Dirty Little Virgin: A Submissives’ Secrets Novel

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Dirty Little Virgin: A Submissives’ Secrets Novel Page 199

by Michelle Love


  I am about to become a homeowner. A thing I’ve never been. I will be the lord of this castle. Ruler of the many it will take to keep this place running like a well-oiled machine.

  Turning around to go back inside, I find myself laughing. “I’ve never overseen servants and groundskeepers and people like that. I hope I’m good at it.”

  “I’m sure you will be, Mr. Girard. Now, when would you like to meet to sign the papers and set up financing?” she asks as we walk toward the front door.

  “I’ll be paying in cash. If the seller accepts my offer.” I take her clipboard and write in the amount I’m willing to pay for the place. “I’ve managed to squirrel away a few dollars.”

  The fact is, with no bills, and making the money I make as CEO now, I’m a multi-billionaire. There never was any doubt I’d meet my goal to become one. I set that goal when I was a child and it took a little over twenty-five years for that to come to fruition but I made it happen.

  The other goal I have is to make sure my life stays happy and carefree. Well, carefree as far as women go. Women and children have limited roles in my life.

  Do I like kids?

  Sure, but on a limited basis.

  Do I like women?

  Again, sure, but on a limited basis.

  I don’t consider myself a user of women. I do consider myself a man who knows himself and knows what he wants. Am I capable of having a real relationship?

  Of course, I am.

  Do I want one?

  Of course, I don’t!

  Women are beautiful creatures. Their bodies come in all shapes and sizes and that’s wonderful to me. Why settle on one when you can have so many?

  My father is still reaping the benefits of bachelorhood. My mother is a very happy single woman. I think I’ll be fine as a single man who has fantastic weekends with women who expect nothing from me, other than amazing sex.

  I can deliver that two nights a week. Work has me exhausted the other five, anyway. I never realized how hard my father actually worked until I took over his role in the company. It’s a huge job. It takes forever. And so many people depend on me now.

  With all that responsibility, why on Earth would I add in a wife and kids?

  Why would anyone?

  It makes no sense to me. I have tons of beautiful women at my fingertips two nights a week and all day on Sunday. Who could ask for more?

  I’m not greedy. I’ve seen men who are married and have families and still dabble with the women at my father’s parties. They’re walking a tightrope. If they ever got caught, they’d lose half of everything they’ve managed to gain.

  I, on the other hand, have nothing to fear. I’ve watched men run and hide when their wives have shown up, unexpectedly. I’ve helped many to dash out secret doors and get to cars their wives knew nothing about while making sure those women were treated well while they looked for their errant husbands.

  I don’t want that. I don’t want to look over my shoulder for the one woman who wants to hold me down. I don’t want to change into a man who is a hypocrite. Telling the woman, he’s made a life with, to be faithful, while he whores around.

  That’s just mean. Why do that to another person? Why hurt people like that?

  You don’t have to if you keep it all real. Don’t make false promises, like I love you and I will always love only you.

  If it’s not even possible!

  I see no reason to lie to a woman. I see no reason to lie to myself. I like women. I always will. But I will never see fit to cage myself or any woman into a life of dread, deceit, and anarchy.

  Yes, some call it love. Is it really something so easily captured with one word, though? Is it really so easily done?

  ‘I do’ can turn into, ‘I can’t’ in the blink of an eye. Why put myself or some poor woman through that torture?

  Not a thing I’d like to do. Not a thing I have a goal to do.

  Not a thing I want!

  “I know the owners will go for this amount. So, how about tomorrow then?” the real estate lady asks me. “I can have you and this house together before you know it. I just know you’ll treat her well, Mr. Girard. Give her that tender loving care, she’s been needing. You’ll have this estate blossoming in no time. I can’t wait to see her with your hand on her.”

  Staring at the woman, blankly, I shudder as she sounds as if she’s talking about a woman. Suddenly, owning a house sounds like a huge commitment.

