He’s blabbing on but I don’t care about any of that shit.
The money? They can keep it. Their club hotel? The private jet? The sex clubs where the girls dance around nude and available? They can have it all. There’s only one thing in their possession that I care about, and that’s Trina.
But I don’t say a single word.
“You don’t give a damn about any of that, do you?” he asks me, his voice low and amazed. “That lovely piece of womanflesh has you all twisted up, doesn’t it? Shit man, get it together.”
Finally, I can’t take it anymore.
“Fuck it!” I snarl at him and slam my hand into the window. Pain ricochets through me. Blood smears across the glass, obliterating the view. “Fuck!” I unclench my fist and shake it out; now the pain is riding me hard.
It’s as if listening to Costas talk about Trina opened me up to pain in more ways than one.
God. She must hate me right now. That lovely piece of womanflesh, he called her. I could slam his head into the wall for talking about my girl like that.
Because she’s so more than that to me. She’s the woman who saved me from this cold world I’ve been living in for so long. And how did I repay her for being this amazing presence in my life? I force her to take my dick in her ass, and pump so much semen into her that I see the sperm slipping from her bottom when that meathead dragged her away. She trusted me, and all I did was throw her away.
Yeah, I knew all the Club rules backwards and forwards. Hell, I even helped to write some of them. I knew very well that I was fucking up the whole time she and I were together.
Shit, I might as well have kidnapped Trina myself.
“Here. Take this.”
I come out of my stupor to see a napkin wrapped in ice waving in front of my face. Costas hands it to me with an unreadable expression on his face. “Don’t fuck up your hand for no good reason.” When I take the ice and put it on my hand, he walks away from me again. “You were as dumb as shit, Knight. But I’m going to do all I can to help you.”
“I’m not asking for your fucking help!” is my growl.
Costas doesn’t even flinch. “Of course not. But I’m going to give it to you anyway. You are one of us, despite your poor choices.” His green eyes glint at me. “You’ve always been a good guy who had pretty decent judgment until this girl suddenly appeared.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and paces a few steps away. “That’s why I’m doing what I’m doing.” He pauses. “For your Trina.” Then he sighs. “Although, granted, there doesn’t seem to be much leeway in terms of the rules. You signed the contract. I’m sure you knew exactly what you were getting into when you dicked that virgin and stole her from our stables.”
“She’s not property!” I clench my fist in the ice pack. “You talk like she’s a horse or some barn animal. Fuck you, man. Fuck you.”
But Costas remains unmoved.
“You didn’t think that about the other girls though, right?” His knowing smile tells me I don’t even need to answer. “Anyways, sit tight.” He looks around the room, cool green eyes landing on a pile of Trina’s discarded clothes. “Obviously, you’ll be stuck here for a while.” Then he laughs before growing serious. “Wait for the right moment to make your move. When it comes, you’ll know.”
And then he’s gone. I hear the lock turn as Costas’s slow footsteps echo down the long hallway.
Silence echoes through the suite. And yet, all I can hear is Trina’s name. Her screams, begging me for help while I stood there like chump. Afraid of myself more than anyone else.
Grayson! Help me! Save me!
The ice crackles in the napkin and pulses coldly in my fist. Every muscle in my body clenches at the memory of her screams. I was supposed to keep her safe, and instead, here I am locked up like a caged animal.
Trina. My baby girl.
If I don’t get to her somehow, these last memories will haunt me for the rest of my life. So I’ve got to be ready. Like Costas said, my chance will come. And god help those assholes if they’ve so much as touched a hair on her head. Baby, hold tight, I growl in my mind. I’m coming … and this time, I won’t let you down.
Chapter 11
Trina
From somewhere far off, I hear the loud and persistent ticking of a clock.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
The sounds are like hard knocking on a door in a brain. Sensing there’s something waiting on the other side that I don’t want to deal with, I try to resist the knocks. But slowly and steadily, they pull me up from my exhausted sleep. My eyes gradually open, lashes sticking together from the tears I cried before I fell asleep.
Tears?
Oh god. Tears. Yes. For Grayson and what he did to me. It all comes back to me in a terrifying flood.
Being in Grayson’s bathroom with his seed still swimming inside me, feeling so safe and adored, the water washing down my bare skin. I’d never felt more content, as if I belonged to someone who would never betray me like my parents did. Then the door burst open, letting in a monster who snatched me from my fairy tale and pushed me into a cold limo where I shivered with only a robe covering my wet skin.
In the limo, I was trapped with two men I’d never seen before, but honestly, that didn’t even matter. All I could think about was Grayson and how he stood there, doing nothing as I was kidnapped. His betrayal cut me to the core, my heart folding in on itself as I realized just how little I mattered to him.
The limo crawled through various neighborhoods, but I barely noticed. And when it came to a halt, the destination was no place I recognized.
The big, bald man hauled me out of the car and into a private courtyard in the center of an elegant-looking mansion. Another place that looked like a fairytale castle but was anything but. Somewhere in my innermost soul, I knew that no dreams could come true in a place like this.
