Virgin Sale: Aubrey: Bought by the Billionaire, An Older Man Younger Woman Romance

by Harley Jane Meadows

  I unhook the last connection, and take the corset in my hand. My back to the audience, I let it drop to the floor. I fumble. I feel so goddamned awkward. I try folding my arms across my chest, but it doesn’t feel as effective. So I put my hands together and press them to my breastbone. I turn back around, covering myself as best I can, reduced to panties and my stockings. I’m not taking those off for these people. No chance.

  My heart is pounding. My skin is trembling with each breath, and I can barely open my eyes to look out into the house. The tapping intensifies.

  I know what they want. I’m not going to do it. I get that they came here to eat me up with their eyes. They all want to see me… and I refuse. I keep my arms, pressed to my chest. If they want me… well. They’re gonna have to bid on me. Aren’t they.

  The tapping intensifies. It sounds like a geiger counter in my ear. Then there’s a single *tap*. It punctuates the sound in my ear. Nothing follows it… then another, louder *tap*. And another.

  I hear one last *tap* in my ear, before the tone rings, and I’m done. I turn my back to the audience, put my arm across my chest, and scoop up my things as best I can.

  I leave the stage, covered in cold sweat. I feel like I’m going to break down in tears. I’m not sad, I’m just overwhelmed. I’ve never done anything so terrifying in my life. But I did it. I pushed through and I did it. I just hope it was worth it…

  I get to the anteroom, where a woman is waiting with a soft white robe and a glass of water. I take both. She has this unreadable look on her face. “How did I do?” I ask. “Did it… go well?”

  She says nothing. Her mouth is just hanging open. I shake my head. “It didn’t. Oh god. Tell me. How bad is it?”

  She picks up a touchscreen, and flips it over for me to see:

  FINAL BID: $12,000,000.

  CHAPTER NINE

  Aubrey

  Oh my god. Oh my god. Twelve million? Twelve MILLION? Who the hell has twelve million dollars to throw away on a single night? Or a weekend? Or… oh my god.

  I feel dizzy. Oh, jeez. The woman takes my hand and walks me over to a chair. I sit. Oh my god.

  “Breathe,” she says, as she refills my water. “You did great out there.”

  Oh my god. No matter what else happens, I’m going home with six million dollars. I can’t wrap my head around it. It’s too big.

  “Is this really happening?” I ask. She nods, and starts fanning me. I feel faint. Oh god. “Twelve million dollars… who won the bid??”

  She shrugs, and holds up the touchscreen again. “I don’t have that information. You have some time, if you want to relax, catch your breath.”

  I nod, and take down the whole glass of water again in one long pull.

  I have time to sit. To think. I’ve just signed my virginity away for twelve million dollars— six of which I get to keep. My heart is still pounding. If possible, it’s even louder than before.

  What do I say when I meet the guy??

  CHAPTER TEN

  Oliver

  Mitch’s face is a mask of shock. “Have you lost your god damned mind?? Twelve MILLION on a girl you’ve never seen before? Jeez. That has to be some kind of record.”

  I shake my head. “It’s not your money, it’s not your call. I saw her and I had to have her.”

  “Oh you’re gonna have her, all right.” Mitch finished off his drink. “Jesus, Olly. I hope you like virgin pussy, cause that’s what you just bought.”

  I nod, but don’t bother to answer him. This is… different. I feel different. Holy fuck. I just bought that girl’s virginity. She’s gonna give it up to me, tonight.

  I’m sitting here, surrounded by all these horny rich guys— and I’m no better than them. When that girl hit the stage— I don’t even know her name! When that girl hit the stage, I felt… anchored to my seat. I couldn’t take my eyes off her. Watching her up there, looking so vulnerable. So raw, so exposed. I had to have her. Put my arms around her. Fuck.

  I get up from my seat. I’ve already spent way more than I planned to, and I have no interest in getting a second girl. Mitch is watching the stage. Good riddance.

  I leave the theater. I need air. I need to stretch my legs. I could use a drink. I’ve never experienced anything like this. Neither has she, says the voice in my head.

