Buying the Virgin

Chapter 85: The Girl Who Was Hunted - Chapter One

CHARLOTTE

Sitting in my room, the small private space that I call my own, in the house I share with seven other

students, my phone beeps. It’s an incoming message, from Michael

“Purchase completed fifteen minutes ago. Your Home awaits you.”

*****

Fumbling, as I balance my bags in one hand, door keys to the lock in the other, I step into the hallway

of the student house.

As I tramp upstairs, a voice floats down from the top floor; Marie. “That you, Charlotte?”

“Yup,” I shout back.

“You’ve got visitors…. They’re up in the kitchen here. I made them a coffee while they waited.”

I don’t get visitors. There is only one possibility. Racing upstairs, I dash into the kitchen, and, yes, it’s

them, my Master and Michael, both grinning wildly.

“Surprise!” says Michael. He sweeps me into his arms, swinging me around, kissing me on the mouth.

My Master, more circumspect, touches me on the shoulder, kissing my forehead. “Hello, Charlotte.

Lovely to see you.”

“Mas…. James! Michael…” Suddenly conscious of Marie’s stare, I say. “Oh, Marie. This is Michael, my

fiancée and… James…. his friend. This is Marie, one of the other house shares.”

Marie is looking at Michael with far too much interest for my liking. “Ah…. the mysterious fiancée at

last,” she says. “We’ve been wondering what you’d be like… Can’t say I blame Charlotte for keeping to

herself so much when I see what she’s saving herself for….”

Michael says nothing. With his blond, blue-eyed, good looks, he always draws attention. My Master

sucks in his cheeks, looking amused.

“Come on downstairs,” I say. “We can talk in my room. It’s a bit quieter there. Thanks for making the

coffee, Marie.”

“Oh, no problem.” She eyes Michael, all too obviously, and he pointedly fails to notice.

Down in my room, with the door closed behind us, and now with privacy, my Master wraps his arms

around me, holding me tight, his mouth opening over mine. His kiss is long and slow, and when he

finally pulls away, he remains close, his arm pulling me in at the waist. “We’ve missed you,” he says.

“I’ve missed you too. Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I’d have at least made sure I had some

chairs for you to sit.”

“We thought you would enjoy a surprise visit.”

With the three of us in my mini-flat, it becomes obvious how small it. It’s fine just as my study room; a

bed, a desk, bookshelves, a chair, wardrobe and built-in drawers, but now, my Master sitting on the

single chair, Michael sits on the end of the narrow bed as I put on the kettle. Then I have to go back up

to the kitchen to find a couple of extra mugs.

Returning with the borrowed cups, I make coffee. Michael comments “Snug. You might swing a cat in

here, but it would have to be a small cat.”

“It’s fine. I only use it for working and sleeping. The kitchens and bathrooms are shared.”

Music thumps through the floor, the base turned up too high, and from the kitchens above, chairs

scrape across the floor. “It’s a bit busy around here, isn’t it.” says my Master. “How about we go out

somewhere? A restaurant perhaps? That is, if you’ve not yet eaten, Charlotte….?.”

“No, I’ve not eaten. And yes, I’d love to go out with you both. It’s been so long. I know it’s only been a

few weeks, but it feels like forever.”

“And….” continues my Master… “If we’re not interrupting anything important.” He head-points my

books and notes, open on the desk. “We did choose Friday night, hoping you would be free?”

“Oh, no. That’s fine. I have until Wednesday to hand that work in.”

“You’re not going out anywhere with the other students?”

“No, I don’t really go out. I’m here to work.”

Michael purses his lips a little at that. My Master looks bland. He continues, “Good, and later…” he lifts

my hand, kissing the fingers…” A hotel room perhaps? We thought you might like to celebrate your

new home?”

“I’d love that, but, er…. but I don’t have anything really to wear for going out in. I only brought jeans and

tee-shirts and everyday sorts of clothes.”

“That’s alright.” says my Master. “We brought some of your other clothes along. They’re in the car. And

um, perhaps you should have a shower first? You smell of machine oil.”

I laugh. “Yes, at college today, they were showing us how to use a lathe and a milling machine.”

