by Jessa James
I was going to fuck whatever hottie I could find at the bar. I wasn’t going to ask, or tell him I was a virgin. Hell no. That would derail the entire thing. I didn’t want him to know about my unfortunate state until his cock was buried deep and the deed done.
If he knew, he’d leave me untouched. Hot and horny and desperate to be fucked. But something about the V card scared off my would-be lovers.
I wasn't anything special. How could I be? I was still holding my V card. If I'd been sexy enough, attractive enough, hot enough, I'd have dates every weekend. But no. I couldn’t seduce a man because I’d never taken one to bed. I didn’t know how to act sexy, or to tempt a lover to my bed. Those invisible signals couples gave each other? I knew they existed, but had no clue how to participate.
If I didn't resolve this virginity problem, I'd turn into an old cat lady. A spinster cat lady with a cobweb covered vagina. When I told that guy Jim, my date to the office Christmas party, that I'd never had sex before, his mouth had fallen open and he'd been afraid to touch me. He'd said I was a unicorn.
A unicorn. No one wanted to fuck a unicorn. At least not Jim since he’d run for the door faster than I could track him.
Seemed no man wanted to deal with a virgin. It wasn’t like I was saving myself for someone special, I’d just never met a guy I wanted badly enough to spread my legs and let him take me.
Except Carter Buchanan. But he was so far out of my league, even thinking his name was a joke of epic proportions. He was a walking cliché, tall dark and handsome. His dark brown hair just reached his collar in the back and I stared at the soft waves when he wasn’t looking, imagined running my hands through his hair. His dark eyes were intense. Every time he looked at me, I felt like he could read my mind or something. Carter was sexy, successful. A freaking billionaire Buchanan, a member of the most famous, richest, hottest group of bachelors in all of Colorado. And my Ford's brother.
Sure, I worked with him and delivered reports and files to his office, but Carter Buchanan barely even knew I was alive, and it was time to stop pining for something I could never have.
Condensation still coated the mirror from my scorching hot shower. I wiped the mirror with the hand towel and touched up my lipstick before walking back into my bedroom to grab my dress.
Yeah, I was a unicorn. A horny unicorn with an itch to scratch. And it was all Carter Buchanan's fault. Sure, he was beyond reach, but he was also my fantasy.
If I had my way, I'd walk into his office, climb on his lap as he sat in his desk chair while he was on a conference call and take him for a ride. I'd have pulled his huge cock—and in my dreams it was huge—from his dress pants and impale myself on it. He'd have ripped through my stupid hymen with ruthless precision and then fucked me with an expertise that left me sated and well satisfied.
Just like the long line of women he'd had. I stepped into my little black dress as I thought of Sheila and Tamera and Evelyn, all women he'd taken to various functions and office parties. I'd been barely able to look at him as he'd placed his hand at the small of their backs. His touch never was a blatantly sexual gesture—I'd never seen him once be overtly sexual with any of them—but I wanted him to do it to me nonetheless. I'd feel the heat from his palm on my lower back and he'd guide me wherever he wanted me to go.
I wanted him with a fierceness that made me want to poke those women's eyes out with my letter opener. But I'd needed the job at Buchanan Industries to pay for my master’s program and so I kept my feelings well in check. Carter didn't know I wanted him to bend me over his desk, pull up my skirt and fuck me hard. His hand would cover my mouth so no one else could hear me coming. I didn't care about office policy. He didn't know I watched his ass every time he left Ford’s office, otherwise he'd probably report me to HR. I was just his brother’s secretary and he'd never once indicated he was the least bit interested in me. Until today.
Today, he’d touched me. Kissed my cheek. Had he been fishing for an invite to Frankie’s tonight?
“Shut up, woman. You’re losing it.” I scolded myself in the silence of my bedroom. Carter Buchanan was a billionaire. A sexy, arrogant, hard-nosed businessman. He’d never in a million years be interested in a stupid virgin like me. But if he offered, would I give it to him? Would I let him punch my V card and just be another woman in his long line of them?
