The Virgin Actress: A Billionaire and Virgin Romance

by Virginia Sexton

  “It’s nothing,” I say, smiling as I look into her big blue eyes. Her dress outlines her curves, revealing her devastatingly feminine and sexy body. I tear my eyes away from her and march to the elevators, jabbing the call button. Every time I try to turn my mind back to this deal, my mind goes back to the security guard. She’s very much not the type of woman I normally go for, but there’s something about her that I’ve never noticed before. But, there’s no way in hell I’m stupid enough to fuck the hired help downstairs. Last thing I need is some wide-eyed little girl mooning at me every time I walk by and weeping when I ignore her.

  Because I’m a one-time guy. It’s been years since I slept with the same woman twice. No, that’s not right, so let me re-phrase. It’s been years since I slept with the same woman for more than one night. Because you sure as hell better believe I can fuck a woman more than once or twice in a single night.

  I don’t turn on the lights as I enter my office. Hanging up my jacket, I slip off my tie and undo the top buttons of my custom-made, Egyptian cotton shirt, before dropping onto the leather couch.

  Thoughts of the young girl downstairs flood my mind. Her outfit was cheap, but there was a sweetness about her that caught me off guard. I unbuckle my pants, slipping my hand in. I run my hand up and down my thick shaft, imagining her on her knees, her sweet little mouth open and eager for my cock. A groan escapes my mouth as I rub the tip of my cock, wondering just how much of me she could take in her mouth and whether or not she knows how to suck a man off. Imagining the feel of her soft lips on my thick shaft, as she sucks the tip of my cock and tickles my balls, her big eyes wide and looking up at me, sends me off like a rocket and I come fast and hard.

  Panting, I lay on the couch a moment longer, surprised. It’s been ages since I masturbated, because why would I when all I have to do is look at a woman for her to bend over and beg me to fuck her? Eventually I get up and wash my hands in my private bathroom, then ditch my suit pants for a pair of jeans I keep in the closet. This is far from the first time I’ve needed a change of clothing before leaving the office.

  How the fuck am I going to win this deal?

  Raymond doesn’t immediately answer, the bastard, so I keep calling until he picks up.

  “Dude. Don’t you remember who I was with when you left? These ladies are magnificent. And imaginative…”

  “Sorry, Raymond. Business trumps pussy. You know that.”

  Raymond sighs and the sounds of muffled protests drift over the phone.

  “Okay. I have left those vixens in the next room. What can I do for you?”

  That’s right, I smile with satisfaction. You’re just another one on my payroll and you jump when I tell you to.

  “How are we going to make this deal happen? Losing is not an option.”

  “Look,” Raymond says, then takes a long pause.

  The tone of his voice makes me uneasy. He has the steady tone that he uses when he’s about to deliver bad news. My shoulders clench and I brace myself for what’s next.

  “This is a tough deal, Blake. And I know you know it. They’ve seen you splashed across the society and gossip pages, and on those tabloid sites online. They’re a wholesome company and they know that ‘wholesome’ is absolutely not the word to describe you. In fact, I heard one of them muttering ‘playboy’ after one of the meetings.”

  “The fuck?!” I say, my body surging with outrage and adrenaline.

  “Dude, really? This is a surprise to you?”

  “Absolutely not,” I say, still fuming. It’s one thing to be a playboy, because yeah, I am and I wouldn’t have it any other way. But I know that whatever corporate lackey called me a playboy meant it in a derogatory way.

  Raymond sighs again, and I can hear him tapping something on a table top.

  “How about calling one of your recent conquests and making a girlfriend out of her? That might appease them.”

  My body shakes as I laugh. “That’s the funniest thing I’ve heard all week. Raymond, you’ve seen the women I fuck. Any one of them would be stuck to me like an octopus if they even sniffed that they might get a ring. Besides, those women would certainly not pass the test for these conservative pricks.”

  “Well,” Raymond says, and I can hear the smile and laughter in his voice, “here’s another option. Hear me out. I’ve been thinking about suggesting this, but I didn’t think you’d go for it.”

