Chambers of Desire: Opus 1 (7 page)

”You’re a smart girl, Sabrina and I have a thing for smart women like you. What we’re going to do is to agree to spend the three weeks together and at some point we will have sex and I will make you mine… when both of us
are ready. Unless you change your mind.”

I stared at him, piecing together what he said. “But… that’s what the auction… that’s not in the contract, really?”

He shook his head, still smiling, “Well, we could just do it right now but even though you might say you’re ready, your eyes tell me that you’re not. You might be interested to know that I push the limit in bed in every sense of the way. But there won’t be any physical contact until you’re comfortable and want it to happen.
And I mean, would you want me to just do you right here right now? I want it to build up, I want us to get to know each other a little bit, and I want you to be confident this is what you want before you commit. Trust me, this decision is best for both of us.” His eyes promised that I
would
want it and beg for it in fact.

“That seems awfully considerate of you.”

Something was unusual about this guy. I mulled this over.  Of all of the things I’d expected, imagined… this wasn’t one of them.  On the one hand, it was a relief not to rush right to the bedroom.  He was right about one thing.  I wasn’t ready. But on the other hand, I didn’t know this man. Three weeks, all day, day in and day out… what if he changed his mind? What if
I did?
Having sex with a stranger is one thing (well, as I imagined it), having sex with someone I’d grown to actually dislike was something else.

Even at this early point, however, I was pretty sure I wasn’t going to stop being intrigued with Calvin.  If anything, three weeks might be all too brief.

“One more thing,” he said, uncrossing his legs. “If you sign this contract, any sexual contact with other men is strictly prohibited during the next twenty-one days.”

I stared at him uncertainly. Even though I did not intend to be intimate with anyone else while I was in New York, it seemed as though Calvin was making a very clear statement.

“Well, of course… I understand.” I said nervously. “I mean, you bid on my virginity, after all.”

“No, I don’t think you do understand,” Calvin said. “Yes, I’m talking about virginity, but that’s not all. I want you to be focused on me.  There will be no flirtations, no kissing, no sexual contact with anyone else. Any kissing or sexual contact will result in the deal falling through.”

I hadn’t had any plans… but this made me nervous.  Maybe it was because faithfulness itself was an upsetting topic for me. 
I saved myself for Brandon, and look where that got me.
I pushed the bitter thought away.  But I wasn’t going to agree without thinking through these feelings, either. This was so much different from what I’d expected. 

“I need some time to think it through,” I said.

“I understand,” he said. There was no trace of the smile I had seen earlier; his face was unrevealing, blank.

He slid his chair back, standing up to stretch. Wandering over to his bookshelf, he fingered the spine of an old atlas, worn and slightly frayed.

After a moment, he looked back toward me. “This might not be right for you. That isn’t my place to decide. If you realize that you’d prefer to go back to Dallas, that won’t be a problem.” 

He pulled a book off the shelf and leafed through it, pausing occasionally to study a random page. I tried to decipher the expression on his face, wondering whether his distraction was masking disinterest.

“I just need some time to digest everything,” I said softly.

“Of course,” he said, still looking through the book. “You might find the better option is to return to your life at SMU. I’d understand if you weren’t ready to move forward with this type of arrangement. Consider this option, carefully. Don’t make a mistake you’ll regret later on.”

It almost sounded as if he’d prefer I
didn’t
take him up on his offer; suddenly, he was starting to sound like my dad. It occurred to me that he might not want to spend the next three weeks with me, that this was just a chivalrous opportunity to release me from the obligation of giving my virginity to him. That seemed unlikely, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he was encouraging me to turn him down.

I realized I still didn’t know
why
he had done all this in the first place—the question that had scratched at my brain since I learned about his bid. “Are there… more details? What if I had a question for you?” I asked.

Calvin returned to his chair, giving me his full attention. “Certainly,” he said.  “What would you like to know?”

“What did you pick me?” I asked. Because, really, it didn’t make sense. He was charismatic, physically attractive, rich… I was just a girl who happened to be a virgin.

Again, he leaned forward as if he might let me in on a secret. I held my breath, not knowing what to expect.

“I don’t feel I have an adequate answer.  The truth is, I simply saw an article about the auction, and it—and
you—
fascinated me.  I didn’t decide in that moment to bid, but when I found myself thinking about you, the next day, and the day after… Well.” He smiled. “I have the luxury of indulging myself when I like to.  And very few things come along that really intrigue me.  You intrigued me, and so I indulged myself. It seemed like an opportunity to experience something… special.”

“Oh,” I said,
feeling
special. “Is that why you bid so much?”

He nodded.
”I bid so much for a few reasons.  One, because I can.” He smiled, and gave a charming shrug.  “Two, I hate to lose.  And three, I am a busy man. I didn’t want to waste time bidding, being out bid, bidding again.  Tedious.  So, I bid with the intent to win. So far I have. Of course, whether or not I’m satisfied with what I’ve won… that’s up to you.”

It sounded a little ominous… but it also thrilled me. In fact, everything he did sent little
frissons
of excitement though me.  “Have you done anything like this before?” I asked. I couldn’t help wanting to know more, to have an idea of who he
was
.

Calvin only smiled that slow half-smile. “Now, that is the sort of question I think is better left until you’ve made your decision. I’ll be happy to tell you anything you’d like, if you decide to sign… that will be our time to get to know one another better.  But until then, let’s stay focused on the present situation,” he replied, making it clear that until then, his private life would stay private. He stood back up and walked over to the desk on the other side of the room. From a small drawer, he pulled out a small card and began to write on the back.