  “I’m going to think on it,” I say as I walk out the front door.

  “I thought we had a deal,” she calls out to me, waving her hand, frantically.

  Ducking into the back of my car, I slam the door. “Drive away, Beau. That woman is trying to tie me down!”

  As he speeds away, I turn back and see her slumping as she walks to her car. I may have just cost her some of her time but she was about to trap my ass with that house.

  And I cannot have that…

  Chapter 5

  CYPRIAN

  “What do you mean, you don’t want to be tied down to a house, Cyprian?” my father asks me as he looks at me over his morning cup of coffee.

  “It sounds awful,” I say as I look over the stock report in the New York Times. “Have you seen the price of pork bellies, it’s atrocious?”

  “I have,” he says as he pushes the paper, gently down and looks over it at me. “You should stay away from them. About the house. You need one, Cyprian. Every man needs a castle to call their own.”

  “This place is great. Why move away?” I ask as I fold the paper and put it aside.

  “It’s not that I want you to move away,” he says as he taps the cherry wood table we eat breakfast at on the weekdays in the small breakfast nook just off the main kitchen. “It’s just that you seem a bit stifled. You haven’t made much progress in the last, say ten years. You took over my position and that’s where you’ve stopped. I love to watch you progress. You’re so good at it.”

  “I don’t know what you mean. I’ve made Libertine Investments billions in that amount of time. What’s not progressive about that?” I ask as I watch his eyebrows dance as he thinks about what I’ve said.

  “I mean you, personally, son,” he says then places his hand on top of mine as he looks into my eyes. “You have been a person who has moved rapidly through life. You make goals and meet them and then you make new ones. You haven’t made a new goal since taking the CEO position at the company. That’s what I mean by progressing. I think a home of your own and building it up to be what you want it to be should be your next goal. You’re so much happier when you have a goal to work on.”

  Looking away from him, out the window that looks over the large swimming pool in the back of the mansion, I think about what he’s said. “Papa, I have only had one final goal this whole time. It was to take over your position, so you could take an early retirement. And I’ve met that goal. I’ve seen that you have more money than you could spend in a lifetime and watch you enjoy your free time. And that’s my prize at the end of all of my hard work.”

  “Cyprian, while that is very noble of you, it’s not a goal for you, son. That was a goal for me. Now, it’s time to make one for yourself. A home will fill your mind with new ideas. It’s a great experience. When I think about the day I bought this place, it always brings a smile to my face. It was the biggest purchase I’d ever made and it was the one thing which was entirely mine.”

  My eyes fall to the table and I look at my clean plate that had been filed with strawberry crepes. “Then I was thrust upon you, taking some of your home away. And what you really want is your home back and me to find my own. I understand now. I’ll call the real estate lady and tell her the deal is still on. I didn’t think about you wanting your old life back, the one you had before I came along.”

  The weight of his hand on my shoulder has me looking at him. “Son, that’s not it at all. I know your mother and I call you our happy mishap but you were a true gift from above for me. I assume to your mothe
r as well. I don’t know as we hardly converse at all. She and I never were conversationalists.”

  “So, that’s not it? Then why do you want me out so badly?” I ask as I don’t understand and I usually understand almost everything.

  “You need to make your own life. I’ve watched you following me and my life patterns and that’s not fair to you. You’re deeper than I ever was. Or your mother, for that matter. I feel as if you think there’s only one way to live life but there are many ways to live it,” he says, making me wonder if he’s on to something.

  “I think I do want to live the way you and Mother do, Papa. I see your faces are always happy. I want to be like you two. I want to live the life you two have,” I say and watch a frown cover my father’s face.

  His hair has gone completely gray. But he’s still what people call a handsome man.

  He stills gets all the ladies he cares for!

