by Abby Angel
“But why not? It’s just one time. And we’ll get so much money from it. A billionaire’s auction? Do you really think they’d be cheap about it? No,” he explains, trying to convince me.
“Yeah, but like...what’s the point of me waiting all this time just to throw it away there?” I question.
“Billionaire,” he replies.
Goddamn him.
I don’t like it, but he has a point. We could actually save the business and have money to cushion us the rest of our lives depending on how much I sell for.
“Okay.”
“Really?!” he blurts. “You’ll really do it?”
“I don’t know. I’m thinking about it,” I say with a sigh. “It’s for the family. For Mom and Dad’s legacy. But I’ll be damned if a dime of it goes to your fucking problem.”
He rolls his eyes at me. I still don’t like this idea, but even with everything he’s done, I still know Anders means well.
And on some level, despite his downfall, I still look up to him. He’s my big brother. I can’t just forget all of the times he’s helped me, even if he hasn’t in a while.
I pull out some pizza I ordered last night and reheat it in the microwave. I throw some on two plates and slide one over to Anders across my dining room table.
As we eat, I chew on the thought of actually selling my virginity. I mean, people literally just give theirs away. Then it’s gone.
It’s not special anymore. It’s just sex. Anders watches me as I take another bite.
“It really will save us, you know. This is a good plan. You have to admit it. Just do it,” he says.
As I finish my last bite, I let out a deep sigh. I don’t think I’ll ever be sure even if, somehow, I find ‘the right one’.
“I’ll do it,” I announce.
“Hell yeah! That’s what I’m talking about!” he shouts.
“Do you know where I sign up?”
He gives me a strange grin. “You already are.”
My heart skips a beat. My face flushes, and I shoot him a death glare.
“What?” he began. “The cutoff was today, and I figured if I couldn’t get you to do it, they’d just skip you on the roster or whatever.”
I’m a little pissed, but I know there’s really nothing for me to do about it now. I let it go.
“Yeah, whatever,” I say, watching Anders scarf down his last bite of pizza.
What a shit he is. He comes in after having gone missing for days, unloads this crazy news on me, and manages to finish the rest of my pizza without a thank you.
I’m really ready for the day to be over. I don’t want to think about it anymore.
I just want it all to be done for now. My eyelids are even heavy. I’m emotionally worn out, and it’s physically affecting me.
“Well, I need some sleep,” I admit. “I’ll see you tomorrow. I better.”
“Alright, sis. You really won’t regret this. I know it,” he says as he walks out the door.
I wait for the door to close completely, and I walk over and latch the deadbolt. I walk through the hallway into my room and crawl into bed, still fully dressed from the day.
I don’t give a fuck. I’m just exhausted. I get tucked in and nestle into my pillow.
And then it hits me.
Every emotion. Every reaction. Every unsaid word.
They all catch up to me, and I just let it all out, soaking my cheek and pillow as I cry myself to sleep.
Chapter 5
Aurora
My throat is tight with nerves.
This thing I’ve been saving my entire life—my virginity—is up for grabs.
I feel sick, nauseated, and queasy.
This is not me, not who I am.
What the fuck am I doing here? I look over at my brother, who is in his usual drugged-out state.
“What is it this time, Anders? Are you high on weed, cocaine, alcohol? Or is it a mix of all of them?”
He glares at me through blood-shot eyes.
I can’t even believe he’s making me do this. In truth, I’m here by choice, but it’s his fault for blowing through all of mom and dad’s money on drugs. They’d be devastated to see him like this, just as I am.
That doesn’t change the fact that we’re on our way to the Billionaire’s Virgin Auction.
I rap my fingers nervously on my legs and count down the moments until we arrive.
“Aurora, you really need to relax,” Anders says for about the thirtieth time in the same car ride.
I know he’s trying to help. I do. But telling a nervous person to just relax is about the worst way to actually get them to ease up.
“Do you want to get up on a stage to bid off your virginity?” I snap at him.
“Ha! My virginity is long gone. And besides, none of those men would want to see a dude up there. I don’t know what you’re so concerned about. It’s not that big a deal,” he answers.
“Don’t make it seem like it’s not okay to be nervous. This is me; it’s my body and my life. This is something entirely new to me, and I could use some actual support or guidance instead of your bullshit,” I reply.
Anders is silent, and I peer at him out of the corner of my eye, trying to gauge his face. Then I look out of the window solemnly as the town car brings us to the event.
“I’m sorry, Aurora. I’m sorry for getting you into this mess and for pushing you so hard. I know it’s a big deal,” he admits.
“I know, Anders. Thank you,” I respond, and then I sigh. “We’re in this far already, and I’ve made up my mind. I’m going through with it.”
Our driver pulls up in the back alleyway of the venue.
“Here goes nothing,” I say.
I gather my Louis Vuitton bags full of makeup, clothes, hair products, shoes, and accessories.
I really didn’t know what to expect, so I basically threw a good portion of my closet into bags so I’d have options. Anders opens the door for me, and the person in charge shows us in at the back entrance.
