#BABYMACHINE

by Cassandra Dee

  Would he do that?

  It didn’t make sense though. The CEO had tons of money, why would he want to sell them?

  But I didn’t know him anymore. In fact, I’d never known him, to be accurate. So anything was possible.

  And the thought of those incriminating photos on the world wide web made me curl over again, stomach heaving, sobs wracking my chest.

  I’d been betrayed in so many ways.

  Left for dead, with no recourse.

  I needed answers, but they’d never come. Not from Mason anyway. He was probably back at his apartment, drinking expensive whiskey with his pervert buddies.

  And the thought made me sick, enough to vomit right there onto the crackling leaves. Coughing and hacking, I gave it up, bile spewing from my mouth and spattering onto the forest floor. Nausea churned, green and vile, another deep heave making me crouch over in misery.

  Just as I spewed more filth, however, a man stepped out of the shadows. He was expensively dressed with slicked back hair, face in darkness. He didn’t look like a criminal, but then again, how would I know? I knew nothing, that much was clear.

  I lurched away by instinct, ready to run.

  “Hey Liz.” The voice was normal at least. The figure stepped closer, leaves crackling beneath his feet. “I’m Jonas.”

  What? Who was Liz? He had the wrong woman!

  Like a terrified doe, I backed away, spinning on my heel to make an escape. But it was too late. The strange man caught me right away, wiry arms trapping me close. He was strong despite a thin, reedy frame, and clutched me close, a musty, decaying smell rising off that frame. His hands crept over my skin, ghostly white in the darkness.

  “Let me go!” I struggled and twisted in his grasp.

  “Not until I’m done with you!” he rasped nastily. “You’re a slut. Spreading your legs for that overpaid CEO, holding your pussy open for him. How much did he pay you to fuck him? Hmm?” He shook me as my head bobbled crazily.

  What? How did he know about Mason and what we’d done? Fear lanced through my body. But the answer was clear. This must be one of Mason’s buddies. One of the guys he’d shown the pictures to. Or sold the pictures to, I had no idea.

  Oh god!

  I struggled harder against his tight hold, desperate to escape.

  “Help! Somebody help me!”

  But it was no use and my screams faded into silence. The strange man was demonically strong. With my wrists trapped behind my back, the man shoved me against a tree, cheek hitting the bark hard. One hand pawed my cunt while the other groped at my curves. Hurting me. Squeezing in ways I didn’t want.

  “I’m gonna stroke that pussy for myself,” he panted into my neck, breath hot and nasty. “I’m gonna feel those slutty folds for myself.”

  “Help!” I screamed again in desperation and fear, full-blown panic taking over then. “Help!”

  Suddenly, heavy footfalls sounded. Then a massive roar, and Mason burst from the trees, bolting into the open, expression a mask of rage, his teeth bared and savage.

  One minute the strange man was touching me all over, making me scream with fear. And the next, he was on the ground, crying and screaming as Mason beat him to a pulp. Literally, the thuds were dangerous and devastating. Thump! Thump! Thump! came the heavy blows, interspersed with the crack of bones breaking. Even in the dark, I could see blood spurting, black pools forming on the ground.

  “Stay! The Fuck! Away! From my girl!” Mason punched Jonas with each word, his breath harsh and savage in the circle of trees.

  “Stop it, Carlton! Stop it!” Jonas screamed. “You’re breaking the rules.” His loud cries echoed around us, and I shivered with fear even as relief coursed through my veins. “I didn’t see her pussy!” Jonas shrieked again like a ten year-old girl. “We’re supposed to share! It’s in the rules, it’s in the rules!”

  Mason got to his feet, panting and snarling, bloody fists clenched. “Maybe I shouldn’t be in this fucking club then.” He growled and turned to look at me, eyes wild. Then with one last kick, Jonas was silenced, curled in a fetal position on the ground. “I don’t care what the rules are, you’ll never see her sweet cunt. That belongs to me, and only me.”

