Virgin’s Passion
Bad Boy’s Virgin Series
Book 3
Kayla C. Oliver
Let’s get to know each other…
WARNING:
This book contains sexually explicit content and adult language. It may be considered offensive to some readers. This book is for sale to adults only. Please ensure this book is stored in a location that cannot be accessed by underage readers.
Copyright © 2017 by Kayla C. Oliver
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any manner whatsoever without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the author’s permission.
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously, and are not to be constructed as real. Any resemblance to persons living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.
Other Books by Kayla C. Oliver
The Billionaire’s Secrets Series
The Billionaire Secrets Box Set
Desire Me
Taming the Billionaire Series
The Art of Lust
The Art of Love
The Art of Temptation
The Billionaire Parker Brothers Series
Temptation
Fake True Love
Love in Lust
Dared to Love
Bad Boy’s Virgin Series
Virgin’s Fantasy
Virgin’s Lust
Contents
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Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
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She had the opportunity of a lifetime right at her fingertips, but the passion she found in his arms could destroy it all.
Happy reading!
Kayla C. Oliver
Chapter One
Candace
“You are intelligent, creative, and valuable,” I reassured myself as I looked at my reflection in the bathroom mirror. “Intelligent. Creative. You’ve got this.” I blinked and smiled.
Stepping back, I looked at my outfit, a navy blue skirt with a white blouse and a vintage pin at the throat to ensure the button stayed closed. I’d dipped a little deeper into my savings to buy something special for my first day at work.
“Quite a difference from the last dress code,” I told myself ruefully, running a brush through my thick black hair one more time. Carefully, I turned to the right and looked over my shoulder. Then to the left. Everything looked perfect.
“Now, if I can just get a seat on the bus, I’ll be in good shape.” A few minutes later, I did just that and exhaled a slow, nervous breath, thinking back to the last year and how far I’d come.
For the past year, I’d lived in a one-bedroom garden apartment in the Blackburn neighborhood. It wasn’t the safest place in the city but it certainly wasn’t the worst either. Sure, I had iron bars on the windows and a decorative iron gate across my front door. The back door had two deadbolts. But the neighbors upstairs were a nice older couple. They were quiet. That was important to me, after my last job had been full of constant noise. If I thought back, I could still feel the thump-thump-thump of the music in my chest, before I even set foot in the building each day.
No. Quiet was what I craved, and my cheap apartment was my fortress of solitude. The only place I found more relaxing than my own sofa was the public library, where I had gotten to know the librarian, Katy, on a first-name basis.
“We have a fantastic business section,” Katy had told me nine months ago, when I’d first stepped inside the tranquil building. Like my apartment, it wasn’t the greatest facility. Some of the books were really old and outdated. Others looked like they might have been print-on-demand copies written by members of the community who fancied themselves writers. But, if a girl was patient and thorough, she could find herself some real gems on saving and investing money.
“Also, if you hear of a book you want that isn’t on the shelf, we can order it for you. They usually arrive within two or three days,” Katy offered.
I liked the woman. She was just one of those sweet people who you knew wouldn’t harm a fly.
“If only there was a book on how to find a job when you have no college degree,” I snorted.
“We’ve got some books on that.” Katy took me by the arm and led me to the job section of the library. “You’ll be surprised at all the things you can do without that piece of paper.”
“It’s not that I wouldn’t like to go to college. I would. But I can’t pay for it, and I’m not going to start out life with debt.”
“Smart girl.” Katy patted me on the shoulder as she led me to a tall shelf filled with books on job-finding techniques. “This should give you some ideas. Sometimes, all you need is to fill out an application and it’s as simple as that. What did you do before you moved to the city?”
Though that conversation was the beginning of a close friendship, sharing coffee once a week at one of the little tables in the lobby when Katy took a short break, I never really answered her question. I had money that was more than enough to live nicely for at least another two years if I was frugal. But I wanted to invest it. I wanted the money to start working for me instead of it being the other way around.
So, twice a month, I commuted from Seattle to Portland, a three-hour drive, one way, to work. Thanks to that trip, I made enough for the month, with always a little extra to save.
But it wasn’t worth it. Though the drive was bad enough, there were other things, sad things, dirty things that I just didn’t want to deal with anymore. So, a normal nine-to-five was what I wanted.
Over a few weeks, I read every book I could get my hands on about finding a job and entering the workforce for the first time. I created a résumé that, although a good bit of fiction, was completely reasonable. No one would doubt it. The need for references was a bit of a nuisance, but Katy volunteered to give me a glowing review and my landlord also agreed to provide me with a solid endorsement. And, before I knew it, I had an interview with ABF Securities.