Anders slides off to the auction room to find himself a seat while I inform the staff that I’m a participant in the auction. I’m guided to the dressing room.
As soon as I walk through the door, I’m greeted with a cloud of hairspray and the smell of burned hair and perfume. A couple of attendants grab my arms and pull me to an unoccupied chair.
I drop my bags to my sides once I’m seated and stare in the mirror as they immediately go in with a comb and start teasing my hair.
My nerves are starting to get the best of me again. My stomach is in knots, and my heart is just pounding in my chest.
I figure some other person in this room is nervous. They must be. They’re all virgins, too.
I peek around.
Everyone is talking to one another or talking with the stylists, and they’re all smiling and excited to get started with the auction.
The girl next to me is picking out her outfit. She holds it up to herself in front of the mirror.
“That would look amazing on you,” I say, in an attempt to be friendly.
She looks over at me and rolls her eyes, turning to her stylist and asking him to pick something else.
Ooookay. She’s not the one to chat with.
I look over to my other side. The woman in the seat is picking at her hair, moving individual strands around trying to make it perfect.
“Your hair looks great! It really frames your face,” I compliment her.
She gives me a look that makes me feel like I’m an idiot for even speaking to her.
As I continue to look around the room, I have a subtle realization: no one in here is going to talk to me.
I am, without a doubt, the prettiest girl in the room. And these women all hate me for it.
I stare straight ahead for the next few minutes in silence, tears pooling in my eyes. I’m so fucking nervous.
“Are you okay, hun?” my hair and makeup stylist asks.
I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye.<
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“Honestly, I’m just so nervous. I don’t know what to do,” I admit.
“Well don’t be, sugar. You’re a gorgeous lady, and you’re gonna knock this out of the park!” she says, trying to reassure me.
“I appreciate it,” I lie.
As conceited as it sounds, I know I’m going to do well after seeing the other girls lined up. But it doesn’t take the pressure off at all.
The wardrobe attendant rushes over a skimpy little bodysuit by Agent Provocateur. It’s sheer and lace, covering just the most teasing areas.
“This? I’m wearing this?” I ask.
“Try it on. Let’s make sure it fits right,” the wardrobe attendant says.
I take off my clothes and slip into the bodysuit. I look into the mirror and am immediately struck with confidence. I look fucking hot.
I have curly, long locks of hair. Half of it’s extensions, but whatever. It looks good.
The body suit covers my nipples with black lace but shows off the shape of my breasts. The entire torso is sheer. The bottom is black lace just over my pussy, but sheer right up to it. I turn around to see a perfect lace tease line over my ass as well.
“Hell yeah, girl!” the wardrobe attendant says. “You’re going to rock it. Just make sure your dancing is on point!” she adds before she walks off.
“Dance?!” I shout. “I can’t dance.”
In a panic, I immediately whip out my phone and text Anders. I’m so shaken up I don’t hear the announcement for the line-up. My nice hair stylist guides me into place while I try to plead my way out to my brother.
I want to leave. I’m supposed to dance, and I just can’t. Let’s go.
Don’t be such a chicken. You’ll be fine.
As I go to reply, the organizer for the event comes through. He’s touching the hand of just a few girls and having them step forward as he makes his way down the lineup.
He stops at me and just stares for a moment. I give him a brief smile, trying to hide my nerves, and he pulls me out of the line and spins me around.
“This one,” he says. “This is the winning ticket for the night this year.”
“What does that mean?” I ask him.
Two attendants bring over a golden tiara and place it on my head. I touch it and look up as they situate it before returning my focus to the organizer.
“Your bid is going to start higher than the others. We’re going to open you at a million and max at a billion,” he explains. “No one has ever reached the billion, though.”
There’s no doubt in my mind that I’ll make enough to save the company tonight, but there’s no way I’d get a full billion dollars. Having the bid start so high is going to work well in my favor, which is great, because my knees are wobbling so hard from nerves that I feel like Bambi right now.
I zone out as we walk backstage. I’m entirely on auto-pilot. I’m so busy worrying that I’m not paying any attention to what’s going on around me.
Before I know it, I’m pushed from the back and onto the stage. I look out and throw my hands up over my face, trying to block the blinding light.
As my eyes adjust, I realize the music has started and the auctioneer has started the bidding. I move in very simple, hard to fuck-up moves. The bids are coming in left and right.
There’s so much noise in the room. The auctioneer, the paddles swiping through the air, the music…I’m feeling so overwhelmed.
But then I hear a bid of five hundred million dollars. I don’t need to focus on anything but dancing right now. The money is coming in regardless, and I just need to look sexy.
I tune out the auctioneer and the paddles and focus on the music. I find my own groove and start swaying and moving in ways I never thought I could.
No man has ever even seen this much of my body. And now the first image anyone has is me rolling my hips, grinding the air. I feel so empowered, and I just get lost in the music and dance my sexy ass off as the bidding continues.
I’ve never felt this way before. I’ve never wanted everyone’s eyes on me. Hell, even as a kid, I constantly just wanted to be in the background.
