Dana’s always had a clear vision of what she wanted out of life. But when her father dies during her final year of college, Dana’s whole world threatens to topple down. In desperate need of money, she comes up with an idea. It’s scandalous. It’s HOT. And it’s got everybody talking. . .Is Dana really going to auction off her own virginity? And at what cost?
Meet Mason. He is used to getting what he wants. The head of his own corporate empire, he has wealth, means, and no shortage of beautiful women ready to fulfill his every need. But despite having it all, Mason is bored. Until he comes face-to-face with a woman from his past–one who will do anything to get what she wants. But is her desire for Mason worth the risk?
Mason sat in the leather chair at the desk in his den and opened his browser. He reviewed his email, answering a few, and adding a few things to his calendar. He sighed and glanced at the clock. His dinner would be in the oven for another fifteen minutes.
A chat window opened, from his friend, Guy.
“Hey, your SL gone home already?”
Guy called his subs sluts—in fact, he called the women he spent time with sluts, too—but he knew Mason wouldn’t put up with it, so he called them SL, which he said was short for slave, but Mason knew he was just yanking his chain.
He didn’t feel very talkative.
“So all alone in your big house. Bored, yeah? You really should look into that service I was telling you about. FYI, they just got a new batch of SLs. Or should I say, SL-wanna-bes. J”
Then the link appeared in the chat window.
Guy knew Mason had been bored lately and told him he needed to shake things up sexually. Then he’d told him about this service that allowed a young woman to essentially sell her virginity to a wealthy man for a hefty sum of money. The fee was fifty grand. The guys who frequented the service could drop that amount without blinking an eye and some justified it by saying it was doing a great service because most of these young women were college students who used the money to pay for their education. In fact, it had been dubbed the Scholarship Fund by the men who used it.
Guy had closed his chat session, but Mason found himself staring at the link.
He had absolutely no interest in deflowering some virgin, but he couldn’t help wondering what kind of women would allow themselves to get involved in this kind of thing. Why did they resort to selling their bodies? Didn’t they have parents who could help them? Were they too lazy or inept to earn the money on their own?
He found himself clicking on the link.
A black screen opened displaying a simple insignia with a lone field underneath, requesting that he enter a code.
He knew from what Guy had told him that one had to be registered to enter the site. And Guy had paid the thousand dollars to register him as a birthday present last month.
Mason entered the username Guy had given him. BoredDom.
A new page displayed. He selected the page that talked about the type of women available through the service. It gave a pitch about how wholesome and safe they were, how enthusiastic the young women were to have this opportunity, and generally made the whole thing sound like a bunch of girl scouts wanting to sell cookies to help the poor.
He clicked on the link that would allow him to view the current women available. He wondered if the women would be naked or in seductive poses. When the page came up, it offered various selection criteria based on physical appearance, age, education level, et cetera. He just clicked on New Arrivals.
A new page opened and he stared at a list with pictures on the left and brief bios on the right. The four photos visible on the page were all of quite lovely looking young women gazing at him with bright smiles, wearing normal street clothes and sitting in a chair with their hands folded in their laps.
The photographer was excellent, though, because somehow he captured a distinct personality in each of them. They were all posed the same way, and they all smiled, but the first one clearly had an impish side. Maybe it was the way her lips turned up that gave that impression, or the glint in her eyes. The second seemed more timid. The third, he sensed would have a fiery temper, even though her hair was golden blonde rather than red.
He scanned down the page, viewing each smiling face. The timer on his phone sounded, indicating that his dinner was ready. He glided his cursor up to close the window when his eye caught on one of the smiling faces.
He frowned, then stared at the familiar smile and wide innocent eyes. But he must be mistaken. He clicked on the link labeled Details and a bigger picture of the woman appeared. His stomach clenched. Fuck, that was her. His gaze glided to the name to confirm.
Fuck, what the hell was Dana doing on a site like this.
As a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of erotic contemporary romance, Opal Carew writes about passion, love, and taking risks. Her heroines follow their hearts and push past the fear that stops them from realizing their dreams… to the excitement and love of happily-ever-after.
Opal loves nail polish, crystals, dragons, feathers, cats, pink hair, the occult, Manga artwork, Zentangle, and all that glitters. She earned a degree in Mathematics from the University of Waterloo, and spent 15 years as a software analyst before turning to her passion as a writer. She grew up in Toronto, and now lives in Ottawa with her husband, and three cats. One of her sons just finished a Masters degree at Sussex University in the UK and is now pursuing a second Masters at Carleton University in Ottawa. The other son is working on his undergraduate degree at Carleton University. Yes, mom is proud!