Hard Bargain: A Virgin Auction Romance Read online

  And Tom knew that he couldn’t allow her to be with anyone else for her first time. He felt he understood her better than most. It was irresponsible to allow her to die with the dogs of that small town.

  He closed his eyes as he entered the number. 50,000 dollars into the bidding slot, along with a username of cowboy1. He pushed away thoughts of what it would feel like when she spurned him, when she ran away with the money and never spoke to him again (so much like Mandy). He knew he couldn’t linger on resentment, especially when he was taking a chance this big.

  “You have an opportunity to experience something really special,” he told himself, understanding that his intentions weren’t all pure. He hadn’t fucked a virgin since he was in high school. He longed to remember that tightness, that initial rush. He longed to bring her to her first orgasm. He imagined her looking up at him with big, moon eyes, that seemed to tell him how important he was to her story. The first orgasm was important, held the weight of your very biological life in its metaphorical hands. Tom could still remember his, in the bathroom as a 12-year-old boy, nearly crying with the pleasure of release.

  Tom hit the SEND button, then. He watched as cowboy1 elevated to the very top of the chart, dwarfing the 17,000 dollar bid, and all other bids beneath it. He couldn’t imagine that anyone else would come close.

  He snapped his laptop closed and cinched his blinds, his mind focused upon one, very necessary act. He spun his boots from his legs, unhooked his jeans, and wrapped his hand around his great, pulsing cock. It was massive, even in his giant hands. And he thought about that beautiful girl, with the nervous eyes and quick wit, who he’d make come in an explosive orgasm as soon as he could.

  Somewhere, far down the road, Nicole rushed quickly back toward Chrissy’s house, her brain humming with an internal lust for that man, Tom, who she’d always noticed, but never spoken to. They’d shared a beer, and the air between them had held such intensity, she could hardly breathe.

  But she eased her head back, allowing the cool breeze to cascade through her brown, curly hair. And she forced herself to concentrate on the road ahead: the bidding, her first sexual encounter, and then her escape from that terrible, small town. Desire for Tom couldn’t get in her way.

  5

  Nicole crept into Chrissy’s driveway after running the last of her groceries to her various clients around town. Her knees creaked slightly as she moved from the pickup. God, she’d been on her feet for most of the day, and the fatigue was inching through her. She sighed evenly, donning her backpack and revving toward the porch. Chrissy had promised they could have a night in together that night, safe from men like cotton-candy-Chris, not to mention all of the bidders (who were giving Nicole endless anxiety).

  As she tapped toward the door, she shivered slightly, remembering the image of that sexy farmer, Tom, in his kitchen. She’d always eyed him, ever since she’d begun working for him. But he hadn’t paid much attention to her (not that she’d been into that, previously, due to her abstinence from sexuality). She knew about his ex-fiancé, Mandy, and her run-away bride status. Nicole had heard she’d taken off to a western state, perhaps Oregon, and opened a restaurant—spinning herself as far away from her Texas roots as possible. In some ways, Nicole felt envious of this woman. She had the strength and the passion for her own livelihood to rid herself of any weight—like a fiancé.

  Nicole swung through the door and found her best friend, Chrissy, on the couch. A pile of pizza boxes lined the coffee table, and she tapped the seat beside her. “Come on. The pizza just arrived. Still hot. Plus, there’s cheese bread.”

  “Oh my god, you know me too well,” Nicole teased, bounding toward her. She squished onto the couch, leaning toward her and diving into the pie. She bit into the gooey cheese and sighed. “Jesus, I didn’t know this was what I needed today.”

  Chrissy laughed. “You know what else you need? You need to look at this bidding sheet.”

  “I don’t know, Chrissy,” Nicole said, eyeing the floor. “I just don’t want to think about it anymore today, you know? I had a long day, and I just don’t want to see people like SuckPuppy24 and YourDaddy55 bidding over my naked body. It turns my stomach, you know?”

  But Chrissy’s eyebrows waggled. “Trust me. You’re going to like what you see.”

  Nicole hesitated before bowing her head and taking a quick peek at the computer screen. And the moment she did, she felt her brain erupt with disbelief.

