Seal'd Auction: A Bad Boy Military Standalone Romance

by Charlotte Byrd

  “Well, by the time the money runs out, you’ll have something written, right?” he asks.

  I shrug. “I don’t know. It’s not so easy. I mean, I have a lot of doubts. About myself. About my dedication and my ability to write.”

  “Let me tell you something, Ellie,” he says. “Let me tell you something that I have learned getting to where I have gotten. There are a lot of entrepreneurs out there with startup companies. We’re a dime a dozen. It’s a cutthroat business, not so unlike the writing business. When I first got started, I had my doubts too. But I also knew that there was nothing else that I wanted to do. Frankly, there was nothing else that I could do. So, I had to believe in myself. I had to give this a shot. And not just a shot. I had to do it until I could tell all of those people who told me that I needed a backup plan, that they’re full of shit. If you have a backup plan then you’ll end up doing your backup plan and not commit yourself fully to what you need to do. To succeed in anything, you have to do it 100%. And to succeed in a creative career, you have to do it until…”

  “Until what?” I ask.

  “You have to do it until all of your competition falls away. You do it longer than any other people. You do it despite the failures. You do it despite the setbacks. Failures and setbacks are what make other people drop out and that’s good for you. Because you keep doing it until it works out. That’s the only mindset you can have.”

  “But what if I’m not good?” I ask.

  “That doesn’t matter. If you enjoy writing, you will find your niche. It may be journalism, it may be fiction, it may be short stories, it may be romance or thrillers. And the other important ingredient besides determination is confidence. No one is going to believe you unless you believe in you. So, if you have to start the day with affirmations, telling yourself that you can and will become a writer, or better yet, that you are already a writer, then that’s what you have to do. Success starts with a mindset and everything else follows from hard work.”

  I nod and try to take that all in. I know in my heart that what he is saying is right and true, but my mind is having a hard time processing it. Accepting it.

  Suddenly, as if he can read my thoughts, Mr. Black leans over and pokes me in my chest with his index finger.

  “You have to believe in yourself right here,” he says. “And everything else will follow.”

  15

  When Mr. Black becomes less of a mystery…

  My feelings for Mr. Black undergo a change. What was just pure physical attraction and arousal suddenly changes and becomes something deeper and stronger. What is this thing that I’m feeling? Without my consent, my thoughts go back to Tom. I don't really know why he pops into my head, except that I’ve been in love with him for a very long time. It was always from a distance and, as a result, there was always a separation between us. But thinking about Tom now, in the presence of Mr. Black, I almost want to laugh. The infatuation that I felt for him was nothing in comparison to what I feel now. I feel actually drawn to Mr. Black. Like I have to have him and I’ll scream if I don’t. But I don't just have to have him sexually. I also want him emotionally. Oh shit. This could be bad.

  I watch as he walks over to the bar and pours himself a whiskey. He asks if I want one, but I decline.

  This is very, very wrong, Ellie. You can’t let yourself be swept off your feet by him. He’s a man who runs a large multinational company and owns a yacht and who knows what else. Be kind to yourself and protect your heart. He probably just wants you for the night and that’s it.

  “Why did you bid on me?” I ask. I don't know what made me ask that question at this moment except that maybe it’ll give me an idea of how he really feels about me.

  “I saw you when you first boarded the yacht. And at the cocktail party. You were not like the other girls there. I was drawn to you immediately,” he says without hesitation.

  “Is that why you sent me that dress to wear?”

  “Yes,” he nods. “I find it intoxicating telling women what to wear.”

  I sigh. There it is again. Women. He didn’t just want to dress me. He likes to dress women. No, I can’t get more emotionally involved with him than I already am. And it would be better to get a little bit less involved. This is not the type of man who can ever give me what I want.

  “What’s wrong, Ellie?” he asks.

  I shrug.

  “Nothing. I don’t know,” I say. And then before I have the chance to tape my mouth shut, I blurt out, “I just feel different being here with you. Different than I’ve ever felt.”

  Shut the fuck up, Ellie. What the hell are you doing? What’s going to happen next? You’re going to tell him that you think you might be falling in love with him? You just met him!

  “Different how?” he asks.

  I look away. “Different in a good way. But also kind of a scary way, I guess. I mean, I don’t really know anything about you.”

  “What would you like to know?” Mr. Black asks. Your name, for one, I want to say. But I bite my tongue. He already made it clear that he does not want me to know that.

  “Have you ever been married?” I ask.

  “Yes.”

  I’m taken aback by his frankness. I was definitely not expecting that answer. Mr. Black does not put off a married vibe. He definitely seems like a lifelong bachelor, but I guess maybe not.

  “What happened?” I ask.

  He pauses for a moment and looks down at the table and then back into my eyes.

  “I usually don't tell anyone this,” he says. I flash him a smile and wait.

  “I got married in college. We dated for two years and one day I just asked her to marry me. It was all very spontaneous and romantic.”

  “Sounds like it. So, what happened?”

  “I don’t know. We just went to city hall one afternoon and did it. But then things started to go wrong. She said she felt guilty that we didn’t have a big wedding and didn’t invite all of our friends and family. Then she said she needed time off and went home to Ohio. Not long after that, she called me up and said that she wanted a divorce because she was having a baby with her high school boyfriend.”