The pitiless monster dragged me inside the castle and through another set of dizzying hallways and into a room. There, I collapsed onto a bed that had soft, fluffy pillows and a silky, cloud-like comforter. But I was numb, feeling nothing. And then, somehow, through endless tears, I fell asleep.
The nightmares were horrendous. A terrifying dream of being chased through a dark forest while monstrous eyes glowed through the darkness. Wolves howled. Bears growled. Hyenas cried out. They were all chasing me, and I fled for my life.
In the dream, my body ached. My bare feet throbbed from bolting across an uneven and slippery ground, bleeding heavily.
But now I’m awake.
My body still hurts, though. I ache everywhere, especially in my heart. Whimpering and crying with fresh tears, I lift my hand to my chest. There. Yes. It’s still there. My heart. It’s still beating, to my surprise. Thump thump. Thump thump. My heart’s not broken into a thousand pieces like I thought. It’s a miracle that this organ is in my chest and still working.
But still, my lower lip quivers with resentment. How can my body still go on when all I feel is broken?
Slowly, I sit up in the bed. Black silk sheets slither off my body and down my breasts and my stomach to pool in my lap. The air in the room is cold but my cheeks feel hot. With each blink it feels like I have sand behind my eyelids. An ocean waiting to fall down my cheeks.
My life is over.
Grayson. He betrayed me. He never loved me. He probably never even liked me. He only wanted to try out my body for free instead of paying for the privilege at the Billionaires Club auction. It was a bonus that I happened to be a virgin, and he took even that from me. I thought I was giving it away willingly to someone I was deeply attracted to, maybe even someone who loved me. But instead, it was stolen by a man who didn’t care.
Oh god! A sob bursts from my throat. My chest thuds and a sharp pain slices through my body.
Grayson. Why? Why would he do this? But I’ve already answered my own question. My face feels wet. Tears fall down my cheeks and splash on my naked breasts. Where’s the robe I wore yesterday? I look around the room in a da
ze. Where am I, anyways? Does it even matter?
No, it does matter. I can’t let this break me anymore. I have to care. I have to survive, if only to slap Grayson’s face when—if—I see him again. Not to mention I still have Nana and Mickey to take care of. They’re depending on me and I can’t help them if I just sit here like a zombie and let these rich assholes do whatever they want to me. The thought of my family worried sick hardens my resolve to get myself out of this mess.
I shift against the bed and the black sheets slide against my bare bottom, pussy, and thighs. They are soft but I can’t stand the way they feel. This luxury is poison. It’s the same kind of trap I fell into with Grayson.
My eyes dart around the room. Just as before, this room has every luxury. Furniture with curled arms and backs, gold painted wallpaper, and a wide mirror stretching all the way across the ceiling. An old-fashioned clock ticks away the seconds on a large dresser by the door.
Tick tock. Tick tock. It’s the sound that woke me up.
Why bother placing a clock in here? To torture me with the knowledge of time passing, knowing I’m trapped and can’t get away even I tried? Can I escape, though? Do I even have a chance?
I bite my trembling lip, trying to find even a little bit of fight in me. But the resolve leaves as quickly as it came. My body is drained. My soul is empty. My heart is broken.
“You’re awake!” a cheery voice announces. A woman appears in the suddenly open door of the bedroom. Like some of the women who took me through the process to get pretty enough for Grayson to spoil, she’s wearing spa whites. “Come on, we have to get you ready,” she says with a big smile. Her round blue eyes sparkle and her sturdy body reminds me of an East German swimmer circa the 1980’s. But her face is open and kind.
Unfortunately, the woman being here and dressed like this only means one thing.
Oh god! I choke back another sob. Not again. Not another billionaire to mess with me and treat me the way Grayson did. I thought I loved him, and I thought he loved me in return.
No. Stop being such a fool! He doesn’t love me, so I shouldn’t even think about him. It’s not worth it.
Gritting my teeth, I stifle every ounce of feeling I have for Grayson. He doesn’t deserve any of it.
“Where am I?” I mewl before winding at the pathetic sound of my voice.
“Don’t worry about that, honey,” the Russian lady answers. “You won’t be here long enough to worry about that anyways.”
“But—”
“But nothing,” she says firmly. “Come on, sweetie, we’ve got a lot to do,” she says insistently when I don’t get out of the bed fast enough.
The woman approaches, but I slither off the other side of the bed and stand up, shivering and naked. I don’t want anyone touching me, even another woman. I don’t care that she’s looking over my naked body like it’s just another piece of furniture. With a determined smile, she picks up the robe from last night and half drapes, half throws it over my body. “Time to get you pretty for these billionaires. Well, you’re pretty already, but we want to get everything smooth and polished.” She pinches my cheek, almost like a kindly grandmother. “Don’t you want to be pretty?”
Pretty pretty pretty. No, in fact, I don’t want to be attractive. Look what being pretty’s gotten to me. It seems safer just to look like a bucket of sludge.
But the woman’s already walking away, beckoning for me to follow.
“Come on,” she chrips. “You’ll enjoy it.”
