THE PLAYBOY'S VIRGIN (Complete Set)

by Mia Carson

  Picturing Greyson sitting in a room with other people, talking about his emotions and what made him angry, presented an amusing scene. She could imagine him rolling his eyes, growling curses under his breath, forced to count to ten every time he was upset.

  “I have my moments,” he answered, and she heard the fridge door open again. “Just like you do.”

  Her amusement vanished, and she fiddled with her mouse. He saw her moments firsthand, and her face flushed from embarrassment. She’d managed her anger fairly well over the years… until she met Greyson. He pushed all the right buttons at all the wrong times. She couldn’t even count the number of times she’d had to hurry off before she exploded at him while staying here. He hovered like a freaking helicopter. She wanted to lay back and enjoy him taking care of her, but all he did was force her to eat three meals a day, take her pain pills that tended to make her a little loopy, and sleep. There was no pampering and no gentle touches or kisses. Nothing.

  That was enough to make any woman tear her hair out in frustration.

  The sound of a pan hitting the stove tore her from her fantasies of this actually being a romantic time together, but who was she kidding? He was a damn womanizer. He’d even admitted he hadn’t been in a real relationship for years. Probably forgot how to act.

  No excuse, she thought and started on her work again, tweaking a few details the best she could with her left hand. One of these nights, she would have to push him to either make a move or admit he wasn’t ready for this. Hell, maybe I’m not ready for this.

  ***

  Greyson laid out the bacon in a skillet, scrambled a bowl of eggs, and once the bacon was finished, pulled it out and fixed the eggs. Behind him, Belle whispered under her breath every now and then. He wanted to take her damn laptop away until she agreed to let him help, but every time he suggested giving her a hand, annoyance flared in her eyes and he bit back the words. Since bringing her to his house after the accident, he was treading on thin ice.

  He had never lived with a woman before. Having Belle in the house excited and unnerved him at the same time. He tugged on his beard as he continued cooking breakfast, debating if this was a good idea. In the hospital when he told her she was coming to stay with him, he imagined using it as a time for them to get to know each other and explore more than just a few moments locked in each other’s arms at the office. The second she stepped inside, however, seeing her in pain, knowing she came from such a hard past, he worried he would only make her life worse.

  He’d never been the knight in shining armor type, yet he was attempting to be just that. From what he could tell over the past few days, it didn’t make her happy. It annoyed the living hell out of her every time he fetched a drink for her or adjusted a pillow for her wrist. Even reminding her to take her pain meds caused her jaw to clench.

  The breakfast finished, he dished the food onto two plates and moved quietly around the island to the wooden kitchen table with enough room for six, a table that had never been filled. When he saw Belle’s face, he stifled a laugh, grinning widely. Her tongue stuck out between her lips, and her eyes narrowed in concentration as she studied the monitor. His chest ached, and he wanted to reach out and smooth the frown lines on her brow, but his hands tightened on the plates and he resisted. Belle wanted more than just a night, he knew that, and part of him balked at the thought. Most nights, he worried about why he cared so much if this didn’t work out. Seeing her in pain was not an ideal situation for him.

  “Breakfast,” he said and she flinched. Her hand moved on the mouse with a jerk, and she flared her nostrils as she glared at the screen. “Damn—sorry.”

  “No, it’s fine,” she said sharply with a smile, one he’d come to know all too well.

  “You need to eat,” he said, holding his ground when she looked ready to tell him no. “The doc said to eat with your pain meds and build up your strength, so just shut up and eat.”

  “And if I’m not hungry?”

  “Then I get on the phone with the doc like he told me to and let him tell you why not eating is not good for you.” He shoved the plate closer and handed over silverware. “Eat, please. I’ll get your meds.”

  She huffed but took the fork with her left hand and picked around the eggs. “I… uh, I was wondering something,” she murmured quietly.

  The tone of her voice made him pause, his hand on the pain med bottle. “About?”