  And with a rough pull on my elbow, the alpha dragged me out of the park, my frozen form tripping behind that massive male bulk. What was happening? I’d been assaulted, only to have Mason jump out of the trees and literally save me from rape, humiliation, and who knew what else. So where were we going now? Was I safe? Or was I only jumping from the frying pan into the fire? Confused thoughts swirled in my head … and suddenly everything went dark.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Beth

  “Baby, wake up.” Mason’s deep, powerful voice pulled me up from the darkness. “Let’s go home.”

  Where was I? What was going on?

  My eyes flickered open to see the big man looming above me, strong jaw cast in shadow. I squirmed and leaves crackled beneath my butt. Oh god. The park. That scary guy who tried to attack me. I gasped and looked around, frightened once again.

  But Mason was here now.

  “No worries honey. He’s gone. But we still have to get you out of here.” Slowly, I nodded, grabbing Mason’s big palm. And with a lurch, I was up, balancing shakily on my own two feet. The billionaire curved an arm around my waist, and I almost sobbed then. Because it felt so good, so warm and reassuring, but it shouldn’t have. He’d betrayed me, and here I was, melting into that maleness. Why was I so weak?

  But Mason had other things on his mind.

  “Come on, sweet thing,” he grabbed my arm urgently. “Git.”

  Okay, okay. I could do this.

  Taking a deep breath, I tumbled after Mason through the towering oaks, cold and afraid. Even with that muscular back leading the way, the night was still ominous, gray clouds trailing over the skies.

  Because who was that man? Who was Jonas? Were other threats coming as well?

  Terrified, my hand crept to my throbbing throat involuntarily. The skin stung where my attacker had squeezed, marks sure to show up tomorrow in mottled purple and red. And like an idiot, tears flowed hotly then, short, sharp, panted breaths escaping my lungs.

  Because what had happened?

  Who was that man?

  I was okay now, right?

  But I wasn’t safe. My attacker, Jonas, clearly knew Mason. So what was I doing, putting my life in the billionaire’s hands? My heart too?

  The tears flowed like a river as we ran through the park.

  Faster and faster, the ground churned by, even as my mind whirled.

  It’d just been dreams.

  My perfect existence had been nothing more than unicorns and rainbows, the fantasies of a stupid girl.

  And reality was a thousand times worse, ugly with jagged edges.

  God, why was this happening?

  Mason stopped then, taking my hand urgently.

  “Shh, baby, he won’t hurt you anymore. I promise.”

  But I jerked my hand away from his, eyes wild.

  “Don’t touch me!” was my shriek. “Don’t you ever touch me again!”

  I didn’t want anyone to brush up against my filth. After all, noxious fumes emanated from my form, bits of vomit in my hair. I was a disgusting and dirty girl who’d spread her legs for the world to see. I was nothing more than a cunt attached to a bag of skin.

  What had I done to deserve this?

  Why me?

  I thought our lovemaking had been amazing, Mason transporting us to another world. But instead, it’d just been a farce. What I believed was magical was actually slutty and whorish.

  He’d used my body, nothing more.

  I was just another sleazy whore, legs spread, pussy open as other men watched.

  And then the worst part came. The voice in my head whispered, devilishly insistent. But you got paid, didn’t you? it hissed. You got your money, just like you bargained for.

  The sobs came harder. Yes, I got paid by Mason t
hat first afternoon in his office. Three G’s. It was so much cash that I would have done anything back then.

  But I didn’t know it’d be like this! screamed my brain in protest. This wasn’t part of the bargain!

  And the tears just came harder as we resumed running. But the situation was overwhelming. Shame made me gag. And even while running, vomit rushed up in my throat, tasting like garbage. I dropped to my knees then and threw up in the dried leaves, heaving and crying, a slobbery mess.

  “Baby, don’t cry,” Mason growled, expression agonized. The big man tried to pull me to my feet but I jerked back, wiping my mouth with the back of my hand.

  Don’t cry. Easy for him to say when I was the one with my soul torn, life shattered into pieces.

  But there was nowhere to go but Mason’s apartment for the moment. The billionaire’s penthouse was right on the edge of the park, so with heavy feet, I stumbled behind him into the lobby, hunched down into my jacket.