“Any other questions?” he asked.
Yes! A million!
But I got the distinct feeling that he was done answering, so I shook my head. I had enough to think about already, anyway.

“In that case,” he said, “I’ll let you have your time to think.  Here’s my direct line.  Please call me as soon as you’ve come to a decision.  Du Cheval will see you out.”

Calvin took my hand again. “It was a pleasure meeting you, Sabrina,” he said.

I nodded, tongue-tied by his touch, all over again.
If such casual touching does this to me, what will it be like when…

He squeezed my hand once, his face unreadable, before he let go.   ”Thank you, I’ll be in touch soon.”

***

Outside, a shadow of clouds had gathered over the estate, erasing the sun streaks from the day. A cool breeze whipped around me, Du Cheval leading me to the car, and I could smell rain in the air. Sure enough, as soon as we meandered down the driveway, the clouds released their weight, raindrops loudly pelting the car roof.

I leaned my head against the cold glass, watching the water droplets snake down the window, and sighed. This was more than I had bargained for, although the allure of avoiding Dallas for a few weeks more was difficult to ignore.

To be honest, I was afraid, terrified in fact, thinking about what the next few weeks could hold—the unknown—but what frightened me even more was thinking about getting on a plane back to Texas. I didn’t want to go back to Dallas. I
couldn’t
. I wasn’t ready to face Brandon or my parents. I wasn’t sure whether I ever would be. What I wanted, what I
needed
, was a respite from their demands and painful accusations, something Calvin was offering me on a silver platter. A three-million-dollar silver platter, to be exact.

And I realized that I liked spending the morning with Calvin. He was far more interesting than I had expected. I didn’t know how he’d done that, causing alarm to surge through my body but at the same time offering safety and protection.

He differed from anyone I had ever met, so much more
real
than the phonies back in Dallas were, with their fake smiles and oh-so-perfect lives. Somehow, I knew I’d regret giving up the chance to become part of his world. This was truly the first time I made a decision without giving a second thought to what anyone else would think, which was exhilarating, and I didn’t want the feeling to end.

Doubts kept plaguing my mind. But the thoughts of Brandon and my nagging family pushed me towards the first truly independent, rebellious thing I have done in my life. Yes, it was controversial, yes, it was borderline obscene, but I figured after all these years of sacrifice I deserved to make one radical choice, even if it would end up being a mistake.
By the time I reached my hotel room, I had decided. My hand shook as I dialed the number on the back of the business card. The numbers were smudged across the smooth cardstock, most likely from my sweaty fingers running my hand over the ink, making sure it was real.

I had no doubts. I wanted to spend the next three weeks in New York. Instead of ringing, the phone went straight to voicemail. “
This is Calvin Chambers. Leave a message
.” Short, succinct.

“Calvin… it’s Sabrina.  I’ve thought it over.  I want to do this.”

I replaced the receiver gently, exhaling slowly. I had a feeling that, starting tomorrow, my life would never be the same.

Chapter 4

For the second day in a row, I woke with a start at 6:00 a.m. This time, however, the butterflies in my stomach had more to do with anticipation than fear. 
I had long been insecure about my sexuality and yet there was a part of me that longed to break free from my own complexes limitations.

The
red flags didn’t make it easier.  The painting in the lobby, the architecture of the house, the whole air of everything just seemed a bit eerie. And pushing the limit in bed “in every sense of the way”? Yikes. Calvin’s charisma had worked its magic with me, there was no denying that.  Yet he seemed to be a complicated man… a sort of man I’d never dealt with.

Did I really want to lose my virginity to this mysterious, intimidating man? The butterflies in my tummy said…
maybe.

Nevertheless, I was relieved that I didn’t have to decide today. I would see what happened, I decided; take it slow and do what felt right.

Calvin hadn’t returned my call until 10:30 last night, leaving me to wonder whether he really had changed his mind. I was a basket of nerves all day, staring at my phone, begging it to ring. Was he insulted that I hadn’t accepted his proposal on the spot? He had said to take the day—did he not mean that?

When the phone finally rang last night, I answered it breathlessly. His husky voice sent chills through my body, as if his lips were pressed closely to my ear. “Sabrina, it’s Calvin.”

“Oh hi,” I answered, trying to sound nonchalant. “Did you get my message?”

“Well, I’m looking forward to the next three weeks. Du Cheval will bring the contract in the morning.  After the paperwork is complete, he’ll bring you back to the house.”

“What time should I be ready?”

“Nine AM.”

“Um, how should I dress?” A girl needed to know the itinerary so she could plan what to wear, after all.

“Comfortably.  You don’t need to worry about details, Sabrina.  I’ll take care of anything you need while you’re with me.”

I didn’t feel like hanging the phone up just yet, but I couldn’t think of a reason to keep him.

“Good night.”

“Good night, Sabrina.”

***

When I walked into the lobby at 8:45 the following morning, Du Cheval was already waiting for me on a sleek white couch in front of a low coffee table. He stood politely to greet me, shaking my hand firmly. He was impeccably dressed in a pale gray three-piece suit. A polka-dotted ascot, loosely knotted around his neck, perfectly complemented his vibrant purple shirt. He could have stepped right off the pages of
GQ
.