  His heart thundered in his chest, waiting for her to tell him that this wasn’t working and that she wanted to leave. He wondered what his gut reaction would be if she said those words, but thankfully, that wasn’t what she said. What she did say wasn’t much better.

  “Why did you want me to stay with you?”

  Greyson fumbled with the bottle, and it clattered to the floor. He stooped to scoop it up, and when he straightened, her piercing blue eyes locked onto his gaze. “I wanted to make sure you were taken care of,” he argued. “Is that so wrong?”

  “I already quit my gallery job,” she said slowly. “I would’ve just stayed in the dorm.”

  “Over-working, forgetting to eat, and not taking these,” he said, setting the bottle on the table.

  “I am an adult, you know. I’ve managed just fine over the past few years,” she snapped, picking up the bottle and popping off the cap as he sauntered over to the table and rested his hip against it.

  “Right, of course you have. You know I met your roommate—Carrie, is it? Yeah, at the hospital. We had a nice long talk about how you like to take care of yourself,” he growled, leaning down so he was eye-level with her. Belle’s cheeks reddened, and she gripped the pills tightly in her hand. “So, as discussed before, you’re not leaving my sight until that cast comes off.”

  He sat down in his chair and dug into his breakfast angrily. Why couldn’t she just let it go and stop being so damn stubborn? Like you could do it? he told himself. You’d be a mess, too.

  “At least by myself I wouldn’t be confused about us,” she whispered so quietly Greyson wasn’t sure he was meant to hear. But he did, and his fork stilled on his plate. “I’m going to go take a bath. Excuse me.” She stood slowly, bending low enough for her sweater to drape open and give him a glimpse of her cleavage so he would know she was not wearing a bra.

  His groin tightened painfully, and his hand fisted on the table. A bath. Belle was going to be naked in his bathtub—again—and he was going to sit at the table like an idiot, watching her walk away.

  Follow her, you idiot! She’s swaying her damn hips! She wants you, his mind roared, but his ass remained planted firmly in his chair.

  The bathroom door closed a moment later, and he sagged in his chair, picking at what remained of his breakfast. If it was any other woman, he’d be in there, bathing her languidly, watching the water drip across her naked skin as he soaped up a loofah and insisted on getting in with her so he could reach every delectable bit.

  But Belle was not like any other woman. None of them stayed the night or woke up beside him. None of them put him in his place like she did. None of them wanted so much more than he was even sure he was ready to give.

  When he told her about the fight that broke his ribs, he couldn’t decide what made the words fall from his mouth so easily. He wanted to tell her more about his life, about what he wanted for the company, but his fear of the future held him back. Stomach too twisted in knots to finish eating, he pushed back from the table and cleared the dishes. She’d left her laptop open on the table, and he peered down the long hall first before leaning over and checking her work.

  A few days ago, she had showed him the sketches she based this design on, creating a fully immersive 3D drawing of an ancient temple hidden in a jungle. Her detailing astounded him still, and he wanted to help her finish it but knew she’d hold it against him forever if he touched her work.

  Avoiding temptation, he backed away and set about cleaning the kitchen and making himself another cup of coffee. His phone vibrated in his jeans, and he pul
led it out when a door opened and Belle appeared in the hall, wearing a towel that barely reached her mid-thigh.

  Hair pulled back in a clip and hand clutching the towel together over her nakedness, she stopped and stared at him. Her lips parted, and Greyson swallowed hard. One slip of her hand and he would finally glimpse all of her, the body he wanted to possess above all others. His feet moved, dragging him towards her. She straightened, pushing out her breasts as if in offering, and when her tongue darted out to lick her lips, his erection swelled painfully in his jeans. The hair rose on his arms, and he pictured himself closing the distance between them and carrying her off to his bed… until she raised her broken wrist to shove a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

  His feet stopped abruptly, and he coughed, forcing his eyes away. “Everything alright?”

  Her posture deflated and she smiled bitterly. “Yeah, everything’s just perfect. Forgot my razor,” she muttered and ducked into her bedroom.

