Page 41 of Out of the Gold

I blurt, “Why are you being so nice to me?”

He takes two steps and is in front of me. “Because I find that I like you, Goldie. You’re funny. You’re smart. You’re fantastic at your job”—he pounds his chest—“which only makes me look better.”

I offer him a small smile.

He stares at my lips.

His head travels toward me, and my brain explodes with desire to feel his lips covering mine. We’re all alone in here—no interruptions, no paparazzi. Nerves rise up, but slip away as his soft lips cover mine.

If this kiss is a mistake, it’s the best one I’ve ever made.

My mind turns to mush and my limbs grow weak. I wrap my arms around him to stay upright. But I don’t need to, because his sturdy arms encircle my body and bring it flush against his hard, muscular one. I want to purr like a kitten and rub my softness all over him. I settle for a moan.

He caresses my lips with his, asserting ever-increasing pressure, which heightens the pleasure rampaging through my body. His tongue traces the seam of my lips, begging for entrance. I open my mouth and he swoops in, sending shivers exploding in all directions.

Charles’s hands drop to my butt, and suddenly I’m wrapping my legs around his torso and being transported across the room. The plush bedding welcomes my back as I’m deposited onto it. His shirt flies over his head.

I don’t have time to revel in the hard planes of his absurdly defined torso when his mouth returns to mine and his tongue continues its exploration. He tugs my dress upward. “Lift your hips,” he implores.

Without any thought, I comply and my dress sails over my head and lands on the floor. His eyes roam over my nearly naked body, bouncing over my bikini. A large hand lands on my boob. His finger dips inside the cup. It runs over my nipple.

“Oh!”

“Like that?”

My mouth opens, but nothing comes out. A thought that he’s going too fast tries to catch my attention, but like a delicate stitch, it disappears when he pinches my nipple. Charles reaches behind me and undoes the ties. My bikini top soon joins my dress on the floor.

“So beautiful,” he growls.

His mouth lowers, and his tongue flicks where his fingers just were, causing my body to ripple beneath him. Nibbles on my rock-hard nipples cause my core to contract, followed by the laving of his tongue. He pulls back and smiles at me, his face flushed.

Maybe it’s the overwhelming feelings flooding my body, or maybe it’s the change in his coloring, but the thought I ignored a minute ago resurfaces. With friends. I need to tell him.

“Charles.”

He kisses me again. “I love that you use my real name.” His hand skims to the elastic at the top of my bikini bottom.

“Charles,” I repeat with a bit more force.

Above me, he stills for a moment, then dips to kiss my neck.

I close my eyes and revel in the tingles exploding throughout my body. My excitement is short-lived, though, as that damn voice inside my head screams—tell him, tell him, tell him.

I suck in a breath.

Tell him, Tell Him, TELL HIM.

I blurt, “I’m a virgin.”

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