I bothered Katy one more time for help on nailing the interview. Like usual, Katy came through with flying colors, setting aside seven books that would help a newbie maneuver her way through the grueling interview process.
“And don’t forget to send a thank you note or an email,” Katy urged. “I know it sounds stupid, but those little things really matter.”
“Why would I send a thank you note for an interview? I should send a thank you when they call to tell me I got the job. Sending a thank you for their time? They should be thanking me for mine,” I joked. But I followed what Katy and the books suggested.
My interview at ABF took two hours. I met with Annet
ta in Human Resources first and filled out some paperwork, including another copy of my résumé. Then I met with Shandy Peters, the supervisor of the department looking for a new secretary. Finally, I met with Etta Henrickson, who would be my immediate manager.
I liked Etta right from the start. She was a portly woman with eyes that nearly disappeared when she smiled. Her office was almost overrun with giraffes. There were pictures and statues and knick-knacks of the noble beasts on every space inch of space.
“Someday I’ll get to Africa and see them for myself,” Etta replied when I inquired about them. We seemed to connect over the fact that I took an interest in her own interests.
After two days, I received the call from Etta, asking when I could start.
Now, here I was, riding the bus to my first day on the job as the VP of Marketing’s assistant. Sure, it was way down on the totem pole, but it was a job. A real job. A job I could tell people about and a steady paycheck, the same amount every two weeks. It would be quiet, and probably a little boring, and I was going to love it.
Growing both more excited and more nervous with every passing mile, I pulled out a novel I’d found on the fifty-cent shelf at a thrift store and couldn’t say no to. The description said something about a small town and vampires and maybe a demonic possession or two thrown in for fun. My plan was to read a little every morning, partially to relax, but also to keep my mind off the stares I knew I was getting from the males in the vicinity.
A woman couldn’t be built like me and expect to blend into the woodwork. There were certain things men’s eyes just sought out instinctively, and a pair of large breasts was definitely one of those things, followed closely by a shapely backside. If at all possible, to have these two delights attached together by a tiny waist was the eye candy every man craved. An hourglass would have been jealous of my figure. I might sound conceited, but it was the truth.
But to me it was as much a curse as it was a blessing. Sure, it got the door held open for me, and sometimes I’d get a seat on the bus. Sometimes I got tired of being ogled, but I was happy to talk to anyone as long as they knew saying hello didn’t mean they’d be planting my ankles behind my ears the next time I saw them.
Women are just as bad. They made just as many, if not more, assumptions about me based on what they saw. But jealousy was pretty easy to spot and there was no getting away from it either.
That was another reason I liked Katy. The girl was comfortable in her own skin. Confident. Plus, she had a gorgeous husband who would walk through fire and back again for her.
I had never really had a serious boyfriend. I couldn’t. In my line of work, before joining ABF and the morning commute, dating was a liability. I couldn’t risk it. For starters, I’d never date someone I worked with. Dipping the pen in company ink was a disgusting analogy because it rang so true. But dating someone outside the business was no good either because once they found out about the business, they were sad, mad, or turned on. None of it worked, so I stayed single.
I snuggled up with my book, trying to ignored the nerves, though they were actually good. Not the feeling I’d get waiting in the dentist’s office or getting my eyes checked at the DMV.
No. This was more like starting school or stepping into the gym after seven months of eating badly. At first, it would be hard. I’d have to learn the ropes. There would be lots of names to forget, procedures to screw up, and files to misplace.
But after a couple weeks, the machines would make sense. The procedures would start showing results. And soon enough it would be a pleasant, uneventful routine that I’d get better and better at until I knew everything I could about my department.
Of course, I wouldn’t be vying for the VP of marketing position within the first year. It was just good to know there would be something for me to keep in mind as a prize.
Finally, the bus pulled up in front of ABF Securities. People piled off and scattered like ants leaving the anthill in search of pleasantries to bring back to the insatiable queen.
Without hesitation, I walked through the revolving doors into the lobby. As I looked around the bustling first floor, I was shocked no one recognized me. In Portland, it was dangerous for me to walk around in some areas of town. I’d hear my name called by a group of guys down the street, or worse, some man behind me at the grocery store panting my name as his eyes glazed over and the porno in his mind began to play.
Here, no one knew me. No one noticed anything but a very attractive woman. A business woman.
I walked to the elevator bank, smiling pleasantly at everyone else who was wearing their Monday morning scowls. Except for the janitor. He was smiling. He was really handsome, too, for a guy who cleaned toilets and mopped the floor all day.
