The Billionaire and the Virgin(54)
“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 f*cking 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 * 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 f*cking 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, f*ck. That sounded like the best idea—and the worst ever. If he f*cked her tonight and she hated him tomorrow, she’d hate him even more. “We can’t, sweetheart.”
“We can,” she told him again, and rubbed her hand up and down his shaft, her touch so good that he had to pause and pull her hand away or else he’d start humping her leg like a f*cking dog.
“You’re a virgin. We should wait so you don’t make any rash decisions.”
Her fingers moved to his collar instead, and began unbuttoning his shirt. Christ, was his little virgin seducing him? She was far too f*cking good at that and he was having a hell of a time resisting. “I don’t know,” she said. “I think twenty-four years seems slow enough for me.”
Damn, she had a point. “I don’t want to rush you.”
“I wish you would. I’ve been waiting for you to pounce on me.” She pressed her fingers inside his shirt, against his skin. “It makes me feel sexy to know I can drive you crazy.”
This was pretty much every man’s dream . . . so why did he have that sense of looming disaster? He wanted Marjorie, she wanted him. This should have been ideal. But again, Rob felt trapped. If he didn’t sleep with Marjorie now, she’d think he was lying about finding her sexy. Her fragile ego would be crushed, and the relationship would be in ashes.
As opposed to tomorrow, when it would be in ashes for completely different reasons.
She leaned in, pressed a kiss to his neck, his collarbones. “I don’t want to leave this island without completely knowing you, Rob. And I don’t want to leave a virgin. I’ve found the man I want to be with.”
And really, there was no choice for him after hearing that. Marjorie was his. She wanted to be his. He wanted her, too.
“If you’re sure—”
She kissed him. Open mouth, tongue seeking his. It wasn’t a virginal kiss—it was a kiss asking for more.
Well, all right, then. He grabbed her and hauled her against him, picking her up. Just like he’d dreamed so many times, those long legs went around his waist and she wrapped her arms around his shoulders, not breaking the kiss.
“Let’s go to my room,” he told her. “I have condoms up there.”
Chapter Twenty
He didn’t carry her all the way back to his room. As much as he’d wanted to, Marjorie had blushed and insisted otherwise. They’d walked back, hand in hand, instead. They were quiet, but it wasn’t an uncomfortable quiet. Rather, it was an anticipatory one.
When they got into the hotel, Rob looked over at Marjorie. “Did you want to go back to your room to get anything?”
She shook her head, eyes shining. She looked so goddamn thrilled. Why couldn’t he shake the feeling that he was doing something incredibly dickish? He was cornered either way. He was going to either lose Marjorie tonight, or lose her tomorrow. This way he at least made her happy, right?
He’d just have to deal with the fallout.
They went up to his suite and Rob locked the door and set the latch.
He turned around. “Marjorie, if you’re sure—”
“Quit asking me if I’m sure. I’m absolutely sure,” she told him, and tore at the front of his shirt, ripping the buttons open.