  Greyson’s head fell back on a heavy sigh as he wondered again why the hell he was holding back. There she was, ready for the taking, and he couldn’t do it. She was still injured to start with, but the nagging fear battered his desires.

  He finally checked his cell and frowned at the message. Quickly grabbing his coffee and moving to his office at the other end of the house, he unlocked his screen with a swipe of his thumb and his lip curled in disgust at the words.

  “Aiden.” He muttered her name darkly and kicked his office door shut.

  She was another reason he’d been on edge for the last two weeks. Every day, she texted him or called, sometimes both. He never responded and deleted the voicemails without listening to them. He had Belle in his life, and his focus needed to be on understanding whatever went on between them, not worrying about someone who had only been a temporary lover. She was great in bed, but she was a shallow woman who manipulated those around her. It was her job, really. He and everyone else who knew her knew exactly what type of business Aiden was in. Secrets, from hot-shot CEOs to celebrities and politicians. That was all she ever wanted, and that was what she never managed to make Greyson spill, no matter how much she made him groan with pleasure.

  Now, she wouldn’t even be able to do that. Belle had ruined him for her.

  His finger hovered over the keypad on his cell, wondering if he should send anything back. Maybe ignoring her wasn’t sending the right message. He hunkered down over his desk and told her very simply to leave him alone. He wasn’t interested in anything she was offering, not anymore. He hit send and set his cell down, turning to his computer to log in remotely for the day and see what messes Tim had made so far. He was barely into his e-mails when his cell vibrated, and he cursed to see another message from Aiden.

  His lips moved over the words: You’ll regret this, Greyson. One day you’ll regret turning me away.

  “I think not,” he replied aloud, deleted her contact, and blocked her number from his cell. As he set his cell back down, he sucked in a deep breath and blew it out, releasing some of the tension built up in his body over the past two weeks.

  Some but not all. He tried to focus on what he needed to do for the day, but his mind drifted back to Belle standing in the hallway wearing nothing but a damn towel. “Shit,” he muttered and rocked back in his office chair.

  There was no way in hell he’d be able to keep this up much longer before he gave into his desires. She wasn’t ready for a fun-filled night of sex, not with her injuries, but maybe it was time he let her see that he did want her with him. A night of relaxation would help ease her annoyance at him, too. Grinning madly at his plan, Greyson set to work coming up with the perfect night for Belle. He grabbed his cell, dialed her friend Carrie, and looked out the window, taking in the view of his large, completely private backyard.

  “Carrie, Greyson Taylor,” he said when she answered. “I was wondering if I could ask you some questions about Belle. You have a minute—or ten?”

  Chapter 2

  A few days passed, and Belle sat in a patch of sunlight streaming in from the rear windows of the ranch as it set. Her laptop sat on a table beside the overstuffed chair, but she ignored it. She held her broken wrist in her left hand and picked absently at the cast. She wanted it gone so she could finish her projects. She needed to do something to keep her mind occupied while she contemplated what Greyson was really playing at having her living with him.

  This was all new territory for her to begin with, but she’d accepted his invitation—or demand, really—with an open mind. The other day, when she’d stood in the hall wearing nothing but a towel, she’d expected him to finish what they had started. But his eyes had flickered to her cast, and just as he had before, he shut down.

  Was he scared he would physically hurt her? All her other bruises and cuts were almost healed, and the cast secured her wrist. The pain meds helped a lot. She was in good enough condition for exploring whatever this was between them, but Greyson refused to make a move, and when she tried to hint that she wanted him, he purposely avoided it.

  She was ready to track him down and tell him she was going back to her dorm, whether he liked it or not, when he walked out of the hallway leading to his office. His eyes were bright, and he bounced on the balls of his feet. Unable to keep herself from smiling, despite her annoyance, she shifted in the chair to face him.

  “What are you up to?” she asked suspiciously, her heart fluttering.

  “I need you to come with me,” he told her, “but you have to wear this.” He held up a blindfold, and Belle’s heart leapt clear into her mouth.

