Desperate Virgin

by Jacqui Penn

  Desperate Virgin

  Book 2 Grey’s Helter Skelter Series

  Jacqui Penn

  Contents

  Desperate Virgin

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  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

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  Acknowledgements

  About Jacqui

  Copyright

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  Adultery. Revenge. Self-destruction.

  A rash act of vengeance can change lives forever

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  Chapter 1

  Julie Webster was ashamed to admit that at thirty years of age her virginity was alive and kicking. She didn´t want it hanging around, but there it stayed reminding her, even taunting her, that she´d never quite managed to get a man.

  It was about sex; she had missed out. Everyone else had experienced it, so why not her? Deep down it was much more than sex. She felt lonely, unwanted and useless. She had friends and she put on a good front, always happy on the outside, but inside she secretly wanted more. No one wanted her, no one really cared.

  She’d forgotten about the Fifty Shades of Grey book she’d borrowed until she went out with her friend Paul for a drink one evening. Paul was her best friend, also single, but gay. Julie had often thought it a waste but had never let her feelings be known. They were sitting in a local sports bar, on a cushioned bench seat facing a wide screen television showing the horse racing.

  ‘I was almost chatted up by the most gorgeous man yesterday,’ Paul said, looking indignant. He was so camp.

  ‘Why are you looking like that? How do you get almost chatted up?’

  He ran his fingers through his blond, spiked hair. ‘That´s the problem. He wasn’t chatting me up, but he picked me out, I know he did.’ Paul crossed his legs. ‘Then he asked if I’d be interested in double-glazing.’

  Julie laughed. ‘Double-glazing. Just what you need.’

  ‘I told him, politely, I like the wind whistling into my cracks thank you very much. Then I held my head high and walked away. I’d given him one of my looks as well, what a waste.’ He fluttered his eye lashes, making Julie laugh again. ‘I only want a man, it’s not a lot to ask from life.’

  ‘You and me both, Julie said. ‘At least you get the occasional fling, I get zilch.’ She was thoughtful for a moment. ‘I’ve just remembered, someone from work loaned me a book, she said it would boost my sex life. I must read it.’

  Paul shook his head. ‘You can’t improve your sex life by just reading a book; you do need to find a man first. Believe me it’s not the same without a man. I should know.’ He raised his eyebrows in disgust.

  Julie screwed up her nose. ‘That is too much information. I’m going to read it anyway.’

  After arriving home that evening, Julie took the book from her teaching bag and placed it on her bedside table. She’d read a chapter each night before she went to sleep; it might give her some pleasant dreams.

  She read the first few pages and plumped up her pillow. She couldn’t get into the book; it wasn’t doing anything for her. Not even a twinge to get excited about. She read on until eventually her eyes grew tired. Disappointed, she turned off the bedside lamp and wondered what was wrong with her. She just wasn’t the type of woman men went for.

  She wasn’t good looking, not even the slightest bit attractive to be honest. Her earliest recollection as a child, was of her mum telling her she shouldn’t be jealous of pretty girls because most of them didn’t have a brain.

  She had been kissed, but that was all. Twice by different men on dates, if they could be called dates, but the kisses were the closest she’d ever got in the romance stakes.

  She referred to the first kiss as the disaster. Graham Sunbury closed his eyes and homed in. Her eyes were still open and she could see it would be an awkward miss, but he had grasped both her cheeks so tightly in his hands, she couldn’t move to avert the disaster. Her nose was wet. He released her cheeks, she rubbed her nose dry and the first kiss was over. It had been a mistake from the start.

  ‘How many boys have you kissed?’ Graham had asked before the kiss, and looking her straight in the eyes.

  ‘Can’t remember. Loads,’ she’d lied.

  ‘Bet you don’t want to kiss me.’ He’d looked at the ground and kicked the toe of his shoe into the loose gravel of the bike shed. They had come from the Karate class Mr Thompson ran every Thursday evening after school.

