by Kendall Ryan
It felt like I lost the one person who really cared. And though I tried to move on, I still found myself getting jealous of the girls he fucked one after the other. Even on the days when I hated him, I wished that he would see me as a woman, not some annoying little kid. I couldn’t help my teenage fantasies: Hudson pressing me into my bed, a cocky smile on those full lips as he drove into me with deep, powerful thrusts.
“Now that you’ve landed your dream job, what’s next?” my brother asks, pulling me back into the present. He's grinning at me and I can practically feel the pride radiating from him. It makes me sit up a little taller in my seat.
It took me a few months to find my perfect job after I graduated from college last spring. Now I finally feel like I'm on the right path—and it's inspired some changes in my personal life, too.
“Funny you should ask.” I place my elbows on the table, leaning forward like I’m about to let them in on a big secret. And maybe I am. “I’ve signed up on one of those online dating sites. I figure it’s time to take life by the balls.” I hiccup. “Excuse me. And now that I’m on the career path I’ve always dreamed of, my next step is to land a great guy, too.” I've never really dated before, and I'm more than ready to get out there and start meeting people. More importantly, it's high time I lose my virginity. I've begun to feel like it’s hanging over my head, following me around like a black cloud.
Well, that ends now. Because as pathetic as it was to graduate from high school still a virgin, lusting after something I could never have, it's ten thousand times worse to graduate from college still in the same stupid predicament. The main reason I’m still a virgin is because I held out hope for Hudson being my first, but I know it'll never happen. I need to finally let that dream die. This is the year that Gracie Oliver grows up. I’m nervous about it, but excited, too—it’s just another way I’m taking charge of my life.
My brother’s face falls, a deep line appearing between his brows. I look over to Hudson to back me up. But he growls out an expletive and his expression looks like I’ve just kicked his puppy.
Geez. What the fuck?
“For all those brains you have, that’s a terrible fucking idea,” Hayden groans. “You could meet a psycho serial killer, get dismembered and left in some dude’s basement.”
I glare at my idiot brother. “Women join online dating sites every day. It’s not that risky, Hayden.”
My gaze cuts over to Hudson again to see what his argument might be. He’s tight-lipped and quiet, the clench of his ticking jaw his only movement.
“I just think you should concentrate on your career, Gracie. I don’t want you to lose focus. I don’t think dating is the best idea right now.”
His tone is full of genuine concern, but I don't have the patience for his overprotective bullshit right now. Wasn't he just gushing about how proud he was of me for landing a job? I can pay my own rent, but not find my own boyfriend? “Hayden, you’ve never thought dating was a good idea,” I snap. “That’s why I’m a pathetic twenty-two-year-old virgin who’s only just moved out of Mom and Dad’s. It’s time I grow up.”
“That doesn't mean running out and doing something stupid.”
Okay, fuck this. I'm not going to sit here and let him talk down to me like a little kid. Knowing that I’m fighting a losing battle, I slap down some money on the table and stand up, shaking with anger in my heels. “Goodnight,” I mutter, grabbing my purse and storming from the table.
I exit the club and stop on the sidewalk. I consider taking a cab, then decide that a brisk walk home is exactly what I need to clear my head instead. Besides, my apartment isn't so far.
I tip my head back and look straight up at the darkening sky. God, the two of them together are the most macho, bull-headed assholes. Hayden takes the big-brother thing to the extreme, he always has. And Hudson used to be sweet, but these last few years, he’s turned into a monster prick. He all but ignores me, and then when I suggest dating, he freaks out just as bad as Hayden.
Well, I'm not going to let them stop me. It’s time I kicked off my white cotton briefs and had some fun.
“Gracie, wait,” Hudson calls from somewhere behind me.
I turn around and stare into the most beautiful honey-colored eyes I’ve ever seen.