  I can see the pain on his face as he tell me the story. He can’t meet my gaze and when he finally looks up, he wipes a small teardrop that runs down the outside of his cheekbone.

  “That was the most difficult thing I’ve ever experienced,” Mr. Black says. “And I’ve never told anyone about it before. Not even a shrink.”

  I lean over and wrap my arms around his strong, powerful shoulders. On the outside he looks like a completely put-together man that nothing fazes. But now I’ve seen a glimpse of the truth. There are so many layers to him and I’ve just started to uncover them all.

  “So, why did you tell me?” I ask. He shrugs, shying away again.

  “I don’t really know. But there’s something about you Ellie. I just feel like I can tell you anything, my deepest darkest secrets, and it would all be okay.”

  “You can,” I whisper into his ear.

  I look at his face, examining every angle and pore. I admire the angle of his lips and the strength in his jaw. I brush away the few strands of hair that fall into his eyes.

  “So, what about you? Have you ever been married?” he asks.

  I laugh and shake my head.

  “Have you ever been close?”

  “No, not at all. For the last few years, I’ve been in love with a friend of mine, but he is engaged to someone else.”

  Oh shit. There’s that word. Love. That may be the truth, but I don't know why I said that out loud. To Mr. Black of all people. It’s not something that another guy wants to hear.

  “That can be difficult,” he says after a moment. “Unrequited love.”

  “Um, I don’t really know if it was love or not. I mean, maybe it was just some sort of infatuation.”

  “Isn’t that the funny thing about love?” Mr. Black asks. “It’s not until you start to feel something stronger that you
realize that what you felt before wasn’t love at all.”

  I’ve never thought of it that way. But I guess he’s right. You only have the experiences that you have and it’s not until new experiences replace them that you gain the knowledge of what you were truly experiencing.

  “So, let me ask you something else, Ellie,” Mr. Black asks. “What’s your biggest fear?”

  I don’t really know how to answer that. Does he mean a fear like heights or the fear of never really becoming a writer? Or the fear that I will never really fall in love and have someone love me back?

  “It can be anything really,” he says. “We all have fears.”

  “Why do you ask?”

  “Because I have a theory. I believe that what we are afraid of is the thing that we have to pursue in life because our fears give us insight into who we are.”

  “So, you think that people who are afraid of public speaking should become public speakers?”

  “Yes, probably. They are afraid of it for a reason and once they identify why that is and conquer their fear then they will be so much better as not only human beings, but also as individuals.”

  That’s one way of thinking about it, I’ll give him that.

  “I’m afraid of a lot of things actually,” I say quietly. “But I don’t like talking about those things.”

  He nods as if he understands.

  “Why not?” he asks.

  “I don’t know…I guess, they make me feel like I’m naked or something.”

  A coy smile comes over his face.

  “I have an idea,” Mr. Black says. “Why don’t we get into bed and you take off your robe and tell me what you’re afraid of it.”

  The thought of that sends shivers up my spine.

  “No, I can’t do that.”

  “You’ve done a lot more than that already.”

  “I know, but this is…private.”

  “No, it’s not private. It’s something you’re afraid of. Let’s just try it?”

  I look into his eyes. There’s an honesty and truth in them that I’ve never seen before in another human being. A part of me thinks this is a crazy thing to do and is resisting full on. But another parts asking, ‘what if.’ What if I did this? Would it be so horrible? Suddenly, my heart starts to beat faster. The thought of doing it makes me anxious, but in a good way. Excited.

  I walk over to the bed and remove my robe. I drop it to the floor and climb in. Mr. Black follows me there and gets in on the other side.

  I’m laying completely nude before him, while he is still dressed in his perfectly tailored suit and tie. He’s even still wearing shoes and his jacket. And yet, something about laying here before him, puts me at ease. There is no judgement. His eyes are full of adoration and love.

  He runs his fingers over the outside of my arm, around my collarbone and down my left breast, pausing briefly to admire my nipple.

  I take a deep sigh and let it out.

  “What are you afraid of Ellie?” Mr. Black whispers.

  I close my eyes.

  “I’m afraid of everything. I’m afraid of making mistakes so I live my life without taking any chances. I want to be a writer, but I’m afraid that I’ll fail so I spend my days writing quizzes instead of something that really interests me.”

  “And what interests you?” he asks, making his way down to my navel.

  “Well, right now, sex.”

  “And what about writing about sex?” he asks, teasing me.

  “I’ve never thought about it before. But it seems like a scary thing to do. I mean, what if people I knew read my books?”

  “And what if writing about this fulfilled your every desire and quenched every fear? What if it made you a writer? Would you take that chance?”

  I nod without opening my eyes.

  “Tell me how you would’ve wanted to lose your virginity, Ellie,” Mr. Black says.

  “What do you mean?” I open my eyes.

  “The real stories of how we lost our virginities are often fraught with conflict and are quite sad. At least, that’s my experience. So, I want you to tell me how you would’ve wanted to lose your virginity if you could do it again. Tell me your fantasy, Ellie.”

