And so I stared at Tom, eyes beseeching.
“Please,” I murmured again. “Please.”
But the small man was on some type of power trip. He just looked at his clipboard again and shuffled some papers around, clipping them efficiently at the top with a snap.
“There are no second bites at the apple here at the Billionaires Club,” he sniffed, wrinkling that rabbit nose. “You’ve been dismissed. I’ve got your papers here,” he gestured, holding the board out towards me.
And with shocked eyes, I saw a document titled “Release Papers” with my named written in block letters at the top.
Turning towards Tom, I looked at him again.
“I’m being sent home,” I said, voice leaden with finality. “Back to New York.”
The small man smirked.
“That’s right, there’s no room for losers here. This is a Club for Grade A girls, and you’re just not up to our standards,” he said, shrugging. “Sorry.”
I merely looked at him for a second. How could he say these words to me? How could he say that I was a loser, not good enough for them? How could you treat another human this way, the words rolling off your tongue like poison? But some people are just built different so I lifted my hand limply to sign, defeated. I’d screwed up the one thing that could make a difference to Mattie and Nana, they were depending on me, and I’d completely ruined it. What was going to happen now?
So looking at Tom once more, I gave it one last shot. I had to try. Speaking softly, I beseeched the man. “Please, let my family keep the advance. I can’t pay it back right now, but I promise I will. Just give me some time.”
The small guy’s head snapped my way, eyes alert.
“What advance?” he asked shortly. “The Club doesn’t pay advances.”
And suddenly, I realized just how much I’d messed up. Maria had given me some money from a discretionary slush fund, and hadn’t mentioned it to her boss. She’d acted out of the kindness of her heart, sensing my desperation, and now I’d let the cat of the bag.
“Oh it’s nothing,” I said quickly. “It’s nothing.”
But Tom was like a bloodhound on a trail.
“What advance?” he asked again sharply, ticking his pen impatiently against the clipboard. “What advance?”
And I was just about to open my mouth to spill the beans when suddenly a small buzzing sound went off. Immediately I glanced around the chamber, a little alarmed. Was there a camera in here? Was there a hidden camera somewhere, recording our every move? My nerves jangled, a chill running through my spine. There were probably cameras everywhere, every square inch of the Billionaires Club was probably covered in cameras.
But nothing could be seen, and instead it was Tom who jerked upright, like a puppeteer had tugged his strings. He listened intently, one finger pressed to his ear and I realized what the buzzing sound must have been. He was wearing an earpiece this whole time, I just hadn’t see it, it was so small and flesh-colored. And as the man nodded, he added a couple, “Yes sirs,” and “Of course, sir.”
I watched, befuddled. What was going on? But it didn’t matter. I’d already been dismissed, and not only that, but I’d outed myself and was going to have to pay back the advance. You’re such a dunce! my internal voice screamed. You’re such a dumb, clueless idiot Becky!
And I sank into myself on the hospital bed, curling into a small ball. It was all over. This grand experiment, this chance at life, was all over, and when I got back to New York, I was going to have to explain how I didn’t have a job, how the emergency funds I’d procured had to be paid back stat, and how … I don’t even know. There was no food, we’d have to stop by the shelter and beg for some groceries. Maybe I could harass Ellen once more, hoping to shake some money loose. But I knew that was probably a no-go, even if I could locate my mom.
So locked in misery, I barely heard when Tom snapped off his com line.
“Looks like you’re staying,” he snorted skeptically.
I remained unmoving on the bed, cold with despair, like a dead fish.
“Did you hear me?” he said sharply. “You’re staying.”
And slowly, I roused myself from the deep grey depths.
“I’m sorry?” I asked numbly. “Staying?”
Tom snorted with disbelief.
“Yeah, looks like someone up there wants you to stay,” he grunted, a scowl crossing his pinched features. “With what you’ve done, I would never, but then again, this isn’t up to me.”
I looked at him, puzzled, mind still fuzzy.