  “Go on.”

  “Hire a fiancée.”

  “You mean like an escort?”

  “No, not an escort. And don’t interrupt,” Raymond chastises. “I mean, put an ad out. Maybe for local actresses, though you might have to deal with unions or whatever. Or, better yet, put an ad in the university newspaper. Find yourself a dewy-eyed young girl who reeks of innocence.”

  I ponder this for a moment. The idea of hiring someone makes sense – it’s what I’d do for any other business need I have.

  “That’s not a bad idea,” I say. I hear a whoosh as Raymond obviously releases a lungful of breath. “Okay. Let’s do it. Put an ad in the paper and set up the auditions or however you do this. Let me know when you have a shortlist and I’ll take it from there. Just make sure that this girl looks wholesome and isn’t a social idiot. She needs a certain amount of intelligence, too. No college bimbos.”

  “Got it, boss. We good for now?”

  “Yeah. Go back to those girls,” I say, now lamenting that I’m alone for the night, but I don’t have the energy to go back out tonight and play the game. “Enjoy the night.”

  I walk over to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the avenue and watch the lights of taxis and traffic signals.

  I’m intrigued by the idea of hiring a girl to be my fiancée for however long it takes me to close this deal and add that many more zeroes to my bottom line.

  Who will Raymond find for me?

  “Oh my god!” I say, clapping my hand over my mouth. My phone is ringing at top volume and at least a dozen students turn their heads and shush me loudly or glare at me. I’m in the library and it’s packed, so I don’t really blame them. My face burns with embarrassment as I grab my phone and fumble to turn the ringer off before I’m lynched by angry students.

  My phone finally quiet, I glance to see who it was. Of course, it’s Felicia, because who else would it be? It’s not like I’m a social butterfly or have time to date or anything. I text her back, after doublechecking the settings so that my phone will stay silent.

  CALL ME NOW

  Everything ok????

  CALL ME NOW

  Okay. In library. Hold on a minute.

  All I can think is that this better be good. Midterms start in two days and I’m so far behind studying for my history class, it’s not even funny. I pack everything into my backpack and head towards the exit of the library. It’s not like I want to be studying right now, as it’s one of the precious few days off from work I have this month, but with midterms coming up, I can’t afford to play hooky even for an afternoon.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, my voice hissing with exasperation. I take my backpack off and carefully put it on the ground. One day I can afford a new laptop – one that doesn’t weigh almost ten pounds.

  “Have you seen the paper today?”

  “What, the Times?”

  “No, Cammie,” Felicia responds, like I’m supposed to know exactly what she’s talking about. “The school paper.”

  “I’ve been studying all day. What’s so important?” I ask, wanting to get back inside before I lose the willpower to study on such a pretty Spring day.

  “I think I have a solution for your money problem!” Felicia is talking fast and I can hear the excitement in her voice. “Now, this could be a total scam ad, but it looks legit. Apparently, some business dude is looking for a girl to play his fiancée.”

  “What?” I say, rolling my eyes. “You got me out of studying for this. Felicia, come on. You know how much I need to study for my history exam. Anything less than a 2.5
and I’ll have to take the course over again. I hate these required classes…”

  “Cammie. Supposedly it pays ten-thousand dollars! You’ve told me about how you acted in high school, so why not give it a shot?”

  I go silent at the thought of that much money. The only time I ever have more than a couple hundred dollars in my bank account is when I get my student loan every quarter. I could buy new shoes. I could go out to that nice steakhouse Aunt Anne used to take me to on my birthday.

  “Earth to Cammie!”

  “Hey. Sorry,” I say, bringing my attention back to her. “I don’t know…”

  “Girl, I’ll go with you. I’m dying to see who this is for!”

  “It’s probably a total joke,” I say, sighing. “I mean, really. Some businessman can’t find a fiancée or a girlfriend to do this? It totally doesn’t make sense.”