Chapter Three
Gracie
I still can’t believe I’m sitting here with Hudson Stone. In my little apartment on my hand-me-down couch. His large frame seems to take up more room than necessary in the space, masculinity radiating from him like a powerful cologne. Just being near him is an aphrodisiac. He’s staring intently down at my computer screen and there’s a tick in his jaw again.
Showing him these one-dimensional men on the dating site only heightens my awareness that none of them measure up to the man seated beside me. He’s all I've ever wanted. He’s smart, kind, driven, and intuitive—once I get him away from my ornery brother, that is. Picking up on my moods and doing his best to cheer me up seems like more than most men would do. Especially for their friend’s kid sister. When he and my brother went off to college, I saw him less often. But he still found ways to make me feel like I mattered. He started leaving presents for me again on his visits home, as if he felt safer with some distance between us. A book under my pillow at Christmastime, another one for Easter.
But there were still the hard times. Like when he went to Mexico for spring break and I had to endure the dozens of photos on his social media pages, each with a blonde, busty sorority girl hanging off him like he was her own personal jungle gym. I hated seeing stuff like that. It was one thing to know they happened, but another to actually see the women I was sure he was sleeping with.
And then, of course, these last several years while I was in college and he and my brother were busy building their empire. I didn’t see much of him then, either. Which was just as well—I threw myself into my studies, earning dual degrees in architecture and structural engineering. It left very little time for dating, and because of that, I never really outgrew my secret Hudson Stone fantasies. But now that he’s here, in the flesh, those dreams feel so potent and dangerous.
“I just don't understand. Why do you want to do this? Really?” he asks, his voice tense.
Somehow I can’t help opening up. Maybe it’s the alcohol, maybe because it’s been a long and stressful week of work as I got acquainted with my new professional life. But mostly it’s the effect Hudson has on me. He’s like a truth serum.
“Because I...” I look down at my hands. “I’m tired of being a virgin and I just want to meet someone and get it over with.”
His hand slides under my jawline and he lifts my chin until my eyes are on his. What I see in those honey depths makes my breath catch in my throat.
“You were serious. What you said at the bar...you’ve never been with a man?” he asks, his voice tender.
Thankful for his sympathy, I shake my head. “No one.”
He suddenly looks angry, like he wants to punch something, and I don’t understand why. “How is that even possible?” he asks.
I shake my head again, mesmerized by his stare, because I’m really not sure how to answer that. I spent too much time studying? Too much time lusting after him? Neither of those are good answers.
“Then you shouldn’t just give it away to one of these random guys, Gracie. That’s not what you deserve.”
His hand remains at my jawline, his thumb lightly rubbing back and forth across my cheek. The rough pads of his calloused fingers on my skin feel amazing. I barely resist the temptation to lean into his touch.
“What do I deserve then, Hudson? Tell me.” I’m not sure when we started whispering, but I realize we’re both talking in hushed tones. Our faces hover just a few inches apart; I can feel the warmth of his breath on my lips. God, I wish he’d just kiss me.
“What if I could help you?” he suggests, his voice a strained whisper.
Stunned, I draw in a lungful of air. “What do you mean?”
&n
bsp; Chapter Four
Hudson
“What if I could help you?”
I have no idea what the hell I was thinking. The words just leaped out of my mouth. Listening to Gracie talk about kicking off her granny panties and popping her cherry with some random Internet dick...I guess it drove me temporarily insane.
But there's no taking back the idea now. Gracie sucks in her breath, blinking wide-eyed. “What do you mean?” she asks.
What do I mean? Here I am, sitting next to the world's most beautiful girl—drowning in her eyes¸ her scent, the gentle puff of her breath on my mouth that begs me to close the distance. I know what I want, but I also know what will happen if I take it. My best friend will rip off my balls and feed them to me. And I'll probably deserve every second.
But sweet Jesus, I'm pretty sure Gracie wants this too, and that's enough to blow my better judgment to pieces. All I care about right now is making her feel better. In as many ways as possible. And if her slightly quickened breathing, blown pupils, and flushed cheeks are anything to go by...
