SEXT ME

by Layla Valentine

  “Where are we going?” I asked after half an hour in the car. The driver glanced back at me with a surprised look on his face, but didn’t answer. I waited for a moment, then tried once more. “Excuse me, sir? Would you mind telling me where we are going?”

  There was a nervous knot in my stomach, but I forced a smile regardless. I didn’t want him to see how nervous I was, especially since he thought I was my sister. He glanced back in the mirror once more, then looked back at the road in front of us.

  “I’m paid to drive, not talk, miss,” he replied.

  Unsure of what to say, I turned my attention back out the window. There was something about the situation that thrilled me to the core, in spite of my nerves. For the first time in my adult life, I wasn’t jealous of my sister—I was exhilarated to be her.

  The car continued for another fifteen minutes before it pulled off the main road and onto a smaller drive. It was too dark to make out many of the details in the area, though I could see that there were a lot of trees lining the road. There weren’t any other cars around us, and the soft hum of the tires rolling along the paved road was audible in the silence.

  We continued up another short, winding road, then suddenly, a large house appeared in front of us. I was amazed that I hadn’t been able to see it before that moment—a house that size looked like it ought to be visible from space.

  There were cars in front of us driving slowly up the hill, each stopping in front of the house and letting passengers slip out. When my turn came, my heart thudded in my chest as the man opened my door for me and motioned with his arm for me to step out…onto a red carpet.

  My strappy stilettos sank into the carpet ever so slightly, and at the same time, I felt a shiver of excitement rush down my spine. The nerves were quickly leaving my stomach, and I was beginning to feel a surge of confidence like I had never felt before in my life. I held my clutch in front of me the same way I saw the other women carrying theirs, and I walked with soft deliberation toward the door.

  I could feel heads turn as I walked past, but I didn’t have the guts to make eye contact with any of them. Men and women alike took notice of me, and there was a part of me that wanted to blurt out my mistake and turn around to go home.

  Once at the door, I was surprised to be stopped by a man standing with arms crossed—a bouncer, I guessed. He wore sunglasses in spite of it being nighttime, as well as a headset. He was tall and muscular, with a no-nonsense look about him.

  The bouncer held his hand up, motioning for me to stop, and I flung my hair over my shoulder, doing my best impression of a movie star.

  I then noticed a second doorman on the other side, dressed completely identically to the first man. They both stood with their arms crossed and the same serious expressions on their faces, each looking as though they would have no problem at all telling anyone to leave—and to make sure that they actually did.

  “Miss Shadows. Em—Maddy. Maddy Shadows,” I stuttered, realizing a fraction too late that I should use my sister’s name.

  The man looked at me for a moment, lowering his sunglasses and clearly studying me. I felt uncomfortable—as though he was looking inside my very soul. I didn’t know how well these people knew Maddy, but I silently prayed that he would let me in anyway.

  My stomach sank as he turned to the other bouncer and gave him a look. I didn’t know how these men communicated, or what their glances were saying to each other. I maintained the confidence I had so shakily built up, hoping they wouldn’t see through me.

  Please, please don’t ask to see my ID, please just let me through, I frantically thought, in spite of the smile that was plastered on my face.

  By a stroke of sheer luck, he stepped to one side, letting me past.

  I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I squared my shoulders and drew myself up to my full height. He continued to study me as I walked past him and into a dark hallway. I was ushered along with the people who were spilling in through the door toward another door. I could hear the faint sound of music that was almost club-like, but with a different feel to it.

  Another doorman let me into the room, but nothing could have prepared me for the sight that greeted me there. There was indeed club music playing over the speakers, though it was quieter than being in an actual club. The lights were dim and there were people everywhere. Everyone had a drink in their hand, and there were servers walking around offering hors d’oeuvres and champagne in small flutes.

  The room was elegantly decorated, with a large chandelier hanging from the ceiling and expensive-looking paintings and gently glowing light fixtures lining the walls. The floor was covered in a plush carpet, and I was surprised to see that the room was completely open. There was no furniture of any kind—perhaps it had been moved for the event?