And with slow feet, I trudge behind her. Just as before, it’s the same beauty assembly line. Scrub. Wax. Makeup. They straighten and tidy up my curly hair, leaving me with a perfect coif. However, my eyes in the mirror look dead.
And then there’s another skimpy dress to put on over my perfumed and softened body. As before, the gold lamé barely covers my big boobs and huge ass. In the mirror, I look like a sex buffet, just waiting to be devoured hungrily. The gold high heels on my feet feel like stilts and I stumble, unable to balance.
It doesn’t matter anyway. Grayson doesn’t want me. He never cared, and nothing matters now. I’m meant to be taken by another billionaire, and although I don’t want to do it, this is what I signed up for in the beginning.
My breath moves calmly in and out. My body is cold. My heart is like ice. The woman barely notices.
“All right, sweetie! Let’s go on to the next step.” Still cheerful as ever, she guides me to the next portion, whatever that is.
With robotic steps, I numbly follow her into the hallway and through another luxurious maze of hallways and closed doors. Dazed and frozen from the inside out, I look around me but it’s all unfamiliar. I’ve never been here before.
It’s more of the same. More elegant luxury. More things these billionaires can afford to throw away on women they don’t plan to keep.
My heart squeezes in pain. A cry scrapes the inside of my throat but I keep it inside. I won’t show them how much I hurt.
At the end of a walk that seems to take forever, the Russian and I get to a door with a window in it. The door is high and wide and the window looks like a picture frame. Inside this frame is a view into a small room.
“Go ahead,” the Russian says kindly, almost like she’s talking to a little kid. “Take a look.”
I don’t care about anything, so I don’t move. But with that same cheerful smile, she pokes me hard in the side, forcing my eyes to the spectacle through the window.
The room is mostly empty. A low, round stage stands in the center and twelve darkened booths surround the stage. Each booth is high enough for a very tall man to sit or even stand, and as I watch, a bright green light flickers on and off at the top of some of the booths.
A song begins. I can feel it through the door. It’s something sensual and modern with the steady thump of a bass. A sexy twisting melody wails, and my body shivers in response, every sense on high.
Suddenly, a woman walks out from the darkness and mounts the dais. As the music continues to play, she begins to dance sinuously, flipping her hair back and forth while rotating her hips. She’s so pretty. Much prettier than me, I think, and so confident.
And she’s completely nude.
Her long black hair moves around her sinuous body like a curtain caught in the breeze. With every movement, she throws her head back and closes her eyes, moving slow and sensuous like a dark snake. Her lips part, and she licks them like she’s waiting for something thick and hard to slide between them. She’s enjoying herself while moving her body to the music and touching herself. She strokes her luscious breasts and wriggles her bottom, turning every so often so that every booth can get an eyeful of what she’s offering.
The woman’s mouth moves with the words of the song and she tosses teasing gazes through her thick and beautiful curtain of inky hair. She looks like a practiced seductress. And she’s loving every second of it.
I gasp. Oh my goodness, this is it. Realization crashes through my frame. There must be men in those booths, watching her and wanting her and dare I say it? Bidding on the woman. She knows an auction is happening this very second, and she’s urging the men on.
Oh god. My knees start to shake and fear mixed with anticipation rushes through my frame.
Suddenly, a monotone female voice comes from somewhere in the darkness. “Thank you for your bids. Item 656 has been sold to bidder four for one point two million dollars. Sale final.”
And with that, two men in black uniforms come and collect the girl. The woman looks triumphant, stroking her breasts and haunches one last time. Her smile is lazy and heavy-lidded even as she’s led offstage on wobbly legs. Her excitement is obvious. Heaving breasts, flushed cheeks, the the unmistakable gleam of pussy juices trickling down the inside of her thighs. And then I have another startling realization. She’s doing this because she wants to. It wasn’t just a performance for her. Being auctioned is something desirable and sexy.
Suddenly, the Russian turns me to face her. Her aggressively b
lue eyes study me critically. Shivering from the close scrutiny, I can feel her picking every part of me apart and examining all of me, not missing an inch.
“Put this on, honey,” she commands and hands me a midnight blue velvet robe.
What now? Why this? If I’m going up on stage, why would I need a cloak?
But I grip the material in my cold and nervous fingers and slowly put it on. The velvet is sinfully soft and plush, the material caressing my naked skin like warm hands. It’s long and big enough to cover me all the way down to the gold stilettos on my feet.
“Cover your beautiful face, sweetie,” the Russian says. “When they finally see it, it’ll be a gorgeous surprise.”
What? I stare at her in shock but the woman merely nods with approval. “Go on in. It’s your turn now.”
And as if by magic, big door with the window swings open silently.
I pause, gripping the edges of the velvet robe closed with shaky fingers. Oh god. I can’t do what that other girl did. I can’t dance like that. I don’t even know how to dance like that. Plus, I’m still thinking about Grayson and his betrayal. It stings so deep in my heart, and I can’t be sold to another billionaire now. No, this can’t be happening.
But it’s too late. A pain in my chest rips me apart. It’s my heart as it breaks all over again.
Please, God. Don’t make me have to do this. Oh no. please. Please. Please.
Sold to Him: A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance Page 12
