Dirty Little Virgin: A Submissives’ Secrets Novel

by Michelle Love

“Perhaps it will take some time to get her where I want her. I only want her once. That’s all I’ve ever done with any woman, one time and one time only. That way no one gets attached.”

  “I don’t think she’s that kind of person, sir. But you seem set on trying. This may be a goal you cannot reach,” he says as he pulls into the parking lot of the store she works at. Parking at the side, instead of the front, like he usually does, he stops and turns to look at me. “Are you sure? You’ve never been turned down before. I don’t know how you’ll handle rejection.”

  His negative vibe is rubbing off on me as my insides go gooey. I have to get away from him. “I’ll call you if she won’t give me a ride.”

  He nods as I get out of the car on my own and wave at him to drive away. Checking my watch, I see that it’s three minutes until they close and go around the side of the building to get to the entrance.

  Just as I put my hand on the door, the outside lights go off. I push the door open, anyway and see her and the same woman she was working with last night, standing behind the counter. Cami is quick to say, “We’re closed. Oh, it’s you.”

  “Hello to you too,” I say, feeling more than a bit put off.

  “I’ve already shut down the registers. Looks like you’re a minute too late to buy your Saturday night condom fix, sorry,” she says as she reaches for something from under the counter.

  “I have some leftover from yesterday, so we’re all good. I have ten of them, to be exact. Do you think that’ll be enough for tonight?” I ask as I lean on the counter.

  She looks at me as if I’m daft, as she says, “How the hell should I know? How many tramps do you have in the car tonight?”

  “None. And I have to ask you for a huge favor, Cami. My driver, Ashton’s, wife became ill, suddenly. He had to drop me off here, so he could go get her and possibly take her to the hospital. I told him to do it. Time was of the essence for his poor wife, after all. I assured him, you would take me home. That is what neighbors do for one another, isn’t it?” I have my fingers crossed behind my back, a thing I’ve never had to do before.

  “Ugh,” she groans and I find myself completely surprised. “I was going to go home and have some wine and watch some crappy television. I’m off tomorrow from school and work. It was going to be a chill night. But I suppose I can take an extra five or ten minutes to drop you off. It is on my home, anyway.” She comes around the counter, unzipping her green smock and taking it off, tossing it on top of the counter and revealing a very nice set of tits.

  Her tight white T-shirt is showing off a lacy blue bra and now that I can really see her ass in her tight black jeans, it’s perfectly round and absolutely edible.

  “You may not know this but I happen to have a whole cellar of fine wines from all over the world. I also have this dope home theater, I’ve yet to use. Want to come over for a while?” I ask her as she takes a set of keys out of her pocket.

  “No thanks,” she says like what I’ve just offered isn’t cool at all.

  Then I notice the flowers on the shelf behind the counter. “Aren’t you going to take those with you?” I ask as I point to the large and expensive crystal vase full of red roses.

  “Why would I take the manager’s flowers?” she asks as she looks at me with a blank expression.

  “Those are yours,” I say as I make my way behind the counter to get them.

  “And how do you know that?” she asks me as she crosses her arms in front of her.

  I pull them down and take the card I wrote on at the florist’s shop and hand it to her. “Because I sent them to you. Didn’t anyone tell you?”

  “Obviously not,” she says as she rolls her eyes and takes the little card I’m holding out for her. Then she smiles and laughs and it makes it all worthwhile. “You’re funny.”

  Step one, complete…

  Chapter 2

  CAMILLA

  Gina is giving me a thumb’s up as Cyprian gets into the passenger seat of my car. I give her a thumb’s down, making her shake her head. Then I get into the driver’s seat and look at the hot man in my car.

  He’s wearing a tuxedo and looks too good to be true. “What kind of grand ball did you attend tonight?”

  Running his hands over the lapels of the expensive garment, he smiles at me, revealing perfectly straight, white teeth. His lips are caramel colored with a hint of pink. They look delicious. “My father puts on formal parties on Saturday nights. All men are required to wear tux’s.”

  “Fancy,” I say and back out of the parking space. I put the car into first gear and see him looking at how close my hand is to his leg as I move the gear shift.

  “You know, I’ve never driven a stick,” he says. “Maybe you would be kind enough to teach me.” He looks into my eyes and I have to avert them, quickly, as my stomach just went very tight with just that look.

  “Maybe,” I say. “So, tell me how you managed to escape the party with no woman, Cyprian.”

  “It wasn’t easy, let me tell you. I had to make a daring escape to get away alone tonight,” he says, making me wonder why he’d even want that.

  “In all of my six months of working here, there hasn’t been a single Friday or Saturday night that you haven’t had your driver come in and buy condoms for you. What gives?” I ask as I pull out onto the main road out of town.

  His hand touches mine as it rests on the gear shift. “Can I move my hand with yours as you shift the gears, Cami?”

  Heat is coursing through me and I have to shake my head to clear it. He frowns as I make the motion, not meant to answer his question. “Yeah, you can. That way you can get an idea of where the gears are.”

  His frown moves easily into a smile and his hand rests on top of mine. “Good. I’d really like to know how to drive a stick. This is a cool classic car. Most don’t drive something like this around. Was it a gift or did you buy this, yourself?”