  “Come on. It’ll take an hour or two, tops. I’ll come over this afternoon, take a couple of nice photos of you, then we can send off the application. They’ll totally pick you for an audition, I know it!”

  I open my mouth to refuse, but I know Felicia. She’ll show up in the library and drag me out if I say no.

  “Okay, okay. I do need to study more, but come over around seven?”

  “This is going to be so much fun!”

  Personally, I doubt that, but I’m willing to humor Felicia on this, plus seeing her will be a nice break from studying.

  —

  “I don’t know about this…” I say for what feels like the millionth time. The hallway is filled with pretty girls. Some are made up like they’re about to perform on a Broadway stage, others look like they ran out of a class and aren’t making any effort, and some look like they’re intentionally going for an ingenue look.

  “You are going to do fine,” Felicia says. Her eyes are sparkling and she’s so excited, you’d think she was the one here for a crazypants audition.

  “At least let me study while we wait,” I plead. I’m pretty sure I scraped by alright on my History exam, but now I have to worry about my Sociology exam.

  “Sure, sure,” Felicia says. “I’m going to check out your competition,” she says, getting up to wander around.

  Not for the first time, I wonder why she doesn’t try for this. I mean, it doesn’t sound very hard – act like someone’s girlfriend? How hard can that be? Maybe if the guy is smelly or insufferable, but for this kind of money, I think almost anyone could put up with a lot for a short period of time.

  Over the course of an hour, a woman who looks like a harassed secretary comes out, checks her iPad, then calls another name.

  “Are you ready?” Felicia asks, reaching out to smooth my blonde hair.

  “I swear. You need to never have children,” I say, swatting her hand away. “You would be the most overbearing stage mother. And I say this with love,” I add, smiling at her.

  “Yeah, whatever,” she says, but she’s laughing. “I just know what this could mean for you. You could quit that terrible job…”

  “A girl could dream, but that’s unlikely. Ten K is a lot of money, but that’s certainly not going to cover my expenses for even six months. I’d still have to work. Aunt Anne was great to save some money for my college, but it is so not enough! I can’t afford to take on anymore student loans than I already have.”

  “Yeah, yeah. You’re probably right.”

  “Camellia White,” the harassed secretary says, barely looking up from her tablet.

  “Here!” I say, raising my hand.

  “This way, please.”

  “Knock ‘em dead,” Felicia says, giving me a quick hug.

  —

  The harassed secretary leads me down the outer aisle of the school auditorium. I glance to the seats and can see a couple of men sitting in the center, but the house lights are dim and I can’t get a good look at who they are. It’s not as though I’m likely to recognize anyone, but I’m still curious.

  “You know how this works? Go on stage, state your name. They’ll ask you a few questions. We’ll contact girls later today, for those that we’d like to see again.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I say.

  Even though I was in a few plays when I was in high school, those were more for an interesting activity to do, not because I actually loved theater or acting. They were fun, sure, but it wasn’t something I was ever particularly passionate about.

  I walk to the middle of the stage and stop by a chair.

  “Um, hi,” I mumble. I’ve walked into a spotlight and can’t see a thing. I can’t believe I let Felicia talk me into this. There’s no way this mystery man will choose me, if this is even a real thing to begin with. I should be studying Sociology right now!

  “Please state your name and tell us a short summary about who you are and your acting experience. Please keep the summary short,” the secretary says.

  “Well,” I say, taking a deep breath. “My name is Camellia White. I’m a freshman here. I haven’t declared a major, but I’m thinking about studying business. As far as acting goes, I was in a few musicals in high school. That’s about it, really. Are there specific questions you’d like to ask?”

  “Do you currently have a job or other commitments that could interfere with the schedule that we’d need you to follow?” A male voice says.

  “I have a part-time job, yes, but my schedule is flexible,” I say, mentally crossing my fingers at the white lie. I really wish I could see who I’m talking to.

  “Alright. And do you have a boyfriend, who might object to this project?”

