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Sold as a Domme on Valentine's Day: A Virgin and Billionaire Romance by Juliana Conners (25)

Chapter 5

Jane

 

When I feel as collected as I’m likely to ever be, I stride back to my room and flop on my bed.  I dial her number, which is stored in my “favorites.”

When Mariah picks up, she sounds breathless. A little out of it. But, like me, it seems she’s trying to sound “put together” when she says, “Hey, Jane! What’s going on, girl?’

I give her what she is expecting. A sugary sweet giggle. Something full of energy. “I was calling to ask you the same thing, lady! What are you doing? Studying?” I pause, feeling the wetness in the back of my gown.

“A little,” she says.

In her voice, I can hear embarrassment. Excitement. Something about it sounds nearly sexual.

“Well, stop it,” I say.

I pin my phone to my shoulder and go in search of an appropriate suitcase. But not before flicking on the light in my bedroom. “You can study some other time. It’s Christmas break. Time to have fun with your friends.”

There’s deafening, nerdy silence. I don’t even have to be in her head to know she’s running through lists of what she’s got to do to remain on the Dean’s List. I choose my suitcase and pluck a few nice dresses and sleepwear from hangers while I’m there. Holding them over one arm, I move to my bed.

“What are you doing over break? Anything exciting?” I ask. I unzip my suitcase and quickly add my dresses and lingerie into the empty belly. Particularly my pink baby doll negligée. “Because I just got off the phone with my dad, and he’s being generous as usual.”

Mariah doesn’t respond to either piece of information, but I don’t care. I’m making my way to dresser drawers and grabbing more clothes. Fuzzy pants, sweaters, bras, and panties. All cute, all in preparation for some attention, if I’m lucky to get it. My hands full of clothing, I make it back around to my suitcase.

“He bought me a ticket to Aspen! To the ski resort there,” I add, hoping this will get her attention. Get her out of her head, which I know for sure is where she got stuck. Sometimes Mariah can be too smart for her own good. She needs to let go and live a little.

“Great,” says Mariah, sounding genuinely happy for me. “Have fun.”

Neatly and swiftly, I fold my underwear and bras and put them on top of my lingerie and dresses. “I’m not going alone, silly.”

I giggle, thinking about what it would actually be like for us to vacation together. How cute I could make her look on the slopes. That’s if I could make her wear something like some of the clothes I’m currently folding and putting into my travel bag. I love Mariah, but a t-shirt and jeans is usually as stylish as she gets, and I want to make her look stunning. “You’re going with me.”

“Oh, no,” she says. “I couldn’t… I mean, I have studying to do for next semester.”

I let her ramble. Like with my dad, I’ve heard this all before from her. It’s an old excuse. I’m tired of it. I want to say so, but I channel that energy into gathering warm socks. The last bits of clothing, before I head into the bathroom to grab my makeup and other toiletries.

“I have to get ahead in this book for my humanities course before classes start again,” Mariah is saying. I sigh. Roll my eyes, feeling annoyed and sad.

“Please,” I say, feeling like pieces of my heart are about to be pissed on the carpet. “My dad can’t use the ticket he bought.” I march back to my bed, putting my makeup bag in the open space I’ve left. “Says he has to work. I can’t go alone. And we’ll have so much fun together!”

A pause. In it, I feel my loneliness rear its ugly head. My frustration at not having a dependable man in my life. I spend a few precious seconds there, before forcing myself to smile. Put on a happy front for her saying, “So please say you’ll come with me.”

“Listen” — oh, God I hate this! She’s going to say no. She sounds just like my dad when she takes that tone with me! — “I wish I could go with you to Aspen, Jane, but I can’t.”

“Oh, okay.” I’m trying to hide my disappointment, but I’m failing miserably. 

I can’t keep the sadness from my voice. I’m miserable, and I want Mariah to know it. I know I’m being selfish. But I want somebody to give a fuck after the night I’ve had.

“I already promised my mom I’d be home for Christmas,” Mariah mumbles. It’s low enough I think Mariah’s hoping I don’t hear her, but I do. I can’t put on a big fake happiness show for one more minute.

“You always do everything for everyone else, Mariah, but what about you?”

All Mariah has is a sigh for me, so I go ahead and talk over it. Suddenly, my fingers clench around the phone. Ball up into a little fist, as I jam the top of the suitcase down on top of my clothing.

“Are you ever going to care about your needs?” I know I’m using words to manipulate her and it isn’t fair, but I’m so desperate to have her come with me. I zip up the suitcase, even when it tries to get stuck on me.

Mariah doesn’t answer.

“Well, if you’re not going to care about you, I will.” To calm down, I take a deep breath and haul the heavy suitcase off my bed and to the space near my door.

“Come with me.” Somehow, now that I’m all packed, I’m not as sad. “Come skiing. Get some fresh air. Make memories with your bestie.” I press my mouth on the phone. Sexily. Needfully, knowing Mariah can’t refuse me when I’m cute. I have that effect on people, regardless of if they’re a guy or a girl. “Come on, Mariah. It’ll be fun.” I pause, putting every stray bit of sweetness I can muster into the next word. “Please?

Silence follows, but it’s a good kind of silence. Mariah’s fidgeting in it. Fluttering excitedly around in it, and I leave her there. But not without continuing to list benefits of a mountain vacation; fresh air, exercise cute guys and more opportunities to show off your curves, but finally I get an answer. One I’m not expecting.

“Yes.” She breathes, excitedly.

“What?” I’ve started undressing so I can get in the bath.

“I’ll go.” The wide smile I can hear in her voice makes me smile, too “I’ll come with you to the resort!”

When she says that, I lose my mind. I kick off my dress, panties, and bra, and let myself celebrate. “Whoo-hoo!” I squeal, dancing into the bathroom. “That’s my girl!”

I turn on the water for the bath and drop in one too many bath bombs. Hibiscus and strawberry, my favorite.

“What time will you pick me up?”

“Be ready to leave by 7 AM, girlie,” I say. “That’s when I’ll be outside waiting for you.” I swish my free hand through the hot, foaming water. “And don’t worry. We’ll stop for coffee on the way.” With that, and a bit of celebrating from Mariah, I hang up and get ready to enjoy the second and last bit of pleasure for the night.

My bath.

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