leave the papers for Cage to find and, over an hour later, a limo is driving us to the airport. I stifle a yawn. If Cage notices, he doesn’t let on. He’s too busy barking orders into the phone, clearly keeping the employees of his business on their toes even before regular work hours start.

  I can’t stop looking at him, because he’s wearing a dark suit today, just like he does in all those paparazzi pictures. He’s polished, with his hair tamed, with his burgundy tie knotted, with his golden cuff links gleaming.

  I enjoy looking at this version of Cage, too.

  Really like. Enough to conjure naughty thoughts of his hands in my panties again, his fingers strumming my clit…

  I make a small sound in my throat as my pussy buzzes in anticipation of the things to come. Of the me to come. But then, just as I start to get juiced for him, I remember the text I got last night, and my mind goes dark.

  I barely notice Cage disconnecting from this latest call and tapping something into his phone. Probably another call.

  “Long night?” he asks, the blue glow of the phone mixing with the dimness of the sunrise through the tinted windows.

  For a moment, the vivid color of his eyes captures me, and my heart flips in my chest. Then I realize that he isn’t talking on his phone to someone else. He asked me a question, and I shake myself out of my haze.

  “Oh. I slept great.”

  “You’re yawning. Generally, that’s a sign of a restless night.”

  There’s a hint of a wicked grin on his mouth. Is he teasing me? Well, at least as well as someone as cool as Cage Bryant can tease when he’s not trying to make me come during foreplay.

  I think he’s even seeing if I’ll admit to wanting him so badly that I couldn’t sleep at all.

  But I don’t want to admit that. “You know how it is with a bed that’s not your own. Sleeping in a foreign place feels…odd. No matter how beautiful it is or how soft the sheets are.”

  “We’ll have to make sure you’re much more comfortable tonight.”

  His suggestive tone sends a thrill through me, and he goes back to work, shutting me out.

  What a surprise.

  Soon we pass the general airport and drive to a smaller section where it seems that private aircrafts operate.

  Oh my god—are we going on his own plane?

  Of course we are and, once again, I try not to make a fool out of myself, showing just how inexperienced I am as the limo drops us off at the small terminal and we’re escorted to his private jet by a suited man on Cage’s security detail.

  After we climb the steps and enter the aircraft, I look around at the lobby or sitting room or lounge or…whatever I’m standing in. All I know is that it’s plush, with creamy white leather seats, serene colors, smooth wood, and gold trim. There’s even a big TV and a dining table attached to the wall. I don’t know what being rich smells like, but there’s a scent in the air that makes me think of palaces.

  “Wow,” I whisper.

  He surveys his own jet as if he’s never seen it before. “This belongs to Bryant Industries.”

  “In other words it’s your jet.”

  His laugh rumbles. “Yes, it is.”

  “I mean. Wow. When I flew out here for the Highest Bidder job, I’d hardly even ridden in coach before, much less first class. And this is…” I shake my head. “Heaven class.”

  He’s still got that hint of a smile as he shows me to a massive armchair and I sink into it. It even feels like smooth, silky cream.

  “Make yourself at home,” he says. “If you’re tired, there’s a bedroom in back. There’s also a conference room that you can relax in if you don’t want to hear me on business calls, and the galley is fully stocked if you want food.”

  He’d left breakfast for me this morning—Eggs Benedict and delicious fresh berries—and although he hadn’t joined me, I’d enjoyed his cooking once again. “I’m not even close to hungry, but thank you.”

  I see his own hunger start to burn in his gaze, and just as my heartbeat picks up, the crew appears. A chic flight attendant relieves me of my bag and hands me a Bellini. Cage waves off a drink as he takes a seat next to me. He still has his phone in hand, and I’m sure he’s ready to use it once we’re settled.

  I sigh, place my drink into a nearby holder, then lean back into the cushiony seat.

  “It’s good to see you relax,” he says.

  “How can I not? Bellini? A private jet? A trip to New York?”

  A gorgeous billionaire who’s indulging me?

  He doesn’t say anything for a moment, and I turn my head to face him. He’s looking deeply into me with those heart-stopping eyes, and my pulse stutters.

  “What is it?” I ask.

  “I was referring to last evening at dinner. Something upset you.”

  The text from Liam. Got the package as expected.