  “Papa gave it to me when I graduated from high school, seven years ago,” I tell him and try hard to ignore the pulsing that’s going on in my nether regions.

  If I’m getting this horny over his hand merely touching mine, not even holding it, I have a serious problem!

  “Papa, is that what you call your father?” he asks as he smiles like crazy for some reason.

  “Yes, that’s what I call him. My mother is called Mama. Papa is originally from France. His parents moved to New Orleans when he was seven-years-old. My grand-mere and grand-pere still live there, only a few houses down from where my parents live.” I stop talking as I feel as if I’m rambling on, nervously.

  “I call my father, papa too. My mother, I call, mother. She and I are not very close. She lives in Los Angeles. She sent me here to live with my father when I was five.”

  “Wow,” I say, without thinking. “Sorry, my bad.”

  “Sorry? Why?” he asks, looking confused.

  Even confusion on his face doesn’t make him any less attractive at all!

  “I was being judgmental about your mother. Sorry,” I say as I see the huge black, wrought iron gated entry nearing. “This is it, right?”

  “It is,” he says. “And now you will know the code to the gate.” A smile moves over his entire face and I see a little spark of evil in it.

  “You can get out and push in the code. I don’t need to know that,” I tell him as I pull to a stop just far enough away from the control panel to allow him to get to it.

  “Pull up, Cami. I’m not afraid for you to know the code to my gate,” he says with a laugh.

  With a shrug, I pull up and roll my window down. “Okay then.” I position my finger over the keyboard, waiting for him to tell me the numbers.

  “696969,” he says as I look back at him, catching him smiling.

  “Seriously? Damn!” I punch it in and the gates open. “I was right. I called it right from the get-go.”

  “About?” he asks as his hand moves back over mine to help me shift gears.

  “About you being a pervert,” I
say with a laugh.

  “I’m not happy with you thinking that way about me,” he says and taps the top of my hand. “I’m not perverted. I am a sexual creature who enjoys having sex with many different women. But I am not perverted.”

  “Okay, think that if you want to,” I say as I make my way up the long drive to his monster-sized home. “This place is huge.”

  The entire front of the house is lit up. The landscaping is magnificent. You can’t see it from the road. “You like?” he asks as I pull to a stop in front of the front door.

  “It’s gorgeous. You’ve had a lot of work done on it. It looks great. Well, see you around, Cyprian,” I say as he opens his door.

  He stops and looks back at me. “Come inside. I’ll give you the grand tour.”

  “I really should get home,” I say, as I don’t trust myself to be alone with the man. Especially in his home!

  “Who do you have waiting for you, Cami?” he asks as he looks at me with no emotion on his handsome face.

  “No one,” I say as I look into his dark brown eyes.

  “Then come inside. I’ll pour you some wine. Take you on a tour of this gorgeous home and maybe then you will decide to watch a movie with me in the theater. Please,” he ends his request.

  “K,” comes out of my mouth without me knowing it would.

  What have I done…?

  Chapter 3

  CYPRIAN

  With a couple of glasses of red wine poured, I take them over to where Cami is standing, looking at one of my paintings that’s hanging on the wall of the bar room. Her eyes are moving over every last inch of the painting I made of a stallion, prancing around in front of a stable of mares.

  Placing her glass on the bar next to her, I lean over her shoulder a bit. “Do you like it?”

  “I do, it’s so lifelike.” Her finger moves just over the canvas where I signed my name. “I can’t read the writing. Who is the artist?”

  “I am,” I say then take a sip of the wine.

  “No way!” She turns to look at me and takes a step back. “For real?”

  “For real,” I tell her then pick her glass up and hold it out for her, she takes it then I extend my arm for her to take. “Come with me and I’ll show you the house.”

  She places her hand in the crook of my arm and I lead her to the next room. “This is what I call my study.”

  “Strategically placed right next to the bar,” she says with a smile. “Smart man.”

  “That I am. I was a child prodigy. Did you know that?” I ask her.

  “Cyprian, I am not in the world of the wealthy. I don’t know a single thing about you. Except you make large purchases of condoms on Friday and Saturday nights.” She sips her wine as she looks around the room full of floor to ceiling bookshelves, filled with all types of books.

  “I made my way through school very quickly. I was CEO of Libertine Investments at the age of twenty-five.”

  “Impressive,” she says. “So, what other secret talents do you have, Cyprian?”

  With a growl, I lean in close and whisper, “If you’ll come to my bedroom, I can show you some more of my talents.”

  Her laughter peels through the air. “You are funny!”

  I’m thrown off be her and straighten up, moving on to the next room. “I wasn’t trying to be funny. But on we go.” Pulling the door open, I take her into my meeting room. “I’ve yet to have a meeting in this room but if I ever need to have one at home, this is where it will take place.”

  “Like a board room, huh?” she asks as we walk through the large room with redwood siding covering the walls.

  “Just like a board room, yes.” I push the next door open and we’re in the small kitchen. “If I ever do have a meeting, this is where my staff will make the food to serve at it.”

