Sold on Valentine’s Day: A Virgin and a Billionaire Romance
Page 1
Sold on Valentine’s Day:
A Billionaire and a Virgin Older Man/ Younger Woman Romance
Copyright 2017 by Juliana Conners; All Rights Reserved.
Published by Swann Song Books.
Cover Design by ReddHott Covers.
Table of Contents
A Note to the Reader on This Edition
Dedication
Acknowledgements
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Sold on Valentine’s Day: A Virgin and a Billionaire Romance
Chapter 1 – Celeste
Chapter 2 – Celeste
Chapter 3 – Maxim
Chapter 4 – Celeste
Chapter 5 – Maxim
Chapter 6 – Celeste
Chapter 7 – Celeste
Chapter 8 – Maxim
Chapter 9 – Celeste
Chapter 10 – Celeste
Chapter 11 – Maxim
Chapter 12 – Celeste
Epilogue
Twice the Fun: An MFM Bad Boy Menage Romance
Chapter 1 – Dante
Chapter 2 – Marino
Chapter 3 – Marino
Chapter 4 – Jessica
Chapter 5 – Jessica
Chapter 6 – Dante
Chapter 7 – Marino
Chapter 8 – Jessica
Chapter 9 – Dante
Chapter 10 – Marino
Chapter 11 – Jessica
Chapter 12 – Dante
Chapter 13 – Marino
Chapter 14 – Jessica
Chapter 15 – Jessica
Chapter 16 – Dante
Chapter 17 – Marino
Chapter 18 – Jessica
Chapter 19 – Marino
Chapter 20 – Dante
Chapter 21 – Jessica
Chapter 22 – Jessica
Chapter 23 – Dante
Chapter 24 – Marino
Chapter 25 – Jessica
Chapter 26 – Dante
Chapter 27 – Marino
Chapter 28 – Jessica
Epilogue
RAMSEY: A Military Bad Boy Secret Baby Romance
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
EPILOGUE
Dear Reader
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This book is a work of fiction and any similarities to real places, people or events are entirely coincidental. This book may not be reproduced or distributed in any format except for short quotes for review purposes, without the express written consent of the author.
A Note to the Reader on This Edition
This Limited Release Bonus Edition of Sold on Valentine’s Day contains a free copy of Twice the Fun: An MFM Bad Boy Ménage Romance, and Ramsey: A Military Secret Baby Bad Boy Romance, both standalone novels. If you enjoy this book, please leave a review. If you would like to join my ARC team, please email me a screenshot or link to your review at jc@julianaconners.com with the subject “ARC Team Invitation.” In addition to joining my newsletters, I invite you to view my entire catalog at my Amazon Author Page or my website, JulianaConners.com. Or, like my Facebook Page or follow me on Twitter for updates and news.
Dedication
To my husband and our babies, as always.
Even though none of you ever read this and I hope the babies never do.
Thank you all for being you and for putting up with my crazy writing habits.
Happy Heart Day, Hubby. I love you with all of mine.
Acknowledgements
Thank you and Happy Valentine’s Day to my writing buddies Callie Quigg and Piper Phoenix for keeping me sane. Or as close to sane as I get. You two are great women and mothers, amazing writers and the most excellent friends a girl could hope to find in the whole Worldwide Writers’ Web. Now let’s meet up and make this a real life party instead of just a virtual one.
And a big thank you and Happy V-Day to Lauren V and to my Sizzling Angels and ARC Angels, for all that you do.
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Sold on Valentine’s Day: A Virgin and a Billionaire Romance
Chapter 1 – Celeste
Mirror, mirror on the wall, who looks the most elegant but is actually the sluttiest of them all?
I stare at myself a little too long in Rachel’s full length mirror, repeating this silly phrase I’ve just made up in my head and trying to remind myself that it’s really me in there.
Plain Jane Celeste Sheffield. Tomboy, nerd, misfit.
Except that right now I look like a knock out. Rachel’s been telling me that for the past hour, and it’s starting to sink in even though I don’t even recognize the girl staring back at me in the mirror.
From the looks of what I’m wearing you’d think I was going to a fancy party. All the details are in place.
I’ve donned a shiny black and silver evening gown accentuated with a tiny diamond necklace that had been a gift from my mom for my high school graduation.
My red fingernails feature dainty pink hearts that the nail stylist had painstakingly painted on earlier today.
