Taming The Virgin CEO

Life is a beautiful long rollercoaster. You can either;

a)be the controller

b) be the passenger or

c) the standby.

Standbys are not necessarily my favourite bunch of people because they always have things pass them by. They are afraid to ride the rollercoaster and where is the fun in that? No where. The worst part is that they are most likely to complain but not take charge.

Then there are the passengers. They are not bad, the only problem is that they let life control them instead of doing the controlling. If they have a new route and it does not align with that of the rollercoaster, they give up on their route. No fighting chance, no complains, nothing. However, they do get the thrill and excitement just not my kind.

Now, there is one left; the controller. And that ladies and gentlemen is me, Candice Hunter, the controller of my own life. If there is no other way, I make it. I do not live up to societal boundaries and expectations, I live up to those I created. I break a lot of rules because whoever created them was being selfish. The ones, however, I created are amazing.

And one of my rules is that;

Sleep with a figure in your bed but wake up to an empty one. It seems as though guys nowadays can’t follow rules.

“Mike, get up!” I nudged the idiot still occupying my bed.

Instead of waking up, he decides to groan and wrap his arms around me to cuddle, Ew.

“Mike, get your hands off me now!” I hit his naked skin, getting the required reaction.

He groaned again, unwrapping his hands off me and stretched them like a princess in the shows I grew up watching.

“Why are you still here?” I asked once his eyes opened, the smile on his face falling instantly.

“Cause I had a good night. I assumed you would love to see me here when you wake up. Girls love it.”

“Firstly,” I pick the gown lying on the chair, next to the bed, “stop assuming. Secondly, yesterday we agreed that we are just screwing each other, no feelings attache-“

“Feelings are not attached Candice.” He straightened up in my bed.

“Then why are you still here? You were supposed to leave probably an hour after us engaging in coitus.”

“Don… do not say coitus.” He rubbed his nose, “look, I am still here. Can’t we just have another round in the bathroom or something? Besides I thought you liked me.”

He thought I liked him, hilarious.

See, that brings us to another rule of my life. When courting a guy, make him think you are absolutely crazy for him. Mike is a player, or so I thought, and has broken too many hearts but good thing is that he is drop dead gorgeous. And when I first saw him, I knew I had to get laid by him. But he has standards, I just had to play my game smoothly and here we are. With him resting in my palm, wanting to cuddle. I guess I might have played the game too well with him.

“Me? Like you?” Tears bursted out of my eyelids as I hit my leg, “please, you are not my type to like.” I shake my head, continuing to laugh regardless of the hurt expression on his face.

Playboy caught feelings, they always do when they meet me.

“But we had sex.”

“Mike darling,” I sit on the bed, holding his hand, “you are definitely my type to have sex with. But I could never like you, it… it is an impossible mission and I am no Tom Cruise. Now dress up and get the hell out.” I pat the same hand I am holding.

“You’re a slut you know that.” He gets out of the bed, putting on his clothes in frustration as I lean on the bathroom frame listening to the insults running out of his mouth, “I will be sure to tell the whole campus that you, Candice are an easy target to get into bed with.” He starts walking out.

“And I will be sure to tell the whole campus that your sex game is whack.”

He stops walking and turns around to look at me, “excuse me?”

“You heard me well, your sex game is whack. You collapsed after an hour… or was it thirty-minutes? And that is not all, you couldn’t even give me an orgasm.” I’m not lying, his sex game is whack, he should have left earlier so that he would not have to hear the criticism, “you only focused on satisfying yourself. After one round, you were tired. By the second one you were sloppy and I was already out of it. I had taken a thousand shots but getting in bed with you sobered me up quicker than pills.”

“Fu-“

“Oh keep the swearing and get the hell out, you are making me late.” I walked to the bathroom, only to hear the harsh slamming of my bedroom door and the front one.

Oops.

It’s sad to see that people still fail to understand me when I am an open basic English written book.

The only difference is that I am far from being one with the fairytale maidens. I posses power well enough to tame any guy I want.

The towel covering me up gets soaked as I wipe the droplets of water from the shower I just took. My eyes scan my reflection on the mirror but not before I put on my glasses lying on the counter.

Isn’t it funny that the ugly girls are always the ones wearing glasses? Those big ones covering half their faces. Low self-esteem is associated with having poor vision. That is pathetic because the girl in the mirror, is nothing close to ugly and low self-esteem.

Instead she was the baddest hottest girl on campus. I got awarded Miss Edenvale University on my first year of study. And let’s not forget I had my high school on both my feet.

The trick was having the perfect sized glasses, a gym card, good diet and self love sessions. Nothing can beat that.

I moisturise my body, tie my hair in an up-do and put on light makeup with a bold red matte lipstick before putting on my white jumpsuit with my amazing red stiletto heels. The final trick, my play girl perfume.

“Dang, you look great.” Rebecca, my flat-mate , compliments once I walk into the kitchen.

“Thank you, I have to say that you look spectacular too. But those heels are not working.”

“I know! The ones I had planned to wear let me down. Our witch neighbour’s cat chewed on them.”

“I told you to not open the window when you aren’t in the room.” I walk back to my room to pick out my favourite green heels to act as substitute. “Here you go.”

“No, I am not wearing those! You’ve never worn them and I’m not exaggerating cause you refused to even fit them.”

True, some things are meant for special… very special occasions and there has not been one where I saw fit to wear the heels. It’s been two-years I’ve had them.

“I know that but, they are going to go great with your outfit. It’s our graduation day after all! Come on, try them.” I push the pair closer to her and finally she nods her head.

Once they slip into her feet, a tear rolls down my eye… they look perfect.

“Are you crying because of heels?” Rebecca shakes her head while walking around the room, “they are comfortable.”

“I know right, they are now yours.”

“What? No ways! I love love love you!” She throws her entire body on me.

Heels are my favourite things to buy. I would use my last penny to buy them… almost every bit of my bursary money was spent on them. Now my salary is about to be.

“Now, who was the guy that slammed doors? He is the second one this month.”

“That’s just Mike.” I stand next to the coffee maker, cup already in my hands.

“Please don’t tell me Mike Rosardy?”

“Yes, him.”

“Wow.” Rebecca’s mouth grows wide, “so, you finally got him.”

“Yep.”

“And?”

“He is… he is not bad.”

“Dang, that means his bad.” She took a sip of her coffee as I poured mine in my cup.

“Not necessarily, he is just not as good as people make him.” I shrug my shoulders.

“Too bad the one that was thee best performer stole our wine.” Rebecca bursts out laughing, making me laugh with the coffee in my mouth.

Tom was a great performer, he just didn’t like being told to leave my bed. After slamming my bedroom door, like someone today, he rummaged through our cupboards and when he saw the expensive $50 wine, he stole it.

“The day I see him, I’m going to make him pay for everything.”

“Include the cost of us accusing Mrs Charlie next door.”

“I still don’t understand why she has a male name.”

“It’s probably that her parents saw that she had actions of most males embodied in her, brutality.”

“True. Well, we should’ve made shots instead of coffee.”

Rebecca hits her forehead in agreement, “bottoms up!”

We both raise of cups and take a hot sip, “that was not a good idea!”

The two of us laugh as we grab our graduation gowns, hats and purses, “I’m so proud of us.”

“Me too! Let’s go conquer the world!”

“Aye aye.” I hug her back before locking the door.

A new chapter of my life is about to be opened, am I excited? Heck yes! I’m a graduate and have a job bagged already, things are looking great.