His Nasty Virgin

JESSE

I’ve seen much worse.

Her soft voice played on repeat in my mind. Gentle.

Kind.

The faintest trace of something sad.

I rode the elevator from the underground parking garage up to the twentieth floor. The doors opened directly into the penthouse suite, which could only be accessed via a programmable fob I had attached to my car keys.

It was only fitting that the head of a security firm outfitted his home like a fortress. Safety was always top of

mind for me. And speaking of safety… Vivian.

Her entire neighborhood -not just her building- was questionable. I counted no less than seven broken streetlamps, only two patrol cars making their rounds when there should have been at least five, two shady deals in dark alleyways, and a significant homeless population camped out in the nearest public park.

Her apartment was also super sketchy. No doorman or concierge. No security cameras out front to keep an eye on people’s comings and goings. Her door was flimsy at best, though it was the door frame I took issue with. Medium-density fiberboard. Cheap shit is used to save contractors money. If someone wanted to get in, all it would take was a few good kicks. Her portable lock was laughably cute, though I silently gave her props for being prepared.

I knew it shouldn’t matter to me. We didn’t know each other. It wasn’t my place to tell her how to beef up her security or recommend she carry around mace. But something deep down, some tiny voice in the back of my head, felt compelled to make sure she was alright. The logical side of me said I’d be overstepping. The illogical side…

The illogical side wanted to know what she had hidden under her shapeless blazer. Why would a gorgeous angel like her want to hide beneath such a modest getup? Its only purpose was to let my imagination run wild.

The penthouse lights switched on automatically as I passed through the living room and traipsed toward the kitchen, shrugging off my suit jacket and folding it over the back of the bar stool. I poured myself a finger of whiskey from the small liquor collection on my island bar. The liquid burned down.

I had to stop thinking about her. I had to stop thinking about the way she smelled of vanilla and the way her cheeks and the tips of her ears turned pink when she was caught off guard. I had to stop thinking about the sound she made in the car, the light hitch of her breath when I reached over to help her.

Luscious black hair. Full, pink lips. Doe eyes with long, curling lashes that made my chest tighten. I could have kissed her right then. I’d wanted to. But that would have been wrong. Maybe that’s what I found so appealing.

I shook my head and finished my whiskey.

Something was wrong with me. It was inappropriate, being this turned on by someone so young. This desire I felt was alarming. Had I finally hit the threshold of becoming one of those dirty old men? My half-hard cock certainly thought so.

She was just so magnetic. Enticing. Good enough to eat.

My phone rang. I answered immediately even though it was well after business hours. The thing about being your boss was you never had a day off. I was on-call at all times just in case one of the bodyguards on my roster needed assistance.

“Hey, Jesse,” came the overly sweet voice I recognized in an instant.

Melissa. Talk about a boner killer.

“What do you want?” I snapped.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Melissa cooed. “I just wanted to check on you.”

If that wasn’t a red flag, I didn’t know what was.

“You never check up on me unless you want something.”

“That’s not true, Jesse.”

“Get to the point or I’m hanging up.”

She sighed dramatically. “I need to borrow a thousand dollars.”Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

Red flag number two.

“Borrow? Or spend and never pay me back.”

“Look, I’m in a bit of a bind.”

“Not my problem. I already pay you alimony out of the ass.

Go ask that son of a bitch boy toy of yours.”

“Alexei isn’t a boy toy.”

“Goodbye, Melissa-”

“Wait, wait!” she exclaimed. “Come on, Jesse. Won’t you please be reasonable? You make tons more now than when

we got divorced. A grand means nothing to you.”

“You’re right, it doesn’t.”

“So can’t you spot me the money?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. “What do you need it for?”

“I made a bad bet,” she replied coolly. “Thought I’d try my luck at my girlfriend’s poker game. I just wanted to have some fun, but I wound up losing more than I bargained.”

“This sounds like a you problem.”

“Jesse,” she said, lowering her voice. “Please? For old-time’s sake? You used to take care of things like this for me all the time when we were together. Didn’t all that time mean anything to you?”

I had to give credit where credit was due. Melissa always knew how to get me right in the gut.

Of course, our time together meant something to me. It had meant everything. I loved Melissa with all my heart. She was the first and only woman I’d ever truly loved. I was poorer then. Just an Army man counting down the days I had left on each tour to motivate me until I could get back to her. I wanted to give her everything. Would have worked my hands to the bone to give her a good life.