  “What the fuck?” she whispered, shaking her head. She grabbed the laptop and pushed her eyes closer, as if gluing her pupil to the screen would make it any more real. “50,000 dollars? That’s—that’s impossible. I am not worth 50,000 dollars,” she breathed, feeling tears pop into her eyes.

  “Apparently this town thinks you are,” Chrissy said, grinning. “If I would have known the kind of cash you could get for being a virgin at your age, I would have held on to mine. Jesus. That’s more than I’ll make in the next two years!”

  Nicole leaned back heavily, the weight of the money hitting her hard, like a brick. “And he just wants one night, right?”

  “It says just one night on the website. So I think he’s legally bound to that. I mean, as legal as this can be,” Chrissy said, shrugging. “His name is cowboy1. Do you know any men who wear cowboy boots and a cowboy hat and also tend to cattle, by chance?”

  “Oh, you mean all of the men in town?” Nicole said, laughing. She placed the rest of her slice of pizza back in the cardboard box, suddenly void of hunger. The reality was hitting her. “This is going to be the one, isn’t it?”

  “I don’t really imagine anyone’s going to go over 50,000, really,” Chrissy said. “I think your best bet is to call it off now and get it over with. By that I mean—get it on with cowboy1.” She snickered slightly, clearly not sensing the brevity of the situation.

  Nicole lifted herself from her place on the couch, pacing slightly, waving her fingers over the sweat that aligned itself on her neck and dripped down her cleavage. She felt suddenly shy, as if she stood before her friend completely naked. “Do you think I still have to go through with it?” she breathed. Her brain seemed to rally with her mother’s words, telling her that abstinence was essential. It was the word of God.

  Chrissy’s left eyebrow rose high, assessing her. Nicole knew her every thought was transparent to Chrissy, who had known her as a child. She leaned forward, her breasts dipping low. “Listen, Nicole. I know you’re nervous about giving up on this virginity thing. I know you’re worried about eternal damnation and all that. But listen. People are far more complicated than God gives them credit for. Including you, my girl. You’re far more complicated, and far more rich with personality than any David, Peter, or John. Do you understand that?”

  Nicole sighed through her nose, feeling utterly defeated. She felt her head spinning. “I know what you’re saying is true,” she whispered, her voice harsh. “And I know, ultimately, this is a means to an end. We can both escape with this money.”

  “You forgot one more thing,” Chrissy said, leaning deeper. “This sexual encounter isn’t going to mean anything to you at all. Trust me, as someone who’s slept with many, many men. You’re going to sleep with him, close your eyes, and go to sleep. Every day after that, you’ll forget just a little bit more about the experience. You won’t fall in love with him, and he won’t fall in love with you. It’ll be simple, like a clean break.”

  “A clean way to lose your virginity?” Nicole whispered.

  “I know it doesn’t sound that way, since you’ve been taught to live in shame,” Chrissy murmured, “but trust me. The moment it’s over, you’ll be on your way to forgetting.”

  Nicole had no reason not to place full trust in her best friend. She heaved back onto the couch, deciding that whoever cowboy1 was, he wouldn’t mean a lick to her. Sure, she could chalk him up as her “first.” But, as Chrissy stated, she didn’t have to give him any more of herself than was required via the “legality” of the bidding web
site.

  Once it was over, it was over.

  “Oh. There’s another thing,” Chrissy began, lifting another triangle pizza slice to her mouth and pausing, the tip drooping in the air. “Your dad stopped by.”

  “Shit,” Nicole whispered, leaning her head into her hands. “What did he say?”

  “You know. All the normal shit you’d expect from a distraught preacher,” Chrissy said, trying to make light of it. “He told me you were living in sin with me, that we would both go to hell if we didn’t repent. I told him to get the hell off of our porch.”

  “He came into your house and started spouting those words?” Nicole asked, incredulous. “That seems insane.”

  “You didn’t ever think your father was normal, did you?” Chrissy teased. “Anyway. I told him to get off my porch, or else Jeff would shoot him where he stood.”

  “He doesn’t know you and Jeff broke up again, then?”