Hell, yes.
As I slipped into my heels, I knew it didn't matter. I was leaving the company anyway. Sure, being Ford’s secretary was interesting, and good experience, but I hadn’t gone to school for six fucking years to answer the phone and keep a man’s schedule. No, I’d gotten the call just the day before, a position at a new company in their finance department. All mine. Three times the pay and half the overtime. My final interview with the CEO was tomorrow, but they’d already offered me the job.
In fact, I’d already given Ford my two-weeks notice. One more week, and I was out.
No more making copies and getting coffee. I’d have my own office with an admin assistant working for me. No more Tuesday and Thursday morning meetings with Carter Buchanan. No more sitting across from him ignoring that sexy as hell cologne.
No more Carter.
I walked to the dresser and put my favorite diamond stud earrings in as I scolded myself. “It’s for the best, Emma. You can’t have him. It’s time to move on.”
No. More. Carter.
I couldn't stand to see another picture of him with a gorgeous woman on his arm. I had to give up the dream that he'd ever want me, that he thought of me as anything more than an employee. And so I was thankful for the change my new job would bring. I'd let this ridiculous obsession with Carter go and move on with my life.
Starting tonight. First, I'd find a guy who wanted a good time. In a couple weeks, I'd start my new job as a full-fledged, experienced woman and finally be free of my obsession with Carter Buchanan.
Carter
I got to the bar early, sat at a stool where the lighting was dim, nursed a drink and watched Emma. She met up with Tori promptly at seven—her punctuality was borderline OCD—and had a drink. Only one, which had kept me relaxed.
They talked and scoped out the room, no doubt debating the man choices for Emma. I was content to sit and stare at her blatant curves, the bright slash of red on her full lips, the way her pale hair fell in ringlets on her neck. But when the ladies moved to the dance floor and random men joined them, I wasn't so patient. Tori looked great, as usual, her body hugged in a tight white dress that highlighted every curve. Her hair was a dark auburn, and next to Emma’s pale blond hair and tight black dress, they were toting some dangerous curves. And I wasn’t the only man in the room who noticed.
It was after the third song that Tori went to the restroom, leaving Emma alone. One guy had danced two songs with her, shifting and swaying with her to the steady beat. He hadn't touched her. Yet. All the men were watching her in that form fitting black dress, some I recognized from the office. With the V-neck, her breasts were on display. Grudgingly, I had to admit that she was dressed tastefully. Emma wasn’t a whore, she was classy. But it was the most of her cleavage I'd ever seen.
That view was for me, not every horny asshole in the bar. When the guy moved behind her, placed his hands on her hips and started to grind against her ass, I was done biding my time.
There was only one thing on that guy's mind. Her pussy. And that pussy belonged to me.
I tossed some money on the bar and walked over to the dance floor. Emma's eyes were closed and she moved to the music as if she had an internal beat. When I stepped close, the guy looked my way. I angled my head, telling him, without words, to get lost.
Perhaps it was because I was right in his face. Perhaps it was the look I gave him, but he let go of Emma's hips, held up his hands to show me they were off her, and stepped away.
The man had a good instinct for self-preservation because he'd gotten his dick as close to Emma as it was ever going to get.
Settling in behind her, I p
ut my hands on her for the second time. I was glad the music was loud because it hid the groan I couldn't hold in. She was so warm, her body so soft and lush. I stepped up close and moved against her, my cock pressing against the soft swell of her ass. Leaning in, I breathed in her scent at the side of her neck. When she angled her head to give me better access, I kissed her sweaty skin and licked the taste of her from my lips.
The scent of lemongrass and sugar drifted up from her still damp hair, but her neck tasted salty and sweet and I wondered if her pussy would be the same. My mouth watered to find out, but not here. Not now.