As an experiment, I dart out the tip of my tongue to wet my lips. Her darkened eyes drop like a magnet yanked them. Yeah, bingo. Having a little black book as thick as the dictionary has its advantages. I know damn well how to tell when a woman wants me.
And it's become crystal clear that Gracie needs me, too. I've always been her friend, her confidant and cheerleader. This virginity thing is clearly weighing on her mind. I can't stand the thought of her feeling inadequate or ashamed about herself. And if she's half as horny for me as I am for her, this could add up to a lot of fun for the both of us.
“It's just a suggestion. Since you want to get more sexual experience, we could do something about it together.” As calmly as I can, I cross one leg over another to hide my lap. The mere thought of being the first man inside her has me rock-hard. Images pour through my mind … Her lush hair fanned out over the pillow as I slip in. Her big blue eyes widening with surprise at how good my cock feels. Her perky tits bouncing and soft fuckable mouth falling open as I start pumping in earnest. I try not to groan aloud.
“I...um...” Gracie's eyes skitter around the room, always returning to me. Her cheeks are furiously red now. But she doesn't draw back even an inch. “H-how would that work, exactly?”
That's a lot closer to a green light than I thought I'd get. “Nothing complicated. We'd meet up at my place—say, three times—and I'd teach you what I know.” Taking a chance, I add, “What makes you come best. How to please a man. Anything you want to learn.”
Her breath hitches. Just the tiniest possible noise, but I can hear it, and it makes me ache. She chews her lip in an internal struggle. I can see interest flickering in her and I wonder again if she's as aroused as I am.
“They wouldn't be real dates, if that's what you're worried about. I'd just be...like a tutor.” I resist the urge to make a pun about showing you the ropes. I have no intention of springing bondage on an inexperienced woman, but I don't want to push my luck and scare her off with some stupid joke.
She chuckles. “A sex tutor? I think the word for that is 'gigolo.'”
Hope sparks in me. If she's teasing me like usual, that means she's feeling comfortable. “Hey, I'd never charge money. I share my expertise for the benefit of the community,” I protest, putting my hand on my chest as if I've been mortally wounded.
“Pro bone-o,” she snorts.
I laugh out loud, and soon she's giggling behind her hand, too. But the sexual tension doesn't drain from the atmosphere—it just changes form, becoming playful instead of heavy and unspoken. Seeing her cute dimpled grin definitely doesn't help me get my boner under control.
“I'll have to think about it,” she says finally, and my stomach leaps hot with anticipation. “But I'm not sure how to explain this...thing to people.”
“You don't owe anyone an explanation. It could be our little secret. Nobody has to know.” Especially not your mother hen of a brother.
She stares into her wine for a minute. “When would we start?”
“I'm free tomorrow night if you want.” I know I sound eager, but damn it, I really am.
“No, I have dinner with Melanie on Saturdays.” She pauses just long enough to make me wonder if she's finally shooting me down. “But I can do Sunday night.”
I feel a wash of relief, followed by desire. Despite being pretty sure that she wanted me, I'd still run the risk of coming on too strong and freaking her out. But she agreed—and less than forty-eight hours from now, she'll be mine. Mine to hold and kiss and taste and feel. “Great. How's eight o'clock at my place?”
She opens her mouth...
Then hesitates and closes it, looking down into her wine. Guilt is written all over her face. “No. I'm sorry. I can't.”
Crap...I screwed up after all. “What's wrong?” I ask.
“I can't do this to Hayden. I know he wouldn't like us messing around.”
I rest my hand on her shoulder. “I know how you feel. Hayden's my best friend and my business partner. I'd be taking a huge risk, too.” Bigger than hers, probably—Hayden would be a lot less hard on his baby sister than on the douchebag who deflowered her. And it would affect our jobs, not just our personal lives. But I'm not going to point that out right now. This moment is all about Gracie, not me.
