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Her fingers wove through his.
There was so much of him. Even when she thought she had taken all of him, she hadn’t. There was more of him.
More. More.
She gave an inadvertent gasp at a sudden flicker of pain.
He went completely still.
Her eyes flew open. Sweat glistened on his muscled shoulders, his chest, his arms.
“Genevieve?”
She saw the disbelief in his eyes. He was going to stop, she was sure of it, and she couldn’t let that happen.
“Genevieve,” he groaned, “goddammit, why didn’t you—”
She lifted herself to him and impaled herself on his erection.
For a heartbeat, the world stood still.
Then Travis plunged deep, deeper still.
Jennie cried out as a wave of sensation swept her up, lifted her higher than the night, than the stars.
He collapsed against her. She started to put her arms around him but the second she touched him, he jerked away and sat up.
Her throat tightened. Automatically she clutched the duvet to her chin and sat up, too.
“Travis?” She cleared her throat. “Listen, I—I know you didn’t expect—”
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Why would I tell you?” she said in genuine confusion. “It’s not exactly a conversation starter.”
“I’d have done things differently.” He hesitated. “Dammit, I might not have done anything at all. No man wants to be responsible for—for—”
“Is that what’s worrying you? It shouldn’t. I wanted this to happen. To, you know, lose my, uh, my—”
Ridiculous, that after all of this, she couldn’t say the word.
But he could.
“Your virginity.” He looked at her, his expression unreadable. “Wait a minute. Are you saying you planned this?”
Warning bells rang. Something in the way he’d said that...
Travis grabbed her by the shoulders.
“You did, didn’t you?”
She drew her bottom lip between her teeth.
His eyes narrowed.
“So, what was I? The lottery winner?”
“You were—you were a good choice. A very good choice,” she said quickly, but she saw his mouth thin.
“A very good choice,” he said in a soft, ominous voice. “Why? Did I meet some kind of criteria? Some—some list of protocols in a textbook?”
“No,” she said, and added the first stupid thing that came to mind. “I mean, the protocols I drew up were strictly my own...”
He rolled away, got to his feet.
“Get dressed,” he said, his tone not just flat but cold as he grabbed his discarded jeans from the floor and yanked them on.
“Would you just listen to—”
She was talking to an empty room.
Jennie began to shake.
Maybe she hadn’t handled this very well but she’d never imagined the man who completed her research would react this way. Weren’t men happy to deflower virgins? All the data said they were.
And what did that matter now?
What counted was getting out of here.
She dressed quickly but then, how long could it take to put on a thong and a pair of shoes? Travis Wilde had never gotten around to taking off her stockings.
The very thought sent a rush of humiliation through her bones.
Everything else—her bra, her dress, her purse—was still in the elevator.
She wanted to weep but no way was she going to let that happen.
His shirt was still on the floor.
She snatched it up, dragged it over her head. It fell to the bottom of her buttocks. That left her with the tops of her stockings showing but it would have to do.
She went down the stairs as rapidly as the miserable stiletto heels would permit. The lights were on. She hated their bright luminescence but at least she could see where she was going.
The man who’d taken her virginity was standing at the far end of the big living room, in front of the open doors of his private elevator. His dark hair was mussed; an overhead spot highlighted the planes and angles of his hard body. He was wearing only his jeans; he’d zipped the fly but he hadn’t closed the top button.
He was a gorgeous sight—
As if that mattered.
Her chin came up.
She stalked toward him, hoping she wouldn’t ruin her exit by stumbling in the damned shoes.
“Your clothes,” he said.
Her face heated. Her dress, her purse, her bra were in the hand he extended toward her. She snatched everything from him, pulled the dress on over the shirt because no way was she going to take it off and let him see her breasts again, and stuffed the bra into her purse, though it barely fit.
She started past him again. His arm shot out and barred her way.
“Excuse me,” she said coldly.
“I phoned down. The concierge will have a taxi waiting.”
“I can call a taxi by myself.”
“Don’t be a fool. And take this. It should cover the fare.”
She looked at the bills in his hand, then at him.
“I do not want your money, Mr. Wilde.”
“Take it.”
Jennie shoved his hand aside. “Are you deaf? I said—”
“Did you think this little escapade would be fun? Picking up a stranger. Turning him on. Getting him to take what it’s obvious you haven’t been able to get rid of in the usual way?”
“I am not going to have this conversation. Just step aside, please.”
Travis grabbed her wrist.
“You damned well are going to have this conversation! What in hell were you thinking?”
“You want to discuss this?” Jennie said, glaring at him. “Fine. Let’s set the record straight. I did not pick you up. You picked me up.”
“Like hell I did ! All I wanted—”
“All you wanted was to use me to save your precious self from getting beaten to a pulp! And I was kind enough to oblige.”
“You did a lot more than that, lady.”
“You’re right. I make the sad mistake of letting you—of letting you seduce me!”
He laughed. Laughed! Jennie balled her hands into fists.
“I seduced you? You were all over me, baby. What happened tonight was an act of charity on my part. I mean, even without knowing you were a virgin, I knew you were in desperate need of a good—”
Jennie slapped his face.
“You’re an unmitigated bastard,” she said, her voice trembling.
“And you’re a little fool,” Travis snarled. “You’re just
lucky you didn’t end up in bed with a—a serial killer!”
“Bad enough I ended up in bed with a—a man who—who doesn’t know the first thing about—about sex and how to please a wo—”
Travis hauled her into his arms and kissed her.
She fought. She struggled. He caught her wrists in one hand, dragged her arms behind her and went on kissing her and kissing her until she moaned and her lips clung to his...
That was when he let go of her.
She stared at him, at the arrogant little smile curving his mouth, the I-told-you-so look in his eyes.
She wanted to say something pithy and clever, but her head felt as empty as her heart. The best she could manage was to spin away and stumble into the elevator.
The doors shut.
As soon as they did, she yanked down the straps of her dress, peeled off his T-shirt and dumped it on the floor. Seconds later, she emerged in a marble lobby the size of an airplane hangar. She marched through it, ignored the concierge calling after her, the taxi waiting at the curb. She wanted nothing, absolutely nothing, from Travis Wilde.
It was hotter than blazes, even at this late hour. She walked for endless blocks, sweated through the dress, took off her shoes and carried them because surely women’s feet were not meant for four-inch heels.
She knew she must look awful. Cabs slowed when she hailed them, then sped away.
At last, one pulled to the curb.
The driver stared as she climbed in, but she didn’t give a damn.
She was heading home, and Travis Wilde was exactly what he’d been intended to be.
An experience.
And if these last months had taught her anything, she thought grimly, as the cab rushed into the night, it was that not all experiences were good ones.
* * *
Alone in his condo, Travis paced like a caged tiger.
What kind of woman saw sex as research? What kind of woman thought she could use a man to rid herself of something she no longer wanted, and get away with it?
All those moans when she lay in his arms. The little cries of passion. Part of a plan...
Or real?
Real, judging by the way she’d responded to that last, furious kiss.
Yeah, but so what?
If he hadn’t walked over to her in that bar, if someone else had, she’d have ended up in another guy’s bed.
His jaw tightened.
And?
What did it matter? Why would he give a crap who Blondie slept with? Who took her virginity?
