Just like the books.
5 years ago.....
TO MOST PEOPLE, It may seem like a bad idea. Some may even go as far as calling it unfair. But for twenty-year-old, Aurora Pappalardo, it was her last chance at losing her virginity in what she believed to be a romantic way.
With her wedding to Maximo Khomeini, a Spanish billionaire based in New York City, just a week away, it was now or never. The opportunity had surprisingly presented itself, when her sixty-year-old fiance, pulled out of a business dinner at the last minute, to be with his twenty-two-year-old daughter who suffered from one of her famous maniac episodes this evening.
She'd wasted no time in offering to go on his behalf and insisted on it when he refused. It made perfect sense to go since she was already dressed for the event before he decided to sit it out.
Aurora had never been this spontaneous. And to be honest her knowledge on seduction was only limited to what she'd read in novels and the little she'd looked up on the internet while on her way here.
She'd always imagined her first time to be with her husband--a handsome young man who would have her wet and ready just by a smile on his face or the flex of his muscle. Her sexual fantasies had always been with her idea of a perfect husband because her late father had been a bit on the religious side. He never failed to drone into her ears, tales about the fiery pits of hell and the eternal damnation that awaited people who engaged in premarital sex.
So all her life she'd stayed clear off boys, following his beliefs and instructions to the letter. But as her wedding day drew near, Aurora realized that sticking to those beliefs would definitely deny her the pleasures that came with doing it with a younger experienced lover.
The Internet and the stash of romance novels tucked away in her wardrobe, had told her of a passion so intense that she decided to experience it herself. Not a single one of those books spoke of sex with a man three times her age. That was probably because it wouldn't be as remarkable.
Those books had described to her, rich handsome men with anger issues, playboy tendencies, or charming demeanors. The girls in most of them had been exactly like her--virgins who found themselves in complicated situations before they met the men that swept them off their feet and blew their problems away. Tonight, was the night she got to live out a character from those books.
And what better place to find millionaires or billionaires with anger issues, charming demeanor, or playboy tendencies than at a business meeting dinner at a luxury hotel in London.
She wasn't just going to sleep with the first man who said hi, no. If that was the case she would have been done with the deed by now because a handful of prospective candidates had already approached her table, expressing their desires to dance with her. But she'd politely declined their request, keeping the flames burning for the right person.
It was exactly how the ladies she'd read about behaved. They didn't latch unto the first guy that said hi. No sir, they didn't. They waited and then he just showed up. Their body reacted in a certain way and they knew he was the one.
She hadn't felt such reactions since she arrived at the dinner. And the longer she waited, the more her heart had sunk, heavy as lead. None of the men around had remotely interested her enough to give them her virginity.
Tonight had been her last, last chance…
Tomorrow she and Maximo were flying off to Greece so she could oversee the final wedding arrangements. So, if it didn't happen now, it would never happen again. He had an army of bodyguards which she'd been able to escape tonight but there would be no such luck in Greece.
Worry closed over her. Everything had been in vain. All for nothing. The hair, makeup... She had even ditched her thick-rimmed glasses and gone through the pain of inserting eye contacts by herself just because she'd looked up the Internet at the last minute and it said they were a sexier option for glasses.
A waiter approached her table, deftly placing a starter course in front of each guest--they were six with the absence of the person whose name tag was on the space beside her. As she'd murmured her desultory thanks, another taller figure, in a black jacket, not white, had suddenly also been standing there momentarily. Then he took his seat--the empty one beside her.
"Do please excuse me--I've been delayed," he apologized briefly to the table. He nodded at several of the guests, acknowledging them by name, and then turned to his right. To her.
"Mariano Barrera," he said, holding out his hand.
But Aurora wasn't capable of responding. She was simply staring. Her body, innards inclusive, were going above and beyond what the books had described.
The man who'd just joined the table was…devastating.
The word thudded in her brain.
He couldn't be much more than thirty, surely, with a whipcord leanness to him that was accentuated by the superb cut of his tuxedo--just as the dark tan of his face, his sable hair, were accentuated by the brilliant white of his dress shirt.
She gazed helplessly.
The planed contours of his face, the high, strong cheekbones, the straight nose, sharply defined jawline…And his mouth…
Sculpted, mobile, sensual.
She dragged her eyes upwards.
Straight into his.
It was dark—obsidian-dark—but flecked very deep within with gold. They were on her—looking at her with total, absolute focus.
She felt weak, breathless. This was the man she was going to be losing her virginity to tonight. He had to be the one.
Something flickered in his gold-flecked eyes. "And you are…?"
His voice was deep, making her toes
curl in their narrow high-heeled shoes. There was faint speculation in his voice. She could hear it, it quivered through her.
"You don't know me," she breathed helplessly, her eyes still speared by his. She couldn't drag them away, just couldn't.
He smiled. Her heart thrashed against her ribcage at alarming rates. If she continued this way she was going to die. She had to breathe and focus on controlling herself. Reluctantly she tore her gaze from him briefly.
"Not yet," he murmured in reply and she glanced back at him. He raised his outstretched hand a bit, drawing her attention to it just as planned.
"Oh, sorry." Numbly she placed her hand into his waiting one. It was warm. "Aurora Pappalardo."
The pressure of his grip was firm, but as he slid his hand away there seemed to her to be the slightest, the very slightest, reluctance to do so.
Then one of the other guests at the table addressed a remark to him. For one last, brief moment his eyes held hers, and then they moved. Both men were discussing business as waiters scurried around the hall.
She reached for her champagne flute—there couldn't be any harm in going on gazing at him, could there? While he talked to his
business acquaintances…
She took a mouthful of champagne. It tasted warm. It had been poured out too long ago.
"Allow me--" He stopped his conversation, helped himself to the bottle of white wine left in its chiller by the wine waiter. As he took
it out he glanced assessingly at the label as if to check it was up to standard, before filling her white wine glass.
"Th-" she cleared her throat and tried again. "Thank you,"
"My pleasure," he said.
His long-lashed, gold-flecked eyes swept over her and Aurora felt her stomach plummet all over again.
She looked away and took a deep breath, trying to get it together. The last thing she wanted was to appear like a fool. In the books she'd read, most of the authors portrayed the women as lovesick puppies, tongue-tied to a point of stupidity at the sight of the men. She'd hated those scenes in the books. She couldn't be one of those girls right now.
Yes, she was a virgin on a mission to get laid, bamboozled by the looks of her most preferred candidate but she couldn't get carried away.
She was done with the first most important part of her plan now--getting the guy. The second most important part was next on her list.
All she had to do right now was google a way to ask a handsome stranger for sex without losing all of her remaining home training.
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