The Virgin Duet - Page 6/48

“I’ll text it to you. What’s your number?” I ask, pulling out my cell.

“Don’t have one. Just write it down and I’ll find it.”

I add getting her a phone to my to-do list. It will be a good way to keep tabs on her. I’ll always know where she is.

“I’ll have my driver take you. I insist,” I say, writing down my address anyway. I don’t know why but I really want her to have it.

“Don’t. I need to go home and get some things first? Maybe, like a shirt?” she says, and looks down at her bra.

“I can have someone retrieve your things, and give your brother the information on your new arrangement.” I look down at her cleavage again, and I know there’s no way I am letting her walk through the building like that. I also don’t want to risk her changing her mind. She agreed already, so there’s no going back.

“Whoa, calm down. I’ll just get my stuff tomorrow if it’s going to be a big deal.”

“Okay,” I agree hesitantly. I guess I have to make some concessions. “In the meantime, please wear my shirt so that you won’t have to walk around with only your underwear on.” It’s taking everything inside me not to hold her down and wrestle it on her myself. I don’t want anyone else seeing her like that. I feel my jaw clench when I think about her walking up to my office practically naked.

“Fine. But you didn’t win this round. I’m only allowing this because…well. Because.”

I fight the smile pulling at my lips and retrieve the shirt from the floor for a second time. I walk over and she turns her back to me while I help her put it on. When she has her arms through the sleeves she turns, and locks eyes with me while she buttons it slowly.

My cock is still hard, but now I can feel my heartbeat in my pants. My face feels hot and I start to twitch again as she puts another button through a buttonhole. It’s as if she reads my mind when her little tongue comes out and licks her full bottom lip, leaving a trail of wetness behind. I look at her pink glossy lips and I know if I kissed her, she would leave sparkles all over my face.

“Pixie dust,” I whisper and she cocks her head to the side.

“What’d you say?”

I break the spell and take a step back, realizing I said it out loud. “Nothing. We should go. I have an itinerary to keep.” I say, and walk out of my office. I need to find the air in this building. Apparently there isn’t any left in my office.

“So, you’re like Patrick Bateman right?”

“Who?” I ask as I give Rebecca the tour.

“Dude. American Psycho? Hello. Super neat freak, corporate murderer. Just asking because I don’t really want to end up being chased down a stairwell with a chainsaw or anything when I insult your business card.”

I have no idea what she’s talking about so I just continue with the tour.

Rebecca rode in the back of the town car with me in silence. I think she was just as nervous as I was. It probably didn’t help that I got on the phone with the coffee shop manager and fired him for sexual harassment. I’m sure she was happy to see him go, but she seemed uncomfortable being present while I did it. She’s lucky I had an overwhelming desire to get her in my home or I would’ve paid him a visit.

As always when we reach my building, Hank let me out, and then went back to the vehicle. He knows that almost no one is welcome inside my home, so I assume any questions he has about Rebecca, he is smart enough to keep to himself.

I said hello to Claude, the daytime doorman and overall manager of the building’s entrance. There are four other doormen who work here, but Claude is the only one I deal with. It is extremely unusual for him to see me twice in one day. Normally he’s here at five a.m. when I’m leaving for work, but the night guard is who normally greets me on my way home late in the evenings. Claude has been a doorman for decades, so anything out of the ordinary is taken in stride. He greeted Rebecca and me with courtesy, as if this is an everyday occurrence and not an oddity. I added a mental note to email him and give Rebecca full security access. I also reminded myself to beef up his Christmas bonus. Professionalism goes a long way with me.

Once Rebecca and I are inside the penthouse, I show her through the place. When you first step off the elevator there's a foyer with two large double doors. I give Rebecca my spare key, and let her know to keep it close. Claude has a key that will work in an emergency, so Rebecca is the only other person besides Hank who has the ability to enter my home. People can get off the elevator and come to the front door, but access inside is limited.

I take Rebecca through the door and show her the open floor plan. The large living space is surrounded by windows with views of the city. I love this space, and it’s a good thing, since I spend every moment I’m not at work in it. But for some reason I want her to like it too. I want her approval.

When I finish showing her the kitchen, dining room and gym, it’s time to show her the bedrooms. I have apprehensions about this because I know I’ll feel the tension of having her in my space. No one besides me has been in my bedroom, so I am preparing for the inevitable panic attack.

“So this is the dragon's lair?” she asks when I open the door to the master suite.

“This is where I sleep, yes,” I say, and brace myself for the anxiety.

Rebecca pushes by me and walks over to my bed. The master suite is quite large, with the bed in the middle of the room. I wanted to be able to face the city when I slept and this was the only way I could control that. She makes a full circle around the bed and then eventually sits on the edge of it. She looks so comfortable in my space. Like she belongs here. I feel my chest warm, and I almost want to laugh. I’ve caught a fairy.