Virgin's Fantasy

by Kayla Oliver

  I let out a sigh. “Damn it. Don’t be pissed, but he’s going with Tarvish.”

  There was a pregnant pause. I was worried she was going to tell me our date was off and that I was an asshole, but instead, she let out a short curse. “Damn. Well, okay. I’ll break the news to Marnie. Any chance he’ll change his mind?”

  I shook my head, which she couldn’t see. “Not a one. He’s made his mind up.”

  “That’s unfortunate.”

  “It is.” I hesitated, then just asked. “Are we still on for Saturday?”

  She laughed. It wasn’t as bright as earlier, but it was real. “Yeah, we’re still on for Saturday. I have to go, but I’ll see you there.”

  She promised to call and tell me what she was wearing on Saturday, though I would have no problem spotting her. But she didn’t know that, so I agreed. I needed a plan for how the hell I was going to work this out with being Trent Parker, but I decided I’d jump off that bridge when I came to it. For now, I had someone else to break the news to.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Callum

  Trent met me in my office. I was a little worried because he’d insisted on giving me his decision in person rather than over the phone, and I didn’t think that sounded like a good thing. You tell someone in person when you’re trying to let them down easy, not when you’re giving them what they want to hear.

  But I agreed to the meeting, and now I was left waiting for him to get here. He was a little late, and my mind was wandering. I was thinking of Marnie McKenna, because my mind was traitorous like that.

  I thought of her long auburn hair and the freckles that were speckled delicately across her skin in delicious places that I wanted to kiss.

  Marnie was becoming a real problem for me. It was one thing to have sex with a woman, but to have it twice was starting to invite trouble. Especially since it didn’t stop there. I dreamt of her writhing beneath me. I woke up to a hard-on and thoughts of her. She invaded my mind at any given moment, and it took me hours to get her out again.

  It was driving me fucking nuts.

  It’ll be over with soon, I thought to myself. One way or another. When Trent makes his choice, we won’t have to deal any more with each other.

  I frowned. The thought didn’t settle me like it should have.

  About twenty minutes later, the door opened to my office and Trent walked in. He looked all smiles and very pleased with himself.

  Irritation spiked and I narrowed my eyes at him. “You’re late, you asshole.”

  He laughed at me. “Such a charmer, aren’t you?”

  “Honeymoon’s over, sweetheart,” I answered smoothly. “You’ll either choose Tarvish or S&W. No point in laying it on thick now.”

  “Excellent point,” he agreed.

  I waited for him to tell me already, but he milked it. He waited patiently in the chair, in no particular hurry, and basically watched me lose my fucking mind.

  “Jesus Christ, Trent, just tell me already! Who are you going to sign with?”

  Trent’s smile softened. “Tarvish.”

  I slumped back into my chair. “Really?”

  He nodded. “Yeah. That’s always been in the cards. We’ve been friends for too long, and I know how you feel about S&W. I couldn’t betray you like that.” He shrugged. “And I worked things out so I get what I want anyway. Theoretically?”

  That piqued my interest. “What exactly was Marnie offering you?”

  He smiled at me. “Nope. Still not gonna tell you.”

  I sighed. “Clearly it wasn’t enough.”

  “Like I said. I get what I want anyway.”

  I let the news sink in. I’d won. Trent was signing with Tarvish, and Marnie would lose the contract. Victory should have tasted like sweet ambrosia to me. But it didn’t. Instead, I was left with a sort of hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach.

  Maybe it was that I didn’t earn it. Marnie worked her ass off to try and get Trent to sign, but all I did was get in their way and happen to have an in with Trent.

  All’s fair in love and war, I thought to myself.

  We went over the contract one last time, and Trent finally signed, the bastard. We agreed on a delivery date for the manuscript and a publication date for the final product. After that, Trent said he had plans to take Sara out to celebrate and invited me along.

  I shook my head. “Thanks, but I’ll pass. Not feeling it tonight.”