  “For what?”

  “A surprise. I promise, you’ll love it,” he promised, and the ruddy complexion she saw through his beard told her he was pleased with his surprise. “I hope you’re ready for a long few days.”

  “Days?”

  Unsure, she stood and let him wrap the blindfold around her eyes. His hands brushed across her shoulders, and she leaned into his touch. He stilled behind her, and for a moment, she rested against his chest, breathing him in and letting the promise of a storm surround her, but he moved, took her hand, and said to trust him.

  “Where are we going?” she asked, giggling when he cursed and she heard a table scoot across the floor. “Greyson?”

  “Don’t worry. I was too busy watching you,” he replied.

  Belle’s cheeks warmed, and she nibbled her lip as he maneuvered her slowly through his house. She noticed when the light changed and it grew dark.

  “Greyson?” she asked when he let go of her hands and she came to a hesitant stop. “Can we…uh, can we talk about this surprise? You know… I mean, I know I’ve been hinting that I’m ready, but if you’re into something weird that I don’t know about—oh!” She gasped when he untied the blindfold and it fell away. “Oh, wow… oh man, this is crazy!”

  Belle staggered forward another few steps, her eyes unable to take in everything as quickly as she wanted. Her hands covered her mouth as she giggled loudly. The far wall sported two large monitors, filling the wall from one end to the other. Sitting on a black desk—twice the size of the one from Greyson’s office—sat two state of the art keyboards, mice, and headsets, all the latest models of gaming gear from Greystone Games. She rushed forward with a shriek and picked up the headset carefully, turning it around to examine its new contoured shape.

  “This is incredible,” she whispered. Greyson watched her intently. “Where are we… What is all of this?”

  He set the blindfold down and held up his hands as he glanced around the room. “This is my state of the art, at-home gaming room,” he told her proudly. “And just so you know, I’ve never let anyone back here before—well, except Tim. But he was drunk and probably doesn’t remember.”

  He pointed out a mini fridge, a pantry filled with snacks, another fridge with beer, and two incredible gaming chairs Belle could never hope to afford. She watched as he sauntered to the desk and clicked the mouse. The monitors came to life with the login screen for
Greyson’s first successful Massively Multiplayer Online Role Playing Game, Dragon Slayers of Gorgoth.

  “You ready for a few crazy days?” he asked and pulled out a chair for her.

  She nodded enthusiastically until she remembered her cast and frowned. “I don’t think I can, not with the cast, and I don’t have an account.”

  “Oh yes, you do—for life, actually,” he said and picked up the mouse. “And I fixed this so it should be easier for you to use. Try it.” He held it out to her, and she took it from him. The flat mouse allowed her fingers to reach the right and left buttons easier. It glided smoothly across the mouse pad, and she shook her head.

  “How did you think of this?”

  “I had some help,” he admitted. “Carrie said you’d been a fan of this game since it came out but could never afford to play. I thought we’d change that.”

  It was too nice—the nicest thing anyone had ever done for her, actually—and she hesitated until he reached out and held her hand in his warm one.

  “I know it’s been weird the last two weeks,” he said quietly. “And I know you’re not used to be taken care of, but let me do this for you without an argument. Please?”

  “What about work?”

  His teeth flashed white against his beard as he leaned closer. She held her breath, hoping he would kiss her, but he didn’t. Inwardly, she sighed. “That's an advantage of being the CEO, and I have some vacation time. Tim can handle it for a few days.”

  He motioned to the chair again, and with nothing to hold her back, she flopped into it with a laugh and he pushed her in. She put the headset on, maneuvering the mic down towards her face. He gave her the credentials to log in, and as the music reverberated through the headphones, vibrating her whole body, she bounced in her chair, unable to contain herself. The desk was far enough back from the wall that she could watch both monitors clearly. Belle let herself get lost in the game and created her dragon-slayer warrior, complete with piercings matching hers but with bright red hair. Greyson created a new one, and they entered the game together.