by Zoey Parker
“Don’t talk to me that way.” His voice would have scared me enough if I had heard it in a well-lit room. He sounded almost murderously angry, barely keeping his emotions in check. “Nobody talks to me that way.”
“Sorry to burst your bubble, but you don’t get to call me a whore. Not when you know damned well why I did this. I’m sorry if it hurts your pride, I really am, but I have to get the money and get back home to my mother.”
“No, you just have to get your money and forget how you went slumming. Get the hell out, then.”
“I will. Not like I want to be here. Not like any woman would want to be in this fucking pigsty of a house. Why don’t you try having a little personal pride?”
“From the woman who sold her virginity tonight.”
I was holding my shoes in my hand, and it took every ounce of self-control not to hurl one of them at his head. “From the man who bought it. Classy.” I turned away, tears burning in my eyes and throat. I had to get away before I started crying. He would know he won if I started to cry in front of him. I couldn’t let him see how he got to me.
I went downstairs, and he didn’t follow. I was relieved. I pulled out my phone to call a cab, then sat outside until it came. No way I was going to wait inside the house. I would have rather frozen to death out front.
Well, that was the end of that. I’d been insane to think he was anything other than a user, an opportunist. I would never, ever see him again.
Chapter Ten
I could have killed him for being so crass and nasty. What right did he have to make fun of me? He was the leader of a biker club, for God’s sake, and he’d been in prison. I knew he had. He wasn’t fooling me with the “I was away for a while” story. I still didn’t know what he had done, but considering the way bikers weren’t known for being good citizens I could only imagine. I hoped it wasn’t anything like murder.
And he was the one who bought me! That was the worst part, that he had the nerve to make fun when he was the idiot who bid thirty grand. What a double standard. But weren’t men full of double standards? They could run around acting like sluts, sleeping with anything they saw, but let a woman do it and she was lower than low. It never failed.
He made me feel like a whore. That was the worst part. That was what really got under my skin and made me want to claw his eyes out. He had given me an experience I couldn’t have imagined in my wildest, dirtiest fantasies…then made me feel like a whore for wanting the money that had led to it.
Okay. Maybe that did make me a whore. But he knew why! It wasn’t for drugs, or a shopping addiction. I was trying to make my mom’s last days as good as I could. Where was the crime in that?
I should have known he was just as he appeared on the surface. Arrogant, heartless, callous. I was ashamed of myself for ever having slept with him. Of course, the fact that it was my first time made it even worse. I wanted to take a scalding hot shower.
First, however, I needed to get my money.
The cab dropped me off in front of the warehouse. I asked the driver to stay—I didn’t love the idea of waiting here for another one, no matter who was still inside. Now that the area was mostly deserted it was beyond creepy. The high-end sports cars parked there earlier in the night had made it a little more inviting.
There were no cars there now. Nothing at all, in fact. The little grate at the top of the metal door was dark. When I’d arrived earlier in the evening, there had been a warm light glowing from inside the building.
I knocked on the door, looking around for a buzzer but coming up empty. I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering despite my heavy coat. I didn’t like the feel of any of this. I knocked again, harder this time.
“You okay, miss? I mean, it doesn’t look like there’s anybody there. It doesn’t look like there’s ever anybody there.”
I shot him what I hoped was a reassuring smile and knocked for a third time, feeling like the world’s biggest fool. How could there be nobody here? Why the hell hadn’t I found out exactly what it was I’d needed to do when the deed was finished? Damn it!
I saw a random man hanging out just past the building, near an alley between the warehouse in question and another one beside it. “Hi, sorry to bother you,” I said, hating myself for walking up to a total stranger but seeing no other way out of the mess I was in. “Do you know if the people who work in here are still here? I was with them earlier tonight, at an event inside. I had expected them to still be here.”
He looked at me like I had two heads, and I knew I wouldn’t have otherwise spoken to him. He made Eric look like a priest. “Uh, no.” He looked around, scratching his arms. “I ain’t seen nobody. You better go now.” He looked terrified, like he thought I was setting him up for something or trying to get him in trouble. I hurried away without another word.
Tears burned in my eyes, threatening to spill over. I wanted to scream, cry, rage against something or somebody. I wanted them to feel as terrible as I did. I wanted them to hurt and feel like a whore, the way I did. I hated myself for letting myself be tricked. That had to be the answer. I had been tricked into sleeping with Eric, and I had nothing to show for it. Mom would live out the rest of her days knowing she was leaving a terrible burden behind for me, and there was no way for me to make her more comfortable and see that she got better care. I was a loser, a naïve simpleton for believing it was all going to be so easy. Nothing in life was that easy. Hadn’t I learned all about that by now?
I stood with my back to the warehouse door, my head in my hands. I had never known self-hatred as strong as what I was feeling in that moment. I was so ashamed. I’d given my virginity to a heartless bastard, and for nothing.