Chapter Two
James
Since when do they hire women who looked like that?
I watched the brunette stroll into the elevator. She reminded me of those World War II pin-up girls—Betty Paige in the flesh.
“Did you see that?”
My co-worker, Sean, elbowed me as he walked by.
“You’d have to be a blind man not to,” I replied quietly. “If your eye causes you to stumble, gouge it out.”
“What does that mean?” Sean squawked.
“Just something my father used to say.”
Sean had no idea I wasn’t a professional custodian. Of course, he wasn’t a professional custodian either, not nearly as much as he was a professional pain in the ass. No drive. No sense of responsibility. One of those guys who thought the world owed them.
“Does your girlfriend look like that?” he asked.
“Unfortunately, no,” I answered. The truth was I didn’t have a girlfriend. Unbeknownst to him, the ‘Jenny’ that popped up on my phone several times a day wasn’t my girlfriend. She was my boss. The vibration in my pocket let me know Jenny was calling right now.
“She heard you,” Sean chuckled as he watched me pull my phone from my pocket. I nodded as he walked away, disappearing through the door marked Maintenance.
I tapped the screen on my phone and held it up to my ear.
“What the hell is this I hear that you told Rodriguez his efforts were unsatisfactory and his time would be better spent surveying the men’s room at the YMCA?”
“Hi, honey,” I joked. “I’m sorry my departure this morning was so sudden.”
“Don’t give me any of your wise-ass remarks, Clevis. You are one ass-chewing away from probation. Rodriguez is on this surveillance with you. You do not call the shots, do you hear me?”
“It’s not that I don’t think he’s important,” I said, looking around to see if anyone was listening. I tried to sound as vague as possible. Anyone eavesdropping would just think it was some boring conversation with my girl. “But he’s a distraction more than anything. This is a one-man job. My intention isn’t to disrupt the apple-cart. It’s to get it safely to the end of the block. I’m almost there.”
“Disrupt the apple-cart? Like you did with the Salmo case that cost the department an extra fifty thousand dollars in damages? Or how about the Berg case? That was one for the books. What did they say at the internal affairs office? I can’t remember.”
I swallowed hard.
“You haven’t forgotten already,” the chief spat into the phone.
I looked around to make sure no one could hear me. “They said I was better suited for a career in a nuclear facility than in a uniform.”
“Yeah, that’s right. And why did they say that?”
“I don’t see the relevance of bringing up a complaint lodged against me over eight months ago.” My knuckles were white as I clutched the phone.
“No! Wrong! Why did they suggest I send you off to Three Mile Island as a security guard, Clevis? Tell me!”
“Because they said I was toxic,” I replied, my voice trailing off like a balloon losing its air.
“That’s right. Toxic. You’re a poison, Clevis.”
“I understand. I can’t say
you’re wrong. I’m appealing to your sensibilities. Please don’t give up. Not now. It won’t be much longer and I’ll be able to give you everything you want.”
“Will that include documented evidence?”
“Yes.”
“Search warrants for the mailroom through the boardroom?”
“Absolutely.”
“Arrest warrants all around.”
“With a bright red ribbon around each and every one.” It wasn’t my finest hour, borderline pleading, but I needed Barnes to keep me in this case.
“Rodriguez is your contact. If I get even the slightest hint that you’re icing him out, I’ll yank you off completely.”
“I understand. I apologize for letting my ego get the best of me.”
“Spare me your false modesty. And don’t think I don’t know your pseudo-intellectual act by now. It might work with the ladies but not with me. You get your head out of your ass and wrap this up. Rodriguez will be waiting for an update as soon as you’re off the clock.”
What could I say? I couldn’t argue with the man. He held all the cards.
“Did you hear that? Rodriguez will be contacting you. Answer the damn call.”
“I will.”
The phone went dead. He still had a landline, and I swore it was just so he could slam the receiver down when he was mad. Coincidentally, he was mad all the time.
So, I was still on my case, but I could feel the ice cracking beneath my feet. I had to tread lightly and carefully if I was going to knock this out of the park within the next few weeks. That was at least how long it was going to take.
From what I had gathered so far, there were some insider shenanigans going on. I had narrowed down the pool of suspects, but it was still too wide of a net to cast into the water.
“All I need is a little more time,” I muttered while I walked through the same door Sean had. It led to a drab hallway that reminded me of middle school. Florescent lights hung unattractively across the ceiling. The cinderblock walls were painted the most uneventful beige you’d ever seen and the floor was covered in a tile that nearly matched the walls.
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