  The doorman saw, but he didn’t ask. Highly paid professionals never inquire, and the man merely nodded, face impassive, greeting Mason with a courteous, “Good evening, sir.”

  And finally, we were in the apartment, elevator doors whooshing open to reveal the luxury within. But I couldn’t see it. I didn’t care, not anymore. Neither the expensive furnishings nor extraordinary view made a difference, not when I was hurting like this.

  My form dropped limply onto the couch, hunched over like a homeless person. Shivering, I pulled my bag against my stomach like it could protect me somehow.

  But it was too late for that.

  The damage was done.

  I was a fool, an utter fool.

  Mason’s deep growl interrupted my train of thought.

  “Here. For the cold.”

  A thick shearling jacket settled around my shoulders, the scent a mix of clean lambswool and virile male musk. I gripped it with desperate fingers, pulling the material tight. Because even now, the aroma soothed me, spicy and aromatic, filling my nostrils. Tears spurted in my eyes once more, unbidden. Why was this happening? Pain tore through my stomach like vicious claws.

  It’s just a jacket! Screamed my brain. Get over it!

  That’s right. The gesture didn’t mean a damn thing. Not love. Not even common decency.

  Mr. Carlton just felt sorry for me after that encounter with Jonas.

  Nothing more.

  I sniffled and squeezed my eyes shut before looking around the room. Memories of this place flooded my mind. Memories that were all lies now. Mason and I, rolling around on the couch. Me, head over heels, letting him touch where he wanted. Screaming even, as he made me a woman.

  But it was all lies.

  How many girls were there, just like me?

  Shrieking his name, only to be logged in the fuck book later?

  I gagged again, remembering all the entries I’d seen. They probably thought they were special too. But they weren’t. Just like I wasn’t.

  I was idiot to think somebody like Mason, a gorgeous billionaire with oodles of money, would be interested. Girls probably threw themselves at him every day, baring their boobies and offering their all.

  I was a dunce.

  A man like this would never be interested in a curvy girl. Not then. Not now. Not ever.

  Suddenly my reverie was interrupted.

  “Drink this, babe.” Mason’s big body loomed up above, arm outstretched with a glass of water. Then he sat, but the man had the sense to keep a few feet of space between us. Good. I wanted him wary. I wanted him to suffer, after what I’d been through.

  But it didn’t work because I’m not that kind of person. Staring at the glass, I only remembered the cozy, homey details. How he liked mint in his water. Preferred turkey in his ground meat at home and steak when he went out. Wanted the unscented dryer sheets instead of the flowery kind. But this was the stupid shit that got me in trouble to begin with. Because I knew all these meaningless details, but nothing real. It was just a bunch of trivia that created the impression of knowing someone.

  I sobbed even harder then, keening a bit, rocking back and forth on the couch. Snot slid down the back of my throat. Tears gushed down my face. Mason stared at my form, agonized.

  “Are you okay?” were his hoarse words. “Are you okay, sweetheart?”

  Did he really just ask me…?

  Are you fucking shitting me?

  I was just assaulted!

  He showed my naked pics to a dozen of his best buddies!

  And everything hit full throttle then.

  “Am I okay?!” I screamed the question back at him. “What do you think? Does it look to you like I’m okay? What kind of question is that?”

  My fingernails dug into the leather and shearling jacket. My whole world was being destroyed by a giant hurricane, and nothing would ever be the same again. I was in love with a man who didn’t love me back. And in fact, had never loved me.

  “Honey, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for any of it to happen like this.” His voice was an agonized rasp, like it was being torn from his throat. The billionaire stood up, then paced away, running those fingers through coal-black hair.

  “For it to happen like what?” I snapped. “Because now that I look back on things, it seems like you planned everything. You’re a slick guy, aren’t you?” My words gained strength and speed, becoming hurling fireballs. “Nothing ever just happens to the CEO. I don’t believe that for a second.”