  “Son, I am getting older with each passing minute. And it’s beginning to settle in with my retirement, that I have set myself up to live alone forever.” He looks around at the empty room around us. “The servants move about like ghosts to make sure I’m never bothered, the way I used to ask them to do. But that was back when I was a busy man with the weight of the world on my shoulders.”

  “Are you saying, you’re unhappy now, Papa?” I ask as he hasn’t seemed unhappy to me in the least.

  He nods. “I don’t know how to talk to women. I flirt with women I know I can or talk business with women who are in my business world. But I have no idea how to talk to one like she’s my friend. I don’t want that for you. I want more for you.”

  “You’ve told me, on many occasions, when you have a relationship, it means arguments, unhappiness at times, and putting people before yourself and what you want. Are you changing your mind, now?”

  “Not for me, no. I’m old and set in my ways. I couldn’t put up with that now if I wanted to attempt to. But you’ve led a life that’s been led by me and I think it’s time for you to follow your own heart for a while. See what you really want in your life. That’s why a home of your very own is the best place to start,” he says then looks out the window to watch a sparrow fly past it to a nest in the tree next to it.

  “And if I decide to make my own party room and live life the way I’ve come to know it, will you be disappointed in me?” I ask as I’ve never seen my father like this before.

  With a shake of his head, he says, “I will never be disappointed in you. Not ever. Live however you want to. But do it because you want to. Not because you think anything is expected of you.”

  My mind is a mess. “You seemed proud of my male prowess.”

  “I am proud of you no matter what, Cyprian. I always have and always will be.” He gets up and pats me on the back. “I’m going to take a nap. Do whatever it is you want to, son. Stay here, buy the house and move, whatever it is you want. I will always be proud of you.”

  Watching my father leave the room, I get up to head to the office. I’ve always done what I thought was expected of me. I never once realized that nothing was expected of me.

  Making my way to the waiting Mercedes my father’s driver is driving me to work in today, a dreaded Monday, I let the driver open the door for me and watch as he closes it, without a word said between us.

  It’s odd, how lost I suddenly feel. It’s as if the rug has been pulled out from underneath my feet that I had been steadily treading upon for decades.

  I can do whatever I want to?

  I should feel great. Nothing is expected of me and anything I want to do, I can. Papa will still be proud of me and so will Mother. So, why do I feel so alone?

  The car pulls out of the large horseshoe drive and onto the road. I find myself pulling out my cell phone and tapping a message to the real estate lady. I’m going to take the estate. I’m going to live alone out there and see what it is I want to do with my personal life.

  Businesswise, that’s settled. I am to remain the CEO of Libertine Investments until I find another to groom to take over my place. Not a child of mine, obviously. Children are still off the table for me. I’d have no idea how to appropriately raise one of them.

  With my own home, I could decide to keep women there overnight and into the next day, week, month, or year if I wanted to. And all this time, I thought my father would lose respect for me if I ever tried to keep a woman or women for more than one night.

  I suppose I’m too literal of a person to understand everything. The little nuances that some people get, I just don’t. Maybe with this advanced thought process, I was born with, I lost the ability to read between the lines. Or even realize I didn’t have to follow my parents’ exact footsteps.

  I feel free but completely petrified for some reason. My first step at finding out who I really am and what I really want is upon me. I’m about to buy my own place to live and see how I want to live.

  Who really knows what will happen to me…

  Chapter 6

  CYPRIAN

  Six months into living in my own place and I’ve yet to find the ‘me’ that I want to be. I love the ‘me’ I have been and think that’s the real me.

  It’s Friday night and I have a young woman named, Cookie, sitting in my lap as my driver takes us back to my estate. I haven’t made a party room at my place yet as Papa’s is still fantastic so why give that one any competition?

  Pulling up to the last convenience store at the edge of town before we leave it to go out into the country where I live, my driver goes inside to pick up the essentials I’ll need for the night’s activities.

  “Oh, is he getting us some things for tonight?” she asks me as she plays with my hair.

