Virgin for Sale

Batting away my tears, I stand up and pace. My nerves are shot.

Tonight, I’ll be having sex with a stranger, and it won’t be giving me the fairy tale either. I’m quite happy about that actually. I don’t want the fairy tale. I was never one to love a prince. I loved the beast and always felt ripped off that he didn’t turn back. Why would anyone want a weak prince when they could have that incredible beast of a man?

See, weird. Totally weird.

There are no windows in the room. Just one door. A large, four-poster bed dominates the room, and they have a thing about mirrors as well.

So many mirrors that no matter where I look, I see myself.

My brown hair is a mess from running my fingers through it. My eyes are wide. I’m a little afraid. Terrified, really. The clothes I’m wearing are nothing sexual. Malcolm told me I didn’t have to dress up, that part of the charm of option two was the realness of it all.

Why did I opt to just get fucked?

This is business.

I had always fantasized about what my first time would be like. Touching a man, being touched. Not once did I think it would be to the highest bidder. Still, not having the dream experience means that more security is in place. There would be a man posted outside the door just in case.

If at any point the mystery man decides to use his fists, or hurt me, I’m to scream. The guard would be in and all will be okay. He’d deal with the man and I’d still get paid.

The fear is back.

I’ve never been good when it comes to pain.

I’m the kind of person who cries when she cuts her finger. Wow, this is going to suck big time.

Staring straight ahead, I feel my heart pound, which gets worse as I hear a knock on the door.

I glance around the room. Should I answer? Why are they knocking?

Biting my lip, I can’t stop frowning.

The knock comes again.

else am I supposed to say? This isn’t my home, nor is it my room.

“May I come in?”

voice is dark and

My heart rate triples.

Shit.

This is really happening.

virginity, and now I have to pay

nervous I sound. Does

I wait for

One.

Two.

Three.

Four.

Five.

opens. I look away, almost afraid of who I’ll find entering

I did this.

bought me for the night, but this

part

turn and

what I

standing by the door is indeed older; late thirties maybe. Not that I can tell all that much from staring at him. He looks at me, his hands by his sides,

No.

into his deep blue eyes, I am taken aback by how he watches me, assessing. There is something dark beneath that gaze that keeps me

man who’s

because I didn’t demand the fairy tale, it doesn’t have

his face, he is more than willing to give it

“Stand up,” he says.

exactly as