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“Oh, okay. I mean, um…” My thumbs fly over the screen.
It’s nice to meet you! I’m Eden, Mr. Stride’s personal assistant. He told me to come over.
She walks over and hooks her arm through mine, patting my hand as she leads me inside.
I didn’t think of Hunter as the kind of man who owned a chandelier, yet the longer I take in my surroundings, the more the opulence makes sense. The polished marble floors, the priceless works of art held up in gilded frames, and a freaking water feature built right into his living room.
My mouth drops when I see the infinity pool in his backyard. The view of Los Angeles from up on the Hills is unlike anything I’ve ever seen.
Hungry? I can make you something to eat while you wait for Mr. Stride to get back.
Thank you very much, but no. I’m only here for work.
Calling my reason for being hereworkis obviously a gross exaggeration, but I don’t know how to explain to this sweet old lady that I’m here to lose my virginity. I can picture Mei-Lee clutching her pearls and maybe sending me away, maybe even chasing me down with a bat because who the hell is this random girl coming into Mr. Stride’s fancy home? I figure the less she knows, the better.
That’s alright. Hunter doesn’t often eat dinner, either. I’m off the clock for the day, so I’ll be in my room if you need anything. You’re more than welcome to explore, if you wish.
I nod at her and watch as she scoots off down the hall, disappearing around the corner. I decide to take her up on the opportunity to explore. It’ll give me something to do, and maybe I can learn a bit about the man behind the suits I’ve come to drool over.
I keep to the main floor out of fear of getting lost. There are too many floors, too many rooms, too many turns to keep track of. It’s better to play it safe than risk having to be saved by Hunter when he comes home.
His kitchen is impressive. Clean. I have no doubt he has Mei-Lee to thank for that. Several potted plants are set out on shelves, on the kitchen island, on the glass dining table. When I get a closer look, I realize they’re all fake. It makes sense, I suppose. A busy man like the great Hunter Stride likely doesn’t have time to water real flowers.
I wander to his living room, peering outside at his pool through the floor-to-ceiling windows. My thoughts start to wander, picturing him doing laps shirtless. Maybe even nude. A bubbly giddiness inflates my chest as I giggle at the mental image. Now that I’m here, my imagination is starting to get the better of me.
Sitting on his lavish, white leather sectional, I wonder how this is going to happen, how it’ll work. Is this a one-time thing? What if I’m bad at it? How will this affect our relationship at work? He knows I’m a virgin, but will he expect a satisfying experience? What if I don’t know how to please him?
There’s a rumble from somewhere down the hall. A garage opening, perhaps. It isn’t long before I hear a door open and shut, followed by heavy but unmistakable footsteps against the tile floor. I hold my breath as they draw closer and closer, my heart racing a mile a minute.
He’s here. What do I say? What do I do? What—
“Eden. You came.”
I turn to look at him. “I did.”
“So you’ve made your choice,” he says as he shrugs off his suit jacket. He neatly folds it in half before draping it over the back of the couch.
I breathe in slowly. “Yes, I have.”
Hunter locks eyes with me, nods once, and makes his move.
Three long strides are all it takes for him to close the distance between us. Before I even have the chance to process what’s happening, Hunter circles my waist with his arms and pulls me against his hard body. Our lips crash together, slotting in place like a lock and a key. He’s ravenous, the tip of his tongue teasing my mouth open to explore this uncharted territory.
Nowthisis a kiss.
I’m breathless, light-headed. When he sucks on my lower lip, I can’t help but groan. I’m directionless, unable to tell up from down, yet I can’t think of a safer place in the world than in Hunter’s strong embrace.
He moves quickly. The second we break apart for air, he bends and throws me over his shoulder like I weigh nothing at all.
I gasp, flailing at the sudden movement. “Hunter!”
He smacks me on the ass. “Quiet.”
I don’t know where he’s taking me, but I quite frankly don’t give a damn. I feel like a princess being whisked away, not by Prince Charming, but by a rough and tumble bandit. Hunter doesn’t even break a sweat when he climbs the stairs to the top floor of his Beverly Hills mansion, carrying me all the way to the end of the hall to what I assume is his bedroom.
I don’t get to take in the grandiose space because Hunter plops me down on his soft bed. The silk sheets are cool beneath my fiery skin. He’s on top of me in an instant, kissing and touching me wherever he can manage. He peppers kisses to the corners of my mouth, down my neck, nibbling at my shoulder as his big hands squeeze my breasts, stroking down to my hips, my ass, my thighs.
“Are you on anything?” he asks me gruffly.
