Naya's Journey

Chapter 1

Naya looked in the mirror and saw the accusing face of her roommate. It hadn't been the first time she'd seen Rebecca give her that look. The phenomenon had been intensifying all week.

"You shouldn't go, Naya. Look, I know you think this is the 'adventurous' thing to do. But this is shady, and if I may say, more than a little creepy. I mean, what do you really know about this guy?"

Damian Cruceaux. The man who'd placed the online ad seemed as mysterious as his picture suggested. Naya glanced at her smartphone. The face staring back at her seemed cynical, the eyes hard, almost cold, as if they'd seen too much. He was at least a decade her senior, but his lean face had somehow retained the charm of a much younger man. Damian's eyes were smoky grey. His figure was compact, and even under the dark purple dress shirt, muscles rippled.

She flipped on her phone to the original ad, staring at the words one more time:

"Wanted: a beautiful college age female. Adventurous, open to possibilities, and above all - SUBMISSIVE. Spend one evening with Damian Cruceaux, billionaire entrepreneur. Do whatever he asks, when he asks. Be his for an evening and, if you play your cards right, Damian might just keep you for a while. Offering: $2 million the first night. Price negotiable after that. Do you dare?"

Naya stood about 5'5. Some might have called her petite from a distance, but she had noticeable curves and a body that screamed feminine beauty. She glanced in the mirror one last time, adjusting her skintight, shimmery, and strapless black dress. It matched the glossy, charcoal-black hair that hung in wavy lushness a good few inches past her shoulders. Lithe and athletic, Naya had been a shoo-in for the track team at Triton University. She was also a senior studying engineering.

The roommate behind her was like a softer version of Naya. Rebecca's short, curly hair and mischievous eyes were always looking for the next prank to play. But now they were unusually serious, and had been ever since she'd discovered that Naya had responded to that outrageous online advertisement.

It was insane. Absolutely insane. Naya secretly agreed with her friends' assessment. She was on the pill, just like the disclaimer in the ad required, so it wasn't like she was going to get pregnant. But a lot of other things could happen. It wasn't exactly safe.

"Why, Naya? Just tell me why? We're going to graduate in a few more months. Is this, like, some last stupid stunt you think you need to do before you become a responsible adult? Because I promise you, there are less stupid ways to do something impulsive and fun. You don't know WHO this guy is, Naya. He could be a serial killer for all you know!"

Naya wanted to tell her the truth. That engineering was what her parents had always wanted her to do. That this had been THEIR dream, not hers. Now that she was so close to achieving it, she didn't feel elated or even encouraged...she felt empty. Doing something thrill-seeking like this - it actually made her feel alive. She didn't want to think about the future, at least not for the time being. Running across the online ad in an obscure forum had seemed like a cosmic sign to Naya. 'Crazy or not, I'm going to do this,' Naya decided. She was going to have what she hoped might be the night of her life, come what may.

Chapter 2

The evening began as Naya had hoped. Just on time, 8PM, and the moon already hanging in the sky like a giant pale Frisbee, the sleek, black limousine pulled up to the curb near her dormitory. Rebecca - ever stubborn - stood by the curb with her, wearing a much less dressy jeans and a tank top. She gave her friend a goodbye hug.

"Naya Santos, you take care of yourself! Hear me? If anything, and I mean ANYTHING, happens - you call me. Or 9-1-1. Understand?" Naya looked into her friend's concerned eyes, fiery with that need to protect. She loved her roommate. This was her best friend, and she was touched how worried Rebecca was for her.

"Becky, you know I'm not stupid. I promise to be careful. Love you, girl. Now go have a relaxing night without me. Call that boyfriend you've been pining for the last few days," she said with a grin, dodging out of the way as Rebecca tried to give her a punch in the shoulder.

An impeccably dressed driver opened the door for Naya, and the college student got in before Rebecca could seek further retribution. She waved at her friend as the driver got back in, started up the engine, and drove them away. Suddenly Naya felt herself perched on pins and needles. A light rain began to fall, making the asphalt and buildings glisten with a quality Naya liked. It reminded her of magic. 'Wow, what a corny thought. Don't let your jitters make you say something stupid tonight,' Naya reminded herself.