  I close my eyes and try to think about what he had just asked of me. I’ve never really given it much thought. But my thoughts return to what happened on the yacht today. This has been one of the most erotic and sensual experiences of my life. What would it be like to lose my virginity here?

  “I guess it would have to be at an auction,” I say slowly.

  “An auction? Really?” He is genuinely surprised by the concept.

  “Yeah. Actually, it was really sexy not knowing who was going to buy me, so to speak. It helped that most of the men on the boat were quite sexy, though,” I say, laughing.

  “But what about the old dudes?”

  “Okay, maybe in this make believe virgin auction only hot guys are allowed to participate.”

  “Yes, of course. Hot guys with lots of money,” he says. “Okay, keep going. I want to hear more about your fantasy.”

  “Well, I’m standing at the auction and the auctioneer makes me take off my clothes. I have to remove every last stitch.”

  “Mmm-mmm,” Mr. Black licks his lips.

  “And the auction goes high. There’s a bidding frenzy. Because all the men want me.”

  “I can see that. Does it go up to a quarter million?”

  “Yes, actually, higher than that. Remember, I am a virgin,” I say.

  “Wow, now that’s hot. Going where no man has ever gone before.”

  “And then a tall, dark, handsome man in the back gets the winning bid. Once they transfer the money to my account, he leads me away to his room and does bad things to me.”

  “Bad things like what?”

  “Actually, nothing like what we’ve done of course. I mean, I am a virgin. But he really pleasures me. And I pleasure him.”

  “I like the sound of that,” he says. Suddenly, he leans over and kisses me. His lips are soft and persistent and they force mine open. When our tongues touch, a warm sensation spreads through my whole body.

  He climbs on top of me. He wraps my head with his large hands and cradles it with his strong powerful body. When he starts to grind on me, I feel that large bulge that I’ve already felt, but have not yet seen.

  “Slow down,” I whisper. He looks up, briefly pulling away from my mouth.

  “I want to watch you undress,” I say.

  I feel the power dynamic between us shifting. I’m no longer his servant and now I’m the one who is making demands. He flashes me a smile, with a twinkle in his eye.

  “Okay, then,” he says and gets off the bed.

  He stands with his legs slightly apart and begins to take off his clothes. First he removes his tie and throws it over me. Jokingly, I put the loop over my head and drop it in between my breasts.

  “Mmmm, that’s a delicious look.”

  “Okay, okay, keep going,” I say.

  Next, Mr. Black removes his jacket and slowly unbuttons his starched, white shirt. Once it’s unbuttoned, I finally get a glimpse of that rock hard body that I’ve been feeling through his clothes. When he removes the shirt, I admire the outline of every muscle and indentation. His skin is tan and smooth without a single hair. His stomach is a perfect six pack even when he’s just standing there, relaxing before me. His shoulder muscles bulge out giving his broad shoulders a wide and rounded look, making me even wetter than I was already.

  I watch as his hands move to his pants and he slowly unbuckles the belt and the top button. It pops open with ease and the zipper quickly follows. Suddenly, the pants drop to the floor, exposing his strong powerful thigh muscles.

  “Someone didn’t skip leg day at the gym,” I joke.

  “Hell no,” he shakes his head.

  Once he steps out of his pants and removes his socks, all that’s left is tight, short, briefs. They’re black and fit him like a glove, perfectly ac
centuating the large hard-on that’s bursting out from underneath.

  “You like?” Mr. Black asks.

  I nod my head and lick my lips. When he tenses his stomach muscles to pull off his briefs, a defined V forms on the outside of them, pointing straight at his cock. I inhale deeply, unable to believe that I’m about to have all of this inside of me.

  His body is so perfect that I have to pinch myself just to convince myself that this isn’t a dream and that I didn’t accidentally die and go to heaven.

  “Are you drooling?” he asks, pulling off his briefs.

  I wipe my mouth and realize that yes, I actually am.

  “Well, it’s not every day that a girl sees something like this.”

  I have to physically force myself to look away from his body and to his face. But as soon as he stands back up, I know that there’s no way I will be able to. There’s a large, gorgeous, erect cock staring back at me.

  “Kiss me,” he whispers.

  “I thought you’d never ask,” I say and grab his cock and wrap my lips around him.

  “Oh wow, that’s not what I meant…but okay…” he says, moaning in pleasure.

  I’m not a girl who really enjoys blow jobs, not at all. In fact, most of the time, the thought doesn’t even really occur to me unless the guy asks. But Mr. Black is different. After everything he’s done to me tonight, after all the teasing and the flirting, I just had to have it. I love the way he fills up my mouth and I get wet thinking about what it would be like to have him inside of me. I want to have him like I never wanted to have anyone. No, it’s more than want. I need to have him.

  He puts his hands around my head and moves his body faster and faster in and out of my mouth. When I look up at him, I see that he has his head tilted back and his eyes closed from pleasure. But then suddenly, he slows down and pulls out of me.

  “Kiss me,” he says, lifting my chin up. I pull myself up on my knees, so that we’re almost at eye level. His voice sounds so desperate and raw and needy that it sends shivers through my body.