But not today. Not right now.
This is easily the best experience of my adult life, and I don’t want it to end.
Chapter 6
Declan
“Why the fuck am I even here?” I ask myself as I walk into the private building.
I don’t have time for this shit, and everyone in the place is looking for only one thing...pussy. I don’t have time for vanilla. I deserve and expect only the best, and I won’t likely find that here.
A man such as myself has refined taste in women. Don’t get me wrong, I’ll fuck most women who are pretty, but if I’m paying, it better be good.
I stand in the doorway, adjust the lapel of my Versace suit jacket, and scan the room. Most of these people can’t compare to me. They may have access to billions of dollars, but they don’t have my eye for art and design.
I’m surrounded by beautiful women all day, and it takes a lot to impress me.
The people here sure as fuck can’t measure up to me in any way.
Walking around the venue, I hear all manner of gossip about the Grayson brothers. We’re on the tip of everyone’s tongues.
“Did you see Jasper walk in? He’s so hot. I wonder how they’ll do without their father calling all the shots?”
What the fuck?
I don’t need to hear about my how impressive my brother is, and I certainly I don’t appreciate anyone speculating about our success, especially since I’m a billionaire in my own right without my father’s help.
I’ve always had an eye for beauty, and I’ve made the modeling division of Grayson Enterprises explode.
We’re the leading company in the sex industry already, and nothing will change that.
Nothing.
Waving to the advancing waitress, I decide I need a drink...a stiff one.
“Scotch on the rocks. Make it quick,” I tell her.
I need something stout to take my mind off things. The impending war with my brothers over territory is not pretty. We’ve managed to divide my father’s company into three parts, but we still can’t be in the same room together.
It amazes me, the power my family has. And yet my brothers and I can’t get along. Women love us, and men want to be us. The Grayson name speaks volumes in the world of sex and society.
Can you blame them? We’re hot chiseled beasts of men with power and influence.
I take my drink and put a twenty on the waitress’ tray. The poor girl smiles at me—like I’d be interested in someone like her. Maybe for a blowjob, but I don’t slum.
Unlike my brothers, I’m a voyeur. Scanning the room, I notice Finn and Jasper speaking to an older male at the bar. They look as disgusted as I am, but they’ll do well here.
We all have the same taste in women, but the difference is I would rather go home alone than settle down.
I check my Rolex. There’s fifteen minutes before the women are brought on stage and sold to the highest bidder. It sounds like something that happens only in third-world countries.
Not in America.
Anyone who thinks that human trafficking isn’t a big business is sadly mistaken. The difference is these women choose to be here. No one forced them.
The closer the time gets to the auction, the more the place fills up with men ready to spend money. I’ve been here a few times in the past, but I was never that interested.
“About fucking time you got here,” Finn says.
I laugh, swallowing the rest of my scotch.
“Yeah, like a Grayson needs to pay for pussy. I’m here to watch you two fight for the same chick,” I say, bitter laughter behind my words.
I join my two brothers, making sure to grab the mask from my seat. These little games are so secure that the bidders don’t show their faces. There’s no need.
You’re not here unless you can afford to be.
The mask is dark,
and I feel like the damn the Phantom of the Opera. I slip it on, smirking. There’s something sinister about playing another character.
Suddenly I’m invisible, another face in a sea of masked men and some women. The entire thing is elaborately conducted. And I can appreciate at least that, being a man who understands the aesthetic value in any situation. This place has some mystery and intrigue going on that’s befitting to a room filled with this many important people. In fact, I think I saw a senator or two in the crowd on my way in.
I take a seat next to my brother Finn who says, “You’re late.”
“So what? I’m here, aren’t I?”
“We’re supposed to put on a united front,” he says.
The lights dim suddenly, a signal that the show’s about to start.
The object of the game is to bid on virgins—who doesn’t want to be a groundbreaker at least once in their life?
The auctioneer comes out dressed in a suit that does justice to the high-profile people here. He at least looks the part.
“Gentlemen, are you ready to bid on the hottest women this side of hell? Loosen up your wallets and get ready to fall in love,” the auctioneer says.
I’m already bored. This idiot can’t be for real. Who the fuck said anything about love?
This is a pussy march, not a date with Cupid.
“What the fuck is this bullshit? Are you serious right now?” I whisper to my brothers.
Both throw me an annoyed glance.
I rub the subtle scruff on my chin as I look at the girls on stage.
This place is a joke. What the fuck’s so special about virgins anyway?
“Gentlemen, first out is Melanie. She is nineteen years old and has been saving herself for marriage. Luckily for you, she’s decided to give up the fairytale to one of you fine men,” the auctioneer says.
“We have better girls than this at my agency,” I quip, my humor dry as usual.
Finn elbows me in the side. He seems to be holding back laughter.
“Stop being a fucking dick all the time, Declan. Not everyone can be a model. Look, she’s trying to dance at least,” Finn says.
“She looks like she took dance lessons from the 80s,” Jasper adds.