“But why?” I asked slowly. “I thought I was being let go? I just signed release papers.”
And with that Tom shrugged, unclipping the papers and tearing them up with loud rips before balling them and pitching then into the trash.
“Again, it’s not up to me, but evidently someone higher-up wants you to stay,” he said shortly. “Again, if it was up to me, you’d be gone already, sayonara girlie.”
Immediately, my heart began pumping. It had to be the dark man, the one who’d saved me. He must have known that I was going to be discharged, that I was going to be fired without a second thought, banished from the Billionaires Club. He must have known and stepped in, offering me a second chance.
I perked up, sitting up straight in the hospital bed.
“So am I going up for auction again?” I asked slowly, hopefully. “I can do it this time, I know I can, I’m ready.”
And at that, Tom threw his head back and brayed loudly.
“No one is stupid enough to ask you to go on stage again,” he said scornfully. “After your little performance last night? I don’t think so. I’m the Master of Auctions here, and trust me, the billionaires know not to cross me when it comes to that.”
I sat back, puzzled.
“But if I’m staying, then what am I going to do?” I asked, gesturing with my hands. “I mean, I’m happy to stay, but what am I going to do here?”
Tom shot me a sharp look.
“You’re going to work of course. You’re going to work for your keep and that means being the billionaires’ maid.”
I sat back, astonished, mouth open. A maid at the club? I suppose this place had to run somehow, there had to be janitors, laundresses, housekeeping, all sorts of people in the shadows, making sure things got done. And a maid made sense. It hadn’t occurred to me, but someone had to keep this place spic and span, and I knew exactly how to do the work. I wash dishes at home, I sweep floors, do laundry, take out the trash, and I’m not above doing honest work. If these were the terms of my service, then so be it. As long as I didn’t have to pay back the advance, so long as Mattie and Nana could eat, then it was fine.
So with a deep breath, I nodded.
“Yes, I’ll stay,” I said firmly. “I’m happy to be a maid at the Billionaires Club.”
And with that, a new chapter of my life began.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kane
I leaned back in the club chair at the bar. It was early and a crowd wasn’t out yet, just a couple other guys getting drinks, relaxing in the luxurious atmosphere. Because the bar at the Club is a pretty rarefied place, there are liquors behind the counter that you can’t find anywhere else in the world. That’s right, ale brewed by monks high up in the Alps? We got it. Twenty year-old Chateau Lafite? It’s right there, and not even top shelf at that. It’s not the best of our big, bold reds, we’ve got stuff that would blow your socks off by comparison.
So I sat back, swirling my bourbon. There’s nothing like some pale gold down the hatch, and I love the good stuff, two fingers straight. But despite the relaxed air, I was far from feeling it. My senses were alert as I scanned the room, looking for Rebecca.
Because yeah, I’d intervened at the last moment to ensure she could stay at the Club. That asshole Tom, our Master of Auctions, was ready to dismiss her, send the girl packing. And I guess it’s not totally crazy. I mean, she did pass out, she did go fucking unconscious right at the most
important moment.
But still, I wanted her and wasn’t above exerting some influence so that she could stay. So making a call here, a call there, Rebecca’s papers were reversed and the girl’s now employed at the club as a maid. Or more accurately, a female helper, because maid is too narrow of a job description. The girls we hire are top-notch, and they do a lot more than clean and cook.
But at the moment, she was nowhere to be found, and another cocktail waitress stepped forward from the shadows, deep violet eyes beckoning, dressed in nothing but a thong and high heels, silver platter on her arm.
“Something for you sir?” she murmured dulcetly.
I leaned back, taking in the lush form. Again, good but not great. I like poundage, and per usual, this girl didn’t have enough.
“Naw,” I grunted. “I got this,” I said, holding up the bourbon. “But you got any new girls working tonight?”
The waitress blinked before smiling once more.
“No sir, I’m not aware of any new girls on shift tonight. But I can check in back if you like.”