  All I want to do is shut that out of my mind, and there’s only one way that’s going to happen—with Cage. He’s enough to make any woman forget anything, so why think about what’s waiting for me back in the real world?

  I have heaven right here.

  “Really, it was nothing.” I lean to the side, bracing my elbow on the armrest and my head against the cushion backrest.

  My hair curls over my shoulder, and Cage reaches over to touch it. He rubs the strands between his fingers, just as he did yesterday when he tested the juices from my aroused pussy. The memory sends a strike of lust through me, and I bite my lip.

  “It didn’t look like ‘nothing,’” he says in a low tone.

  I really don’t want to think about this, and I reach up to wrap my fingers around his wrist. It’s the first time I’ve initiated anything with him, and his eyes flare with desire. Electricity seems to burn from my skin to his own.

  My breathing quickens as his fingers trail from my hair to my neck. He strokes my tender skin there with his thumb, and when I swallow, his lips part. His gaze goes hazy as it runs from my neck to my mouth…

  A female voice interrupts us. “Mr. Bryant? The captain is ready.”

  Cage’s eyes focus again, and he removes his hand from me. When he glances at the flight attendant, he’s fully in charge of himself. Of everything around him.

  I sit up in the seat and stare straight ahead, furiously blushing again. I’d almost forgotten that Cage and I aren’t alone.

  “Thank you, Janelle,” he says. “Let everyone know that we won’t require service during the flight.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  His words hang in the air between us as we prepare for take off. Even as the jet flies into the brightening sky those words don’t go anywhere.

  Why would he refuse service unless he’s going to…?

  My god, is this the when, how, and where I’ve been fantasizing about ever since he gave me a taste of what he’s going to do to me?

  I don’t know how long I sit there avoiding his gaze with the sound of the jet growling around us, the passage of blue sky rolling past the windows.

  No crew. Just us.

  And I’m pretty sure Cage hasn’t taken his eyes off me this entire time.

  I throb under his intense scrutiny. I take a sip of the peach Bellini, just for something to do.

  “You’re rather shy, aren’t you?” he murmurs.

  I put my glass back in the holder. “Me?”

  “You.”

  He begins to loosen his tie with such casual assurance that my pussy starts creaming.

  “I’m not…shy,” I whisper. “Not exactly.” The secrets I carry would blow that idea right out of the water.

 
“Whatever you are, Karini, I want you to bring it to me.” His command echoes through the lounge. “Come over here. Now.”

  His urgency startles me, but in a good way, a way that gives my pulse a twist. I heat up as I see the same fire in his eyes that I saw yesterday.

  It’s happening. He’s going to make me come again, and I already know the when and the where of that fact.

  It’s just a matter of how…and how hard.

  Chapter 5

  Cage tosses his tie to a nearby sofa, his blue gaze drilling into me until I quiver. I want to go to him as he instructed me to, but I’m holding myself back.

  Is anxiety racing through me because I’m afraid we’ll get caught by the crew? Is my excitement and fear also about what he intends to do to me?

  Or maybe I’m hesitant because I tried to be a bad girl once before, and it didn’t turn out so well.

  I knew what I was getting into with the Highest Bidder, but now that the moment has come when I’m expected to be naughty again, I’m hesitating. Can I do this after all?

  As his gaze pulls at me, I don’t think I have a choice. No matter how hard I try to stay back from Cage, the more useless it is.

  I slide off my chair and come to my unsteady feet. I tug down the hem of my short summer dress as the floor of the jet hums beneath me.

  “Closer,” he says. “Let me unwrap you like a sweet little gift.”

  Oh.

  “And what about your employees?” I ask on a whisper. “What if they walk in?”

  “They won’t, because they always listen to my directions. So should you.”

  I believe him, and it’s such a relief that I won’t get exposed during this intimate moment…

  Even so, I’m frightened and exhilarated enough so that it feels as if a bullet is ricocheting through my chest. Everywhere it pings it leaves a shock of stimulating pain that melts downward, coating my belly, then easing between my thighs with erotic warmth.

  I inch even closer to him until the front of my legs press against his. The contact primes me, soaking my pussy, my clit hammering.

  Cage gestures at one of my sandaled feet, then brings his sexy blue gaze back up to mine. When he crooks his finger, I know he means for me to lift my leg so that my foot rests on the chair.