The same stylist also did my hair: adding volume to my normally flat, thin blonde hair and piling it up on top of my head with tightly- rolled curls spiraling down in a style reminiscent of my high school Prom.
Where I almost lost my virginity, but didn’t.
That’s still intact, although my pride was wounded that night. And now that I’m going to a dinner club where I’ll be auctioned off like cattle, there’s not much of my pride left to speak of.
Rachel says that only my companionship is being auctioned off. Not my body, not my virginity. But it still feels wrong.
I can’t take my eyes
off the mirror. My look is one to wear to a luxurious ball. But I feel like I might as well be wearing a cheap dress that rides up my ass and shows too much cleavage.
“I still can’t believe you want to whore me out,” I tell Rachel, as I pick up my red satin clutch and rifle through it.
I’m making sure I have everything I might need. Even though I have no idea what I need for a gig like this. Except maybe a drink, which at nineteen I’m too young to even legally purchase.
“And I can’t believe I’m letting you do it,” I add.
Rachel shakes her head and laughs at me.
“Celeste, calm down,” she practically snorts. “I’m not whoring you out.”
She’s supposed to be my best friend— which is the whole reason I agreed to this gig— but right now I don’t appreciate her making light of a very serious situation.
“Well not really, anyway,” she says. “It’s not like you actually have to sleep with them. Some girls choose to, but many don’t. I don’t.”
She shrugs and says the last two words as if pronouncing herself Mother Teresa.
“So what exactly are they… bidding on… then?”
I can’t even believe I’m asking this question. The whole concept still seems so surreal.
Sure, I already knew that Rachel has a crazy job working as an escort to rich old men at an exclusive underground dinner club called The Exchange. I know everything about her. But I hadn’t exactly wanted to hear all about the details.
That kind of job suits her a lot better than it would me. We’ve been friends since we were young girls who met in church Sunday school class and she’s always been the adventurous, rebellious one. I’m usually the one observing from the corner, taking notes and writing about it all later.
“Oh come on, Celeste,” she says, looking annoyed now, which is rich, since I’m the one doing her a big favor tonight. “You know that there are a lot of guys in Phoenix looking for female ‘friends’ for different reasons.”
“That’s for sure,” I agree. “There are as many rich lonely men here in Phoenix as there are tumbleweeds.”
Celeste laughs genuinely now.
“You and your… what are they called? Similes?” she asks me.
“Metaphors,” I answer.
“Yeah, those. Well anyway,” she continues. “Sure, some of these guys want sex. But others might be completely impotent and need to keep that fact a secret in their social circle. Some might just want arm candy for whatever reason. Or companionship. Or to keep up with their boss or business partner by bringing someone even more attractive than whomever they’re dating to the company party or dinner event.”
“Okay,” I tell her, still feeling hesitant.
“I do need to warn you about something, but don’t worry,” she says, which immediately causes me to worry. “Some guys will bid up to the amount required to take you to dinner— which is all you have to do— but they like to view it as a challenge, try to get you to go out with them again or sleep with you when they’ve only paid for the dinner escort option.”
“How much is the… sleep with me option?” I ask, my stomach turning into knots.
“A lot more than the dinner option,” she says. “And it just depends on how high the bidding gets.”
“I see,” I tell her, although it’s clear as mud.
“It doesn’t matter,” she says. “Because you don’t have to sleep with them. There are different levels and the one that I do— the one you’re filling my spot for tonight— is just the dinner escort one.”
But what if it’s not?
The question runs through my mind and I don’t know whether to feel terrified or excited.
Chapter 2 – Celeste
I don’t ask the question out loud. I just stare at Rachel, letting it all sink in.
“I’m not whoring you out. It’s just dinner,” she insists. “All that happens is that you have a meal with the guy for Valentine’s Day. Some poor old sap who doesn’t have a date. That’s it.”
“Okay,” I say again.
Rachel’s pretty brown eyes turn wide and pleading, as if she’s worried that I’m going to back out.
I won’t. I’m loyal to my word and would do anything for my best friend in the world— and I guess this proves it. But that doesn’t mean I’m not apprehensive about it.
“You know I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t absolutely have to,” she says, grabbing my hand and squeezing it as if to apologize. “I really really appreciate it.”
“I know,” I tell her, half a smile finally creeping onto my face. “And I’m happy for you that Billy seems to want to take things to the next level.”
“What if he proposes?” she asks, a huge smile crossing her face and causing my own to grow bigger.