I nodded lazily, but my mind had already found its next target, senses on high alert. Because she was here. I’d just seen Rebecca enter by a shadowy doorway on the side and every cell in my body called to the girl, pulling her my way.
And as if she could hear, the brunette’s head suddenly swiveled towards me, brown eyes going wide as she saw my big frame, relaxed with a drink in my hand. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly as that pouty mouth formed an “O” of surprise. God, what would it feel like to have those lips circling my cock, sucking me dry, milking me of sperm? It would be pure heaven, that’s what. And best of all, it was gonna happen. It was absolutely gonna happen.
“Tell your friend to join me here, will you?” I grunted at the cocktail waitress. “Tell that brunette to come over.”
And the blonde cocked a head in Becky’s direction before nodding.
“Certainly sir,” she murmured, waltzing away. Pausing, she spoke a few quiet words to Rebecca before disappearing, the brunette immediately swinging to look at me again, eyes going wide. And sure enough, with slow steps, Becky teetered towards me then, dressed in nothing but a thong and high heels, the standard server attire at the bar, almost tripping on her way over. I laughed softly to myself. This little girl was so innocent, so naïve that she didn’t even know how to walk in high heels. Shit, I had so much to teach her.
But what I hadn’t counted on was my body’s response. Because as the girl stopped by my chair, I paused, dick jerking alert. Rebecca was even more beautiful than I remembered, more delectable up close. The tiny purple thong highlighted how lush and huge her ass cheeks were, bisected only by a thin strip of satin. Her tits were huge, mountainous Double Ds, giant sacs of cream tipped with pink nipples, begging to be sucked and licked. And oh shit, but those thighs. They were like ham hocks, juicy and firm, and it took all my restraint not to attack her then, to drag this female to my quarters and drill her until she couldn’t walk anymore.
“Hello,” she said, voice low and dulcet. “Hello.”
I leaned back, looking up at the brunette.
“Hello yourself,” I rumbled. “Care to take a seat?” I asked, gesturing with my hand at the chair across from me. “Make yourself comfortable.” Of course, my offer was a command and the girl knew it.
So hesitating for a moment, she looked around before lowering herself gingerly. I almost laughed again at how Becky positioned the silver platter decorously on her lap, the metal tray covering her thighs and cunt. I’d already seen that pussy bare, I’d already seen those engorged lips, the slickly wet pink flesh within, even glimpsing her hymen. There were no secrets here, so her modesty was misplaced, but I let it slide. The girl was charming all the same, and might as well help her get comfortable before I took that twat.
“So, what’s your name?” I drawled lazily.
“I’m Be-Rebecca,” she said softly, looking into my eyes and just as quickly, looking away again. “Article Thirty from last night,” she added, flushing.
I nodded. Of course she was Article Thirty, the woman had made me so hot that I’d jizzed in my private booth, just watching her move.
“I see. And you work at the Club now?” I asked smoothly, pretending that I didn’t know. Call it social niceties, but there was no sense in letting on that I’d already read a dossier about the woman, I knew everything from her parents’ names to her blood type. Might as well go slow and act like this was a normal interaction, although of course, there’s nothing normal about the Billionaires Club.
And Rebecca nodded.
“Yes,” she said softly. “The auction, um, didn’t exactly turn out as expected, but the Club didn’t kick me out. They let me stay on as a maid,” she said hesitantly. “I’m grateful,” she murmured.
Nodding sagely, I took another sip of my drink.
“Yeah, it takes a lot of people to run this place,” I gestured expansively. “Shit doesn’t get done by itself, and you know us billionaires, we’re messy mofos. We need a lot of maids.”
Becky flushed beautifully then, looking down.
“Well, if you’ll tell me how I can help you, I’m more than happy,” she said quietly. “Just let me know.”
And I practically laughed out loud then. I knew exactly how she could help me, I could hand her the Kama Sutra with its five billion positions, and that would get us started, keep us occupied for a while. But that was no way to treat a nubile, teenage nymph. I wanted to put the girl at ease, even get to know her a little bit before the real party began. So I went slow, easing into it.
