Page 19 of Taking The Virgin

When I arrive at the massive jet, he isn’t there yet, so I take a look around at the galley near the front of the plane. Then I wander toward the back where there’s a bedroom with naval-blue trimming and dark-wooded shelving. It’s connected to an office with a massive chrome desk and lots of communications devices, the walls lined with books. Nearby, there’s also a resting area with a massage table along with what looks to be a small conference room where Owen probably holds meetings when using this jet for business.

I know when he boards the plane because there’s a lot of activity. The engine begins to warm up, and the flight attendant comes to fetchme.

Owen is standing there like the captain, talking on his phone. He gestures toward the couch where I sat on the trip here, and I don’t give him any resistance this time before I settle ontoit.

He ends the call and slides his phone into a pocket inside his jacket. “My attorneys assure me that they will draw up a contract for our new arrangement. We’ll both sign it in the morning after they sendit.”

So I won’t even need to leave his fantastic mansion, and I’m cool with that. Then something occurs to me. “So I’m not under contract tonight, huh?”

“Correct. Until the document is signed, you’re free to do as you please.” He takes a seat across from the couch and buckles in, as cool as a flow of winterair.

I measure the distance between us. So now that he has me again, he’s just going to go back to being Dr. Icicles?

The distance only seems to grow after we take off, then fly through the night skies. I keep looking over at Owen, but he’s immersed in something he’s reading on his tablet. I’m excited by the combination of his hard-to-get silence and the fact that he wanted me enough to extend our agreement, and I run my gaze over him. I revel in that thick, dark hair, that face with such strong features, that tall, amazing body that’s covered by his debonairsuit.

Yearning brushes through me, light and soft and dangerously hot. It swirls in my belly, melts down to my pussy, pierces my clit until I press my thighs together, which makes things worse, not better.

He said I was free to do as I liked tonight, but what I like is him. My primal instincts want me to be fucked, defiled, and taken by him again and again…

As I continue watching him, I see a change in his expression as he keeps reading his tablet. He’s getting angry about something. I can see it in his eyes. And it’s the same kind of angry I saw in him last night just before he moodily left myroom.

He abruptly stands, and I can tell he’s trying to keep himself from losing that control ofhis.

I pull out an earbud. “Is something wrong?”

“Nothing that a good shower won’t handle,” he says tightly. Then he calms himself. “Personal matters. All I need is a little stress relief. Are you in need of anything at the moment?”

“I’mfine.”

He gives me a brusque nod, then stalks away soundlessly toward the back of thejet.

I watch him go, baffled. Then I get up and look at the tablet’s screen but it’s blank.

Personal matters?

My heart seems to ache in my chest. I don’t like the thought of him being so stressed.

I smile to myself. Admit it, Juliet, you’re craving the opportunity to do something aboutit.

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear and blow out a breath, but it does nothing to still my pulsating heart. Eventually, I muster the courage to give it a shot, hoping I won’t be rejected yet again, reminding myself that he has paid an awful lot of money for my company this next month.

Getting out of my seat, I walk down the passageway that leads to a more private part of the jet, the whining, speeding engine mocking the stream of hot blood through my veins.

I move through his office with its huge chrome desk. The room is lit only by the faint light from the bedroom, and I stop my music, then take another deep, shuddering inhalation before I walk inside, close the door behind me, take out my earbud, and put my phone on hisbed.

He hasn’t closed the door to the bathroom, and as I peer into it, I can see a hint of him through the filmy glass of the shower stall.

At the sight of his barely hidden form—his magnificently tall, rocked body—I rest my hand against the wall. My knees shake as I strain to breathe through the steam.

Fucked, defiled, and taken by him again and again…

My pulse batters me as I slip off my shoes. My fingers tremble while unbuttoning my simple dress. The flowered fabric falls to the floor in a pool around my bare feet, and all that’s left is my thin cotton bra and panties.

This feels insane, risky…and amazing.

He’s seen you naked before, I think. So why are you hesitating?

Because even though I’m not a virgin now, I still don’t know what I’m doing.

He’s gone still in the shower. It’s as if he’s sensed me, then spotted me, a predator who’s not as hidden as he wanted tobe.

The hiss of the water marks the seconds that pass—one strangled heartbeat…two…

When the shower door crashes open, I startle, my hands fisted at my sides as I come face to face withOwen.

In his eyes, I see a reflection of the dirty girl he called me last night. He’s got to see what I want in my gaze, what I feel in every breath I struggle totake.

Before my next booming heartbeat, he reaches for me, pulling me inside the running shower, capturing me in a spiral of wetheat.

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