Emily’s eyes looked like she had been physically slapped. She closed them tightly, as if that would make everything go away. Having Emily in my arms and her soft body against mine as my cock was stroked felt good, but not good enough to put up with the bitch doing it.

Dean stepped into the room, taking in the scene with a disapproving look on his face. He was worried about Emily. Like I was going to fucking hurt her. I was going to be gentle. Love her until she came on my face, my tongue, and many times on my dick before this day was done.

The girl behind me was rubbing her tits against me as she began kissing my neck. “Get her off me before I lose my shit!” I yelled.

Dean moved fast, pulling the girl off me. I scooped Emily up in my arms and headed for the bedroom I’d slept in last night. It was the only bed her skanky-ass cousin hadn’t fucked in. I wasn’t putting this angel on dirty sheets.

“What are you doing?” Emily asked.

“Getting the hell away from your crazy cousin. I want you alone.”

Emily didn’t respond right away. I shoved open my bedroom door and kicked it shut behind me, then stalked toward the bed to lay her down. She scrambled to sit up and scoot away from me.

“She was right. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t do it. I told you I wasn’t like her.” The panic in her voice made me feel guilty but equally pissed me off. I’d had her going soft and sweet in my arms until the damn cousin had come in here bitching.

“I’m not asking you to do anything you don’t want to, angel. I just want to take that mouth again.” I leaned down over her and pressed a gentle kiss to her lips. “You liked that, didn’t you? Let me have that mouth.” I kept my demand soft. And just like fucking butter, Emily melted into me.

When her mouth opened under mine, I took it. Laying her back, I positioned myself between her legs. Her hands were back in my hair, and I loved that. Sweet Emily was holding on as I claimed that mouth.

I pulled one of her legs up my hip. Never in my life had I hated jeans more than I did right now. Women did not come to me in damn jeans. They wore shit that was easy access. I wasn’t used to jeans.

“Angel, I want you naked. You gonna let me have that?” I asked, as I kissed her ear and ran my nose along her neck.

She froze under me, and then she trembled. I loved trembling. That was a good sign.

“No.” That was not a word I liked. I was starting to fucking hate it.

I jerked Emily’s leg back up my hip and pressed my erection against her warm cunt. Fuck, I wanted in there. “I’ll make it good, angel. So fucking good. I swear. Best you’ve ever had. Let me have that cunt.” I was begging for pussy. I had never begged for pussy.

I rubbed her harder, and a soft moan escaped her. She was warming up to me. I’d get some sweetness real soon. Just had to work it a little more and get this angel horny for it. I liked having to work for it. I never had to work for pussy. This gave me a fucking thrill.

“I’m a virgin,” she whispered, her eyes closed tightly and her breathing erratic.

This time, I froze. Looking down at the beauty underneath me, I saw her cheeks were flushed and her mouth slightly open. She was fucking turned on, and the picture of a turned-on angel was almost too much.

Damn it all to motherfucking hell! I wasn’t going to be able to do this. Not to a virgin. Sweet angels didn’t give their virginity to guys who just wanted to fuck them before they hit the road the next day.

“Fuuuuuuck!” I growled, jumping back off her and stalking across the room. I had to get some distance. Because right now, that pussy I knew would be sweet and tight just became the tightest and sweetest pussy I’d ever been that close to.

I ran my hands through my hair and jerked at the end, wanting to yell and throw a bunch of shit. How was she a virgin? She had a body that screamed “Fuck me!” and a smile that made cocks hard everywhere. Damn face of hers could make a man do stupid shit. Seriously stupid shit.

So how was she still a goddamn virgin?

“I tried to tell you.” Her voice was so soft I almost didn’t hear it over my mad ranting. I stopped pacing the floor and cursing to look at her. She had drawn her knees up under her chin, and she was watching me. Those eyes that made men want to sin were unsure and nervous.

Why had I gone so fucking apeshit over a woman? I never did this. Ever. Fuck me. I could fuck all damn day and not have to fuck the same pussy twice, if that’s what I wanted. So why her?

She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and dropped her eyes.

That was my answer. Because I had never had sweet. Fucking ever.

And I wasn’t starting now. Emily deserved more than this. I didn’t even know her. Would I even like her?

“I’m sorry,” she said “If you’ll let me, I can go get Sonya, and we can leave.”

She was apologizing to me, though she owed no fucking apology to me, and she was still worrying over that slut cousin of hers who needed to be bitch-slapped. She wasn’t stripping off her clothes and trying to suck my damn dick. She didn’t care that I was Kiro Manning. She wasn’t asking for anything from me.

Well, fuck me. Yeah, I liked her. Who the hell wouldn’t? Why was she single? Shit didn’t make sense. This girl should be pampered and taken care of. Some lucky motherfucker should be worshipping the ground she walked on.

“Come here, angel.” I held out my hand to her. She studied it a moment, then looked at my face. Whatever she saw, she trusted. Her small hand slipped into mine. It was so damn feminine. Pretty pink fingernails and dainty fingers. I could see it wrapped around my cock, driving me to the best fucking orgasm of my life. No! I had to stop.

Not with Emily. This needed to end. No sex. She was off-limits. I wanted to preserve this. I didn’t want my angel sullied. She was perfection, and I wanted to be close to that. To breathe it in.

“If I order some food, will you stay and eat? We can watch a movie.” The words were foreign coming out of my mouth. Never in my life had I spoken them to a female.

At first, I thought she was going to say no again. But a small smile touched her lips instead. “OK,” she replied.

June 1992

Emily

This was my fourth date with Will Burton, and tonight he had kissed me. Finally. It hadn’t been earth-shattering, but it had been nice. He was a good guy. The kind who fit the white-picket-fence-with-two-kids-and-a-dog mold. I could see that life in his future, but I wasn’t yet seeing me in his future. I had tried several times. I just had to keep giving him time. Things could change.

I set my purse down on the kitchen counter and slipped off my heels before pouring myself a glass of juice. The popcorn at the theater had left me thirsty. Just as I started to take a drink, my phone rang. I stared at it a moment. If that was Sonya wanting to know the details with Will, I wasn’t in the mood. I moved over and checked the caller ID.

Private caller lit up the screen. Kiro.

Smiling, I picked it up. “Hello, you,” I said.

“Hey, angel. How has your week been?” he asked, making me feel warm all over. I walked over to the sofa and sank down on it, tucking my feet underneath me. Kiro called once a week. Some weeks, I got two calls. He liked to check in. He would tell me about the tour he was on, and I would tell him about life here.

“Busy. But I don’t work tomorrow, so I’m looking forward to being lazy all day. I may not leave my apartment. How has your week been?”