“What happened last night?” I growled, leaning back with a casual air. Actually my dick was already as stiff as a baseball bat, but she couldn’t quite see with the way I positioned my arm. “You have a habit of fainting? Low red blood cell count or something?”
And Rebecca flushed.
“No, I mean yes,” she said, biting her lip and looking down. Those huge tits quivered, the pink nipples stiff in the cold air of the bar and it was all I could do not to bend down and suckle one, just for kicks. But I wanted my girl hot, not cold, and the best way to amp up the heat is through a woman’s mind, do a little mental foreplay.
So I looked at her wryly.
“Is that a no or a yes?” I asked, an amused grin dancing about my lips.
Rebecca flushed.
“I don’t faint, not usually,” she said. “I mean I fainted back in seventh grade when they showed us that video about the hazards of drunk driving. There was so much blood that one minute I was sitting in the darkened classroom, and then whoosh, the next minute I was on the ground,” she admitted. “But since then, I don’t really faint. It’s just when I’m getting blood taken or something like that, then sometimes I pass out.”
I crooked an eyebrow at her.
“But there was no blood last night,” I rumbled. “No blood at all.”
The girl bit her lip again, looking at me shyly.
“I know, it’s just that I didn’t expect it, you know?” she murmured. “Didn’t expect it at all.”
Now I was interested, curiosity piqued.
“Didn’t expect the men? Didn’t expect the bidding?” I asked smoothly. “But surely they told you about all of that during Prep.”
She nodded, flushing.
“I knew about that,” she confessed. “It’s the cameras I didn’t expect. They were huge, like giant black bumblebees and I didn’t expect one to fly so close to me when I was … you know …” her voice trailed off.
“When you were bent over, spreadeagle?” I finished, my deep voice smooth. There was no sense in shying away from female body parts with me, I planned on having her every which way like a delicious pretzel. “You mean when you were holding yourself open, showing that sweet twat?”
And if she was pink before, then the girl was an even hotter shade of fuchsia now. It was fetching, the blush spreading over her breasts and down her tummy, dipping into her thong. I wanted to rip aw
ay the satin, to watch as those pussy lips swelled with heat, lush and puffy. Were they wet as well right now? Because I was fucking hard sitting in the club chair, although I masked it with the drink in my hand.
Becky nodded again, flushing.
“Yes, when I was showing you my insides,” she finished in a whisper. “When I was showing you what was inside me.”
And shit, but my dick jerked then, spurting a little within my pants. Because yeah, I remembered all of it, the scene playing over and over again in my mind. My eyes had been glued to the sight before me, the glistening walls of her cunt dripping honey, watching as that thin piece of tissue, her hymen, was revealed, so precious, so innocent. But I wanted to know a bit more.
“But they must have told you about the cameras,” I said reasonably, my deep voice a growl. “There were cameras all over you honey, in every corner of that room,” I added.
The woman flushed and nodded again.
“I know,” she said faintly. “It’s just that I didn’t expect one to hover right in back of me, the lens pointed straight up my body, and it threw me off. Plus, I was bent over balanced in those high heels, and the blood rushed to my head, and …” her voice trailed off again.
“And it was too much, huh?” I rumbled, voice deep. “It was too much.”
She nodded slightly, confirming, big tits heaving a bit with quick inhales.
“It was, and when I saw you watching, that pushed me over the edge, Sir. All the blood exited my brain and I toppled over,” she finished in a whisper.
If I’d been hard before, then I was fucking diamond strength now. Because Becky had admitted the unspoken between us. When she’d danced last night, when she’d bent over and pulled herself open, it’d been me she’d performed for. It was my eyes she met, that lascivious lick of her tongue had been for me, and now she was putting it out there. Sure, there’d been cameras and other men watching, but they may as well have not been there. The world had narrowed so that it was just two of us, and I growled at her then, a lion sizing up its prey.
Serving Him Page 5
