The Playboy's Secret Virgin by Tasha Fawkes & M. S. Parker

Author:Tasha Fawkes & M. S. Parker [Fawkes, Tasha]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: New Adult Romance
Publisher: Safira Press LLC
Published: 2017-06-04T18:30:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-One

Jane

When I see him at the club, in that moment before he turns and sees me, he has such a lost expression on his face that it breaks my heart. And it helps me make my decision. I don’t want to be scared anymore. I want to do this, and not just because I know he wants it, but because I want it.

Then he looks at me and the heat in his gaze is enough to send desire rocketing through me.

I’m walking toward him with only one thought on my mind: I need to touch him.

The kiss is everything I hoped it would be. It’s intentional on both parts, and for the right reasons this time. There’s no wondering why or what the other person’s thinking.

When he asks me if I’m sure, I know I’ve made the right choice. He barely takes his eyes off me as he tells a friend that he’s leaving. He just nods at Chloe, but out of the corner of my eye, I see her beaming. I tell myself I need to thank her, but there will be time for that later.

There’s a town car waiting when we leave the club, and I expect Anthony to give the driver his address as soon as he slides in next to me. Instead, he asks, “Will you be more comfortable at your place or mine?”

“I think we’ll both be more comfortable at yours,” I say. “My bed is that futon, remember?”

He gives me a wry sort of smile as he brushes back some hair from my face. “Sadly, I don’t really remember much, but I’ll take your word for it.” He wraps a lock of hair around his finger. “I don’t want you to feel any pressure. If you want me to stop at any point—”

“You will, I know.” I take his hand and press a kiss to his palm.

“I don’t want to jinx this, but can I ask what made you change your mind?” He laces his fingers between mine and rests our hands on his knee.

I know I’ll need to tell him about my past, but this isn’t the right moment. So I give him the truth, but not all of it. “Chloe talked some sense into me.” He raises an eyebrow, and I add, “She reminded me that I can trust you.”

The rest of the ride to his place is quiet. He keeps me close, tucked under his arm, our hands clasped together. I wait for the panic to kick in, for the memories to come pouring forward. I’m in a car. With a man. Who’s touching me.

When nothing happens, I force myself to think of each specific thing. Better to work on calming myself now and have it all under control by the time we get to his place, than to freak out right before we take that last step like I did before.

The flashbacks don’t come. My uncle’s face stays in the past. It’s only Anthony’s hands. His scent. The warmth of his body.

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