Page 6 of His Virgin Valentine

Okay, so another guilty pleasure of mine is watching Wyatt’s how-to videos on YouTube. They’re mostly for his students at the College of Culinary Arts.

God, I could listen to him talk about cooking for hours.

When I’m done watching the Crème Brûlée video, I flip over to another video of Wyatt making French appetizers.Ughhh.There’s this one student of his—I think her name is Natalie—that’s in nearly all of his videos.‘Yes, Chef,’she rasps every time that he asks for an ingredient. Grrr! I bet she’s exactly the type of girl that Wyatt would go for. She seems bold, extroverted and confident in herself.

I’m none of those things. I’m awkward and I always will be.

I turn the video off and frown at my computer screen.

Why do I torture myself with negative thoughts?

I glance over at the clock on the wall.Shit!It’s two minutes to 9pm. Wyatt should be home any minute now, but I’m seriously not going to watch him from my peephole.

Nope…no more for me. I’m DONE! It’s time that I wean myself off of obsessing about Wyatt.

Instead, I grab a pillow and briefly suffocate myself with it. Then I eventually fall asleep.

Wyatt trails his thumb over my bottom lip. “You belong to me, Gemma,” he whispers before kissing me.

“Oh Wyatt…Wyatt…Wyatt,” I moan against his lips as he grinds his erection against my wet panties.

God, his cock feels huge! I glance down at the bulge in his pants and gasp. Much to my shock, Wyatt’s cock is as big as an eggplant. Wait, it’s an actual eggplant emoji?!

My eyes snap open when I hear a loud sound.

Knock, knock!

I blink my bleary eyes and sit up from the couch.

How long have I been asleep for?

I glance over at the clock and see that it’s after midnight.

Knock, knock!

Who could be knocking at my door at this hour?

“Who’s there?” I ask in a shaky voice as I make my way toward the sound.

“It’s Wyatt.”

My throat snares. “Wyatt?”

“Is something wrong, Gemma? Are you okay?” he questions, his voice laced with concern.

I press my eye against my peephole and stare at his beautiful face. He looks flustered and sexy as hell.Damn him.

“What makes you ask me that?” I’m a bundle of nerves right now. “I was sound asleep,” I admit nervously.

“You were asleep, huh?” Wyatt sucks in a breath and runs a hand through his hair. “Well, um, I’m only asking because I heard you call my name. More than once.”

Uh-oh!

My face burns with embarrassment. “Are you sure that you heard YOUR name?”

“I’m positive,” he says gruffly. “Also, the name Wyatt is fairly uncommon.”

“There are 8.4 million people in New York City,” I counter swiftly.

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