Page 26 of Keeping The Virgin

Chapter 9

I can hearthe 50s music from the ice cream shop playing outside the door that just closed on me. I can still feel Cage’s hands on me from the intense, heart-stopping sexual encounter we just had.

At the same time, I keep hearing what he told me in such a distant voice.

This can’t continue.

Without thinking, I open the door to the hallway. I see him entering the main section of the ice cream shop, his tall, intimidating body like a dark spot against the light of the bigger room.

I go after him, but his strides are so long that I don’t catch up until we’re outside on the sidewalk.

A mild, humid breeze blows, and I push down the hem of my dress. I don’t want my skirt blowing up to reveal that I don’t have my panties on underneath. Even worse, I’m about to blow up.

“What do you mean, ‘this can’t continue’?” I shout.

He comes to a tense halt near the street corner where the crosswalk signal is green. From the way he’s standing, I can tell he’s got a bitter set to his mouth, as if he knew I’d catch up to him and I wouldn’t let this go.

Is the damned playboy so good at leaving women behind that he thought he could do it with me, too?

I thread through the people on the sidewalk, forging a path toward Cage. “Why did you say that to me?”

He turns around, and the mere sight of him hits me like I’ve collided head-on with my lust. That thick, devilish hair. The dark brows over a panty-dropping gaze. That massive hard body under the immaculate suit.

This man was so, so close to screwing me, and I still ache for it to happen, no matter how he’s treating me.

“Calm down, Karini,” he says, his voice carrying.

A few people glance at him, their gazes lingering before they go about their New-York business. But I couldn’t care less if we’re putting on a show as I approach him and he casually moves toward the drug store on the corner then stands by the brick wall. He looks down at me with a condescending air, but I know there’s something else there. Heat that can’t quite be covered by the layer of ice he’s trying to put on.

“You want me to calm down?” I ask.

“Yes. I’ll pay you all the money I promised, but if you know what’s best for you, you’ll leave and get as far away from me as possible.”

Is he serious?

The sassy part of me wants to laugh. But the other part is hurt. I mean, what we just did… How intensely we did it…

It didn’t mean a damned thing to him?

Maybe I’m more emotional than I thought after our fierce encounter, because my need swarms me, my throat tight, tears blurring my vision.

It has to be my post-orgasm hormones.

As a rush of tears trickles down my cheek, I angrily swipe them away. Then I start to run. I don’t know where, but I don’t want him to see me this way.

“Karini!” I hear him yell.

But I don’t stop, not even when I hear footsteps behind me on the sidewalk and feel a hand on my shoulder. Suddenly I’m being whipped around, his fingers pressing into me as he looms over me. All I can see through my tears are his eyes. They’re clear right now, and as I realize that he feels like shit for talking to me like that, I stop trying to get away.

I do, however, shrug his damned hands off of me.

“Don’t do this,” he says.

“Do what?”

He clenches his jaw until a muscle ticks in his cheek. He seems to search for words.

Cage Bryant, speechless.

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