Now I reveled in holding her, to feel her writhing, completely uninhibited, against me. I saw Tori approach, watched her brown eyes widen in surprise at the sight of me dancing with Emma in my arms. The woman wasn't going to keep me from my Emma. She wasn't going to interfere with me getting what I wanted. Fuck no. Because Emma was already mine. From the way Tori smiled at me, she knew. When she angled her head toward the entrance, I nodded in reply. She was leaving and knew I was the one who was going to keep Emma safe tonight. Yes, the woman was a genius and she was getting a fucking raise.
When the song ended, Emma spun around, put her hands on my chest. When she looked up at me through her long lashes, saw who'd been dancing with her, she froze. Her hands came off my chest as if I'd burned her, but I grabbed her wrists, pressed her hands back where they belonged.
“Carter,” she breathed, and the sound of my name on her lips made my balls ache. She’d never said my name before, and suddenly I wanted to hear it over and over, preferably as she begged me to stretch her open on my hard cock. Her eyes were wide as she licked her lips. I doubted she knew what that little gesture did to me. “I’m sorry. I mean, Mr. Buchanan. What are you doing here?”
“Dancing with you.” I smiled then, but it only made her more nervous.
“I don't think… I mean, we shouldn't.”
“Dance?”
She nodded, looked around. The crowd swirled around us, unaware of the electricity arcing between us.
“All right, Emma. We don't have to dance.”
Releasing one of her hands, I tugged her along behind me toward a VIP room they kept open for their top tier clients, like the Buchanan brothers.
“Wait!” she cried, all but digging her fuck-me heels into the hardwood dance floor.
I looked back at her, took in her wide, wild eyes, the frantic breathing that only made her breasts press invitingly against her dress.
“Where are you taking me? I need to find Tori.”
I stepped close, tucked a stray curl behind her ear, watched as she licked her lips. I stifled a groan.
“Tori is a big girl. I’m sure she can take care of herself.”
“But… but where are we going?”
“Somewhere private,” I replied.
“But… you can't. I mean, I shouldn't. I need to—”
She bit her lip when I stopped moving. I pulled her out of the way of the constant flow of bodies to and from the bar and cupped her jaw. I placed my thumb on top of that lip, right over her dented flesh and tugged it free from her teeth. The lingering wetness there nearly made me groan. Fuck, I wanted to taste that. Now. Right fucking now.
But she was already running scared. I had to tone it down a notch, or my sweet little virgin was going to bolt like a gazelle running from a lion.
“Need to what?” I asked, watching as my thumb stroked over her plump lower lip, spread that bit of wetness all over her mouth. “Get laid? Get rid of your V-card?”
Even in the dark club I could see a flush creep up her cheeks. She looked away.
“Let me go,” she countered, lifting her chin in a stubborn gesture. Anger made her pale eyes a stormy sea blue. I had never seen her riled like this before; she was always so pleasant and controlled, as a professional in the office should be. But now…
Instead of releasing her, I bent down and kissed the corner of her mouth, lingered to make sure she could smell the cologne I’d put on this morning and feel the heat of my body pressed close. “You want to get laid, Emma, I'm right here.”
Her eyes widened, her mouth fell open at my meaning.
“How did you—”
“You want to break open that pussy of yours, get rid of your virginity? My cock's big enough for the job.”
Those luscious pink lips fell open, closed. Her eyes widened in shock, but I saw desire there as well. Curiosity. She was interested. And panicked.
I didn’t stop her when she ran for the ladies’ room. She needed space, and I’d give her a little.
Following her, I watched and waited as at least half a dozen women entered, stayed inside for a few minutes, and reappeared.
My Emma was hiding from me. She thought the little picture of a lady in a skirt on the door would prevent her having to deal with me.
Well, I wasn’t leaving so she could flirt with some random asshole and let another man take her home. She wanted me. I’d seen it in her eyes. Which meant it was time to seduce my little virgin into admitting it. Even if it was in the ladies’ room.
