“That’s him,” I hiss in a whisper at Hailey.

“Who?”

“Ryan Hudson… my boss.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Of course I’m sure.”

“So you were dreaming about him.”

“Shhh,” I say. “That’s my boss.”

“He’s coming right towards you.”

“No way,” I say, unable to believe what I’m seeing.

But it’s true. Ryan Hudson is walking right towards us. It feels like he’s looking right at me, his gaze running up and down my body, landing finally right on my eyes. He is looking right at me. But he couldn’t be, right? It must be some mistake.

“He’s coming right towards you,” whispers Hailey, sounding excited herself. “The douchebag billionaire in person.”

“Shhh,” I say again, hoping he won’t hear her. “He’s just looking at us.”

“No,” says Hailey. “He’s looking at you.”

Now we can’t talk. Ryan Hudson is right here. Right here in the flesh. The man whose picture I was lusting over just a few hours ago, and honestly, the one who inspired me to finally decide to lose my virginity.

Maybe he’s just going to ask me if I’m in the wrong place, I think to myself. There’s no way I look like I belong here. Hailey somehow stuffed me into one of her tight dresses, and I feel exposed wearing this, like my curves are tumbling out of the dress, about to spill out completely.

But he’s right in front of me. Clearly me, not Hailey. He looks me up and down without an expression on his face, but he finally breaks into a grin.

“You need a drink,” he says to me, his voice deep and confident.

He’s wearing a tailored sport coat over a button down shirt that’s open at the top, just enough to show me a little of his chest.

He’s much more impressive in person than in his picture. He’s muscled. That’s clearly evident even through his clothes.

His haircut is perfect. His beard is just right, just a couple days of perfect stubble. His pants are a good cut, and his shoes are un-scuffed. Everything about him screams refinement. And who am I? Just a recent college graduate who’s basically completely broke, living in some cramped house with a bunch of people I don’t even know. (With the exception of Hailey.)

I feel like I’m taking forever to speak. The words don’t seem to want to come out of my throat. They’re caught there, stuck.

He won’t take his eyes off mine, and my knees begin to feel weak, like I’m going to collapse under his gaze.

“She’d love one,” says Hailey for me.

“Yeah,” I say. “Drink.”

What an idiot! I think to myself. “Drink?” Who says that? It sounds like I don’t know how to speak. That’s far worse than just seeming like I’ve barely been in a bar before, like I’m new to this whole thing.

I nod my head vigorously to try to make up for my lack of proper speech.

Ryan just grins at me.

“Follow me,” he says, taking my hand in his and leading me to the bar.

His hand is strong, massive, and roughly textured. My own hand feels like a doll’s hand in his, small and delicate.

I turn my head to look at Hailey.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

Hailey gives me a very suggestive wink and mouths something at me that I don’t quite catch. Maybe she mouthed, “Go for it!”

Ryan Hudson, Ryan Hudson—the words circle through my head.

My boss, my boss—the words won’t leave.

“Two martinis,” Ryan says to the bartender, still not releasing my hand.

Standing against the bar, he looks simply massive. Tall, but also just built. There’s something about his body that just draws me to him.

His hand still around mine, he pulls me closer to him, so that my breasts are only an inch away from his chest. He’s looking down at me, gazing into my eyes.

This can’t be real, this can’t be real.

“Do you always look so sexy?” says Ryan.

I should try to giggle, but instead some strange noise comes out of my throat.

I pass it off as a cough, putting my other hand to my mouth.

“Careful,” says Ryan. “You don’t want to get me sick.”

I don’t want to get him sick? That’s a strange thing to say.

“Or maybe you do,” he says, his mouth turning into a wicked grin. “Maybe you want to do naughty things to me.”

He comes on strong, doesn’t he?

“I… I was just coming out for a drink with my friend,” I say.

“I can see that,” he says, but his eyes don’t leave my body. “But you must want something more. Don’t you?”

I nod my head shyly.

Ryan chuckles deeply. “You know what you want,” he says.

The martinis arrive, and Ryan hands me my glass. My hand is shaking when I take it. Ryan’s hand is still around my other hand, his grip tight enough that it’s starting to become a little uncomfortable.

“Cheers,” says Ryan as we clink glasses.

“Cheers,” I say, my voice shy and meek.

He doesn’t take his eyes off mine as we each take a sip.

He simply drains his entire drink in one gulp.

I taste mine lightly, and almost spit it out. I’ve never had a martini before, and I don’t think it’s for me. It tastes slimy, rough, and not at all sweet. It’s nothing like the wine that I enjoy with Hailey, which is so loaded with sugar it might as well be alcoholic soda.

But I manage to swallow a sip of this stuff. If nothing else, I’m doing it for Ryan Hudson.

But he’s my boss, I think to myself.

