Leather and Lace by Lauren Landish Read Online (FREE)
Read Leather and Lace (The Virgin Diaries #2) by Lauren Landish full novel online for free here.
I’m a whore.
Okay, that’s definitely not true. But it might as well be, because that’s what everyone thinks of me. I’ll admit I’ve earned that reputation with the biggest con job since Enron.
But it’s not all bad. I’ve gone to all the best frat parties, flirted, teased, and had fun grinding on the dance floor like every college girl should. So everyone just assumes the rumors are true, and I don’t say shit to dissuade their thinking.
Reality, of course, is very different. My biggest secret, the one that no one knows, not even my best friend, is that it’s all fake.
I’m not a whore. I’m a virgin.
It’s a front I chose a long time ago, refusing to play the victim to some stupid high school boy’s bragging and society’s judgement. As if Mother Nature’s gifts of tits and ass were something I should be ashamed of, blamed for. But as I played along as the casual hookup-prone vixen, I realized sex meant more to me. That’s when I decided to save myself for The One. He’s out there somewhere, that special man worthy of getting between my legs.
Not that I have time for that right now when all my time and attention are focused on one thing—my career. Well, finishing school and actually having a career, that is. After watching my parents struggle and how they drank their way through most of the meager college fund they’d set aside for me, I want more . . . more than the dead-end, soul-sucking jobs that barely paid enough to make ends meet that my parents had.
I’d hoped my summer internship at Morgan Inc. would be the first step toward that glossy, corner-office future I dream of, especially since it’s my first-choice company to work for after graduation. But my hopes of hands-on experience and seeing behind the curtain were quickly dashed, and I’ve spent the last few months answering the phones and greeting people. I’m willing to work and happy to pay my dues, but my desire for more bubbles beneath the surface every day, pushing me for more, more, more.
And with two weeks left before the end of my internship, I hope I’ve done enough for them to hire me during the school year. Maybe with fewer interns on staff, I can get that shot at the brass ring and really learn the things I need for my future.
And once I get there . . . then I’ll worry about finding Mr. Right.
I start, sitting up and shaking myself loose from my daydream of me as the boss of a big company, the reality of the plastic chair I’m sitting in mentally replaced by a leather chair in a corner office as I negotiate contracts with other big-wigs.
Checking the clock, I see I’ve still got a few minutes left on my coffee break. I look up to see Dora Maples standing in the doorway of the small breakroom. It’s not fancy—we’re first-floor, not the executive level, after all—but the coffee is decent and the vending machine has my favorite afternoon pick-me-up candy bar.