A Virgin Enslaved (Inhumanly Handsome, Humanly Flawed Alpha Male Erotic Romance) Read Online Free PDF Page A

street in River North, and that’s when I notice her. Elizabeth Tyrell – the very person I’m trying to avoid.
    Fuck .
    She steps out of a launderette, lugging two large laundry bags. She’s on the verge of being tipped over by their bulk and weight. She doesn’t seem to be trying to hail a cab either, and she is walking in one direction. I reckon she’s heading for the subway station ten blocks down.
    I really shouldn’t stop. All my instincts scream at me to run , step on the gas, pretend I never saw her and leave her alone to take the train and walk.
    Yes, that’s what I will do. Not something I’d do to any other employee as the CEO of my father’s company, but I’ll do it today.
    I step on the gas pedal, ready to rev off. She might see my license plate and wonder why I’m ignoring her, but I’ll pretend I never saw her. Besides, those laundry bags are so huge she’s having trouble peeking through them anyway.
    That’s when cosmic providence strikes.
    Stuff has a funny way of happening, and everything that unravels after this – now that I think about it – is meant to be.
    The first drop of rain spatters on my windshield. It’s a big drop too, the kind that makes a large splotch, scattering droplets of watery mayhem around it. Oh shit. Then more big drops splat – on the windshield, on my roof, on my windows, everywhere else. The road before me starts to pockmark and glisten with wetness.
    There’s no way in human decency I can’t stop now. Not to someone I know. And maybe my fucking subconscious wants me to stop, and I’m just giving in to its natural animalistic tendencies. I know I’m making myself sound like a lech, but I’m really not. I have the best of intentions by stopping for Elizabeth. I don’t want her to get wet (well, not in this way) and all flu-like so that she would have to call in sick tomorrow.
    I just won’t let her know I want to fuck her brains out. (And I mean that in the best possible way too.)
    Oh, what she does to me. I groan as I brake the Lambo beside her. My betraying cock is already stiffening at the thought of her beside me in this sleek, purring sexy beast of a car.
    Stop it , I can hear Sully’s voice saying, stop it right now. You’re not eighteen years old anymore .
    The screech of tires catches even her attention, as they do everyone else on the sidewalk, even though they are hurrying to get out of the rain. I almost feel as if I’m soliciting.
    I wind down the window. “Hey, Elizabeth Tyrell.”
    She pauses and turns in the rain.
    “Want a ride out of this weather?” I depress a button and the scissor door to the passenger side opens up like a James Bond contraption.
    She hesitates for a second. The rain is really coming down now in a sudden downpour, and that seems to make her mind up for her. She dashes to the passenger door and bolts in, her two laundry bags suddenly occupying my entire car as though three people have entered, and not one.
    I help her arrange everything as comfortably as possible, which is majorly difficult since this is not exactly a family issue car. But in a way, it’s a good thing. Laundry bags are a desire deterrent. My cock is a little less hard after all that activity.
    “You OK?” I say.
    “OK,” she replies a little breathlessly.
    “Just tell me where.”
    And we are off.

    *

    Elizabeth crashes in a cheap brownstone hostel, the kind that sublets cheaper apartments. There are no valets around, and so I park my car – with a little caution – in the dingy car park lot across the street. A couple of hoodlum-looking kids stare at it with interest.
    “It’s until I get my first paycheck,” she says apologetically.
    Fuck. I didn’t realize how cash-strapped she was. Suddenly, I’m no longer thinking with my libido but of her safety.
    “This isn’t a good area to be in, Elizabeth. Why don’t I loan you some money to go to a better place until you can find your feet?”
    “No thanks. I don’t take