Page 40 of The Billionaire and the Virgin

“Not your sweetheart,” she said automatically.

“Not yet,” he agreed. They kissed one more time, and then he left her for the evening, and she went back to her room, flopped down on the bed, and touched her fingertips to her mouth.

They’d only kissed. Rob had been a perfect gentleman.

Why was that so thrilling and so disappointing all at once? Why did she want so much more? Wasn’t she waiting for love? Not lust? She’d waited this long, what was a few dates more, right?

But... she kind of wanted to see if Rob was interested in experiencing other bases with her. Hugging her pillow against her front, Marjorie thought about their next date.

She wanted more than just a kiss. Now... how to get it?

Chapter Fifteen

As he left Marjorie at her doorstep, Rob adjusted his aching cock and headed into the elevator, toward his new room under the name Ron Glasscock. His time with Marjorie had been a pleasant idyll tinged with aching every time she laughed or licked her lips, or brushed up against him, because he wanted her with an intensity that was driving him mad.

But he had to play it carefully, because she was a virgin. He didn’t want to scare her away. He’d go slow, even if it killed him.

By the time he got back to his room, his cock was aching even more. Time for his nightly jerk-off session to Marjorie. But first, a call.

One of his assistants picked up. Smith. “Yes, sir?”

“TheTitscrew. They’re filming here, right?”

“I believe so, sir.”

“One of them approached Marjorie.MyMarjorie.”

“I take it she wasn’t flattered, sir?”

“No. Absolutely fucking not. She was devastated. You tell those jackasses that if they come near her again, I will fucking ram their cameras down their goddamn throats, understand?”

“Understood, sir,” Smith’s voice was cool. “Whom shall I describe for them to avoid?”

“She’s fucking six feet tall, Smith. Tell them to avoid any girls that are taller than them. Christ!” He terminated the call, and when that didn’t feel like it had enough oomph, he went to the room phone and slammed it in the cradle, over and over again.

His own fucking crew. His own goddamn crew made the woman he liked feel like she was attacked. Jesus fucking Christ.

How was he ever going to tell her what he did for a living?

Rob groaned and rubbed his face, his erection gone.

***

“How do I get a guy to notice me?” Marjorie asked at the bridesmaids’ breakfast four days later, her fork toying with her scrambled eggs. The long table in the private dining hall was filled with Brontë’s bridesmaids... well, minus Angie, who’d found a new guy while hanging out at the resort and was spending all her time with him instead of the bridal party. In her seat sat Violet DeWitt, who was dating one of the groomsmen and was becoming a close friend of Brontë’s.

All the women turned and stared at Marjorie as she spoke, and the table got quiet. Inwardly, she quailed, but she forced herself to repeat the question. “I want a guy to really, really notice me. How do I swing that?”

“Boobs,” Gretchen said between mouthfuls of fruit. “Guys love boobs.”

Audrey rolled her eyes and pulled off a corner of her dry toast. “You’ll have to forgive my sister, Marj. She doesn’t believe in things like ‘politeness’ or ‘filters.’”

“Sure I do,” Gretchen said. “But I believe in honesty more.” She pointed her fork at Marjorie. “Boobs. Trust me.”

“Or legs,” Violet called across the table. “Some men like legs, and I bet yours does, Marjorie.”

“You’re not helping,” Audrey said, but a smile dimpled her round face.

“A good blow job,” Maylee chimed in.

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