Chapter 5
5
VIOLET
I couldn’t stop thinking about Josiah. After a half hour or so, I was starting to think maybe I’d been wrong in what I told him. Hiding out here at work didn’t help me escape the loneliness. I felt lonelier here than I had in a long time.
The sound of a car door closing jerked my attention away from my screen. It reminded me I’d been staring at it for no telling how long, not even processing the words in front of me or doing anything with them. I was just sitting there, reliving my evening with the best-looking guy I’d ever seen.
Frowning, I returned my attention to the screen. I put both hands on the keyboard, which was something I did in broad daylight when I thought another agent might be joining me. But nobody came into the office this late. Nobody but me.
I moved my hands to my lap and turned the chair until I was facing the door. Should I call the police? Maybe I should look for something I could use as a weapon.
The door suddenly swung open, and I gasped. My desk was the closest to it, so I was usually the one in charge of greeting any walk-ins if other people were in the office. There was a big smile on my face. I realized that when it froze there, leaving me looking like a big goof.
The man walking through that door was not a future or current client. No, this was a former client. This was Josiah.
“I thought you might want some company,” he said.
I should say something clever. Maybe even flirtatious. I tried to come up with the right words, but I was drawing a blank that left me just sitting there, staring at him like a moron.
“I don’t want to interrupt your work,” he continued when I still didn’t speak. He took a step back toward the door, which still sat open.
I shook my head. “You’re not interrupting.”
I gestured toward my screen but said nothing. I hadn’t been doing anything, really. Nothing but thinking about him, and I couldn’t say that.
He shut the door, facing it as he did. When he turned back to me, shoving his hands into his front pockets, I realized something. He was nervous. This tall, muscular, gorgeous guy was actually nervous. Somehow, that gave me confidence. I pushed myself to my feet, rubbing my palms on my skirt as though to smooth it down, and looked around.
“I’d offer to give you a tour, but there’s not much to see,” I said. “This is pretty much it.”
“Kind of like my cabin.” He laughed. “Aside from the two bedrooms and bathroom, you can stand at the front door and get the full experience.”
I nodded. “Exactly. Only this is more boring. Just a bunch of desks with computers on them. There’s a copier in the back and, believe it or not, a fax machine. My boss got it used, just in case.”
What was I carrying on about? He couldn’t care less about this stuff.
“I’ve seen worse,” he said with a laugh. “I was in the military, remember?”
“Yeah.” I smiled. “You want something to drink? We have bottled waters in the fridge.”
He shook his head. “That’s okay.”
He was looking around—everywhere but at me. I felt an awkwardness between us, like neither of us knew what move to make next.
I knew what move I wanted to make. I was having fantasies about crossing the distance between us and pressing my body against his as he lowered his mouth to mine. His hands would go to my back, pulling me toward him.
But I didn’t dare initiate that. What if I walked toward him and he gave me a strange look and asked what I was doing?
That reminded me of something. I’d seen a hint of darkness in his eyes as he mentioned his military experience. I’d noticed that a lot with the men around this town. They didn’t talk about their pasts, but it was there. Their haunted expressions gave away what they were hiding.
“I thought a lot about our conversation,” he said. “Life is short. Sitting in my cabin alone, thinking about you?—”
He didn’t finish that. He just moved his hands from his pockets and spread his arms wide. Was that his way of demonstrating all the things he couldn’t say? Maybe they didn’t need to be said.
As our eyes met, those words went through my mind. Something was communicated in the look we shared. It was beyond words. It was beyond anything I’d ever experienced before.
And then we were both moving. We came together as if we’d quietly agreed to do so. We met, our arms immediately going around each other, our lips coming together in a kiss that was several hours overdue.
We quickly made up for lost time. His hands slid under my jacket and up the back of my silky blouse. I wanted to feel his fingers on my bare skin. I was almost overwhelmed by the need. But instead, I focused on the kiss and on the feel of his hard-muscled shoulders beneath my touch. It was like coming home.
He moaned as I pressed my body closer to him, rising on tiptoe and arching my back to get as close as I could. That was when I felt my shirt being pulled from the waistband of my skirt. His hand was moving up, up, up. And then it was on the small of my back, sliding over my bare skin, making me warm all over.
Removing my hands from his neck, I lowered my arms and shrugged off my jacket, letting it fall to the ground. Disappointment flooded my body when his hand moved away. But I felt it again within seconds—on my buttons. Both his hands were between us, stopping me from pressing my body tightly against his as it had been. The cool air hit my bare skin as he removed my shirt.
For the past couple of years, I’d watched as, one by one, my friends met the men of their dreams, wondering why that could never be me. Not once in my life had a man looked at me the way Josiah did. And that was partly why I was still a virgin. I would not accept less than the spark I had with him. Even if it didn’t work out, this would be the most incredible experience of my life.
God, I hoped it worked out, though.
When his fingers began fumbling with my bra clasp, things got real. I had to tell him I was a virgin. He might not want to continue. He was a gentleman, so at the very least, he’d probably insist on waiting until we could make this romantic.
I didn’t want to wait. I wanted him, and I couldn’t wait another second.
The bra fell easily to the floor, but the sight of it made me aware that he was wearing too many clothes. I broke the kiss and stepped back, gripping his T-shirt in both hands. I tugged it upward, and he lifted his arms, helping me jerk it over his head so he could toss it to the floor.
I couldn’t stop staring at him. He was perfect. Every muscle defined, like a statue that had been carefully sculpted. But what was most amazing was the heat in his eyes as he looked at me.
This man wanted me. I got tingly just thinking about it.
I reached back and unbuttoned my skirt, letting it fall to the ground. I was trying to work up the nerve to tell him, but I didn’t want to dull that fire in his eyes. I had a feeling that was exactly what my words would do.
He put a hand on each of my upper arms and looked me in the eye. I knew instantly he was about to say something serious.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked.
My eyes widened. “You can tell, can’t you?”
When he frowned, I knew I’d misjudged the question. He hadn’t been ramping up to suggest we go back to his place to make my first time romantic. No, he’d simply been asking.
“Tell what?” he asked.
May as well say it now. I took a deep breath and blurted it out.
“I’m a virgin.”
There. Three words that would send any man running. I usually broke the news to a guy I was dating early on. When we were younger, it worked out just fine, but I’d noticed, as I hit my early twenties, it tended to throw a bucket of ice on any interest a man had in me.
Virgins weren’t good for one-night stands. Or even casual relationships. No, you had to be serious to sleep with a virgin. If you were a gentleman like Josiah, anyway.
His expression softened, and I knew he was about to speak those words. “Violet?—”
“I want to do this here,” I said, cutting off anything he might say. “But maybe we tilt the blinds open.”
He looked over toward the blinds, then back at me. “People will be able to see us from the street.”
I shook my head. “They won’t. We’re going over to my desk. But we’ll know if somebody pulls into the parking lot by their headlights.”
His eyebrows arched, and a smile slowly spread. “I like the way you think. But this isn’t any place for a first time.”
“It’s the best place for a first time,” I said.
I reached out and took his hand, stepping out of the skirt pooled around my feet. Then I led him over to my desk, all too aware of the fact that he could see my backside—my white cotton briefs were about as boring as they could be. At least he hadn’t gotten a good look at my matching plain white bra. That might have sent him running away.
I was shivering by the time I turned to face him. My knees were so wobbly, I used my desk for support. That was when I saw him undoing his button, then lowering his zipper.
His pants were coming down. Holy hell, his pants were coming down. I braced myself for my first glimpse of an erection in real life. I had a feeling once I saw what he was packing in those jeans, I’d never be the same.