Michael snorts. “Is that what you’ll be expected to do when you’re working properly? In an actual job?”

“No, but you’re expected to have some idea of how a machine shop and a tool shop work, and that

means I come out smelling of machine oil….”

“James is right. You need a shower. Why don’t you get cleaned up and changed, and we’ll wait

upstairs? It’s a bit crowded in here….” He sees my hesitation. “Don’t worry. I’m sure James will keep

me out of Marie’s clutches.”

I laugh, realising how silly I’m being. “, I think she’s expecting her boyfriend, Pete, along this evening.”

“Another student?”

“Yes, he’s on the Aeronautical Engineering course.”

While my two Lovers wait upstairs in the kitchen, I shower and wash my hair, put on some make-up

and check out the clothes they have brought with them. A classic ‘little black dress’ and high heels, and

I feel ready to take on the world.

Teetering slightly - living in jeans and sneakers, I am out of practice at walking in heels - I go upstairs,

to find my Master and Michael chatting with some of my housemates. Kylie and Sandra are there;

Caroline too, and a couple of the boyfriends. Michael is drawing attention from the girls and my Master

looks amused. Pete is there, his back turned to me as he stirs something in a pan; Marie’s cooking is Belongs to NôvelDrama.Org - All rights reserved.

awful, and Pete usually cooks for both of them.

As I enter the kitchen, all eyes turn to me, and Pete glances around, then does a double-take as he

sees me. “Bloody Hell, Charlotte. I didn’t realise you had legs under your jeans, let alone legs like that.”

Then he realises what he has said, and blushes apologetically at Michael. “Um, sorry. didn’t mean…

Not used to seeing her like that. Usually, she’s just one of the boys….”

“Is that right?” grins Michael. “You’ve seen a side of her that I’ve missed then.”

*****

My Master has booked a room in a very expensive hotel. As we step into the lobby, all polished glass

and brass, expensively perfumed air washes over us. Light classical music whispers into the

background.

“Shall we eat in the restaurant?” asks Michael. “Or use room service and have it in privacy?”

“Oh, I think I’d like us to eat in our room,” I say. The chance of time alone with my Master and Michael

is not to be missed.

Michael smiles, his face sunny, then hooking one arm through mine, waves me towards the lifts with

the free hand. My Master joins us, then taps the button for the penthouse.

“Um…. isn’t this a bit expensive Master?”

He looks smug. “Director’s privileges. This is a Haswell hotel. The suite’s not occupied right now, so we

have it for the evening, the weekend if we want it.”

The suite is gorgeous, with thick, plush carpets, fresh flowers on the coffee table, and a vast window,

which overlooks the panoramic view, and leads to a terrace.

“Can you order the food please, Charlotte.” says my Master. “I’ll have steak, rare, with salad.”

Michael is inspecting the suite, checking out the bedrooms. “Same for me,” he calls, thumb pointing

one of the rooms. “This one I think.”

Peeking inside while I order the meals, I grin. “Looks good to me.”

Michael waggles his eyebrows at me. “I’ll get that jacuzzi filled, shall I?”

Half an hour later, pushing my plate away. “That was good. You can live on pizza, but sometimes a

proper meal is what you want.”

Michael looks up, his expression disapproving. “You’re not eating properly?”

“Well, it’s not easy there. There’s eight of us sharing the kitchen, plus boyfriends when they’re there,

and it’s difficult to cook anything complicated.”

Michael is unimpressed. He doesn’t like it when I say anything that suggests I am not living well. “It’s

not complicated to make a decent salad with a good mix of ingredients, or an omelette, or….”

“No, it isn’t, but there’s not a lot of space in the fridge for a good mix of ingredients.”

He’s not happy, and I change the subject, not very subtly, by worming my way into his arms. He knows

exactly what I’m doing, but, as I press myself against him, he can’t maintain his air of stern reprimand,

which melts into a smile. “Ah, Charlotte. You always win don’t you….”

And now, my Master is there, behind me. I kiss Michael, then turning, reach to kiss my Master. We all

three know where this is going, my Master, Michael and I, ready to make love together….

They take me by the hand, leading me to Michael’s chosen room….