Then I came home early from overseas to find her in our bed with another man.

She tore our family apart. She destroyed our marriage. And worst of all, she broke me.

And if she thought she could weaponize what I once felt for her into doing her bidding, she was more of a brazen idiot than I gave her credit for.

“No,” I said flatly. “Out of the question.”

“Jesse-”

“I said no.”

The line went so quiet I thought Melissa hung up on me.

“You’re a prick, you know that?” she seethed. “I never ask you for any favors. I just need your help this one time, James. I should have known you’d be this cold, you selfish asshole.”

I didn’t say anything. There wasn’t any point. Melissa would only scream over me, and I’d rather not waste my energy or breath attempting to get a word in. It was much more entertaining to listen to my ex-wife make a fool of herself. Her venomous words didn’t affect me like they used to. I was numb to her criticisms at this point. Like listening to white noise. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of breaking me again.

“You’re so fucking self-centered, you know that? Alexei’s more of a man than you’ll ever be.”

I forced a smile and spoke through gritted teeth. “Then why don’t you ask to borrow his money?”

“Listen here, you son of a-”

I hung up and tossed my phone onto the counter. God. What a way to end the day.

The elevator pinged softly, alerting me of someone’s arrival. Only two other people in the world had programmed fobs that gave them access to the penthouse: the building manager and my son.

Wally strode in, a heavy backpack slung over his shoulder. He dropped it by the couch and toed off his shoes. He looked disheveled with his baggy jeans and an oversized band t-shirt. I would never understand my son’s insistence on wearing gold chains and his hair up in a bun. He looked like he lived at a skatepark, not in a luxury condo on the upper-class side of Chicago.

“Hey, Dad,” he said groggily.

“Hey. How’d that biology test go?”

He handed me a handful of papers, all of them stapled neatly in the upper left-hand corner. Red check marks littered the pages, a massive 100% scrawled on the front. A perfect score.

I flipped to the back and frowned. “You didn’t get the bonus?”

Wally rolled his eyes. “Nobody did.”

“You’re smarter than them,” I insisted. “You should have been able to get it.”

My son groaned. “Would it kill you to tell me I did a good job? Or would you require a blue moon?” I nodded slowly. “No, you’re right. Good job, kid.” He looked at me expectantly. “But?” he supplied.

“But I heard back from Mrs. Packer today. She called the office and let me know you skipped MCAT tutoring again.” Wally tried to walk right past me and head to his room, but I put a hand on his shoulder and reeled him in. “Come on, man. We talked about this. You need the extra practice.”

Wally chewed on the inside of his cheek. I didn’t understand why he looked so nervous. “About that… Dad, I wanted to talk to you about-”

I snapped my fingers, a thought suddenly occurring to me. “I just remembered… I reached out to Vincent Hargrove this morning.”

Wally frowned. “Vincent Hargrove? As in the head of the Department of Health?”

I nodded. “He hired Pegasus Star at the last minute to run point for his daughter’s security team while she’s visiting Seattle. He owes me several favors, so I asked if he could give you a summer internship working for him.”

“Dad, I don’t-”

“You’d start in May, once the semester’s over. It’d look great on your applications to med school.”

Wally grimaced. “You really shouldn’t have, Dad.”

“Anything to give you a leg up. Trust me, it’s not what you know, but who you know.”

“No, I mean you really shouldn’t have, Dad. I already have plans for the summer.”

I set my jaw. “Doing what?”

He scratched behind his ear. “Well, there’s this program in Paris that I want to attend.”

I smiled, pride rising in my chest. “That’s great.”

“It is?”

“Yes, of course. I’m glad you’re finally taking some initiative about your career. What hospital is it with? I guess nothing beats field training-”

“It’s not for med school,” Wally snapped, exasperated. “It’s for a culinary program.”

“A culinary program?” I echoed. Disbelief washed over me. This was coming out of left field and I wasn’t prepared to make the catch. “Why would you want to attend a culinary program? That wouldn’t benefit your resume in the

slightest. I’m not paying for you to goof off.” “Oh my God, Dad,” he grumbled.

“What?”

“You never listen.”

“What are you talking about? I’m listening right now, and what I’m hearing is that you don’t want to apply yourself and do something beneficial for your future.”

“No, you’re not-” Wally huffed. “Never mind. Forget it.”

“Where do you think you’re going?”

“To bed. I’m tired.”

He stomped down the hall and slammed his bedroom door shut behind him. It was the last I saw of him all evening.