#Babymachine (Baby Crazy 1)

“Now about virginity. I assume you meant female virginity right? This membrane is called —”

Mr. Carlton cut me off immediately.

“I’m sorry, Beth,” he drawled casually, covering the photo with his hand so that the picture was obscured. “But this isn’t what I need.”

Oh no. I screwed up already. Oh no, was I gonna be fired so soon?

“What – what do you mean?” came my helpless stammer. “Did you mean male virginity? If so, I can do some more studying ….”

But Mr. Carlton shook his head slowly.

“I mean, I’m not so good with books,” he drawled, voice low and deep. The syllables alone sent chills up my thighs and down my back, like a slow and steady caress. “That’s why I asked you up here.”

I felt like an idiot but what was he talking about? What was he saying? And why didn’t he move his hand? His wide fingers over the diagram of a hymen were doing strange things to me. There wasn’t enough moisture in my mouth, the air oddly dry.

“You’re not so good with books? But – but you’re the CEO of Carlton Corporation. I don’t understand.”

He leaned back, massive male body at ease.

“I’ve never been great with reading small print. It could be my eyes, or it could be undiagnosed dyslexia.” He shrugged like revealing something so personal to a near stranger was no big deal. “But I’m good with execution, putting a plan in place. People pay me the big bucks for that shit.” A finger tapped lazily against the table top.

I was totally lost, and yet couldn’t stop staring at his fingers. They were powerful but elegant, with clean, neatly trimmed nails. Taking a deep breath, my voice blurted out.

“I’m sorry, but what’s execution? Are- are you talking about corporate stuff?”

His mouth curved sensually.

“Could be, but not always. Execution, you know, like making it real.”

I stammered something, I wasn’t even sure what. Was my face red? It felt like it definitely, cheeks steamy and hot.

But Mr. Carlton leaned closer then, another tantalizing whiff of male essence drifting to my nostrils.

“I’m looking to research virginity,” he drawled, “and I thought you might be able to put images to words.”

“Yes, of course,” I piped up quickly. Was he trying to confuse me on purpose? With the big male so close, I could barely focus on breathing, much less the sentences coming out of his mouth. “I’m here, and I thought these books and diagrams could help. But what do you mean by putting images to words?”

“I need your help in a different way, Beth.”

The way he said my name almost made me pass out. This man was criminally sexy.

But business is business, and I needed this job. So staring at him, I bit my lip. A different way? What did that mean? But did it really matter?

“Yes, Mr. Carlton, I’m happy to do whatever you ask,” came my dulcet reply. “Just let me know.”

And with that, the billionaire grinned wolfishly.

“I need to see things live,” he rumbled. “I need to live in the present, and what would help is if you showed me your virginity.”

My brain went into freeze mode, completely shutting down before firing back up with a jolt

“What?” came my stammer. “What are you talking about?”

But his eyes bored into mine, bright blue and hypnotic. That masculine scent washed over me once more.

“Beth sweetheart, you know exactly what I’m talking about. Virginity means that you’ve got a thin piece of tissue in your pretty pussy that’s unbroken. You have that, correct?”

What? What what what? That was none of his business! My mind whirled madly, the floor literally tilting up towards my face. I was an employee, not some kind of doll to be played with.

But that’s the thing. Workplaces are so confusing now, the lines between personal and professional blurred. What was okay and what wasn’t? What should I be aware of, and what was crossing the line?

But unfortunately, hard truths are often starkly clear. Because I needed this job. I needed the money and flexibility of being a librarian, and my dreams would be dashed to smithereens if I was fired now, everything swirling down the drain if the paychecks stopped.

So nodding, I confirmed his question.

“Yes,” was my whispered reply. “Yes, I still have my hymen.”

Mr. Carlton shifted in his chair, growling deep in his throat. “Then I’d appreciate it very much if you’d show it to me.”

For a long time, I couldn’t move. Not a muscle in my body stirred, shock freezing my muscles. But under the table, my thighs squeezed together, a jolt of energy racing through my most private parts.

This wasn’t right. This was absolutely a no-no. I shouldn’t feel excited or turned-on. There were no workplace rules that said I had to do this. So summoning my courage, I spoke then.

“No, I can’t,” came my desperate plea. “I’m just a librarian, I can’t be doing this. Definitely not.” But the last of my words fizzled out because inside, my body was telling a different story. Deep within, my pussy loosened and softened, clit growing hard and stiff.