Chapter 2
I walk into my guestroom, glancing over things and checking to make sure everything has been arranged properly. This room is smaller than my master, but it still has an attached bathroom and plenty of room for a king size bed and a small space to sit down and relax in privacy. I open the first drawer of the dresser and pull out a few articles of clothing. Panties always go in the top drawer. Silk and lace. Veneer and see-through, for the most part.
I check in on the second drawer down. Casual shirts and jeans. I had received all Grace’s measurements from Excalibur and sent a personal shopper to outfit the guest room to my exacting specifications with everything from socks to formal evening dresses. I inspect the tags. The correct size and brand names. Good.
This was going to be interesting.
I feel something foreign push its way up inside my chest. Something I haven’t felt for a long time. I haven’t been this excited to be with a woman in ages — and I’m not even technically allowed to be with her.
A virgin? I’m a thirty-five-year-old man. A successful man who can afford to lavish attention on starlets and models. The kind of bad, naughty girls who know what they’re doing in bed. When’s the last time I was with a virgin? She’s almost half my age. Not that that’s a bad thing — hell — some guys really get off on that kind of stuff. Me? I’ve had a semi-woody all day thinking of all the things I can do to her without taking her innocence.
Cal gave me the lowdown. She isn’t just a virgin. She’s innocent to the truest extent of the word. I may not be able to take that tight pussy, but I get to take any other first I want. I can be the first inside those lips, the first to make her scream, the first to make her beg. I tuck my thumb into my belt and drape my fingers over my half stiffened cock. Just thinking of her is getting me all riled up. I need to calm down before she gets here.
A chime dings over the speakers placed throughout my penthouse.
“Go ahead,” I order.
“A Miss Grace Stowe seeking permission to enter, Mister Ashford.”
“Send her up.”
Here she comes. Right now — at this very moment — a sweet, young virgin is riding the elevator up to my home. To stay with me. To have me do things to her no man has ever done. To teach her how to satisfy my cock. God, this really isn’t helping to calm down my erection. I detour into my bedroom and pull out the jockstrap I use when taking boxing classes. That should keep the old boy contained.
I pull my jeans back up, zipping and buckling, as I reenter my living space. I hear the elevator slide shut, and there she is — looking around herself with a single, small bag clasped in front of her. God, she even looks innocent. She’s right about average as far as height goes, a bit on the thin end, long hair pulled back into a ponytail, simple jeans and T-shirt. The girl next door. The girl I can’t fuck.
Her eyes slowly scan from left to right, taking in my luxurious apartment with awe. I stand in silence, letting her continue her inspection until she reaches me. She stops — frozen. Her eyes widen, and her lips part.
I slip my fingertips into the front pockets of my jeans. “Welcome to my home, Grace. Please, come with me. I’ll show you your room.”
She takes tentative steps to follow me, and I reach out a beckoning hand to encourage her. I usher her toward the guestroom, flick on the light, and take her bag from her.
“It’s good that you have some of your own things here, but the dresser and closet is fully stocked with clothes and shoes in your size. I have a maid, and she’ll come around every morning to clean up, so don’t worry about laundry or the sheets or anything. Same with the bathroom. New towels magically appear, and if you need anything, just mention it or leave a note, and it will be provided.”
She takes hesitant steps forward, turning this way and that, taking it all in. She cranes her neck around the doorway to the bathroom. “I get my own?”
She makes me smile. “Of course.” I point out the switches on the wall. “This one’s for the heated tile, and this one gets the Jacuzzi tub started for you.”
I watch her as she takes a moment to adjust to her surroundings, her fingers clasped in front of her. She’s refreshing. So unlike the women who usually come into my home. Those who have come before her either take the luxury for granted, or are loud in their verbal praise of its splendors. A bit jarring, really. Grace doesn’t rave over the marble or the silver inlay or the silk sheets. She runs her fingers over the bed, feeling its softness. She touches the engraved wood and stone, and a lovely half smile brightens her features.
Refreshing, indeed. She’s adorable, if I may say so. “Go ahead and get settled in then put on one of the dresses in the closet. Dinner is in one hour. I will leave you to yourself so you can get comfortable.”
I gently close the door behind me and walk back toward my room. The waiting staff should be here any moment in order to see to the setting up of our private dinner. I want it to be just her and I tonight so I can get a full appreciation of the goods without any distractions.
First, a cold shower and a good jerking off session to get rid of my persistent hard on.