Page 57 of The Billionaire and the Virgin

She tried to pull her hand from his grip, flinching backward.

“Marjorie,” he began.

“Let me go.” He could hear the tears in her voice.

“It’s not what you think—”

“I think you’re ashamed to be seen with me,” Marjorie told him, her voice thick. “That’s what I think. That it’s perfectly okay to date Big Bird when no one sees you with her, right? But the moment someone will, all bets are off.”

“That’s not it at all.”

“No?” She tried to yank her hand out of his again.

“No. I’m not ashamed of you at all. I don’t know why you would think that—”

“Because I’m six foot one, Rob. And because no one has even given me the time of day before I met you. So how am I supposed to think that twenty-four years of nothing is somehow magically changed after a week of your attention?”

“You’re also gorgeous as fuck and my dick gets hard every time I look at you,” he told her. “Don’t believe me? I’m hard for you right now because you’re so fucking beautiful.”

To his surprise, she reached down and grabbed his junk. She looked a little startled to see that he was, indeed, sporting wood. Then she quickly snatched her hand away again. “That could be anything. You could get hard for any woman you saw here.”

“That’s not true. I’ve seen lots of women here and you’re the only one I’m interested in. I haven’t dated anyone seriously in three years—maybe longer—because when they open their mouths, they no longer interest me. But you? You eat up my thoughts all day long. You make me wonder what you’re thinking even when you’re not around me. I’m fucking crazy about you, Marjorie.”

“Then go to the rehearsal dinner with me,” she said in a soft voice.

Fuck. He was cornered, wasn’t he? There was no escaping this trap. “Will nothing else make you happy?”

“No,” she said, and her voice was stubborn. “That’s what I want. I want us to go to the rehearsal dinner together.”

“Then I’ll go.” And put the final nail in his coffin. “For you. If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” she said, and a hesitant smile returned to her mouth. “Is it truly so terrible to go out with me, Rob?”

“It’s not terrible at all.” He pulled her against him, and this time she yielded, putting her arms around his neck so that her body pressed against his. “Like I said, I’m utterly fucking crazy for you, Marjorie. I haven’t felt this way about a woman, ever. It’s probably insane to be thinking about love and relationships after a week of spending time together, but the thought of you leaving me in a few days is like a knife in the gut. I don’t want you to go home to Kansas City. I don’t want you to go to New York. I want you to come to California with me. Come live with me and let us spend time together. I don’t want to be apart from you a single day.”

“Rob,” she said softly. “I... I don’t know.”

“You don’t have to answer it today. Or tomorrow. Just know that the offer stands. That the thought of you leaving me and returning to life without me makes me want to punch something with misery. You’re the only good, decent person in my life.”

“That’s not true,” she protested. “You’re a wonderful person.”

“I’m not,” he said bluntly. “I’m a dick and an asshole and I worry constantly that the moment you see who I really am, you’re going to regret ever knowing me.”

“Never!”

“Never say never, sweetheart.” He cupped her jaw. “I can call you sweetheart still, can’t I?”

She nodded, her eyes shining in the moonlight.

“I missed you today,” he told her in a soft, husky voice. “Felt fucking endless because you weren’t at my side.”

“Today sucked,” she agreed. Her hand moved down the front of his shirt, and to his surprise, she reached down and cupped his dick again. “However... tonight has potential.”

“Marjorie,” he groaned. Had he thought he was hard before? That was nothing compared to how he was now. Her gentle touch turned his dick to steel.

“I want you to make love to me, Rob.” Her mouth hovered near his, a teasing, almost-kiss.

Ah, fuck. That sounded like the best idea—and the worst ever. If he fucked her tonight and she hated him tomorrow, she’d hate him even more. “We can’t, sweetheart.”

---