She gives me a look of skepticism and concern. Not anxious, exactly, but needing to be convinced. I can't tell if she's still tempted or if that's just my wishful thinking. “If it's such a big risk, why are you willing to take it?”
“You let me worry about that.” Because my boner has hit the emergency override switch in my brain definitely isn't the answer she wants to hear.
She sighs through her nose. “I'm still not sure how I feel about lying to him.”
“It's not lying,” I insist. “It's just not over-sharing. Do you text him every time you go to the bathroom?”
She wrinkles her nose. “Ew...too much information.”
“Exactly. There are some things it's okay to not mention. Sex is your private business, so he doesn't need to know.”
When she continues to sit silent, I finish my train of thought. “Listen, Gracie...this is your own life. You get to decide what to do with it. Don't worry about what Hayden thinks. He's a big boy and he's going to have to face the fact that you're a grown woman now. If he judges you for having sex, he's a shithead.”
That gets a weak smile out of her. “And a hypocrite,” she adds softly.
“I wasn't going to say it,” I agree, shrugging. Hayden had his reasons for sleeping around—pretty similar to mine, in fact—but there's no denying how he acted before Emery inspired him to shape up.
I give Gracie's shoulder one last squeeze and let go. “Just think about it, okay? No pressure. I won't be offended if you change your mind.” Though I will jerk myself raw, imagining what might have been, before I try to get on with my life.
She chews her lip again, then answers, “Sure. I'll let you know.”
I can't resist smiling at her as I stand up. “I should probably head out now. But one more thing...” I pause on the other side of the coffee table. “If we are doing this? Promise me you won't see any of those guys from the website until we're done.”
“Why not?” Her brow is furrowed in a way that means she's just this side of annoyed.
“Because the whole point is to learn from someone you already know and trust,” I say carefully. I can't let her know how ragingly jealous the alternative makes me feel. Not just because it would be too much for my pride, but because she'd start doubting my judgment. “Someone who can find your clitoris and isn't an axe murderer.”
She rolls her eyes. “I'm telling you, these guys aren't...”
“If we meet up three times and you're not feeling it, then you can try them. But give me a chance to work. Get all the lessons before you start trying to put them into practice.”
“Yes, sir, Mister Stone,” she chirps with a half-smile. It was meant to be
a sarcastic retort, but I swallow hard. The image of her in a schoolgirl's uniform, roleplaying a “hot for teacher” scene with me, is way too much when I'm not allowed to touch her yet.
I wave goodbye and let myself out, already putting together a class syllabus in my mind. Three nights to grant my dream woman her deepest desires. This is going to be good...provided she says yes.
Chapter Five
Gracie
Melanie and I are seated at our favorite dinner spot—Tucchi’s in downtown LA. It’s a pizza restaurant with a big wood-burning oven in the center and little round tables topped with white votive candles. It’s casual and cute. Every Saturday we meet for goat cheese and roasted red pepper pizza and copious amounts of local wine. Calories don’t count while we’re having gossip and girl talk.
“So what's new with you, babe?” Melanie asks. “You wear that skirt I lent you yet?”
I shake my head. “I haven't had a chance. All I've been doing this week is work.” That tiny pink scrap definitely isn't appropriate for the office. Hell, I'd feel embarrassed to look at myself in the mirror with it on.
“So wear it at work. Who gives a shit?” she laughs.
“Easy for you to say,” I reply, smiling despite myself. “Clients don't come to my job hoping to look like me.” As a hair stylist, Melanie always sports the latest color and cut, plus fashion-forward clothes that I'm way too chicken to pull off. Customers flock to her chair for just a little touch of that beauty magic. And ever since we met as college roommates, she's always encouraged me to step outside my comfort zone into more mature, sexy territory.
Well, she might just get her wish for juicy news tonight. Because I seriously need some advice about Hudson.
Even as I sit here, sipping red wine and tearing chunks off my breadstick, I still can’t believe his offer. My belly tenses just thinking about it. Hudson actually being my first. Hudson actually wanting to be my first.