Would the dream she'd harbored for a magical evening tonight go as she hoped, even if she did her best? Would her best be even close to good enough for a man like Damian Cruceaux? Naya decided to ease the tension by making small talk.

"Hi. I'm Naya. Where are we going?" she asked the driver. She had caught the name 'Pierre' on his nametag. The hulking black man had a shaved head and looked like he could've played in the National Football League with no difficulty. But he didn't even respond to Naya, just rolled up the partition window and turned on some pleasant jazz music that would've drowned out any further attempts at communicating.

Naya frowned. The first tiny bit of 'I told you so' crept into her head, doing a remarkable rendition of Rebecca's voice. As the minutes ticked by, still totally unaware of where they might be headed, Naya's anxiety morphed into something else. It took on undertones of outright fear. Nearly 45 minutes passed before Naya was ready to bang on the partition and demand that 'Pierre' stop the vehicle and tell her where the hell he was taking her. Instead she finally saw a large warehouse with a bay sliding open, and the limousine eased out of the rain, pulling to stop in a wide warehouse floor flooded with light.

The door opened carefully, and Pierre gave her a polite nod. "Forgive the length of the trip, my lady. Master's orders were to not speak to you until we arrived." The sudden warmth in the man's eyes did a lot to resettle Naya's nerves, but not completely. She slowly stepped out, turned around, and gasped at what she saw.

There were rows of beautiful young women. Many of them wore skimpy dresses, others wore pieces of greater elegance. They all looked college age, though some of them, judging by the ornateness of the gowns and heaviness of the makeup, were trying very hard to look more mature than their years.

Naya quietly let Pierre guide her over to join the line of expectant girls. She stood beside a blond girl in a bright red dress which had a single strap that wound behind and looped around the neck, revealing two creamy shoulders and plenty of cleavage. 'Oops. I didn't know this would be a competition,' Naya thought. She was beginning to feel uncomfortable.

A redhead on Naya's other side was wearing a sparkly green tank top and black slacks embroidered with rows of bright beads. She turned with a critical look in her emerald eyes. "A skank is still a skank, no matter how fine the dress," she said, looking Naya up and down like she was a damaged part on an assembly line. Naya opened her mouth, shocked at the woman's rudeness.

"Don't worry about her, honey. You know what they say about redheads...and this one's got the personality of a bull dog...which I'm sure Mr. Cruceaux will find sooo attractive," The blond woman in the red dress interjected, taking Naya by the wrist and turning her in the other direction.

"Thanks for the save," Naya said. "I didn't know quite how to respond to that." She finally took in the details of the blond woman's face. Her pretty blue eyes were wide and innocent now, but moments before they'd been feisty and sharp.

"I'm Claire." She held out her hand. Naya took it, gave it a gentle shake.

"I'm Naya. Pleased to meet you, Claire. That dress looks...stunning on you." Claire looked down at her own cleavage. Below the trim of the dress a ribbon of flowers flared across her torso, just highlighting her well-endowed chest that much more. Claire gave Naya a rueful smile.

"Yeah, I know it IS a little over the top. Even though I don't fit the dumb blond stereotype, sometimes I like to play appearances and see how much people assume. You can learn a lot about people by what they do or don't ASSUME," she finished with a grin.

"What's it made out of?" Naya said, unconsciously rubbing the fabric between her fingers. Too late she realized that maybe she was being too familiar with Claire and just a bit presumptuous, but the blond girl smiled and seemed to enjoy Naya's honest interest.

"It's satin. But more importantly, what are YOU wearing?" Naya blushed as Claire ran her elegant fingers along the silk trim of her gorgeous black dress. "Damn, woman. This hugs your figure like the gown of a goddess. I'm actually jealous. I may get points for flashiness, but you've got a lot more taste," she said with a sigh.

Naya instinctively liked Claire. She felt this palpable, immediate connection, and gave her hand a squeeze. "Do you know what's going to happen next?" Naya asked "Have you ever done something like this before?"

Claire shrugged, and the anxiety behind her eyes said as much; they were both in the same boat.

"Your guess is as good as mine. I guess he plans to weed out all but one?"

A shiver ran up Naya's spine. She remembered that the online ad hadn't said anything about there just being ONE chosen girl. What if Damian Cruceaux liked to have more than one woman in his bed? What if this mysterious billionaire wanted Naya to do things that she didn't want to do? "Do whatever he asks, when he asks." The full meaning of that hadn't started to really hit home until now.