  “I suppose word hasn’t gotten around yet. He scuffled off, looking flabbergasted. I used to be like a daughter to him, you know? I’m sure it’s a big shock for him to understand that I have to fight him, now. Just like you have to. That bastard, hypocrite.”

  Nicole nodded, shrugging slightly. She felt a distance from her father that she couldn’t quite put into words. “I should go see him. We should have the full talk, I suppose,” she murmured, rubbing her eyes. “But honestly, I just want to see this town in my rearview mirror. I want to go far, far away, get into college, and find a different way to live. Maybe that means I kiss my faith goodbye forever, as well. I just can’t tell.”

  “Good riddance, I say,” Chrissy said, winking. “You’re a lot more fun without it.”

  “You didn’t tell me I was so boring before!” Nicole said, her mouth opening wide.

  “How could I? You were always deep in prayer,” Chrissy teased. She nabbed her friend’s ear and shook it lovingly. “We’ve talked too much, now, and the pizza’s gone cold. I’m going to heat it up in the oven. Care to help me, or do you want to sit here and figure out if you should pray before you eat the rest of it?”

  Nicole rolled her eyes and followed her friend into the kitchen, where a pot of flowers lay, centered on the table. Nicole eyed them, lifting her finger. “What is—"

  “Jeff stopped by after your father left,” Nicole said, shrugging. “He heard about the cotton candy guy, and he was jealous, I suppose. He wanted to yell at me, but he brought flowers instead. Maybe he’s really starting to learn how to be a boyfriend. Of course, he always bounces back to his asshole nature after a week or two.”

  “So you guys are back on, then?” Nicole laughed.

  “No way. He has to earn it, first,” Chrissy said, flipping her hair. She adjusted the oven temperature up high and stuffed the pizza inside. “I mean, I’m not going to ask for 50,000 dollars to get me back. I’m not as expensive as some people. I’m like a second-hand store, compared to your high-end, luxury boutique.” She crossed her arms.

  “You’ve been open for business a lot longer than I have,” Nicole said. “I don’t know the first thing about business.”

  “Trust me, girl. The moment you’re open, your body and mind will tell you what to do. I have a pretty good sense that you’ll be a natural at this business. You’re famous for miles and miles around already.”

  The girls ripped into reckless giggles, then. Chrissy busted open a bottle of wine and poured them both lavish glasses. They clinked them together, praying to a different kind of god—the god of fun, of party, of life, rather than death and doom.

  They waited for the pizza to re-heat and stood at the window, watching the neighbors roll by on bicycles, on scooters. An old man crept by on a walker, much like a turtle, his nose forward and his back stooped. “Imagine the girls he got back in his day,” Chrissy murmured, her eyebrows waggling. “He got pussy. Just look at him. His eyes tell the whole story.”

  “He just looks like an ancient old man to me.” Nicole shrugged. She eyed him closely, at the geriatric dullness of his face and the wrinkles in his hands. She tried to imagine his body being touched. But she quivered at the thought.

  “That’s your problem, little miss,” Chrissy said. “You don’t give anyone sexual credit. I’m sure you never thought of your parents as sexual beings before this whole thing got started. Did you ever ask them how they met?”

  Nicole considered this. She remembered a broken, half-assed tale her mother had once told her about first meeting her father at a church youth group, about five years before she’d been born. She said she’d known instantly that the man was of God, that he would lead the people toward better, less sinful lives.

  But she’d never spoken of any passion for Nicole’s father. She’d never exhibited any lust for him. In fact, Nicole realized that she’d hardly seen her parents kiss or hold hands. She shook with sudden sadness, staring down the fact that her mother and father might not have had that strong bond of love meant for a husband and wife.

  “I’m not sure it was real for them,” she whispered then. “I hope I find someone who will feel that way for me. I hope I have a link with someone, down the line, that makes the sex worth it. Otherwise, we’re all just lonely bodies, sleeping by ourselves deep into the night. And that’s terrifying.”

  6

  Tom received the email on his lunch break. He stood over his computer, sweat from the fields pouring down his face, and realized the day had finally arrived. The day Nicole would have to stare down the face of what she’d done—and ultimately meet him, her highest bidder.

