I click the message open, and my mouth drops open, too.

Your pictures intrigue me almost as much as your coherently written profile. I have to admit, I never expected to find a woman like you on this site. Tell me something about yourself. My name is Declan,

Declan. I snort. Right. What kind of a name is that?

But still, it doesn’t look like the kind of message an automated bot would send. This sounds like an actual guy replying to me. Bidding on my virginity. And bidding $50,000, no less.

No harm in looking at how bad the damage is, right? I tap open his profile page.

Shit.

Okay. This has to be wrong. Some kind of prank or something. Or maybe some loser using someone else’s photos.

Because the man staring back at me from “Declan’s” profile page is one of the hottest men I have ever seen.

He’s older than me, probably in his early 40s judging by the touch of silver in his dark black hair and dotted across his beard. It isn’t so much a thick beard as it is about a week’s worth of stubble. His chiseled jaw and high cheekbones are exactly my type, and his light gray eyes bore into the camera, piercing. I swear it feels like he’s looking at me. I swallow hard, trying to regain my composure. Calm down, Joyce. It’s just one response on a crazy website for weirdos.

But to be honest, this guy does not fit the type I expected. I assumed the guys on this site would be creeps, unattractive pervs who could never get a real date or please a woman in bed. After all, why else go for virgins, unless you know that you couldn’t satisfy an experienced woman?

Having convinced myself that this guy isn’t worth freaking out over, I manage to go back to his page and scroll through his profile. Every photo, I have to admit, is hotter than the last. And I can’t help myself–I linger over his response to the question about his deepest fantasy.

“I fantasize about teaching a woman the full depth and breadth of pleasure: pleasure of the mind and the body. I want to take control of her body, take my pleasure from her, but also give her ecstasy in equal measure…”

It’s weird that those two sentences make me breathe a little harder, imagining the gray-eyed, sharp-jawed man in those photos doing that to me–taking control of me. I can picture him throwing me roughly across a bed; the way he’d look parting my knees, kneeling between my legs, his rough stubble scraping my inner thighs…

Pull it together, I scold myself. It’s one stupid profile. And, admittedly, one crazy high bid on me. Should I reply? Or just let this joke die the way it clearly needs to?

I slam my laptop closed, convinced I’ll forget about this soon. But as I go through my morning routine, all I can think about is his picture. Those serious, piercing eyes of his burning into mine as if he sees me through the computer screen. In the shower, running my soaped-up hands all over my body, I can’t help imagining they’re his hands. I trail them up my inner thighs, brush the spot where my thighs meet my hips, trace them along my hipbones, almost touching, almost brushing my mound, but not quite. Teasing myself. I circle my nipples, watch them harden even under the hot stream of water, and I picture his mouth closing around them, his tongue toying with me. I picture him watching me as he tastes every inch of my body, those eyes of his unable to tear away from mine.

Fuck.

Okay, fine, I think, as I climb out of the shower half an hour later than I intended. I’ll email him back. But nothing long or complicated. Just what he asked for, nothing more.

I sit back down in front of my laptop, wrapped in a towel, and type out a message as fast as possible. I don’t give myself time to second-guess or overthink this–I just hit send.

Kitty: Something about me: I never expected to be on a site like this. So no wonder you didn’t expect to find me. But what makes you bid that much money on a girl like me? I’m just curious…

I leave the computer open and step away to start throwing on clothes. To my surprise though, the computer pings just a few seconds later. I check the site to find he’s replied already. That was fast.

Here we go. He’ll give some crazy answer about how hot I am, how he couldn’t resist picturing me naked, I’m sure. I click open the message.

Declan: Sometimes the best decisions are unexpected ones. As for my bid, well, I have a few reasons. But my favorite book is also Where the Red Fern Grows, so that seemed enough of a sign to me.

My eyes widen. How does he know that? My heart skips a beat. But then I remember the profile, and drunk Violet filling most of it out on my behalf. I tap open my page, scroll down to the question about favorite books, and sure enough, there it is on the top of the list. Vi really does know me well, I have to say.

Kitty: A man with good literary taste, hmm? I have to say, that’s as big a surprise as me being on here.

I hit send, then linger at the keys. Watch the little icon appear that says he’s typing a response.

Declan: A good surprise, I hope.

Kitty: I guess that remains to be seen. After all, this is an auction site. You might not win in the end.

I grimace a little after sending that last one. Was that too forward? But when I read his response, I can practically hear the confident smirk in his words.

Declan: Oh, I’m not worried about that. You’re the first virgin on here who’s caught my eye. When I set my sights on something I want–or someone–I always win in the end.

A blush spreads across my face, though at least here, safely hidden behind a computer screen, it’s easier to reply.

Kitty: You seem very sure of yourself.

Declan: I am.

Declan: Aren’t you?

Kitty: I’m sure I’m probably out of my depth here. Though, maybe that’s a good thing, if you like teaching girls how to enjoy themselves.

Declan: Oh, I’m sure you already know how to enjoy yourself. I just want to be the first to experience how you enjoy yourself when there’s an audience.

Kitty: So you just like to watch, hmm?

Declan: I’d do far more than just watch, believe me. But if you enjoy showing off, I can imagine what a show a woman like you would be able to put on.

My cheeks were already flushed–now they feel red-hot.

Kitty: Picturing me in a compromising position already, are you, Declan?

Declan: I must confess, I began picturing the compromising positions I’d like to put you in from the moment I first saw you.

Damn, he’s good. I catch my breath, but as I’m thinking out my next reply, a different sound interrupts me. There’s another notification on the site, not from Declan this time. I click it open, realizing belatedly that it’s a counter-bid. But before I even have a chance to look at that offer, the site pings again. Declan out-bid whomever that was.

My virginity is going for $75,000 now.

I swallow hard and open up Declan’s chat window again.

Kitty: That was fast.

Declan: I told you. I always get what I want.

Kitty: Even if it’s expensive?

Declan: Especially then. But this isn’t just about money. I intend to make you mine, and I am not accustomed to being disappointed.

Not about money? I wonder, eying his counterbid. But I guess anyone who can throw away that much money that quickly, after barely knowing the person whose virginity he’s trying to buy, doesn’t have to worry about money. Ever.

Kitty: What is it about?

Declan: I’ll tell you more in person.

I swallow hard against a sudden constriction in my throat.

The man knows how to negotiate, I’ll give him that. I stare at the screen for a solid minute, debating. He must sense my hesitation because he sends another message quickly thereafter.

Declan: Somewhere public. Don’t worry. Besides, don’t you want to get an idea of who I am before we agree to this arrangement?

That’s true. I don’t think I could have sex with a complete stranger, just going in blind for my first time. Not after I’ve waited all this time.

Hell, I doubt I could have sex with someone I met on a website to sell my virginity for my first time, either. But what’s the harm in one date? We meet, we get to know one another, and then I can let him down easily. Explain that this is all just too strange. A joke spiraled out of control.

Kitty: Somewhere public. You have a place in mind, I presume?

Declan: See, you know me already. I always have a plan. Meet me tomorrow. 4pm at the Café Rouge. Little art house downtown, great coffee.

Kitty: What if I’m busy at 4pm tomorrow?

I reply, surprised by the way he already had a date and time in mind.

Declan: Are you?

I bite my lip, sigh, glance at my empty social calendar. Violet is working all weekend.

Kitty: Looks like you know me already too. I’m free.

I can practically hear the victory in his tone when he responds.

Declan: Perfect. Then I’ll see you there.

We sign off, and I collapse back onto my couch with a groan. What on earth did I just agree to?