'I've made a few assumptions about what was going on tonight What if it blows up in my face?' Naya thought. She squeezed Claire's hand impulsively. "We look sexy as hell, right?"

Claire squeezed back. "Damn right we do."

The two stood hand in hand, talking to one another, trying to keep each other's spirits up and distracted while more girls were dropped off for the strangest competition Naya had ever witnessed. Pretty soon there were at least 100 young women in the warehouse. The constant pattering on the metal roofing jostled against the hushed conversations of the young women impatiently waiting. When a black limo zoomed through the bay doors, screeching to a halt, pennants fluttering with the corporate logo of Cruceaux Industries unmistakable, the whole place fell silent except for the tip-tapping above.

Two impeccably dressed men, tuxedos firmly pressed, opened the door for a steely-eyed gentleman who had to be - without any doubt - one Damian Cruceaux. Wearing a tuxedo himself, its bright silver vest contrasting sharply against his two assistant's plain white ones, Damian Cruceaux strode up to the line of young women as if he had a right to each and every one of them. But as he walked slowly down the aisle of gorgeous faces and fancifully breathtaking gowns, his eyes seemed much less concerned about the physical endowments of the women he surveyed than about other qualities.

As Naya leaned forward, peering at the billionaire's gait, he noticed that the man seemed to gloss over cleavage almost dismissively. He seemed to look penetratingly into the eyes of each girl he passed. He seemed to measure her whole posture rather than the garments she wrapped or hid herself in, Naya realized. And soon, her heartbeats beginning to thunder, Naya realized that Damian's sweep was about to reach her. She instinctively squeezed Claire's hand again as anxiety wrenched at her heart. She realized her huge blunder, her body tensing in fear.

Claire had to want to look her sexy best in front of Cruceaux, and now she had a girl she'd barely met squeezing her hand tightly like a frightened little sister. Naya was mortified. But it was too late to disengage. Damian had already swept down the aisle to survey them, and his eyes had already taken keen note of their joined hands.

What was Claire thinking? Naya imagined that the blond woman was furious with her. She had ruined the night for both of them.

But instead Claire remained still, didn't disengage the hand - and Cruceaux looked intently at the blond woman first, and then his piercing gaze set its sights on Naya. He seemed to linger on her glossy, midnight hair and the dark chocolate pools of her eyes. His eyes gently caressed the slimness of her shoulders before looking her up and down again for good measure. He settled on her face, and Naya tried to meet his gaze. After a few seconds, she couldn't.

Her heart began to sink as he began to turn away. But instead these words came out of Damian's mouth as he spoke to his two assistants.

"Please escort these two lovely ladies to the limo. I'll be with them shortly."

Naya exchanged a quick glance with Claire, saw the triumph in her new friend's eyes. They had done it. They had passed the first test. Claire leaned over, risking a whisper before following Damian's assistants.

"Let the night begin."

Chapter 3

Naya fiercely suppressed the urge to fidget as Damian slipped into the car and sat on the leather cushions opposite them. He gave them both an appraising glance that was less harsh and penetrating than the one he'd used on the factory floor just minutes earlier. The five o'clock shadow on his jaw gave him a rugged, dangerous look, complimented well by ash-grey eyes that missed nothing.

"I don't think I caught your names," he said mildly as the bay doors slid open and the limousine lurched into the night.

"I'm Naya."

Claire dared a more direct gaze than Naya could muster. "Claire."

"A pleasure to meet you both. I want you to know, that no matter how tonight transpires, you two are quite special. I wouldn't have asked you to come if I thought otherwise."

The girls shared an uneasy look. Naya smiled nervously. "That might be the most interesting way I've ever been complimented." She found herself loosening up a bit despite the strange way Damian talked. He had an accent she couldn't quite place, and the challenge of figuring it out tormented her, but it also put her in an oddly playful mood.

"Do you say that to all your beautiful mistresses?" Naya continued boldly. Claire gave her a sidelong look filled with warning.

Damian Cruceaux chuckled. "Ah. You are a rare gem, Naya. I thought I saw a hidden fire in you. In answer to your question, no...not at all. I do not give out compliments freely. You will learn that soon enough."