  “This kitchen is three times as big as the one in my duplex apartment. Pretty cool, I must say. State of the art appliances and everything.” She stops and looks at the granite countertops. “You’ve spared no expense, haven’t you?”

  “Of course,” I say. “You see, everything I did to upgrade and renovate this place is a tax write-off. Why spare expenses when it helps to offset the taxes I have to pay each year?”

  “Pretty clever, Cyprian. Your mind works like a machine,” she says, giving me another opportunity to throw in a sexy remark.

  Leaning in close, I whisper, “That’s not the only thing that works like a machine, Cami.”

  Laughter again sends me into a state of confusion. “Oh, Cyprian! You are a card!”

  A card?

  A door leads off this small kitchen to an outside patio and I decide to take her out there for a while. Maybe the cool night breeze and the sounds of the night will have her going to another place in her mind. A sexual place. Because she’s sure not in one right now!

  “Perhaps a brief pause on our tour to take in some of the night air,” I say as I take her to the door and open it. I leave the light off on purpose, so she can mellow a bit with only the stars and moon to light the night.

  “This is beautiful. Even in the dark,” she says as I help her to sit on one of the small sofas on the deck.

  I take the seat next to her. The sofa is so small our legs touch and I rest my hand on her thigh. “It’s peaceful out here. I spend at least fifteen minutes each night when I come home, outside on one patio or another. This place has six patios, three decks, this being one of them and five balconies. The master suite has a massive one. You’ll love that one. I have a bed out there, covered with mosquito netting.”

  I can feel her pulse race and she turns her head to look at me. “Cyprian, can I ask you hold old you are?”

  “Thirty-five. And you are?”

  “Twenty-five. I’m ten years younger than you and I’m having a hard time figuring you out. Most men your age are married. They have families already and everything. Why don’t you?” she asks me the way an innocent child would.

  I run my fingers along her jawline as I answer her, “Camilla, I am not a man who wants those things. My life is full enough as it is.”

  “Do you think you will always be this strong and viral, Cyprian?” she asks me as her eyes search mine.

  “Why do you ask that?” I trace her lips one time then rest my hand on her collar bone, stroking it with my thumb.

  “I ask that because one day when you’re old, you will want to have someone around. My parents and grandparents have been married for years and years. They tell me all the time how life wouldn’t be worth living without the other. I know it’s important to make a life with someone. Only one person, who you can grow old with.”

  “I don’t think that way,” I say as I move my hand to run over her shoulder.

  “Perhaps you should think about the way you’ve been leading your life and how it will affect the end of it. Can you imagine, lying alone in your bed, unable to get up from the aches and pains that come along with old age. And have no one to help you up or go get something for you. That sounds terrible to me,” she says.

  “To be honest, I don’t think about the future in that way. I think about business in the future but not me in the future. I suppose things will work out for me as they have for my parents. They’re both still single and living their lives the same way they were when they were young.”

  “How boring,” she says then takes a sip of her wine. “How very boring to do the same things over and over again. No growth. The same people at the same parties every weekend. The same thing, week in and week out.”

  “Fuck! You make it sound bad,” I say without laughing.

  “Isn’t it?” she asks as she looks at me again.

  “And what is it that you do, Camilla? What is so fascinating about your life? Please, educate me,” I ask her as I sit back, taking my hands off her.

  “Well, I am a scientist which might not sound exciting but it really is. I put things together to create new things. I pull things apart to see how they work and then put them back together again. My
job is vast. I never do the same exact thing twice. The only boring part of my life is working at that store.” She finishes the glass of wine and places the empty glass on the table. “Now you tell me about what it is you do.”

  “I read the New York Times every weekday morning as I eat my breakfast,” I tell her.

  “Is it always the same thing?” she asks with a cocked eyebrow.

  “No, well, yes and no,” I say. “Mondays are pancakes, Tuesdays are scrambled eggs. But not the same thing every day.”

  “Hmm.” She taps her finger to her chin. “Now I think I see why the never-ending, turn-style of women. You do the same thing, day in and day out, the only variable is them. I bet you’ve slept with only a handful of them more than once.”

  “Wrong!” I tell her and get up, holding my hand out for her. I’ve never slept with any of them for more than the one night. But I’m not about to tell her that.

  “Is my visit over?” she asks as she takes my hand.

  “No,” I say then drain my glass of wine too. “Your drink is finished and we’re in need of refills. The kitchen we just left has more wine in it. Come on. There’s more house to see and I think you’ll love the theater room.”

  I pull her along with me and kind of hate how she has the gears moving in my head. I’ve never thought of my life as boring. Nor that of my parents either. Who does she think she is?

  “Cyprian, what are your plans for tomorrow?” she asks as we walk inside.

  “We go to the horse races on Sundays,” I tell her, making her laugh.

  “So, Friday and Saturday are party nights. I never see you on the weeknights. You must work you ass off and get home late on those nights. And Sundays are spent at the track. Would you like to change it up some tomorrow?”

  “What do you have in mind?” I ask her as I pour us more wine.

  “How about you and I spend the day together, watching movies while we bar-b-que and just hang out. I saw a swimming pool. We could chill out together. A nice, peaceful day. What do you say?”