How could they do this? I realized I had no idea who “they” were. I couldn’t even track them down to give them a piece of my mind if I wanted to. They could get away with it. I wondered if the other girls had done their research, or if they had jumped at the chance the way I had. They had to be as desperate as I was if they were willing to auction themselves. Besides, it wasn’t like the event had a website, I was sure. It was underground. Secrecy was the whole point.
So I never should have done it in the first place. Especially not with somebody like Eric. What was wrong with me? Had I burned out so entirely that I couldn’t think straight anymore?
I had to go home and curl up in bed after a long shower. I had to get the feel of his touch off me. Maybe Mac would stay with me and talk with me, help me understand the way I was feeling. I needed a friend then more than ever.
My hand was just on the handle to the cab’s back door when headlights bathed me in glowing light. I put my hand to my eyes, shading them from the glow. Oh, terrific, I thought. This jerk.
“What are you doing?” Eric climbed from his car, tension visible throughout his body.
“I told you! I need my money!” The cab forgotten, I turned to face him.
“And you thought you would get it here? I didn’t think you were serious. Christ.” He shook his head.
“What are you talking about?”
“What do you think? Nobody’s here, are they?”
“No.” I looked at the ground, wrapping my arms around myself again. I felt very small, and very stupid, and I needed to protect myself.
“Did you think we all forked the cash over at once? And they would hold money like that, here? What if somebody found out about it? They’d rob the joint, right? That makes no sense.” He sighed in frustration, his breath making a huge billowing cloud in the air.
“So what, then? What do I do?”
“They didn’t tell you?” He smiled softly.
“No! Of course not. Jesus. Why would I come all the way down here if they had? For my health? Because it’s so damned beautiful here?” I was screaming, ranting, pouring out all the hurt he had thrown upon me when he made fun of me. Now I really understood why he had—I’d been acting like a fool. I hated it, too, hated that he looked at me the way he did. I wasn’t a fool. I was a smart person.
I was thinking with my heart and not my head, though. That was my downfall.
“Calm down.” His voice was flat, dangerous. “I don’t like being screamed at.”
“Like a give a shit,” I spat fiercely. “Don’t tell me how to talk to you. You don’t deserve that kind of respect.”
His eyes widened like I’d hit him. “I’m the person with your money. And I think that gives me the upper hand. Wouldn’t you agree?”
I fought the tears that still threatened to flow. He was right, the creep. He had the power. I was just a girl, something to screw. I needed him. Not the other way around.
“Whatever. Do you have the money, or don’t you? I want to go home.” I was exhausted, emotionally spent. I had no idea what time it was. It could have been three in the morning, and probably was, considering how much time Eric and I had spent in bed together.
He smirked, and my heart sank. I knew that smirk even after only knowing him a handful of hours. “Yeah, I have it. I told you I did.”
“So where is it?”
“You don’t get it yet.”
My jaw nearly hit the ground. “What?” I wished I had something to hit him with. My fists certainly wouldn’t have done the trick. A crowbar, maybe.
“You don’t get the money until I’m fully satisfied with you. And I’m not remotely done yet.”
Even as bile rose in my throat and I wished I could beat him to death, a shiver ran down my spine. What else did he have in store? The look on his face and the tone of his voice barely masked so much promise. I could only imagine what other pleasure he had in mind.
No! I couldn’t give in like that. He was trying to turn me on, silence me, make me into some quivering sex slave. I wouldn’t do it. I stiffened my resolve.
“How dare you. What are you, some kind of sex maniac?” I lowered my voice, glancing back at the cab driver. I was sure he would have plenty to tell his wife when he got home from work. “I already spent the night with you. That’s it. You took what you paid for.” I glared daggers at him.
“Yeah, and that was good. But I’m not satisfied. I mean, thirty grand for virginity? That’s a little steep, wouldn’t you say?”
I didn’t reply. I was too busy being furious at him for tricking me, and at me for being tricked. I never asked him exactly what the money entailed; then again, he could have said one thing then and changed his month later on anyway. I had no power in the situation. He was in charge, and loving it.
“So,” he said, smiling, “I think that means you have to come back with me.”
“No way. To that pigsty?” I tilted my head to the side. “Do you really think I’m that low?”
“No, but I think you’re that desperate.” Again, his voice changed to that cold, commanding tone I heard earlier. Again I shuddered at the sound of it. It was the voice of a man who could do anything he wanted. There was nothing I could do to stop him.
All right. I couldn’t stop him, then. I accepted that. What I could do was make things as difficult for him as possible. Two could play at this game.
“Fine,” I said, turning abruptly to the cab driver and handing him my fare. It had climbed quite a bit from when I first got out of the cab, of course, and I gritted my teeth at having to hand over so much money. But I didn’t let Eric see how frustrated I was. I flashed him a wry smile.