  A man in bellman’s uniform opens the door for me. I walk out. Even after the sun has set, the air is still warm. A breeze hits my face, and I close my eyes to it.

  What is so special about this girl? I don’t know a goddamn thing about her… all I have to go on is how I feel when I look at her. I feel… greedy. I want to see more. I want to hold her. Touch her. Squeeze her in my hands. Taste her.

  Then the bidding went higher. Other men bid on her, back and forth. It pushed a button in me. I had to have her. I had to come out on top. I had to win.

  And I did win. I won her, fair and square. I won a person. A girl… How old can she be? Eighteen? Nineteen? I’m a decade older than her.

  I shake my head, take a long breath, and let it out.

  I reenter the hotel, and a woman is there, waiting for me. “Mister Sable?”

  I straighten up a little. “Yes?”

  “We’re preparing your companion to meet you. Do you have any special preferences?”

  “Preferences? Like what?”

  The woman hands me a tablet. There are dining room options, a variety of suites, even wardrobe selections. I’m shocked by the amount of detail that went into this. They really do cater to every sort of appetite, here.

  I’m getting hungry. Let’s eat first. “The Prescott Room, for supper. My own suite is fine, for later. Aaaaaand…” I tap on a picture. “I’d like her to wear that, if you please.”

  The woman takes a look at my selection. “Very good, sir. She’ll be ready for you in ten minutes. She will meet you at the Prescott Room.” She gives me an impressed look, smiles, and turns to go. I let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in.

  Twelve million dollars.

  She better be worth it.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Aubrey

  I’ve finished off my third glass of water when a woman walks up, carrying a touchscreen. “Miss Caselotti?”

  I stand up, and nod. I’m finally feeling a bit balanced again. “That’s me.”

  “I’m Alia. If you’d come with me, we’d like to get you ready to meet with Mister Sable.”

  She walks me down a long hallway— away from the girls waiting their turn to go onstage. We head for a small dressing room. Alia pulls open a wardrobe, and comes out with a gorgeous white silk gown.

  Oh my god. It’s simple, elegant. The front dips in a ‘V’ cut that’s not too deep, and the thing has almost no back, whatsoever. I feel like a movie star, just looking at it. “Mister Sable has requested you wear this for supper.”

  I keep wondering when the chain of ‘oh god this is really happening’ moments will stop, but not yet, apparently. I run my hand under the fabric of the gown. It’s heaven. “Well!” I say, still feeling nervous, “Looks like Mr. Sable has taste, huh?”

  Alia smirks. “I’d say so. He did choose you, after all.” Sneaky little flatterer. It helps. I shake my head, and Alia helps me into the gown.

  My hair is still in the same french curl as before, high and tight. I look in the mirror, once we’re finished. Gosh.

  Usually, I’m not too caught up on how I look. I don’t love my body, and I’m not crazy about the way I look on my best days. This officially qualifies as my best day. Sitting on the other side of the mirror… is the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.