The rest of the ride went smoothly, with Damian gently asking a trivial question here and there. Many of the women's own questions were answered obliquely, with a deft skill at revealing only what he desired. Naya marveled at how he deflected even the most harmless questions - about his business, his travels, his past careers.

At last, with the wind picking up and the rain pelting harder against the windshield glass, the limousine pulled up to a posh Greek-Italian restaurant. The awning read "Agiani's" and the tables behind the glass windows revealed luxuriant tablecloths and crystal ware which would've looked suitable in most multimillion dollar mansions.

It was Pierre who opened the door, but Naya flushed when Damian took her hand, guiding her out onto the sidewalk as Pierre snapped open his umbrella. When Claire moved to follow, Pierre softly put up his hand.

"Forgive me, my lady. You have other plans for the night. I see the disappointment on your face, but do not judge the evening until it's over. I would not have brought you this far only to abandon you." The huge, muscle-bound black man sounded almost gallant, and his eyes twinkled at Claire in a way that sent blood rushing to her cheeks. Even Naya could see that.

Pierre closed the door on Claire, proceeded to escort them to the restaurant entrance and gave his employer a brisk nod before retreating into the rain-washed night.

Soon Naya's heart was beating like a machinegun firing desperately at an invading army. She was sitting across from Damian Cruceaux. Of the 100 or so ladies who had tried to be his this night, he had picked HER. Naya spread her hands on either side of her, a streak of self-conscious awareness surfacing with a vengeance. She was aware of the ruby pendant at her throat, which was supposed to contrast nicely with the shimmering black in the dress. She had been going for a decadent look, and judging from the way Damian's eyes clung to her figure and rested on her face, she had succeeded.

"You are a mesmerizing woman, Naya. Now that we've passed through some of the pleasantries and gotten to know each other a little, my hope is that this dinner can be somewhat more...intimate. Do you know why you're here?"

'To share a bed with a billionaire stranger, enjoying a night of passion and excess without regrets?' she thought. That might have been the impulse that made Naya respond to Damian's ad in the first place, but it didn't sound so impressive now. In fact, it made her seem downright shallow. She gripped the table edge, almost ashamed that she had no direct answer.

"You're wrong, you know."

"What?" She was taken off guard. His eyes seemed to sparkle, as if he enjoyed this a little, but his face remained deadly serious.

"You're not here for a night of wining and dining and sex. You're not a girl with a one-dimensional personality. You're a young woman looking for something more out of life. More than what society says you can be. Tell me I'm wrong."

Naya let the silence engulf the table between them before she could gather her nerve. She finally found her more playful alter-ego, the one she seemed able to grab onto the more she focused on the richness in Damian's voice.

"I didn't know mind-reading was one of your talents."

"You didn't say I was wrong," he replied, his gaze sharpening.

"Because you know you're right. You ARE right," she replied, finally meeting his gaze. "I...too often, I've let others choose my dreams for me. Tonight was supposed to be about something else. I wanted to believe, just for one night, that Prince Charming existed, perhaps even a Dark Prince Charming. In a few months I'll have my engineering degree. Probably a few months after that I'll have financial independence. But that's not happiness. It feels empty to me. I see my friends become absorbed in their own little worlds, obsessing on careers and leaving everyone else behind. That's not what I want to be. That's not who I am."

"And then why me, Naya? Why take the extraordinary risk of acceding to my whims and spending the night with a man you don't even know?"

Naya took a gulp of air, feeling sweat pool on the slope between her breasts. She was saved by the waiter, who whisked by to take their order. After Damian ordered a glass of red wine for them both, the waiter vanished and the hawk-faced billionaire refocused that unsettling gaze on the beautiful feminine object of his intent.

Naya tried to just be honest. "Because you have power, because you clearly don't care what people think. I admired your honesty when I first read the posting. I admired your bluntness, the world-be-damned philosophy I sensed behind the words in your ad." Naya couldn't believe she was saying this. She sounded like another person, but it was true. This wasn't who she was when she was talking with her friends at church or with her parents.

"And? So far, have you come to any conclusions?" As he said it, he had the temerity to reach and gently rub his right hand over her left. She felt the immediate surge of warmth from his palm, and it made her arm tingle.