  ‘Don’t mind if you want to,’ she’d answered, her heart quickening with nervousness. She looked over her shoulder, the coast was clear. Graham put his hands either side of her face and the rest is history. He let go of her face, turned, and pulled his bike from the stand. She watched as he cycled down the driveway out of the school and out of her life. He never spoke to her again and used to turn and walk in the opposite direction if he saw her approaching.

  The second endeavour, the attempt wasn’t much better. Matthew Saunders. He was tall and lanky, with hair falling over his left eye making him somewhat mysterious and challenging. They were on the same childcare course at college. At the end of the first year, the class had met up for a party in the local park. Cider had been the fashionable drink at the time and too much led to the second disaster.

  They had spent most of the evening chatting and laughing as the drink led them into a sense of false security. She laid on her back as he bent over her face, his lips hovering just above hers. He dribbled, straight into her slightly open mouth. She gave a scream and jolted up, knocking his nose with her head. She had never seen anyone bleed so much as Matthew did that night. They laughed about it later and remained friends, but Matthew never tried to kiss her again. She felt it had been alcohol-induced anyway. Why would he have been interested in her? She was plain, chubby, with knock-knees and no dress sense. Her wayward hair always looked a mess whatever she tried to do with it. Why would anyone be attracted to her?

  On Friday evening, Paul was at Julie’s house, having a few drinks and sharing an Indian take-away. They sat on the sofa helping themselves to the dishes of food Julie had put on the coffee table.

  ‘That book I told you about, a slow starter and then it took off,’ she told Paul.

  ‘Got you lusting after a man did it?’

  Julie giggled. ‘You could say that. It certainly got my juices flowing.’

  ‘Yuk! Don’t talk to me about your wet places.’ He shuddered over-dramatically.

  ‘You don’t know what you’re missing, have you ever been with a woman?’

  ‘No I haven’t and the thought repulses me. All those creases and flappy bits!’ He screwed up his nose and broke off a piece of poppadum. ‘Although, one of my past conquests said it doesn’t matter male or female, a hole’s a hole.’ He picked up his vodka and took a swig. ‘If I was that way inclined, I’d be shagging every day with the number of women who come on to me.’

  Julie finished her Bacardi and poured another. Everything seemed hazy. ‘Must say I’ve never considered going with a woman either.’

  Paul shifted position and crossed his legs. ‘So tell me about the rude bits then. Is it pornographic?’

  Julie recalled several examples of lurid sex-play from the book. Paul wriggled around on the leather sofa next to her and made several strange noises. Julie was amazed at how accurately she remembered the intimate entanglements. As she spoke she felt lustful stirrings in her lower regions. Paul turned to look at her. He looked good tonight in a sleeveless, tight tee-shirt and figure-hugging jeans. He
was so slim he always looked good. She loved the way his gold rope chain laid neatly above his collar bone. Their eyes met for a moment. She needed a man and she pounced.

  At first, Paul seemed as though he would go along with her intentions. They were roughly grabbing at each other and groping eagerly; it came to an abrupt end when Paul pulled away.

  ‘I’ve got to go.’ He leapt up from the sofa and pulled his clothes straight. Julie watched out of the window as he strutted down the road and out of view. Their brief liaison had sobered her. Oh my God! How had that happened? Did he start kissing her, or had she made the first move? Her memory was blurred.

  The next morning, Julie woke with an uncomfortable feeling. For a moment she’d forgotten the previous night’s events, but gradually she remembered. She groaned and turned onto her side, burying her head under her pillow. Paul! How desperate was she? Eventually she pulled back the covers and sat on the edge of the bed. Her head spun with the after effects of too much alcohol.

  Why did men snub her? Okay, Paul was gay and she shouldn’t have even tried, but the others? Her mind drifted back to college days. After the disaster and the attempt, she had offered herself to at least three other males who’d all turned her down flat. She recalled sitting next to one of them in the college canteen. She thought they’d been getting along great.