  I wish. “No. I’m a virgin!” I slap my hand over my mouth as soon as I’ve blurted out that embarrassing detail.

  “Do you know how to dance?”

  “Yes. Though could you be more specific?”

  “Waltz. Ballroom, that kind of thing.”

  “Yes. I’ve taken some classes and I’d be willing to take some refresher courses.”

  “Can you raise your arms and turn around for us. We need to see your body.”

  I freeze for a second. It makes me feel like a piece of meat, but I lift my arms and slowly turn around. This is totally ridiculous!

  “Just one moment,” the voice says, after I’m facing them again. I squint into the light, trying to make out the owners of the mumbled voices I’m hearing.

  “No. But what about the others?” I hear a voice say.

  “Her.”

  What? There’s no way he wants me. I hop from foot to foot as I hear footsteps approaching the stage.

  “I just need to verify your dancing skills,” a new male voice says.

  “I… sure…” I start to say, but freeze. Oh my God! It’s Mr. Sexy Suit!

  “Is there a problem?” he asks, a hint of smile quirking the corners of his lush mouth. His hazel eyes gaze at me and my brain is spinning so fast that it’s like a high-pitched whine. Mr. Sexy Suit hops up on the stage and walks towards me, his hand extended.

  I open my mouth but no words come out. This can’t be real. This can’t be real. Before I even realize what I’m doing, my feet are moving fast and I’m running off the stage.

  “What’s going on?” he calls after me.

  Grabbing my bag, I don’t stop moving and I slam into the door to the auditorium, frantically pushing the bar to open it. The door clanks as I heave it open. And then I keep running as fast as I can.

  I never run after women. Ever.

  She’s this mix of innocence and hopeless naïveté, and somehow, it’s grabbed something in me. As soon as I recognized her, I knew that I wouldn’t be happy with any of the other girls we had seen. Put her in the right dress and get her to smile a little bit, and I know she will be the perfect foil to use on the conservative investors. A pretty blue-eyed, blonde-haired girl? Who can resist that?

  It takes some work that isn’t exactly legal, but I track her down after she bolted from the theater. She and her friend are huddled in a coffee shop on the other side of campus. I send my driver, Toby, in to fet
ch her, because I’m too recognizable and don’t want to deal with the attention of a bunch of college kids angling for an internship.

  Camellia shakes as she steps into my waiting towncar. She’s wearing a denim skirt and a pretty pink blouse. Despite looking terrified, she wears the outfit with a grace and dignity that deflect the cheapness of her clothing.

  “Are you going to say anything?” I ask, both amused and aggravated at her silence. After years of women throwing themselves at me and never shutting up while they do, I’m impatient that Camellia is so quiet. It’s understandable that she’s scared of me, because hello, I’m me.

  She opens and closes her mouth a few times, clearly taking time to think of how to answer me. It’s bad enough that she’s pressed herself into a corner of the seat, like she’s trying to take up as little space as possible.

  “Why did you come after me?” she finally says.

  “I want to hire you.”

  “To be your fiancée?” she blurts out.

  “Yes. Look, you need to relax a little. I’m not going to bite you.” But I’m starting to want to fuck you, to get you to relax. I pause and shift my weight as my cock starts to harden. “Drink this,” I say, pouring two glasses of Scotch and offering her one.

  “I don’t think…”

  “Don’t think. Drink,” I command.

  Camellia is obedient and drinks, coughing afterwards.

  “Good girl,” I say, trying to be soothing. This girl is testing my patience, but no other girl has the spark Camellia does. I’d bet my entire fortune she doesn’t even know how pretty and compelling she is.

  “And for all that,” I say, finishing up my description of what I want and expect, “I’m willing to pay you twenty-five thousand dollars. The work should take three or four weeks, possibly a little longer.”

  “But… that’s more than twice what was advertised! That’s way too much!”

  “Nonsense. It’s nothing to me and something tells me you’re worth it.”

  “But…”

  My cock is painfully erect, just from watching this naïve girl. “But nothing! Do you want the job or don’t you?”