  Trent lingered at the doorway for a minute, then shrugged. “Suit yourself. Honestly, though. I think you should just tell Marnie that you’re into her. You’ll be a lot happier, and probably she will be, too.”

  Before I could think of how to respond to that, he was out the door, winking and throwing over his shoulder, “You never know. It could be true love.” I heard his laughter echo until the door closed itself after him.

  Marnie

  Just before I was leaving the office to get officially shitfaced at the bar in the hopes of forgetting how miserable I was—Trent Parker had gone with Tarvish and I hadn’t told Dorian yet—the door opened.

  “I’m headed out, Court. If anyone needs me, tell them they’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

  When Courtney didn’t respond, I glanced up and saw that she wasn’t standing in the doorway. Callum Reid was.

  My body did its thing, responding to him instantly. I felt hot all over, and liquid heat pooled between my legs. My heart hammered in my chest, and my nipples hardened at the sight of him. It was ridiculous, but regardless of what was going on or whatever other feelings I might or might not have had, my body still wanted him.

  Badly.

  “What the hell do you want?” I snapped, because I didn’t like how instantly I was turned on by him. “I thought Parker would have told you by now. He went with Tarvish. Now will you leave my office alone?”

  Callum scowled at me, then closed the door behind him. I froze. Visions of us doing it on the desk—again—flashed through my mind, and the wetness between my thighs increased.

  “Not yet,” he told me.

  Sighing, I straightened and let my shoulders slump. “What do you want, Callum? We’ve had our battle. I lost, you won. What more is there?”

  For a second, he said nothing. He just stared at me like there was more, but he wasn’t sure if he wanted to admit it yet. Or maybe I was just misinterpreting it and he was trying to calm himself down enough to speak. Either way.

  “I just wanted to inform you that Mr. Parker has had a change of heart.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  He nodded. “He’s decided to go with S&W Publishing instead of Tarvish.”

  Although he was saying those words, my mind was having difficulty processing them. I was left with this odd sensation of surrealism, and I wondered briefly if I was dreaming. Sexy Callum was in my office, so it was possible.

  “He… why would he do that?”

  Callum lifted his shoulders casually, then shoved his large hands into his trouser pockets. “I told him to.”

  And just like that, the old familiar anger was back in full force. “You son of a bitch. I don’t need handouts, okay? I do a damn good job, and I don’t need your fucking pity.”

  “Jesus, it’s a damn gift,” he growled at me. I liked how low his voice was, the way it seemed to rumble around in his chest first. “Stop being so stubborn and accept it already.”

  “Gift?” I demanded. “Why would you give me a gift in the first damn place?”

  “Because you’re fucking sexy and I can’t get you out of my head and I like you, all right?”

  We both fell silent. It seemed like neither of us could believe what had just come out of his mouth. He likes me. I felt like a schoolgirl with a crush, giddy and a little stupid.

  Shaking my head, I laughed at him. “Jesus, you’re an idiot.”

  He grinned at me. “You’re a pain in my ass.”

  Although I tried, I couldn’t keep the smile off my face. He liked me. It was such a stupid thing to
be giddy over, but I was.

  “Does this mean you’re going to fuck me on my desk again?” I asked calmly.

  His eyes flashed darkly, and his mouth turned into a wicked smile. “I was thinking we’d get drinks or something first, have a real date, but I’m not going to say no to an invitation like that.”

  He came to me then, his hands grabbing for my skirt immediately and jerking it up over my legs. I helped him out by undoing my shirt buttons and pulling out my breasts, yanking them out of my bra to give him access. His hand grabbed for my panties and tore them off me, his other hand going to cup my mound.

  Our mouths collided and I blindly fumbled with the zipper of his pants. I undid them, reaching for his massive cock. He was hard already.

  We didn’t do it on the desk this time. Instead, he lifted me up by my ass and I wrapped my legs around his middle, putting my bare center against his hard member. Then he slammed my back against the wall. He pulled back enough to position himself at my entrance, then didn’t hesitate before sliding in.