I can’t be worried about my own fate when Rachel is this happy. She’s been unlucky in love and now things are finally working out.
For months now she’s been dating Billy but living a secret life working at The Exchange. Once things were obviously getting serious pretty quickly between them, I urged her to tell him because I don’t think secrets are good for relationships.
Not that I’d really know, since the longest one I’ve had lasted all of two months last year before my ex dumped me for some co-eds at the college he moved away to attend. But in theory, I just think honesty is the best policy.
Rachel, however, is convinced that Billy would be upset, even though, as she keeps pointing out to me, only dinner— not sex— is involved at her level of participation at The Exchange. She didn’t want to quit the job because it’s good money and she really needs it.
She’s always reminding me that I “came from money” whereas she did not. And she tells me that it’s impossible for me to truly understand why she has to do some of the things she does.
She’s right about that. My family isn’t as rich as Rachel makes us sound but compared to hers we are. So maybe I really couldn’t understand, although I do try.
I come from a solidly middle class family and my dad worked in computer security for the Federal government while my mom was a well-paid paralegal at a large law firm. Rachel’s dad, on the other hand, was an alcoholic who couldn’t hold down a job— when he was even around— and her mom was a homemaker with little education or skills. Rachel’s mom was able to get a low-paying job as a store clerk when Rachel and I were in middle school and she realized that Rachel’s dad was only going to continue to spiral downhill instead of improve their situation.
She always tells me not to judge her because she needs the money to attend college whereas my parents help out with my education. And I don’t judge her. I just think that maybe for her own good she should let her boyfriend in on what she actually does five nights out of the week, before he finds out on his own. I think it’s only a matter of time before that’s bound to happen because Phoenix is still kind of a small town for a big city.
“If Billy does propose,” I ask her now, “Are you going to tell him how you work at The Exchange, and not just as a waitress?”
“No,” she huffs, shaking her head at me as if that’s ridiculous. “That’s the whole point. That’s why I asked you to go for me tonight. I still need the money and can’t give up the job if Billy’s not as serious about me as I think he is.”
“I know,” I remind her. And I get it. Or else I wouldn’t have agreed to help her out.
But she continues re-explaining it anyway.
“So I can’t ditch The Exchange on the busiest night of the year— their Valentine’s Day auction. But I also can’t skip out on Valentine’s Day dinner with Billy, and miss out on finding out whether or not he’s going to propose. So that’s where you come in, and I’m very grateful to you for helping me out.”
“But is it really that easy to just substitute you for me?” I ask her, skeptical. “Aren’t there, like, regular customers of yours—“
“Clients,” she interjects, as if I’d just called her a prostitute—
&nb
sp; “Fine, clients of yours that will be upset if they show up intending to bid on you and instead see me up there on the… stage?” I squish my nose up in disgust. “And is really a stage? Like a cattle auction? Seriously?”
“Celeste, you’re sounding judgmental again,” Rachel growls.
“Sorry. Just wondering. Since I’m going to be the one up there and all.”
“Look, you know you’re the only person I could ask to step in for me,” she begs. “You’re the only person in the world who even knows that I do this. I understand where your judgment is coming from and maybe I deserve it in return for the favor you’re doing me but it’s not like I’m cattle. They want me across the table from them at dinner. They want my conversation. Not just my looks but also my personality. My amazing wit.”
I laugh.
“Well, you do have all those things,” I tell her. And she does.
“But yes, initially it’s based on looks. Isn’t that how human biology works? Yes, we stand up there so they’ll see what they’re bidding on. And no, they won’t be disappointed when they see you instead of me. Trust me.”
“What do you mean?” I ask her, my interest piqued.
Now she’s appealing to my ego. Rachel’s good.
“Well, just look at you,” she says, waving her hand up and down to indicate my entire figure in the full length mirror hanging on her bedroom door. “You’re every guy’s wet dream.”
“I am not,” I insist. “I’ve gained my freshman fifteen and then some.”
“It’s only enhanced your curves, your boobs. It’s given you a healthy glow. You needed to gain some weight. You look healthy now. Vibrant.”
“Thanks, Dr. Rachel,” I tell her, but I’m pleased that she thinks the guys will like me. At this human auction I would never go to if it weren’t for her.
“And they like new girls,” she says. “Believe it or not, due to the stigma there aren’t a ton of girls willing to do this even though it pays very well and you get free filet mignon and unlimited drinks out of the deal as well.”