His Virgin

By: Nikki Chase

“You're Caine Foster, Sir.”

“I see you’ve learned how to properly address me. Don't you think this is better, when I don't have to use a loud voice or harsh words to get you to do the things you're supposed to do anyway?”

I glare at him for a split second, forgetting that I’m potentially risking $5,000 by getting drawn into an argument with him.

Get a grip. Keep your cool and you’ll go home with almost enough money to pay off Chad Murray, I tell myself.

“I don't know about that, Sir.” I wish I could lie and tell him what he wants to hear, but something tells me that would be a risky move.

“Interesting answer,” he says.

Caine takes another step closer, bursting my bubble of personal space. He doesn’t say anything, which only makes it feel more intrusive. It's like he feels entitled to my person, like he believes he has the right to get closer without even asking.

Before I can even think about it, I lean back and, thanks to my high heels, lose my balance. A steady hand lands on the small of my back, keeping me on my feet. Electricity spreads from the warm spot where Caine's hand touches my bare back and crackles throughout my body, making me tingle all over.

Suddenly, I find myself in his arms, my chest pressed up against his body, the fine fabric of his suit soft on my skin. When I look up, Caine has a cocky smirk on his face. He's balancing the tray with his free hand.

“Careful, Daisy. Considering how much more friendly the other girls are, you don't want to drop your tray. That could get you fired.”

I look up at him, heat spreading across my cheeks. He's so close, and the way he says my name feels overly familiar. He's just as rude and condescending as he was last week at the hospital.

I should be angry. I should shout at him and tell him to leave me alone. I was doing my job just fine before he came and got me all flustered.

But all I can think about is how good it feels being held by him. His body is firm, hard. I get the urge to run my hands down his chest to trace the contours of his body, the ridges and valleys of his chest and abs. He smells like expensive whiskey and musky perfume.

His very closeness is intoxicating. The way I get overwhelmed by my own body's reactions to him, it's like I’m drunk on his presence.

I shiver as Caine lightly drags his long, graceful fingers down my spine. It becomes hard just to breathe, let alone think. He leans in, his stubble grazing my cheek as he does. I can feel the warmth emanating from his body, and it makes me want to just melt into his touch.

“Want to take this somewhere more private?” Caine whispers in my ear, his breath hot on my neck, sending a jolt of pleasure straight to the juncture of my thighs.

His words jolt me awake. As tempting as it is, I don't want to lose my virginity to a stranger at a party where I’m working...or do I?

Hard as it is, I tear myself away from Caine. I put one hand against his chest, feeling his heartbeats on my palm. His deep blue eyes invite me to dive in deeper, but I push away from him.

“I should go.” My voice comes out shaky, but I don't care anymore if he realizes how affected I am. He was so close he could probably tell by my goosebumps and shivers.

“Not so fast.” He grabs my wrist, making me gasp. How can such a light touch knock the wind out of me?

I eye him suspiciously.

“As far as I know, Dr. Pratt doesn't look too kindly upon moonlighting.” He stares intensely into my eyes. He looks like he has a devious plot in his mind, the way he's baring his teeth like the Cheshire cat.

“What's your point?” I snap. I don't care anymore about politeness, even though earlier tonight the manager emphasized again and again that we need to be the perfect maids, obedient and eager to please.

All I know is I need to get away before this man devours me. If I stay too long, I might offer myself to him voluntarily, and I’m not sure that would be wise.

“There she is,” he says, again with that lopsided smirk. He chuckles. “Is a nurse’s salary not enough for you, my wild flower?”

“That's none of your business.”

“Careful. Dr. Pratt is a good friend of mine. I’m sure he'd appreciate me telling him about a young member of his staff who's breaking the rules,” he threatens in a low voice as smooth as the whiskey on his breath.

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