  My jaw hangs open. Alia gives me a knowing smile. “That’s really you in there. I promise.” She taps me on the shoulder. “Come on now. We don’t want to keep him waiting.”

  ~~~

  Alia takes me to just outside the Prescott room. I see couples, strolling the hallway. Men in white tie, women in similar ballgowns, or lingerie. One woman wears a black leather collar and an op
en bathrobe, and that’s it. She’s being led on a leash; a man in a domino mask holds the other end.

  I’m so wrapped up in taking it all in, that I’m stunned when Alia introduces my mysterious benefactor. “Allow me to introduce Oliver Sable.”

  I turn back, and gasp. Oh wow. He’s handsome. Strong jaw, cool blue eyes, thick and dark brown hair. He smiles when he sees me, but he doesn’t show his teeth. He holds out his hand. I take it.

  “It’s a privilege to meet you,” he says, bending to kiss the back of my hand. His lips are warm on my hand. I feel I’m about to break out in goosebumps all over again.

  I wonder for a moment why Alia didn’t introduce me. Then I realize it’s to give me some semblance of anonymity. I guess it makes sense.

  Oliver stands up straight again, and looks me over. “And you are…?”

  I suck on my lip before I chuckle, nervous. “I’m… whoever you’d like me to be.”

  He gives me a curious look. Too much of a cliché? Whatever he’s thinking, it’s clear he’s not amused. I clear my throat and try again. “Why don’t we keep things simple, and you call me Aubrey?”

  Alia smiles at us both, and pulls away.

  The billionaire offers me the crook of his elbow. “Shall we?”

  I slip my hand through, and nod. “Lets.”

  We’re led through the dining room to a quiet table, off to the side. I relax a little. It would feel a bit weird if we were the center of attention. I can’t help but notice that we are being watched, though.

  Mr. Sable pulls out my seat for me, before taking his own. I order champagne, he requests a scotch. We get a chance to look at the menu: Everything looks incredible, half of it is in French. The drinks arrive.

  I wind up ordering chicken in a white wine sauce. Mr. Sable orders steak au poivre. While we wait on our meals, he swishes his scotch around in his glass, peering at me. “So, Aubrey. Where are you from?”

  “Indiana. Going to college there, too.”

  He nods. “You have a big family?”

  “No. I moved around a lot, from foster family to foster family.”

  He nods again. “That sounds rough.”

  I smile for him. “Thanks.” I sip my champagne, and lean in a little. “So, um. Can I ask you something?”

  “Sure.” He sips his scotch, and sets it down. He looks me up and down again, and smiles.

  “Why did you go so high, bidding on me?”

  He shows me his teeth when he grins. He leans in, too. “I’m honestly not a hundred percent sure. I just knew when I saw you… I had to have you.”

  Um. Weird. He may have been shooting for ‘charming’ on that one, but it sure didn’t land that way. “Um. Thank you?”

  He chuckles, and tilts his head to one side. “Something wrong?”

  I open and close my mouth before I speak. “It’s— I’m having a serious disconnect, here. Like, if you pinched me and I woke up back in my dorm room, on my tiny mattress? That would make more sense than me sitting here with you, in this dress.”

  He nods. “I know. I’ve never done anything like this before, either.”

  I scrunch up my face. I’m skeptical. “Really?”

  “Oh absolutely. My friend Mitch— he’s been here a few times now.”

  “And, what. He gets off on plying young virgins with piles of money?”

  Mr. Sable shakes his head. “Good god no. His… descriptive of choice doesn’t bear repeating in polite company.”

  I snort. “Oh come on. It can’t be that bad.”

  He chuckles. “He prefers— and this is a direct quote— ‘bitches that know what they’re doing’.”

  My jaw drops open. The waiter arrives with our plates, just in time to hear Mr. Sable. Oh my god. I break out in giggles. The waiter doesn’t bat an eye. He just sets down the plates. “Will there be anything else?”

  Mr. Sable points at both our drinks. “Keep ‘em coming, please.”

  The waiter nods and disappears. I trace my finger around the mouth of my glass. “So… you’ve obviously been with some girls before.”

  He nods, and clears his throat. “Some.”

  I bite my lip. “What kind of… stuff… do you like? In the bedroom, I mean?”

  He winces, and finishes his drink. “That can wait, I think. Right? Let’s just… have dinner, get to know each other a little. Yeah?”

  I nod. “Okay.”

  He rubs the underside of his nose, and sits back in his chair. “Would you mind calling me Oliver?”

  “Sure thing, Oliver.”

  “Thank you, Aubrey.”

  He smiles. I think it’s the first genuine smile of his that I’ve seen.

  “So what are you studying?”

  My voice creaks as it comes out. “You know what? Let’s… not? I don’t wanna talk about real life, right now. This all feels like a dream, or something. I kinda want to stay in it, for a while.”