  I cried out, clutching at his shoulders. He entered me, driving toward his own release. The angle was perfect, putting friction on that little bundle of nerves above my pussy with each stroke.

  His rhythm was hot and fast. This was about embracing what was between us, whatever that was, and just tossing caution to the wind.

  It was glorious.

  His hands alternated between holding my ass and massaging my breasts. His mouth kissed and sucked on my neck until I was pretty sure there would be a hickey later, and I cried out over and over again until we both tipped over the edge.

  He lost himself in me, then slipped out. We were both panting, exhausted but sated. He once again stumbled heavily into my chair, but this time he jerked me down with him. I landed haphazardly across his lap.

  For a while, we were quiet, but finally, I looked at him and said, “I just want you to know, I generally wear the pants in the relationship.”

  He laughed, the sound rumbling low in his chest. “I’d rather neither of us wore pants. Or anything else. I like you much better like this.”

  His eyes raked over my exposed breasts and dipped between my legs where my pussy was still visible.

  “You’re impossible,” I told him, but I kissed him anyway. It was a real kiss, not fueled by anger or sexual drive. Instead, it was the start of something real. I didn’t know where it would go or whether or not it was a good idea, but I felt better for taking the risk.

  When the kiss broke, he smiled at me. “A real date?”

  I nodded. “A real date.”

  “Maybe sex after?” he asked hopefully.

  I laughed. “Nope, not this time. I don’t have sex on the first date.”

  Rewriting Romance (Bonus)

  Kayla C. Oliver

  Chapter One

  Trent

  Marnie was talking. In my personal opinion, that was all she did. Talk, talk, talk. She was like the energizer bunny, minus the drum and with a permanent scowl on her otherwise pretty face. You would think sleeping with my best friend might change some of that, but no. Maybe that was why I didn’t give two shakes about the blah that was coming out of her mouth. She was my editor, and it was a given that she was trying to make my book better, but I was confident. I didn’t need the fucking help, and I didn’t need it from some woman whose idea of a job was picking someone else’s work apart.

  And I wonder why she’s constantly scowling, I thought mildly.

  If I was honest about things, it wasn’t really Marnie McKenna’s fault that I was basically zoning out during our little meetings. Sure, I thought editors were full of shit and that I had climbed to the top without them, thank you very much, but my mind was elsewhere and that had more to do with my lack of interest than anything else.

  She was wearing purple.

  I could picture the sexy little spitfire that was Marnie’s assistant in my head with perfect clarity. She was short, but curvy in the best kind of way. Hips that made you want to put your hands on ’em and tits that begged to be suckled. She had that retro curly-hair thing going on that was fucking Marilyn sexy on her, and I wasn’t a big fan of purple, but damn she made that dress look good.

  It would look better on the floor, her standing beside it in those damn killer heels, not a stitch on her…

  My mind couldn’t help but wander to the things I wanted to do to her. The least of which was kiss those fire-engine-red lips.

  Fucking sexy.

  But, of course, there was a small hitch with what my cock wanted. Marnie’s assistant, Courtney Hughes, hated my guts.

  It was a real problem point in our relationship.

  “Damnit, Harvey, are you even listening to me?”

  I blinked, Marnie’s pissed-off voice bringing me back to her office. She was tapping her nude-painted nails on her desktop. Behind the desk, I could see her knee bobbing, telling me her legs were crossed. And her eyes were narrowed in the equivalent to fire and fury.

  To my credit—or detriment—I didn’t wince. Instead, I smiled wanly and shrugged. “Sorry, what did you say?”

  She opened her mouth, ready to let me have it, when I interrupted her by standing up.

  “Never mind,” I told her congenially. “I’m not going to listen this time anyway. I’ve got other stuff to take care of, so don’t you worry your pretty little head about it.”

  I didn’t think I could make Marnie McKenna any angrier than I had, but as her freckled face reddened, I realized I’d managed to do just that. There was some part of me deep down inside that was slightly terrified of her in the way that all men are terrified of an angry female, but I reminded myself that she couldn’t do anything. I held all the cards.