  ‘So what sort of films do you like?’ Gary had asked.

  ‘All sorts. Comedy and romance are my favourites.’

  ‘You like romance do you?’ He looked at her with a strange smile and a seductive look in his eye.

  Julie smiled and placed her hand on his knee. ‘I could do with some in my life.’ She ran her hand up his leg, but before she reached the top, he stopped her by forcibly placing his hand on top of hers.

  ‘I don’t think so.’

  Julie gulped. How embarrassing was that? ‘Sorry. I’m only messing about.’

  Gary picked up his can of coke, swung his leg over the top of the bench and strolled away. She sat for a minute and looked around nervously. Had anyone else seen what had happened? He didn’t need to have such a bad attitude; she’d only been messing around. How could she have read him so wrong, she thought he liked her? The canteen probably wasn’t a good place to touch a man up. His loss. Would she ever lose her virginity? She gathered up her bag, picked up her sandwich box and made her way to the next lecture. Thank God Gary was on another course and she wouldn’t be in a class with him for a couple more days.

  Martin also had a bad attitude. She’d given him an expensive tee-shirt for his birthday. He took the parcel, didn’t even open it, made excuses and went to join a group of lads sitting on the grass. A few minutes later she could hear them laughing and had a suspicion it was at her expense. He seemed to steer clear of her afterwards and she never received a thank you for the tee-shirt.

  Jeremy had been another cause of embarrassment. Julie knew she’d pushed him too far when she followed him into the men’s toilets. The drink had flowed one evening when a group of students went to a local club. She’d had a couple of slow dances with Jeremy when he slipped off to the toilet. It seemed like a good idea at the time, and Julie frog marched after him. She gingerly opened the door to the gents, and peered inside. The coast looked clear, apart from Jeremy standing at the urinal with his back to the door.

  Julie came up behind him and slid her arms around his waist. The next moment, Jeremy leapt in the air. Unfortunately, he hadn’t finished relieving himself and he showered them both.

  ‘What the fuck? Julie, what the hell are you doing? Look at the state of me.’

  Julie stared at his wet trousers and splashed tee-shirt. He had got most of it. ‘Well, I’ve got it all over me as well,’ she said sulkily, looking at her pee-splattered jeans and silk top.

  ‘You’re a nut-case. You’d better get out of here before someone walks in.’

  Julie suddenly felt quite sober. ‘I’ll have to go home and change. I’ll be back soon.’

  ‘Well don’t bother looking for me. I won’t be here waiting for you. I can’t believe you did that.’

  ‘I was only having a laugh. See you soon.’

  ‘Not if I see you first you won’t.’

  Jeremy did speak to her again, but only in passing. She had to stop throwing herself at men; she definitely put them off. She’d vowed never to embarrass herself again and so far she hadn’t; until last night with Paul. How the hell could she have done that? Other people didn’t appear to have trouble finding a partner. What was wrong with her? She was too pushy in her younger days, and if she was honest, desperate. She’d thought once she stopped chasing, someone would show an interest, but it’d never happened and here she was at thirty, still a frustrated virgin.

  She should be used to rejection. She hadn’t even been wanted at birth. Her adoptive parents had been wonderful and she couldn’t have wished for a happier upbringing. However, the pain of initial rejection had always stuck like a limpet in her mind. She could have tried to find her birth mother, if only she’d had the guts to face another possible rejection, but she didn’t. She would have found the final rebuff too much to bear.

  With her head throbbing and wishing she hadn’t revisited the past which always left her feeling bad, she gingerly went downstairs and made herself a coffee. The nearly empty Bacardi bottle sitting on the coffee table revealed just how much she’d overdone it. Paul’s vodka bottle was also empty. She glanced at the clock, eleven, he should be up by now.

  She let it ring, but he didn’t answer, so she sent a text.