  I run my fingers down the strap of my gown. “This dress, for instance. I… used to watch the Oscars every year. And I’d see movie stars wearing things like this. Or in those super-expensive perfume commercials, all done in gold. You know? It felt like they were a better class of person, somehow.”

  The waiter silently brings us fresh drinks, and disappears just as quietly. Oliver sips his. “And now?”

  “Iiiiii… don’t know. I’m still me, I’m just wearing silk. Staring at my very own Prince Charming.”

  He smirked. “I’m pretty sure Prince Charming didn’t buy Cinderella.”

  I tilt my head. “Fair. But he did throw those expensive balls for her. That had to set the kingdom back. And you didn’t buy me, thank you very much. This is just a rental.” I stick out my tongue.

  He shakes his head. “Oh, I’m paying for it all right.”

  I feel warmth in my cheeks again. Maybe it’s the champagne. Maybe not. He leans forward again. “Tell me, Aubrey. When you were on stage, looking out at all those lights. You couldn’t see us, right?”

  I nod. “Right.”

  “What in god’s name were you thinking about?”

  I finish off my champagne. “I… wanted it to be worth it.”

  “Wanted what to be worth it?”

  I lick my lips. “Putting myself through the most embarrassing, humiliating thing I’ve ever done. I had someone backstage with me, while I was waiting? She said that the bidders— that you— wanted my virginity, so I’d better act like a virgin when I got out there. All naked, and exposed… even afraid.”

  He reaches out and takes my hand, and squeezes it. His touch is very warm. “Well, you got my attention.”

  I feel hot, inside. Hell. I don’t want him to let go of my hand. I squeeze his hand—

  “There he is!” We both look up. A guy in a suit and no tie staggers over to the table. He has a brunette in a red dress following him, a few steps behind.

  Oliver recognizes him, and sits up. “Hello, Mitch.”

  Mitch reaches onto the table, and scoops up Oliver’s drink. He downs it in one go. “Mm. So! I can’t believe you fuckin’ left me there, man! You missed out on some gorgeous fuckin’ pussy, believe me.”

  The woman in red says nothing. She purses her lips together. She looks at me, shakes her head and shrugs.

  Mitch looks at me, and almost tips over onto me. “There she is! This is the one I was telling you about!” He turns, and waves the brunette closer. “I couldn’t believe it. Moneybags here was going out of his mind to get his hands on her.” He breaks out in a laugh that fills the room. Every head turns and stares at him.

  The maitre d’ walks over, doing his best to contain the situation. “Is everything all right here, gentlemen?”

  Mitch turns on the maitre d’ and claps his hand on the guy’s shoulder. “Everything’s fuckin’ great! I just wanted to congratulate my buddy here on locking down his little princess! MAN she’s got some nice tits.”

  I sit back in my chair. By reflex, my hand goes to cover my chest. Mitch just points and lau
ghs. “That’s it! That’s her act and everything! Ohh, don’t look at me! I’m soooo innocent!” He leans over to Oliver and whispers, “But no, seriously. Look at me.”

  He loses his balance, and crashes into the table. My dinner flies off the plate, and splatters all over me. Rice, wine sauce, and roast chicken splatter across my legs, my chest, some even lands in my hair. Mitch lands in my lap, laughing.

  I shout as I stand up and back away, “Get off of me!”

  Mitch sits on the floor, laughing. I’m close to tears. Oliver drags his friend to his feet. The maitre d’ helps hold him up. “I am terribly sorry about this,” he says, but Oliver isn’t having it.

  My dress is ruined. Dinner is ruined. Everything is ruined. I can’t. I can’t deal with this. I should have known. I should have known something was going to ruin it. God damn it. I run out of the restaurant, fast as I can.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Oliver

  I pick up Oliver by the lapels, and park him in Aubrey’s empty chair. “God damn it, Mitch.” I stand up straight, and look for the girl. The maitre d’ is standing in the way, trying to apologize like it’s his fucking fault.

  I wipe my hands off on a napkin and drop it in Oliver’s lap. “You can bill him.” I race after Aubrey. I make it to the doorway. This place is huge. I have no idea which way she went. There are elevators everywhere. It looked like she was crying, but I can’t hear anything over the chatter of other billionaires and their ‘companions’.

  A woman materializes in seconds. She looks familiar. Maybe she introduced me to Aubrey? “Mister Sable?”

  “Yeah. Where’s the girl?” I keep looking around; there’s no goddamn sign of her.

  “Rest assured, sir, the girl is just taking a moment to freshen up. If you’d like to wait at the bar, they’ll be happy to serve you whatever you like, on the house.”