  I was the one she’d signed to S&W Publishing.

  I was the one who won her that much-sought-after partnership.

  And I was the one who was going to make her and her associates a lot of fucking money with my latest soon-to-be best-selling novel.

  So she could take her anger and shove it where the sun don’t shine.

  “You are two months behind the original deadline!” she ground out from behind gritted teeth. Her hands slapped onto the top of her desk, palms flat, her eyes glittering in anger like a Disney villain’s. “If you don’t get your shit together—”

  “You’ll what?” I taunted lightly. “Cancel my contract?”

  She ground her teeth together in a really unhealthy manner. I might have pointed that out except I wasn’t an idiot. She was an angry redheaded woman. All I needed to do was find out she was Irish and that would seal the crazy deal.

  “Get me the manuscript, Harvey, or it’s your ass.”

  That was all she told me and while the warning rang true, I knew there wasn’t really anything she could do.

  I smiled broadly, showing as many pearly white teeth as I could. “Sure, sure, sweetheart. I’ll get it to you.”

  Before she exploded at me for the sweetheart comment, I sauntered out of there feeling as though I’d won a victory. Maybe that was petty of me, but I was a petty man and big enough to admit it.

  As soon as I’d exited Marnie’s office, however, I encountered another angry woman who wanted to wring my neck. Unfortunately, she was the one that I was using as source material for my wet dreams at night.

  Fucking sexy Courtney Hughes. She was even a goddamned secretary. How could I not have dirty thoughts about her?

  My smile faltered and for just a second I thought about walking back into Marnie’s office just to beg for a little more time to figure out what to say to Courtney. But it was too late. Courtney’s steely eyes flickered up toward me, the rest of her body facing away and sitting up straight.

  I suddenly had a lot more appreciation for posture. Sitting straight meant her breasts were pushed slightly forward, round and perky in that tight-fitting purple dress, cleavage begging to spill from the deep-cut neckline. Her back was curved slightly, emphasizing her slim waist as it flared out into those fucking sexy, g
rab-me-some hips.

  I felt my dick harden in my trousers, and suddenly I wished I’d been wearing jeans. They did a little more to hide the evidence of my arousal.

  Nothing to do about it, I thought, adjusting my belt in an effort to discreetly adjust my cock.

  “Hello, Miss Hughes,” I greeted the little vixen, letting my broad smile turn sultry and sexy.

  Her full, bright red lips pursed together tightly as her eyes narrowed, the long lashes silky and dark against her pale skin. When her lips parted, I imagined all kinds of naughty things, including but not limited to sliding my already hardened cock between them. Which of course led to images of her on her knees with an excellent view of her cleavage, followed by her not in a dress, followed by—

  Well, the rest is pretty obvious.

  Unfortunately, her line of thinking didn’t exactly go the same way.

  “Do I look like I’m in grade school, Mr. Harvey?”

  Her tone was a shade above nuclear winter. I internalized my wince, managing to hold on to my grin.

  Letting my eyes wander over that tight, sexy little body of hers, I dragged them back up to her face as I said, “No, you most definitely do not.”

  Her cheeks darkened, but her eyes remained narrowed. “Then don’t call me miss. It’s Ms. Hughes to you.” She turned away from me then and went to typing on her computer. Her little movements were just enough to jiggle those lovely tits, and that held my attention for a moment longer.

  Shaking my head, I said, “My apologies, then. Maybe I should just call you Courtney so I don’t mess it up again.”

  She didn’t even look at me. “That would be inappropriate, Mr. Harvey.”

  Determined to make some headway with her, I put both hands on her desk in front of her and leaned forward slightly. I could smell a soft, flowery scent that she wore, faint so as not to be overpowering. “C’mon, sweetheart. Why not give a guy a chance? You never know, you might find that you like it.”

  “It” could have been any number of things, from dating to kissing to my cock buried so deep inside her that she screamed out mine and God’s name in the same breath. I let her decide for herself on that one.