  “Hey there, cowboy1,” the email began. Tom stomped toward the couch, his brain buzzing, carrying his laptop. Outdoors, the cows were mooing recklessly, aching for him to return to his duties. But his groin churned him back toward the email, to the excitement of the unknown. In many ways, the unknown was precisely whatever lurked beneath those Daisy Dukes.

  He continued reading. “I suppose you’re the lucky ‘winner’ of this bidding war. At 50,000 dollars, I don’t figure you’re one of the poor suckers in this town. Unless, of course, I’ve run you out of your luck, just by offering up my body. And for that, I suppose I apologize—although it’s purely your fault.”

  At this, Tom found himself grinning. The girl was bright, a star of intelligence in an otherwise dull and lifeless town.

  The email continued, “Now that I’ve closed the bidding, I’d like to suggest that we meet for the first time. Because you’re putting the money down for this, I assume you know how you’d like this date to go. We can meet at a hotel room, at your place, or in the middle of a field, for all I care. That is—if you like it dirty.”

  Tom scratched at his beard, sensing that these words were not her own. It was clear she was trying to play the “role” of the sexual object, despite being incredibly more interesting than that. He swept back on the couch, his brain buzzing. He rubbed his scalp with his fingernails.

  He remembered the elaborate dates he’d taken Mandy on. The baseball games they’d gone to in the city, the dinners and movies and boat rides. His favorite part about dating her had been seeing her face light up at just spending time with him. He didn’t need to be fucking her or stripping down or being any kind of animal. He just needed to be human.

  He placed his fingers on the keyboard, gearing up for his own email. He sensed he was sending it a bit too early, that he should wait, pretend he had a life of his own. But in truth, he’d been hanging on moments till she messaged him. And he was tired of pretending anything else.

  “Hey, Nicole,” he said, channeling his inner cowboy1. “It’s good to hear from you. For a moment, I thought you’d back out of this very brave, very—shall I say—sexy decision to rid yourself of your virginity. We all have to lose it somehow, right?” He rubbed his hands together, his mind rushing. “Anyway. Instead of meeting in the middle of a field or in a maggot hotel room, why don’t we meet for dinner first? I must say, despite the fact that I bid on your virginity, I’m a traditional man with traditiona
l values. And that said, I like to eat steak before I do anything. Let me know if you’d like to meet me at the downtown roadhouse tonight at 8:00 p.m. I’ll be there with a back shirt, my cowboy boots (of course), and my dashing smile. All my love, cowboy1.” He frowned, gazing over the words. Before he could over-think anything, he snapped his mouse over the SEND button, and found himself on the other side. He’d propositioned a real date.

  He paced around the living room after that, his hand behind his back. He remembered how empty his heart had been in the days and weeks after Mandy had left him. He remembered that the wedding cake had already been purchased, and that he’d spent an entire day eating it and watching daytime television, the stink of his body filling the living room. Mandy had never allowed him to look so ratty. She’d never allowed him to give in to what she called his “manly urges.” But with her gone? All the rules were kaput.

  After what seemed like centuries, his phone buzzed, alerting him to a message. He lifted it, knowing that if it were just a text from his cowhand, he’d break the lamp. He swallowed. His throat no longer held enough spit for comfort.

  Sure enough: Nicole had messaged him back. Relieved, his eyes fluttered and he crept back onto the couch to read it. He held the phone far too close to his eyes, causing his pupils to burn.

  “Thanks for your message, cowboy1,” it began. “I really appreciate your thoughtfulness, and your affinity for steak dinners. I’ll meet you at the roadhouse tonight, certainly. Me and half the town will be there, I’m sure. But this was never going to be a private affair, was it? See you then.”

  Tom lurched from his seat, quivering with excitement. He felt his staff shove up against his leg, pulsing, its veins pushing from his skin. He felt masculine, rough. He began to unbutton his shirt, itching at the black, coarse hairs beneath, and he yanked himself upstairs, where he needed to find a proper outfit. This was his first date in years. And he wasn’t going to fuck it up by looking like some kind of lonely slob.