* * *
Emma
I paced the restroom. Four stalls with dark rose doors, two white sinks with pink soap and fake orchids in a small green vase next to the hand towels. The music was muted, but the bass made even the floor vibrate. I glanced in the mirror and shook my head. I’d left my apartment tonight full of confidence.
Standing up straight, I smoothed my hands over my hips. The dress hugged every curve like a second skin. I wasn’t super thin, but I had a woman’s body, rounded hips and full breasts. I was more Marilyn Monroe than supermodel, but the men in the bar didn’t seem to mind.
I’d come here to find a stranger who didn’t know I was a virgin, to take him home and get it over with. I’d stupidly believed I could get some random guy to have sex with me and never even tell him I was a virgin.
But now, everything was a mess. Carter was here. Carter Buchanan. And he knew. God, he knew I’d never been with a man, and he wanted me anyway.
Offering myself to a stranger seemed so much easier than sleeping with Carter. And that was just fucked up in the extreme.
A few ladies came in, took care of business and left me alone. Their sympathetic looks just made me feel worse. Was my stress that obvious? Of course. I’d seen more than one freaked out woman hiding in the restroom in my day.
The door opened again and I ignored the sound until I heard the deadbolt click, locking me inside.
I whirled to find Carter, his shoulder leaning against the door. So casual, so at ease. “You going to hide from me all night?”
“What?” I backed up, so turned on I could barely breathe. He was in the ladies’ room. With me. And he'd locked the door. “I wasn’t hiding.”
He smiled and walked toward me. I stopped moving when my back ran into one of the paper towel dispensers on the wall.
“If you weren’t hiding, then what were you doing in here?”
“Thinking.”
“Thinking about kissing me?” He raised a dark brow and stepped close. Lifting his arms, he caged me in, his face inches from mine, a hint of five o’clock shadow making his normal dark, sexy look even more intense. I wanted to taste him, run my lips along his jaw and feel that hint of beard rub my sensitive lips.
I licked my lips. Kissing? Yes. And more. So much more. “Yes.”
Oddly, being in a public restroom made me bold. It wasn’t like Carter was going to throw me down on the tile and rut into me. That wasn’t his style. And so, I told him the truth. Admitted that I wanted him. What did I have to lose? At this point, it wasn’t like I could lose my job, since I'd already given notice. I would no longer be an employee of Buchanan Industries in five work days. Five more days in the same building with Carter.
He lowered his lips and I closed my eyes, waiting. Waiting.
The kiss never came and I opened my eyes to find him staring, watching me with rapt attention. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Em
ma.”
Carter crushed his lips to mine—finally—and I opened for him, for his thrusting tongue and complete domination. My body sang under his touch, as if I’d waited a lifetime for just this one kiss.
His body pressed forward, his hard erection pushing into my stomach. But I didn’t want him there, I needed him lower.
Feeling bold, I wrapped my arms around his head and kissed him with a year of pent up desire. I lifted my left leg and wrapped it around his hip, trying to get his hard cock where I needed it, rubbing my clit.
With a groan, he lowered a hand to my leg and traced his way up my thigh. I’d put on the thigh high stockings with a brand new garter belt I’d bought, just for tonight. For the stranger I'd planned to seduce. But now, I was thrilled to know I'd put them on for Carter.
When his fingers found the edge of the stockings, brushed over the taut clips of the garter, he pulled back, arched a brow. “What's this?” he asked.
I couldn't answer.
“Show me.”
My mouth fell open but no words came out.
“Show me,” he repeated. “Lift your skirt and show me the sexy, naughty things you're wearing.”
It was the heat in his eyes, a look I'd never seen before, that had me doing as he'd asked. Slowly I lifted the hem of my skirt. At first, his brown eyes held my gaze like a magnet, then dropped to watch as more of my thighs were revealed. I could feel the air on my bare skin above the stockings and he groaned as my garter was revealed. He kissed me before my skirt lifted enough for him to see my matching panties. It seemed just the stockings and garter was enough. Too much.
It made me feel feminine and very powerful.