Hosed: A Single Dad and Virgin Romantic Comedy
Page 10
I shiver. I cup my breasts, but it’s not enough. Somehow, the alcohol and my own lust cause me to strip out of my shirt and then my bra. Stumbling to the full-length mirror in my room, I gaze at myself.
I’m all curves: full breasts, small waist, flared hips. “Why wouldn’t a guy like Gabriel want me?” I mutter.
I’m not sure where the idea came from. I blame it on the alcohol, the heat in my veins…but mostly the alcohol. I’m woozy, and I giggle as I try not to fall down while still wearing the giant heels Tiff persuaded me to wear tonight.
Grabbing my phone, I start posing and taking photos of myself topless. I don’t know where this vixen comes from, the one who licks her lips, rubs her nipples, and smiles seductively at the camera. The awkward virgin disappears. I’m having such a great time that I almost don’t hear the knock on my door.
“Kate, can I borrow some socks?” Tiff asks, her voice slurred. “I can’t find any. Or they’re all dirty. I don’t know.” She laughs.
I hear the doorknob rattle. Suddenly, I see what I was doing—taking topless photos!—and I scramble to find my shirt before Tiff bursts in on me. I’m too drunk to tell her to wait.
I fumble and curse, my phone in my hand still. By the time I get my shirt sort of back on, Tiff is opening my door, but she doesn’t step inside. She slides down the doorframe and starts laughing like crazy.
“Socks!” she exclaims. “Who thought of socks? They’re like jackets for feet!”
I stumble toward her, and she catches me behind the knees. Then we’re in a tangle on the floor: she’s laughing, I’m groaning, and my phone bounces out of my hand onto the carpet.
I hear my phone make a noise. Concerned that I’ve damaged it, I crawl out of Tiff’s lap.
“What’re you doin’?” She pats my butt. “Come back!”
I see the notification—Message sent—and it doesn’t compute. Sent a message? To who? I didn’t send anyone a message.
The alcohol makes me slow and stupid. As I look through my sent messages, it dawns on me what I’ve done. Horror washes through me in waves.
I’ve just accidentally sent my topless photos to none other than Gabriel Carter.
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I UNLOCK THE door using the keycard left for me at the front desk, again under the name Harrington. I strongly suspect that isn’t my date’s real name. But then again, I’m not using my real name either. Ava was the first thing that came to mind when The Agency asked what I wanted my profile name to be. I sat behind a girl named Ava in chemistry class in high school. Why she popped into my mind at that precise moment, I couldn’t say.
Deep breath. This is really happening.
Using my foot, I nudge the door open and peer inside. It’s pitch black, just as Mr. Mysterious said it would be. I swallow hard and step inside. Am I actually doing this?
Out of habit, I feel for a light switch on the wall to my left and flick it on. But nothing happens.
“That’s against the rules.”
The deep voice emanating from the darkness startles me and I gasp, jumping back against the door. It clicks shut behind me and I jump again.
“Sorry, it was habit,” I say quickly, clenching my hands into fists against my chest, trying to steady my nerves. Every part of me is shaking. How the hell did he disable the light switch?
“Follow the wall on your left and come forward a few feet.”
The deep, male voice is coming from ahead of me, and slightly to the right. I peer into the black void of the room, pointlessly trying to make out a face, furniture—anything. But it’s as if I’ve been blindfolded with a heavy cloth.
I put my left hand on the wall beside me and shuffle a few feet, willing my legs forward with each step. It’s all I can do to inch into the room a bit at a time instead of turning and bolting back to the door and down the hallway.
When I’ve made it about five feet into the room, Mr. Mysterious speaks again.
“Stop. Turn and face the wall. Put your palms against the wall and keep them there,” he commands.
I do as he says, slowly rotating away from the sound of his voice and raising my hands to put them flat against the wall, as if I’m about to be patted down by the police.
Should I spread my legs? My knees are trembling like jelly, but there is something about his voice... it is oddly comforting. A stir of excitement flutters through my stomach at the thought of being felt up by a perfect stranger. For godssake, there’s about to be a whole lot more happening here than just getting felt up, Etta.
I realize with a bolt of surprise that my panties are wet. Who is this person occupying my body? Because it surely isn’t me. Shy, awkward me who couldn’t get past third base to save my life was now about to go all the way in one night. As a job. Giving my virginity to an anonymous stranger for money.
I briefly wonder what he’d think if he knew. I’d lied to The Agency, out of fear of being turned away because of my inexperience. I told them I’d lost my virginity during my sophomore year of high school. Thank goodness they didn’t make me list the names of all my nonexistent sexual partners.
As far as Mr. Mysterious knows, Ava is a pro at this. Up for anything. Ready to go. But... I’m so not.
I hear rustling behind me, the sound of bare feet on plush carpet growing closer, and I pray he’ll be gentle with me. And that I can hide the pain, because I really don’t know what to expect for my first time, but I figure it’ll hurt a little. And, please god, don’t let him ask for anything too exotic, because I don’t have a clue of what I’m doing and he’ll definitely figure out he’s not getting his money’s worth with me.
Warm breath against the back of my neck sets my nerves on fire. I wait, barely breathing, my eyes squeezed shut. What will he do? How much will it hurt?
He moves closer and presses me to the wall, leaning into me. I can feel the hard muscles of his chest flex through the thin silk of my shirt and I exhale with a bit of relief that, if nothing else, at least he has a nice body.
A moment later, his husky voice is whispering in my ear.
“Naughty girl, Ava. Meeting a stranger in a dark room.” His words curl into the still air like wicked tendrils.
“Yes,” I whisper. I certainly feel naughty... and I’m relishing it. I’m surprising myself with every passing moment. Because I’m loving this... being told what to do. Not knowing what will happen, the anticipation of finally being deflowered.
He spreads his arms and places his hands beside mine on the wall, caging me. The heat of his mouth is on my neck again and he breathes deeply, inhaling my scent. The hunter savoring his prey. A warmth spreads through my belly and my nipples harden into points against the wall.
He nudges my chin and I turn my head, twisting slightly to face him, even though I can’t see anything, with hands still on the wall. And then his mouth is on mine, kissing me hungrily. I’ve always loved kissing—which is a good thing since that’s the one thing I’m experienced at. And Mr. Mysterious is not only well built, he’s an amazing kisser. I part my lips and sink into it. His fingers wrap around my neck, resting firmly against my throat.
When he stops, I tilt my head toward him, wanting more. He runs his tongue along the corners of my mouth teasingly and then tips my head back again, devouring me with deep kisses.
When he finally pulls away, I’m nearly panting. The simmering warmth between my legs has grown into a fire and I’m aching to reach for my clit, but I don’t dare.
His fingers tighten around my throat and he groans into my ear. “God, I want you so fucking much.”
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Also by Ruby Steele
Teacher’s Bet
Her Boss’ Package
Maid to Misbehave
About the Author
Ruby loves coffee, kittens, and hot bad boys and lives in Washington State.
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