And he’s also the douchebag billionaire, and he’s sure acting like it—a cocky, arrogant prick. But a hot one. My body simply won’t let me ignore that last part.

Don’t let him know that you’re a virgin, I think to myself. Just try to play this cool. Pretend like you’re any other normal adult, one who has sex regularly, who’s had sex at all.

My virginity’s never been a big deal to me… I guess… until now. There were just so many other things going on. I mean, sure, I dated guys when I was younger. I got asked out a good deal, actually, but they were always sweaty and too eager. In college, the closest I got was with one guy named Jake, but he actually came in his pants before even taking out his cock. All he had done was touch my breast a little, of course touching it too hard, without using any gentleness. He was a sweaty, smelly mess, and he made some excuse and rushed out of the room, and I never saw him again until the final exam in one of my courses. That kind of turned me off to the whole thing for a while. But this is different… and Ryan’s different. He’s a man.

“So you live here?” says Ryan, still not taking his eyes off me for even a moment.

I nod my head.

Don’t let him know he’s your boss, I think to myself.

So many things to remember: virgin, boss, virgin, boss. Those two words repeat themselves in my head. How am I ever going to remember what to say and what not to say, let alone think of something clever and witty?

But I’ve got to say something.

“You’re a little shy,” says Ryan. He’s not asking. It’s a statement. Everything he says is hammered home with authority.

“I am, but I’m not always.”

OK, not too bad, I tell myself. Not great, but it’s a start.

I’m way too aware that I’m starting to sweat.

This isn’t how I imagined it when I was staring at his picture all day in my cubicle.

“Shy girls are great in bed,” says Ryan. “Why don’t we get out of here? I can show you my house. I have a pool. We can go skinny-dipping.”

“You move fast, don’t you,” I say. I can’t help raising one eyebrow.

I take another sip of this gross drink.

“Only because I want you,” says Ryan. “And I know you want me too.”

“Maybe you’re right and maybe you’re wrong.”

I think I’m getting the hang of this new skill: witty banter. Isn’t that what the couples in movies do? Maybe I don’t seem like a virgin at all.

“I know,” says Ryan simply. There’s no smile on his face. He puts his martini glass down on the bar with a thud and takes my arm.

“You coming?” he says. “It’s up to you, of course.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Hailey over at the other end of the bar. She gives me a very obvious thumbs up with both hands, not to mention an over the top wink.

I take a gulp of air before answering. It’s about to happen. I’m finally going to do it.

And with Ryan Hudson, no less. Who cares if he’s an asshole? He’s smoking hot. Smoldering, really.

“Sure,” I say, and Ryan leads me out of the bar.

He’s got his elbow cocked and I weave my arm through his, holding myself against his muscular body. I can feel the hardness of his muscles when I brush up against him, when he moves to turn.

Finally out in the night, the air is cooler than in the bar. I’d gotten used to the noise inside, and it suddenly seems stone cold quiet out here. The absence of sound makes my decision seem suddenly graver. Everything suddenly seems much more intense, scarier.

Before I know what’s happened, a valet drives a sparkling waxed European sports car to the curb. He’s wearing a valet uniform and runs over to open the door for me.

Ryan doesn’t even wait for me to buckle my belt.

The engine’s roaring, and we’re blasting off through the hills of San Francisco.

He turns his head completely away from the road. His eyes drink me in. His mouth turns up at the corners in a hungry grin. In any other situation, this kind of attention would make me feel incredibly uncomfortable, but right now I can’t think about anything else than how my body is feeling.

I’ve never felt like this before. It’s as if a magnet is drawing me towards him. My nipples are swelling, and I’m feeling a tingling sensation between my legs.

He seems to notice this. I can’t keep my eyes off his shoulders, and where his chin cuts across his face like a razor blade. His eyes seem to cut through me.

There’s something I’m not sure I like about him—but his arrogance, his self confidence, these things are just drawing me closer to him, just making him more attractive. I never thought I’d be the kind of woman who would fall for a guy like this.

Am I falling? What am I falling into?

“Here we are,” says Ryan. “I’m sure you’ll like it.”

He pulls quickly into a private underground garage, the door opening swiftly and automatically. I just get a glimpse of an immaculate, huge house, with a perfectly manicured small yard in front.

Even the garage, where we are now, screams elegance and luxury. Everything moves smoothly, easily. Everything is in its proper place. Everything is perfect.

Everything except me.

I’m a virgin.

He’s clear about his intentions.

Should I tell him I’m a virgin?

Will he find out anyway? Will he just think I’m really bad, and don’t know what I’m doing? Or will he think that I’m not really into him?

“I’m going to do things to you that will make you feel things you’ve never felt,” says Ryan, leaning over to me as he unbuckles his belt. His lips brush ever so gently against the nape of my neck, making me shiver in delight, sending tingling sensations of ecstasy down through my chest.