A Virgin for A Cold Billionaire

Arletta Jessica McDowell POV

"Your face is pale, honey. Are you okay?"

I, who had been staring blankly at the scenery outside the window, turned to the other side. Sammy looked worried and I did not blame him. "I am not okay, but do not worry. I will try to handle it."

Damn! I still had not been able to shake off the bad event in the elevator, so now I can't concentrate on anything else. At this rate, I should be able to find a good psychiatrist quickly, so that I could start therapy right away. "What has happened to you, honey? Tell me."

I could not bring myself to tell him what I had experienced, because it was traumatizing. I just shook my head, thinking it was better for my boyfriend not to know than for us to fight.

"Do not keep all your feelings to yourself, honey." Sammy did not give up either, but I did not care. If he had heard my story, he would definitely have had a different opinion.

"Do not force me, dear. I do not like it." I replied in a low voice, because I was tired of what had happened, and just wanted to forget about it.

"Okay." I could see Sammy's annoyed look, but it was better than having to say something that traumatized me.

I shifted my gaze to my lap and saw a bag of food that had the logo of the restaurant where I had entered for the day. I opened the bag and faintly smelled the fragrance of the food from there.

"Do you want a cheeseburger, honey?" I asked as I picked up a burger that was still neatly wrapped. It's better to eat so I can distract myself from the pain.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

"Yes, I do want it. Did you get a chance to buy it?" Sammy answered, but there was a sense of curiosity.

I turned to him and nodded in response. Wasn't Sammy hungry? But, if he ate food while driving a car, wasn't it dangerous for us? Should I feed him so that my boyfriend can eat his burger without disturbing his driving?

"Yes, dear. When I was at the restaurant, I took away two cheeseburgers. Do you want to eat them now?" I took out one burger and was ready to unwrap it if needed.

"I can't eat right now, honey." The man who had been my lover for three years refused, but I did not want to give up yet, because it was better to feed him than to talk about what was troubling me.

"I can feed, so you do not have to use your hands." I knew Sammy's weaknesses well. He did like to eat, but it was balanced with exercise, so his body remained muscular and fit.

My guy was silent, so his actions were curious. However, I have not filed a protest yet because I am still waiting for a comment from Sammy. One minute passed and there was no sign that he was going to reply after waiting for a few minutes there was no change either which made my patience run out.

"Honey, how is it? Do you want to eat the burger or not?" I asked in a slightly higher tone, annoyed at being ignored. What was so hard about responding? Sammy was so annoying!

"Later, honey." Sammy replied briefly which made me snort.

I did not want to talk about the same thing. I finally unwrapped the cheeseburger that I had been holding and started eating slowly. Sammy did not say anything else, so our conversation ended.

Suddenly, Arlan's face came back to mind. I could still feel the passionate kiss we had. Damn it! I hate that pervert man! This must be the result of a disgusting situation that happened unexpectedly. If it was like this, would I be able to sleep well tonight? I guessed not.

How could Dad have a client like Arlan? He was a creepy guy and even asked for my cell phone number. It was a good thing I was persistent in refusing; otherwise, it would have been a disaster!

"Honey."

I, who was still munching on my burger, faintly heard someone talking, but since I was preoccupied with my own thoughts, I did not immediately respond him. "Arletta. Are you okay?"

I snapped out of my trance when I heard my name being called, as soon as possible turning my head towards the caller. That man frowned as if something strange had happened to me. "What was wrong with you, Honey? You have been daydreaming a lot this afternoon," Sammy asked, confused.

"I plan to see a psychiatrist," I replied, without thinking.

God! Why did I even give such an answer? Grr! Hopefully, Sammy would not ask me any more weird questions and I would quickly eat my cheeseburger again, to stop any unnecessary conversations. My boyfriend was still driving, but his look implied something strange.

"Why did you want to see a psychiatrist? I knew something must have happened, but you did not want to be honest."

I pretended that I had not heard and was sorry that I had given the wrong answer, so Sammy would definitely use that as an argument.

"Letta. Why are you so quiet?"

What could I say? Sammy must have been curious and he was already chasing answers to fulfill his curiosity and he did it.

"I am eating and can't speak. Can't you see it?"

I continued eating, sick of fighting. How long could I endure being in a relationship that fights more every time we meet? Fortunately, Sammy was quiet now, so we did not have to fight any longer.

I heard the familiar sound of music and it came from inside the bag. I put the burger in the bag and then searched for a tissue in the car. When I found a tissue, I took it and wiped my dirty hands.

Sammy was still driving, but I was sure he would overhear my conversation later. The same music continued to play. Who was calling? Was it Mom? Yes, it could have been Mom, since I had not told her about what Dad had said when we met. I opened my bag and picked up my cell phone. It kept beeping and when I looked at the screen, I realized I was right: Mom. She must have been eager to find out what Dad had to say, even though, come to think of it, it could all be done at home. Huh!

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Without thinking, I answered Mom's call and deliberately put my phone on speaker, reluctant to put it to my ear. I glanced at Sammy, but he seemed to be taking it all in stride.

Me: "Hello, Mom."

Hopefully, I will not be having any problems sleeping tonight. Should I have to turn on the light when I sleep until I get treatment from a psychiatrist? I could not sleep with the lights off, because my nyctophobia had returned. Mom: "Hello, Lizzy. How was there?"

Oh, yeah. Mom had always been impatient and I was not surprised that this happened.

Me: "Dad was so ridiculous, Mom."

Mom: "What did he say to you?"

Me: "Dad asked me to stop working part-time, Mom."

Mom: "What? What was the reason?"

Mom's voice raised slightly. I could sense that she was as upset as I was.

Me: "Dad was saying to me that-"

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