He plays a very cool game, this Declan Tiberi. All week, as we work and play side-by-side, he makes no mention of our little...conversation. But even though we don’t breathe a word about what passed between us, every single one of our interactions is charged with insane sexual tension. Now, every little touch and glance has a whole new meaning. Every word that trips across those gorgeous lips of his has a new subtext:
I’m going to have you.
I’m surprised I can’t hear Kelly’s squeal of delight clear across state lines when I tell her what’s gone down over the phone.
“Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit,” she gushes, “Kassie, I can’t even...this is amazing. You are going to have the best first time story in the history of fucking.”
“That does seem to be the case,” I giggle, “That is, if it ever happens.”
“What’s it been, a few days?” Kelly asks, “He’s just revving you up, I’m sure.”
“I have to admit, I’m freaking out a little bit,” I admit, “We haven’t exactly had the ‘I’m a virgin’ conversation.”
“What, that wasn’t part of the job interview?” my best friend teases.
“Be serious,” I urge, “What if he’s too much for me?”
“What do you mean too much?”
“I don’t know. What if I can’t handle him? That would be so embarrassing.”
“Kassie,” Kelly says sternly, “You are a gorgeous, powerful, amazing woman with twenty-five years of pent up sexual energy to her name. He’s the one who should be worried.”
“But what if I...mess up?” I insist, blushing in my empty suite.
“What the hell does that even mean?” Kelly asks, bursting out laughing.
“I don’t know, Jesus,” I say, “Have a little heart, would you? I’m nervous.”
“It’s not like you’ve never been with a guy before,” Kelly points out, “You’ve done everything but run the bases, right? This won’t be any different, expect for one rather important detail. I know you want your first time to go well, but remember that virginity isn’t actually a real thing. Your feminist ass was the one who taught me that. You’re not losing any power, or any of your self by having sex with this guy. Just relax, enjoy yourself. You’re going to fucking love it, OK?”
“OK,” I breathe, “I’ll just go with it. Everything will be fine.”
“That’s right,” Kelly says, “And the second you hop off that gigantic cock he’s surely rocking, you’re going to call me and give me every single detail.”
“Obviously,” I laugh, rolling my eyes, “That’ll be my first priority, Kel.”
My cell begins to beep, telling me I’ve got another call. I glance down at the screen and see that it’s Declan who’s trying to catch my ear.
“Gotta pick up the other line, it’s him,” I tell Kelly.
“Here’s hoping it’s a booty call! Talk to you soon, you stud,” she chirps.
I switch over to Declan’s call, smoothing out the excitement in my voice as best I can.
“Hey there,” I begin, “Do you need something, boss?”
“I do,” he replies, that smooth, deep voice sending a thrill right down my spine. “I need you to get dressed for dinner. We’re going out tonight. I think we’ve made a lot of progress in the past few days, and I’d like to celebrate it.”
“Progress with my business model, you mean?” I ask, running a nervous hand through my hair.
“Sure,” he replies, “Something like that. Just put on your finest and head downstairs.”
“Where do I meet you?”
“Don’t worry about that. I’ll see you soon, beautiful.”
And with that, he hangs up. I stare down dumbly at my phone. Declan and I have shared plenty of meals together, but this sounds remarkably like a date. Not that I’d know, or anything. Now that I think about it, I don’t think I’ve ever really been on an honest-to-God date before. Most of my interaction with the opposite sex has happened in dorm rooms at two in the morning. What Declan’s proposed is something else entirely.
“Man's full of surprises, isn’t he?” I mutter, rushing to my closet to choose my outfit for tonight’s landmark event.
I end up going with a black sheath dress in a classic 1960’s cut. The way it subtly glances against my curves is just perfect, and the supremely low neckline is sure to please. I slip a strand of pearls around my neck and apply a dash of classic red lipstick. Declan isn’t the only chameleon around here. I love going from biker chick to modern woman to retro babe—it makes me feel like I’m keeping up with Declan’s ever-shifting persona.
Forcing myself to breathe deeply, I head down to the lobby, expecting to find Declan waiting for me. But the only person to be found is Franklin, our adorable doorman. He looks up from his ledger and sees me across the lobby as I step off the elevator. I’m surprised that actual steam doesn’t start pouring out of his ears, given the look on his face.
“Good gracious,” he says, eyes wide, “You look like a blonde Audrey Hepburn, Miss Bennett. Just stunning.”
“I told you that ‘Kassie’ is just fine, right?” I ask, smiling at the kind older man.
“You sure did. I’ll work up to it eventually,” he nods, “Mr. Tiberi wants me to escort you outside, if I may.”
“Oh...OK,” I say slowly, accepting Franklin’s arm, “What’s out...?”
But my words trail off as we step through the doors, into the Vegas night. Idling on the curb is a sleek black limousine. The door swings open, revealing my enigmatic boss. Declan leans out, smiling at the dumbstruck look on my face.
“Your chariot, madam,” he says, offering his hand to me.
As far as first dates go, this is going to be one for the history books.
“So, where are we going?” I ask, sliding into the limo beside Declan as Franklin closes the door behind me.
“To dinner, of course,” Declan replies, taking my hand in his, “Thank you for coming out with me. You look stunning.”
“Thanks,” I smile, my heart swelling in my chest, “But Declan...can I ask what this is all about? Us going out like this—”
“I think you already know the answer to that,” he says, holding my gaze.