Virgin's Sweet Rebellion

‘That’s what I want. Just because I’m a virgin doesn’t mean I’m angling for a wedding ring, Ben.’ She kept her voice tart because his warning had hurt just a little, even if she understood it. Agreed with it.

Sort of.

‘Good.’

‘I want to stay focused on my career right now,’ she said firmly. ‘And have some amazing sex. So do you think you can oblige?’

Ben’s mouth quirked up in a smile. ‘I think I can, as long as you understand...’

‘Enough with the warnings,’ she cut across him. ‘You’re not going to break my heart, okay?’ At least, she hoped he wasn’t. Because she wasn’t at all sure she believed what she’d just said.

‘Good.’

‘So...’ She held out her arms, half expecting him to reach for her and head for the bedroom. ‘What now?’

Ben rubbed his jaw thoughtfully. ‘Well, I can’t pretend this doesn’t change things a little.’

‘It doesn’t have to...’

‘I’m not going to make love with you tonight.’

Make love. Words that sent a shivery thrill running through her, even as disappointment followed in its wake as his meaning registered. ‘Why not?’

‘Because a first time ought to be special.’

‘Oh, please.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘I’m not sixteen and in search of hearts and roses. Besides, I bet most women’s first times aren’t special at all. They’re probably in the back of a car or a cheap hotel room after prom.’

‘Maybe I want this to be special.’

Olivia nearly guffawed. ‘Yeah, right.’

He looked intent in a whole different way then. ‘Seriously, Olivia. Why shouldn’t it be? Remember what I said about the limo?’

‘If we’re going to do it, do it right?’

‘Exactly.’

‘And I suppose you mean that literally now.’

‘Of course.’

She took a deep breath, plunged. ‘Fine. When, then?’

‘You free tomorrow night?’

‘For sex? I suppose.’

‘Good.’ He reached for her then, tugging on her hands, drawing her to him. She came slowly, a little reluctantly, because this all felt so strange and yet also oddly right. He framed her face with his hands, tucking a stray tendril of hair behind her ear, his touch so tender that Olivia felt tears sting her eyes. She hadn’t expected that. ‘I’ll pick you up at seven,’ he said, and kissed her.

It was a soft, sweet kiss, a gentle kiss, a kiss of promise rather than intent. ‘See you tomorrow,’ he whispered against her lips, and then he was gone.

* * *

Olivia Harrington was a virgin. So not what he’d been expecting from that conversation. Ben shook his head in bemused disbelief. He never would have guessed it in a million years, which just showed what a good actress she really was. Since the moment he’d met her she had projected an air of saucy, sexual experience. Not complete innocence.

And yet he couldn’t condemn her for being fake, at least not in that regard. No, if anything, he saw it as bravery. It was hard to be something you didn’t always feel inside. He knew that all too well.

Olivia might be hiding her inexperience and nervousness, but he was hiding something far more dangerous. His anger. The kind of rage that had nearly killed a man. And he was afraid, with his emotions scraped so raw, he wouldn’t have as tight a rein on his emotion as he normally did. Hell, he already knew he didn’t.

But that had nothing to do with him and Olivia.

He suffered a moment’s hesitation at taking Olivia’s virginity, but then he shrugged it aside. She was twenty-six years old and she wanted to have sex. He wanted to be the man to show her. And when it came to their time together, he’d make sure it was as sweet and gentle and wonderful as he could make it.

CHAPTER EIGHT

WHAT TO WEAR for your first time? Underwear clearly was key, and Olivia had raced out to the Galeries Lafayette in Berlin to purchase some high-end lingerie. She’d roved through the racks of silk and satin, spending far too much time debating her choice. Nothing too racy or debauched, she decided as she moved past the black lace bustiers and the fire-engine-red see-through push-up bra and thong. Such get-ups would just make her look like she was trying too hard to be something Ben now knew very well she was not.

For the same reason she decided against the modest white lace negligees and demure nighties. No need to state the obvious either.

Which left her with very few options unfortunately.

‘Looking for something special?’ A saleswoman coasted up to her and Olivia suppressed a groan. Yes, as a matter of fact, she was, but she didn’t feel like admitting it to this woman—or to anyone.