  “Yep. You got anything you’d like?” I ask her as I push back her brown hair.

  “Whipped cream,” she says then runs her hand over the swell in the front of my pants. “I feel like a banana split if you get my drift.”

  “I do and I’ll make sure you get some of that. I think some cherries would go well with that too,” I say as I pick her up and take her off my lap. Rolling down the window, I lean out. “Ashton, can you add whipped cream and try to find some cherries too. And I want the ribbed condoms this time.”

  He nods and Cookie giggles as she climbs back onto my lap and plants a kiss on my lips. “Ribbed for her pleasure,” she says when she pulls her lips off mine and erupts into giggles again.

  I laugh and pull her face back to mine to enjoy a bit more of her twisting tongue. A knock on the window has us pulling our mouths away from each other and we look to find Ashton waiting at the window. I roll it back down. “Yes, Ashton?”

  “They’re out of ribbed. The cashier says there are none in the back and she said this Friday night you should try something new, like keeping it in your trousers, sir.” He chuckles. “She’s a spitfire, that girl. Anyway, do you have any other preferences or should I get what’s on the shelf?”

  I find myself a bit pissed. “Who is this girl, cashier, who thinks she knows me?”

  “Oh, just the same young lady who waits on me every Friday and Saturday night when I pick up your supplies. She’s a hoot. I always leave with a laugh and a smile when she waits on me. She means nothing by it. She’s a comical person. So, I’ll just pick up another kind. I’ll ask her if any of the ribbed will be in tomorrow,” he says then turns to walk back inside.

  “Oh, Ashton,” Cookie calls out. “I’d love a fountain drink. Surprise me, will you?”

  He nods and throws up a peace sign as he walks back through the glass doors. I find myself craning my neck to see if I can see this spitfire cashier he’s talking about. The glass along the side of the store where the checkout counter is located is too dark to see through.

  “Cyprian, I really need to use the ladies room. How far is it to your place?” Cookie asks me as I’m still trying to catch a glimpse of the girl Ashton is talking to then he breaks into laughter.

  I have every reason to believe it’s at my expense and a heat fi
lls me. I move Cookie off my lap. “Go inside and use the ladies room in there. I need to go now too.”

  As we get out of the car, I see Ashton cut his eyes at me and his smile vanishes. The man is around 50-years-old. When he calls someone young, it can mean they’re a couple of years younger than he is. But I am dying to know who this woman is.

  She’s making fun of me, that’s for certain!

  Ashton pushes the door open. “I’m done. She managed to find a package of ribbed in a return bin behind the counter. Come on, now.”

  He seems nervous as hell for some reason. “She has to pee,” I tell him as we keep going toward the doors.

  “Home is but a few minutes away. I wouldn’t recommend using these facilities, sir,” he says then he holds up the large fountain drink. “Look, miss, I have your drink here. It’s a Mr. Pibb.”

  “Oh, yes! I love that,” Cookie gushes and turns back to accept the drink from him. “I can wait until we get to your place, Cyprian.”

  “Great, get back in the car. I’ll only be a minute. I really have to go. I can’t wait,” I say then push the glass door open.

  A little chirping bell rings, announcing my arrival. “Hello, welcome to Ty’s Quick Stop,” I hear a woman say but see no one.

  “Hello,” I say and make my way to the back of the store to where I see the bathroom sign. Only, I’m looking down each aisle to see if I can get a look at the cashier Ashton was talking about.

  I find a short woman, putting bags of candy on the shelf. She has on a green smock and looks at me with a toothy grin. “Hi there. Can I help you find something?”

  I raise my eyebrows at her and chuckle. “No, I think I’m good.”

  Making my way to the men’s room, I find myself chuckling as I go. I don’t know what got into me. I was so mad a moment ago about what the woman said but now that I see it’s just a little, older woman, with most likely no real life outside of this little store, I’m anything but mad.

 

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