Page 30 of Taking The Virgin

Issomething real happening betweenus?

When Caddyshack finishes, I’m nearly giddy, and not just because I’ve laughed so much at the funny movie. I’m hoping Owen will kiss me, much in a way that a hero from other eighties movies would kiss his girl after the prom or the big footballgame.

But he merely stands from his seat, extending a hand to help meup.

I take it, anticipation breathing through me. Maybe he’ll kiss me in the limo, andthen…

I don’t know what to expect anymore.

On the way out of the theater, he keeps his hand on my back, leaving behind a burning imprint that spreads its heat over my skin, underit.

“Did you like the film?” heasks.

There’s almost a boyish quality to his question as we walk through the lobby. I can tell he wants me to like the movie as much as hedid.

“Loved it,” I say. “My parents used to watch old movies like this, and I’d tune in every once in a while, but I never thought to do it on myown.”

“That’s because you young people have no appreciation for old things.”

“Hey, you’re not much older than Iam!”

I tweak his belly—my god, he’s rocked up—and he latches his fingers around my wrist.

We stop walking, pausing right there in the middle of the empty lobby with its framed movie posters and concession stand. As he looks down at me, I see that certain something in his gaze again, and it sends a quiver throughme.

He likes me, I think. He doesn’t only want my body. He actually had as much fun with me on a real date as I did withhim.

Then, as if he remembers the fuss I put up earlier about not being his sex robot, he lets go of me, and we start walking again.

Me and my big mouth, talking about sex robots and everything. But doesn’t he realize there’s a difference between sex and what’s going on now? Is he truly that removed from normal human emotions?

As we ride home in the limo, he makes more conversation, asking about what sorts of movies I like, but all I can think about is his lips onmine.

If he’s purposely sitting next to me like such a gentleman and keeping his hands to himself in the hopes that it’ll get me hot for him, it’s working. I want to feel him inside me, pumping, fucking me until I’m his wet, screaming dirty littlegirl.

But I’m too bashful to make a move, so it’s a long ridehome.

When we arrive at his mansion, the night air has cooled significantly, and as I rub my arms on the way to the stoop of his brownstone, he stopsme.

“Here,” he says, taking off his blazer and wrapping it aroundme.

This time I don’t get goose bumps from the weather—it’s because of his thoughtfulness. There are hundreds of adoring, lustful prickles sweeping down my arms, even if I’m enclosed in the warm, heady, clean-smelling comfort of his blazer.

I can’t wait to get up to a bedroom.

After he ushers me into his home, we slowly head toward the elevator. We stop in front of it. I’m wracked with trembles, which line my belly like tiny earthquakes, and I cling to his blazer around me, fending off the yearning I’m feeling forhim.

I’m damp, hopeful, needful.

“Thank you for a really nice night,” Isay.

Something flares in his gaze, and my body responds with a brutal tug at my clit. As he leans toward me, I close my eyes, holding my breath.

It’s happening, I think. He’s going to give it to me until we’re both a dirty, wonderfulmess…

Then I feel his lips tenderly press against mine. Soft, slow, filling me up with a pulse of warmth.

As he retreats, I open my eyes, bewildered. He must see how much I want him to fuck me, but now he’s doing everything he can to give me space.

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