  : Bit of a hangover. Catch up with you later x

  By three o’clock in the afternoon Julie hadn’t received a reply. Unusual. Paul always replied immediately. She couldn’t have lost his friendship over a stupid drunken kiss, but she knew how temperamental he could be. Might be better to give him a few days to get over it. As time passed, she missed him, and berated herself for what had happened. Why hadn’t she learned anything from the mistakes she’d made all those years ago?

  On Wednesday evening, she answered her front door and Paul stood on the step.

  ‘Hi,’ he said reservedly.

  ‘Hi, come in.’

  He stepped into the hall. ‘Okay, I’ll tell you straight. Don’t ever try that again. It doesn’t matter how drunk we are, I can’t go there.’

  ‘You make me sound like some raving sex maniac. I put the entire thing down to the drink.’ She took a deep breath. ‘I don’t fancy you. Not one bit. There’s nothing about you I fancy; you’re gay anyway.’

  ‘I know that. And I don’t want to hear any more about that book. It’s leading you astray... I’ll borrow it when you’re finished.’

  Was he serious? ‘Okay. I’ve nearly finished it. There’s this room. A red room—’

  ‘No! I don’t want to know. Do you fancy going for a drink?’

  It would be much safer to be with her in public. She’d never been like this before. She was like a bitch on heat! Hopefully she’d be back to normal once she’d finished the book and they could take up their friendship once again without her coming on to him. Since reading the book she’d looked at him differently, with a sort of lustful yearning. He couldn’t handle it. He wanted the old playful Julie back, without the sexual innuendoes.

  As he worked his way through the chapters, Paul couldn’t believe the book had affected Julie so much. What a load of rubbish. He had better sex than that on a one night stand. Heterosexuals had no idea what it was all about. Maybe it turned him off because it involved a woman. Bondage and a domineering man were always so exhilarating.

  Finally, he returned the book.

  ‘What did you think of it?’ Julie asked, expecting him to have a lot to say on the subject.

  ‘Not a lot, except you heterosexuals are missing out.’

  ‘Do people really do those things? It’s made up, isn’t it?’ Julie asked, trying not to sound too inquisitive.

  ‘I don’t think so. You need a man.’

  ‘I know I
do. Something’s got to change. Look at me I’m in a right state. I’m not going to get a man like this.’

  Paul looked her over. Slumped shoulders! Frizzy hair! No make-up and overweight! Her dress sense was terrible. Conflicting patterns worn together were a definite no-no in his book. He’d never looked at her properly before now. He had no need to, Julie was just Julie.

  ‘You need a make-over. My friend does them at his salon.’

  Julie smirked. ‘A make-over! I don’t think so.’

  ‘It would show you how to make the most of what God gave you!’ He laughed at his own humour.

  She smiled. ‘I don’t know about that.’

  Inside she was excited. A make-over. It would be like one of those films where the plain Jane lets down her hair and suddenly she’s a beauty. Julie knew, realistically, she’d never be a beauty, but it would be good to see some improvement. She hadn’t been to a hairdresser for ages, no wonder she looked a wreck.

  ‘Okay. Could you book me in? The holidays start in two weeks’ time. Any day is fine. I can’t believe I’m going to do this.’

  ‘A makeover! How bizarre! I can’t wait. I have to come with you.’

  ‘No, you’re not. I’ll meet you afterwards.’

  ‘Bitch! You spoil all my fun.’

  Chapter 2

  Julie had been shopping for clothes with Paul. He had some strange ideas about what looked good on a women.

  ‘You’re not suggesting that would look good on me, it’d be more suitable for your mother,’ Julie said indignantly, eyeing a flowery blouse he held up.

  Paul returned the item to the rail frowning. ‘Well if you’re going to be like that, there’s not much point in trying to help you.’

  ‘It’s old-fashioned. I’m supposed to be looking more up-to-date; I want to turn heads.’ She picked up a low-cut top. I want a man to spin around and have a double-take, instead of rushing past as if I’m not there.’

  Paul looked sceptical and screwed up his nose. ‘Oh God, you’re not going to start flaunting your chest are you?’