The Billionaire and the Virgin

“Sure I do,” Gretchen said. “But I believe in honesty more.” She pointed her fork at Marjorie. “Boobs. Trust me.”

“Or legs,” Violet called across the table. “Some men like legs, and I bet yours does, Marjorie.”

“You’re not helping,” Audrey said, but a smile dimpled her round face.

“A good blow job,” Maylee chimed in.

They all turned and stared at the angelic-looking blonde.

“What?” she asked, an impish smile on her face. “Don’t tell me y’all don’t do that kind of thing in the north?”

“I’m suddenly looking at stuffy Griffin in a whole new light,” Gretchen said.

“Well, don’t, because he’s mine,” Maylee said with a grin. “And you can’t have him.”

“I don’t want him. I have Hunter, thank you very much, and I’m not trading for anyone.” A dreamy look crossed Gretchen’s face. Then she looked over at Marjorie. “Your guy, is he a virgin? Because let me tell you from experience, it is hell trying to nail that down.”

“He’s not,” Marjorie said, cheeks red with embarrassment. “I just want him to, you know, take things up a notch. Not necessarily get into bed together.” Since the ice cream date four days ago, they’d spent just about every waking moment together. They’d played board games, gone to bingo, had dinner together, and simply enjoyed each other’s company. It was nice. Really nice.

He never went further than kissing her goodnight.

She was starting to get a little tired of nice. And the doubts were starting to creep in. Was Rob just not that interested in her? The wedding was in three days, and things were scaling up. Her time was going to be taken up by the wedding more and more, and then she would be flying home two days afterward. She wasn’t going to have much more time to spend with Rob.

And she wanted to. She really did. But she just didn’t know how he felt about her. He held her hand, and he kissed her . . . and that was it.

Didn’t he want more? She did.

“I don’t understand why we don’t want to take things up a notch,” Gretchen said. “What’s wrong with taking things to the next level? I love sex.”

“Ignore my sister,” Audrey said in a placating voice. “You don’t have to sleep with a guy to have a relationship move forward.”

“Like you would know, Miss Oh-oops-I’m-full-of-your-baby-batter-and-we-forgot-a-condom,” Gretchen retorted.

Audrey blushed, her face turning red from her ears to her hairline. “One time. One time!”

“This is crazy,” Violet said, “But have you tried actually telling this man that you like him and want to take things a step further? Because I find that grabbing a guy by the collar and telling him how you feel works wonders.”

“‘You will never do anything in this world without courage,’” Brontë chimed in. “Aristotle.”

“I knew she had one of those in her,” Gretchen said.

“She always does,” Audrey said fondly.

This was as bad as asking Edna and Agnes for advice. “Thanks, ladies,” Marjorie said politely. “You’ve given me a lot to think on.”

Maylee beamed at her from the far end of the table. “When in doubt, blow jobs.”

A chorus of snickers and giggles arose from the table, and Marjorie felt like the only one not in on the joke. She wasn’t going to just grab Rob and give him a blow job . . .

Was she? That seemed awfully like fourth base. Maybe three point five. She just wanted to see what two was like.

Maybe three.

Okay, she probably wanted to see three first.

Chapter Sixteen

Things were going pretty fucking good with Marjorie, Rob thought as he gazed at her from across the dinner table. She was animated as she told him another tale about another dress fitting and how she’d gotten her dress and it was almost half a foot too short. The bride had panicked and burst into tears, another bridesmaid had yelled at the seamstress, and someone else had gained weight and burst through her dress. Marjorie’s expression was a mixture of amusement and sympathy for the stressed bride, but he had to admit that he wasn’t listening to the story half as much as he was watching her movements. The way that she brushed her hair off her shoulders when she got animated. The way her eyes lit up when she talked about her friends. The graceful curve of her neck. Hell, he was even fascinated with the way her throat moved when she swallowed her drink.

He’d never been this bad over a woman before. Never.

What was fucking ironic was that he was okay with her being a virgin. He knew it going in, and he’d figured that he’d wine and dine her, seduce her into giving up her V-card, and then forget all about her. But the more time he spent with Marjorie . . . the more it didn’t matter. Having her comfortable with him, seeing her laugh and her animated smiles was worth so much more than pushing her to have sex just so he could get his rocks off.

Not that his rocks didn’t want to get off. They did. It was just that . . . Marjorie was more important. He could wait a month or two, or three. However long it took for her to be ready.

Marjorie was his. He knew her time here at the resort was growing limited, and he was working on a plan to see her again after the resort.

He just had to figure out a way to bring up who he was and what he did for a living.

It still amazed Rob that they’d known each other for a week and she hadn’t once googled him to find information out about him. She . . . trusted him. And that was both humbling and terrifying.