  The man stood in front of me, hands in the pockets of his expensive pants, blue eyes bleak and dark with pain. Or was that fake pain? Was this all a set-up again?

  “Baby, please.” He took a step closer. “Let me explain.”

  But what was there to explain?

  It was clear how he felt. It was clear by his actions, by that fucking fuck book, by all the photos. But some things still weren’t clear, and it was better to rip the Band-Aid off in one go. So glaring like a hellcat, I pulled the jacket closer and snapped.

  “I found your notebook and the pictures,” were my icy words.

  Just saying it out loud made the tears roll once more. But I was gonna do it. I was gonna get some answers, even if it was like stabbing myself in the heart over and over again. “What were they for? Who did you show them to?”

  He was silent for a moment, looking down.

  “Tell me, Mason!” I demanded on a scream. “I want to know why!”

  That handsome face twisted with misery. Maybe he was sorry. Maybe he regretted it. But that was just a load of bullcrap. No one who does depraved shit like that is ever really sorry.

  Steeling myself, I stared hard at the big form. God, he was gorgeous. Tall and massive, blue eyes staring into my soul. And I hated myself even more, shame rising hot and fast in my chest once more.

  But this didn’t have to happen. Mason doesn’t control you anymore, the voice in my head whispered. Be yourself, Beth. Take charge.

  The billionaire pressed his lips together, still thinking. And then he lifted those blue eyes, a mass of swirling emotions in those crystal depths.

  “It was a contest,” he began, the words curdling on his lips like they were sour to taste. “Just a contest.”

  A contest? Scoring pictures of naked girls and rating them? Talking about them like they were pieces of meat to chew up and spit out, not even good enough to swallow? Was this some kind of depraved frat house? Or some animal farm, where the ladies were pigs raised for slaughter?

  But I kept my mouth shut, waiting for an explanation.

  “When I first got to the city and started making money, I wanted to belong,” he rumbled slowly. “I finally made the piles of cash that had haunted me since childhood. I was able to give my mother all the things she deserved, all the things she fought hard to give me as a kid. A roof over my head, nutritious food on the table. She worked like crazy after my father left so I didn’t have to drop out of school to support the family.”

  He sighed heavily, expression torn.

  “I had the
money. I had the boats, the apartments, even the planes. I had a job that practically did itself and you know what? It was fucking boring. So I got caught up with these guys,” he admitted. “They seemed like the shit at first. Rich as fuck, doing whatever they wanted. Drugs, cars, girls, all that at a snap of their fingers.”

  I stared at him. Really? Drugs, cars, girls? That’s what was important to Mason? Clearly, I didn’t know this guy at all, pain kicking me in the gut.

  But Mason was caught in his own reverie. Shoes scuffing against marble floors, the billionaire paced to the other side of the room, staring blindly at the bright lights of the city.

  “We’ve been doing this shit for a long time. Too long. And one of those things is the fuck book. It’s what it sounds like,” he said, swinging around to look at me, eyes blazing. “A log of girls we fuck and how good they are. If they were good, we shared them. Sometimes all twelve of us had a girl at the same time. Other times just one on one.”

  I gasped. Oh god, this was even worse than I anticipated. Twelve on one? Who … what …?

  Mason winced as the story continued.

  “So yeah, we were a bunch of depraved idiots. Using females. Logging it, then sharing them and comparing notes. It’s fucked-up, I know, and there’s no one who regrets it more than me.”

  I snorted then. It was an ugly sound, filled with disgust and contempt.

  Mason nodded, head bowed.

  “It’s bad, for sure. But believe it or not, the fuck book thing was getting boring. So we decided to shake it up a little,” he said, taking a deep breath, “and that meant virgins.”

  I stared at him, silence pounding.

  “What do you mean, virgins?” were my slow words.

  Mason shook his head slowly, eyes still regretful.

  “It was a different kind of challenge, something to switch things up. So yeah, we hatched this idea that for the next iteration of the fuck book, we were gonna find virgins to take. And then, you know ….” He shrugged helplessly again.

  But I wasn’t letting the big man off so easy.