A Virgin for the CEO

9

Slowly and with much care, Enrique opened his eyes.

He felt strange. It felt like he was seeing the room for the first time.

It was his own room, in a house he owned. It shouldn't feel this strange. He stared at the slowly rotating ceiling fan above him, won-dering what was different this morning. Something happened last night. Something beautiful that he couldn't remember.

Was it a dream? Dreams always escaped him as soon as he woke up.

He was lying naked on his bed. But that wasn't new.

He turned and, without thinking, reached for something... someone—an involuntary action remembered by his body before his mind could catch up with him.

Then he frowned.

Well.

No one was there.

Of course, there wasn't anyone. His split with Helene was several weeks ago, and he might not have accepted it yet, but he stopped doing that... reaching for her in his bed when he woke up in the morning.

He'd stopped looking for her warmth in his bed a long time ago. In fact, he now felt revulsion at the memory of how he had pined for her, while she had been secretly sleeping with another man and plan-ning her future with that man, too, balancing which of them would provide her with more of what she wanted.

His eyebrows met in a scowl.

His revulsion toward her felt like spoiled food now. He didn't feel as terrible. It was almost like... he didn't care.

Wait a minute, wasn't Helene the reason why he got drunk in the first place?

He remembered getting crushed by the terrible heaviness of her betrayal. He felt so mad. He loathed her like the plague.

But... she wasn't the one he remembered now.

His body was looking for another body. Of another woman. Someone whose soft, thick hair smelled of citrus and whose body smelled of... baby powder... beneath whatever heavy perfume was sprayed on her that didn't seem to identify with the sweet response and the soft, sensual moans he'd heard from her.

Definitely a different woman, not just in identity but, he suspected, in everything else from Helene.

Who was she?

He shouldn't have fallen asleep. He still wanted her.

And he wanted her again.

His body remembered what it was like to be between her thighs, driving himself into her womanhood felt like the most exquisite heat he couldn't have imagined before last night... hard... losing himself in their moment, with her arms around him, making him feel the protected instead, when he was supposed to be the man.

To not be aware of anything else but her smell and her softness and her erotic sounds was something he had never experienced in the level that he remembered last night.

To only be aware of the sensuous movements of her hips against his thrusts, so in sync with his own body. Pushing away and forgetting all the poison that had been lodged inside his head.

The madness.

Even hate...

He went home to St. Archangel Gabriel a week ago because he had nowhere else to go. There was no other place where he could think of escaping where he could feel safe. Many places reminded him of Helene, but she had never been to his escape house.

When he found out Helene was going to marry the man she had cheated him with, it all came crashing down on him. He was in a rut for that whole week, drinking and wanting to drown himself in it.