Oh. My. God. Had I really done that? I had never imagined… I couldn't believe what I had done, how I had behaved. But I also felt very grateful, so appreciative, that Wyatt had been so patient… so good… allowing me to adjust when I needed to, giving me the freedom to set the pace. I'd be the first to admit that he was a handsome guy, but my impression of him had never imagined what a fine, well-sculpted body he had under those business suits of his. Still, my feelings for him involved more than that. Oddly enough, and though I had been frightened, uncertain, and unsure of what to expect, the feeling of his arms around me, the gentleness of his fingers on my flesh… it not only made me hot all over again but gave me a twinge. My heart thumped erratically for several moments and though I was alone in my room now, a flush rose in my cheeks. I looked at myself in the mirror and shook my head.

"No, absolutely not." I told my reflection. "You cannot fall for him. The deal was done. I kept up my end of the bargain and he's kept up his. That's it. No more."

So why did the thought of never seeing him again, in that way, fill me with a sense of disappointment? We'd only been out a few times and yet… and yet I felt inexorably drawn to him. It didn't matter that we came from two different worlds, or that I wasn't in his league. I suppose wishful thinking never hurt anyone, but I couldn't allow it to continue. I didn't belong in his life and he certainly didn't belong in mine.

The whole thing seems so surreal. It really happened? I looked around my room. My bed made, everything in its place and a place for everything, as Mary Poppins used to say. So no, I hadn't just woken from a dream, having just thrown my bed covers back, my body still throbbing from a sex dream. No, I had done it. I'd really done it.

It was much better than I had ever imagined it could be. While not exactly under the circumstances I had always imagined, my first time had been the most exciting, thrilling, heart-pounding, heart-stopping surge of pleasure I had ever felt in my entire life. Something entirely different, and the connection I felt with Wyatt now was…

No, I couldn't go there. Nevertheless, I knew that Wyatt had set the bar. From this moment forward, I would always compare any man in my life to Wyatt. Unfair maybe, but how could the experience really be any better? The fact that he had experience probably accounted for some of it, but it was more than that. I like to think that I'd gotten a glimpse into the true personality, persona, and character of Wyatt Cross. His tenderness, his patience, his gentle words of encouragement had ensured not only my comfort, physically and emotionally, but to ensure that I enjoyed my first time. I didn't know of course, but I wondered if he was always like this with the women he dated or if he was just being extra gentle with me because I'd been a virgin. Been. Not was, been. I suppose it wouldn't matter in the long run. We had made a business deal and that was all. It was over now, and I was filled with a sense of almost palpable relief.

Actually, I was proud of myself. Not only of going through with my promise, my end of the bargain, no matter what it cost me, but the fact that I had done it for my parents. They could never find out. Never. I had bought them some time. I had bought all of us some time. Six months, to be exact.

Now that the event, as I would call it, was over, I was determined to find a second job. I could work two jobs, and just hope and pray that the charges against my father were unfounded, that he wouldn't be put in jail. If my dad was put in jail, it would kill my mother. I don't think I was overreacting. My parents loved each other so deeply. Ever since they had met in college and fallen in love, they had devoted themselves to one another. I didn't want to think about the worst-case scenario, about what life might be like without my dad in it. I didn't care about the stigma or the whispers, because I didn't have that many friends anyway. I knew that no matter what happened, Sadie would be there for me, no judgment, no turning her back on me.

And Wyatt? Well, he didn't even figure into the equation, did he? He knew what was going on, or least as much as I told him. He knew about my dad but he had kept his end of the bargain anyway. I turned away from the mirror, staring at my bed. Thinking of everything we had done in his bed. He didn't care about all that. He couldn't. I was just another woman in his life, and a temporary one at that. He probably hadn't given my dad a second thought. It wasn't his problem. It was mine.

It was still early, the sun still rising and the air blessedly cool, no hint of the humidity that was going to bear down on St. Pete in another hour or two. I knew I had to call Sadie and tell her. We both had to work the afternoon shift today, but I knew that she was anxious to hear from me. I had called her yesterday after I heard from Wyatt. As it was, I recalled her barely concealed excitement, her anticipation, her desire for every detail.

I grabbed my phone, called Sadie, and smiled when she answered it before the first ring ran its course.

"Tell me everything, Riley. And please tell me that you didn't chicken out again."

"I didn't," I said. A subdued squeal met my announcement.

"Get dressed and meet me at the coffee shop at the corner. My treat. Any coffee of your choice and the biggest, most fattening muffin you want. Okay?"

"Okay." I said and disconnected the call.

Less than an hour later, I was on my second cup of caramel mocha coffee, the remnants of two giant cinnamon raisin muffins on the plate in front of me. I had told Sadie everything, from the moment I got to Wyatt's mansion to his dropping me off back at my house just after midnight.

"Wow, sounds like it was amazing," she said, contemplative as she stared into her nearly drained cup of coffee.

"It was. I was actually surprised."

"I wish my first time had been like that. But no, it was a bunch of awkward fumbling, which I guess is understandable considering that I was in the tenth grade—"

"Sadie! You never told me!" I gasped, surprised that my friend had kept such a secret from me. She offered an embarrassed shrug.

"It was so pitiful, so embarrassing, I didn't even want to remember it," she admitted.

I felt her eyes on me as she paused but I found it difficult to explain the myriad of feelings racing through me. She beat me to it, first placing a hand on mine.

"The first time… it's always supposed to be so special, I know. And I know you had your own vision of how you wanted it to happen." She offered a small smile. "Heaven knows, I know what I wanted my first time to be like, but it was one of the most disappointing experiences in my life. So, even though this wasn't exactly the way you planned it, be thankful that at least you got some pleasure out of it. You did, didn't you?"

I felt another flush rise in my cheeks. Just the memory of… "Yes," I replied, shyly, again surprising considering my history with Sadie. I offered a grin. "I wasn't expecting that… I expected him to just want to hurry up and get it over with. I don't know why I thought it would only take a few minutes but…"

She laughed and squeezed my hand.

"Count your blessings, Riley. At least you can look back on your first time with fond memories, right?"

I nodded. Again, I felt Sadie's eyes on me and looked up to see a concerned expression on her face. She gazed at me without blinking, a raised eyebrow and a knowing smile.

"Don't tell me that you're falling for him," she said, her voice soft and cautious.

"I don't know what I'm thinking and feeling," I admitted. That much was the truth. I was still trying to process what happened between Wyatt and me, the sex. It had been so powerful, so… everything, but I also knew that my emotions regarding the physical act had as much to do, if not more so, than Wyatt himself. Not his skill, not his patience, but remembering the way that he looked at me, the way his gaze traveled down my body, evoking sensations that were foreign to me. The quiet murmurings, the gentle, emotionally touching gestures. Most of all, I appreciated the smile he gave me when it was over, and then calmly, without much ado, without making me feel more embarrassed than I already was after the deed was done, he had asked if I was hungry. I laughed, the tension broken, and he had gone downstairs while I dressed. By the time I meandered my way through the mansion from his bedroom down the curved and beautiful staircase and into the even more gorgeous kitchen with its view of the channel lit up, the water shimmering with boat lights and neighboring houses, he slid an omelet, some bacon, and two slices of toast onto a plate and put it on the table in front of me before retrieving his own.

"Nothing like breakfast for dinner, right?"

I had been surprised. Such a common, unpretentious thing to do. I had made breakfast for dinner many times. But a billionaire? The act only increased my sense of confusion.

Will the real Wyatt Cross please stand up?