“Let’s get it over with, then.” I walked around to the passenger side of the car, tapping my foot.
“What are you waiting for?”
“For you to open the door for me. You don’t get to treat me like a whore.”
To my surprise, he laughed. “Fair enough.” He came around to where I stood, moving very close to me. Instead of reaching for the handle, though, he reached for my body. He pushed me up against the passenger door, a knee between my legs. I felt his erection press against me, and I fought him but he held me still.
One of his hands left my hips, where he’d grabbed me, and grasped the back of my neck. I squirmed, turning my head to the side, wondering if he intended to screw me right there in the open. He would probably defend himself by saying he was only taking what he paid for. I wouldn’t make it that easy for him. I fought and grunted and wriggled, but nothing worked. It only aroused him more, in fact, the hardness growing against my hip.
He finally caught my mouth with his and crushed his lips against mine. He forced his tongue into my mouth as I groaned and protested. But as soon as his tongue broke through my lips and swept through my mouth, I stopped fighting. The ache between my legs wouldn’t let me fight anymore. My body took over, making me give in without my intending to. I sighed, relaxing, melting into him as I had earlier.
Then he pulled away, leaving me panting for more. “That’s what I thought,” he muttered, smirking. I glared at him again, more incensed than ever. He reached around me, pulling the door handle, opening it. I moved out of the way. He walked back to the driver’s side and got behind the wheel without a word.
I was still breathless, overcome with desire for him. Damn him for being so good at giving my body what it wanted.
I climbed into the car, and we drove to his house in silence. I wasn’t happy about going there, and I intended to do my best to show him how unhappy I was. But whatever I needed to do, it was worth it.
My lips throbbed, still sore from that kiss. All right, the sex wasn’t bad either.
Chapter Eleven
Eric
I didn’t give her any sort of choice. She had to come home with me or she could kiss her money goodbye. I knew how much she needed it. I told myself I was being a dick for holding it over her head, but she had made a deal. I wanted to get my money’s worth.
The next time she made a deal like ours, she would get a contract. The way I saw it, I was teaching her a lesson. She should have been grateful to me for it—at least she’d get paid in the end.
It didn’t take long for me to wish I had done things differently. Instead of bringing her with me, I should have given her the money and sent her home. It was different having her home with me. In a lot of ways.
I was always the guy who slept with a lot of women and kicked them out the next day. They were good for getting my dick wet. I didn’t talk to them, except when we were flirting. I didn’t hang out with them. And I didn’t want the same woman twice. When I got finished with one, I was bored with her right away. It was like once I came, I woke up and wondered why I thought she was so hot in the first place. Then she was about as appetizing as yesterday’s leftovers.
Michelle wasn’t like that. I wasn’t like that around her. And it scared the shit out of me.
Whenever I saw her, I wanted to touch her. She could be doing something simple like washing dishes or pouring a glass of water, and I would want to reach for her. I would want to feel her next to me, smell her perfume and the shampoo she used in her hair. I didn’t need to hold her or cuddle with her or even fuck her. I just wanted to touch her and know she was there, and move along. As simple as that. It was fucking torture keeping my hands off her.
It wasn’t just that. She made me look at my life in a different way, which I hated. I always liked my life—especially when I was out of prison and living like a free person. I liked my house the way it was, or I didn’t care about it, at least. I liked waking up late and partying and going to bed in the middle of the night. I liked living while the rest of the world was asleep.
I didn’t need company either. My club was company enough. I went home to sleep and sometimes eat. That was it. I was with them the rest of the time. Honestly, a quiet house was a godsend after a loud party.
After Michelle, I didn’t like being alone all of a sudden. The house felt better when she was in it.
It looked better, too. I told her a hundred times not to bother cleaning up, and she shot me a dirty look every time. “You might be able to hold me hostage, but you’re not going to make me live in a sty,” she said. I never felt bad about being a slob before, but she had me feeling like a kid getting yelled at by
his mom. I wished I would have cleaned the place up a little bit before I brought her home, but then I didn’t know I’d end up buying a girl at the auction. If I wasn’t a slob, though, it would have mattered. She made me look at the way I lived, and I wasn’t comfortable with it.
I had to take her for a few things at the store when she looked under the kitchen sink and saw I didn’t have cleaning stuff. “Seriously? You don’t even own Windex?” she asked. “No wonder the windows are filthy.”
The craziest part was I didn’t fight with her, even though any other woman would have gotten my temper and an invitation to suck my cock. I didn’t wanna go down that road. Why didn’t I own cleaning products? Because I was in prison for years and just got back. I was too busy partying and cramming in all the fun I missed when I was gone to worry about keeping the place clean.
