One Night Stand With The Billionaire

Tessa's POV

I'm going to do it. I'm going to find a stranger to lose my virginity with.

As I sit at the bar and scout out who the lucky winner is going to be, I find myself wondering how exactly I ended up in this situation.

Three hours ago, I was in what I assumed was a perfect and healthy six month relationship. Until I walked in on him mounting his secretary. The same secretary that he spent late hours with to go over some unfinished "work".

It's a fucking good thing that I didn't yield to his pestering and give him my virginity. I almost laugh at that thought -because here I was about to give said virginity to a stranger. But atleast that stranger didn't lie to my face for months.

The sad thing is that I didn't even confront him, I just walked away while his pasty white ass was clenching and unclenching as he thrust into her. Then I had to suffer through the pitying look I got from the receptionist and his employees. It seems like everyone knew about their affair except me. How pathetic is that?

After going through all the stages of grief and rage in our shared apartment, I don on a sexy red gown and marched into the nearer available club, ready to throw away the one thing that I have clenched tightly onto. 

What was the use of keeping my virginity when the next guy I date could end up being worst than this asshole? Atleast, I wouldn't have given them something I consider precious to me. 

This is the best way out -find a handsome stranger, go to a hotel and get it over with.

I keep looking over at the men in the room over the rim of my glass and feel doubt crawling into my mind. I'm not feeling anything towards any of the men I catch over my glass. 

I'm not naive enough to believe that I'm going to find a stranger that leaves me hot and bothered but I atleast want to feel a somewhat attraction with the person that I'm going to be sleeping with.

By this time, my stomach is churning and the alcohol isn't sitting right in my system. I actually feel like I'm about to be sick. I'm just about to convince myself that this might just be a wrong idea when a presence appears beside me and falls into the seat by my side. 

I turn around, ready to let this person know that I'm not interested, like I've done with the few others that have tried to approach me. Who am I fooling? There's no way that I'm going to bring myself to sleep with someone that I don't feel even a slight connection with.

Whatever word I was about to spew gets stuck in my throat and forces its way back down when I get a glance at...him. Holy shit! This man is gorgeous.

"Hey." He gives me a smile that shows his teeth and I blink. "Can I get you your next drink?"

Next drink? I could hear his words saying but there weren't exactly registering in my head because I was currently eyefucking him and wondering how it will feel to be beneath him. 

He arches a brows at me in question. "Am I intruding? I didn't see you with anyone and you looked like you needed some company." His expression turns to worry. "Maybe it would be better if I left." He makes a move to stand up from his seat.

That finally snaps out of whatever trance his smile put me in. "No!" I rush out and wince at the octave of my voice. My face heats up and I internally pray that the dim light in the room is hiding my red cheeks. "You aren't intruding and you can definitely get me my next drink." I give myself a pat on the back when my next sentence comes out sounding less deranged.

He smiles that fucking smile again and settles back into his seat. "That's good to know." He leans into my space and I know it's so that I can hear him better over the pounding music but tell that to my heart that's going at the same beat with the music. "What will you be having?" He asks, his breath fanning my ear before he moves back. 

My breath comes out in short pants. "I'll have a Virgin Mary." The irony isn't lost on me.

The side of his lips tip up. He raises a hand to grab the attention of the bartender and drops my order.

He turns sideways in his seat, his body facing me. "So, why are you all by yourself on a Friday night?" He drags a hot gaze over my body before meeting my eyes again. The heated look I find in his eyes actually makes me gulp. "I would imagine that someone as beautiful as you would have a guy glued to her ass."

My cheeks tint pink at his compliment and at the look in his eyes. "There's no guy," I admit. 

"That's good to know," he draws out and open his mouth to say something but is cut off when the bartender drops my drink on the table and leaves.

"I seem to have forgotten my manners. May I have a name?"

"Tessa," I breath out and nearly pass out when he repeats my name like he's testing it out on his tongue to see if it's to his liking. I'm suddenly imagining him saying my name as his guides me through a toe-curling org-

"I'm Damien," he supplies, startling me out of my pervertic imagines. 

How does one go from being a virgin to this sex starved and depraved woman that I'm becoming? And is there a cure?