  There was another oddity that caught my eye, and I couldn’t help but wonder what it was intended for.

  On the left side of the room there was a large stage. It was made of what appeared to be mahogany, with lights that could be focused toward either the stage or into the room, as they now were. There was a microphone in the center of the stage, but there weren’t any instruments or any indication that a band would play. I was incredibly curious, but I played it off as smoothly as I could and accepted a flute of champagne from one of the servers.

  There was a bar set up on the other side of the room, filled with all kinds of liquors, and a man dressed in black from head to toe was mixing drinks. He had black hair and a short beard, and was wearing black eyeliner, as well. I had seen some interesting sights in my life, but that man really caught my attention. He looked up and made eye contact with me briefly, and I quickly looked away.

  I felt my breath catch in my throat as I looked around, amazed at the sheer volume of wealth that was around me. Suddenly, my cocktail dress (which I’d splurged $100 on) felt cheap, and the gold necklace I had proudly boasted at the restaurant felt like a toy that came out of a fifty-cent vending machine.

  Women with dresses worth thousands of dollars turned and glanced at me while men who looked like billionaires eyed me with a hunger that sent more shivers down my spine.

  I reminded myself once more that I was supposed to be my sister, and I wondered if there was anyone in the room that I was supposed to know. I did my best to look like I belonged, though I was silently hoping no one would attempt to make conversation with me. I wasn’t sure how these people interacted with each other, or what they talked about.

  I knew just enough about my sister’s career to be able to carry on a conversation, as long as there were no names involved. Sure, she’d mentioned names to me before, but I’d never bothered to remember any of them—they hadn’t mattered at the time. I locked eyes with a few people, though I found it difficult to maintain eye contact with anyone. These people were intimidating and incredibly wealthy—they came from a different world than I did.

  A warm smile from a woman in the corner of the room offered me some reassurance, and I considered walking over to her and starting a conversation, but at that moment, all eyes were drawn to the stage.

  A woman had walked into the center and held the microphone, calling for the attention of everyone in the room.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, I’m glad to see so many of you have made it. I apologize for the delay, but I am pleased to announce that now that all the lots have arrived, we are ready to begin!”

  The crowd cheered, and though I didn’t know what was going on, I clapped, too.

  Suddenly, a man came up beside me and grabbed me by the arm. He was dressed the same as those who were guarding the doors, with dark sunglasses and a suit, and he began ushering me toward the stage. Part of me thought to resist and ask him what he thought he was doing, but I had to remind myself that I wasn’t me, I was my sister.

  With a knot in my stomach, I allowed myself to be swept along with the man.

  What is this, Maddy? What are you a part of?

  Chapter Three

  Emily

 
I wasn’t sure what was going to happen next, nor how to respond. I had to keep reminding myself that I was supposed to be my sister, and that I should do what she would do—but in the moment, I wasn’t certain what that was. Maddy had always been calm and collected, and I could only imagine that she would be in this situation, as well.

  But then again, Maddy would know what was going on here.

  The man led me through a side door and into a narrow hall where we were met by a woman.

  “You’re late!” she hissed into my ear as the man transferred me to her.

  “I’m sorry. I was having dinner…with my sister,” I explained.

  The woman gave me a look that made me feel as though I had just said the most ridiculous thing she had ever heard, then she turned and pushed me into what appeared to be a dressing room. I wasn’t sure what she wanted me to do, but I didn’t have to wait long. Within seconds, two more women had appeared and were stripping me of my cocktail dress.

  My first instinct was to tell them to leave me alone and walk out, but I was curious to see what was going to happen. They took my red dress and presented me with one that was black and lacy.

  There was little left to the imagination once I had the garment on, and I was pleased that I had taken care of myself and had a job where I was on my feet for ten hours a day. I might not have the exact same body as Maddy, but I was in good enough shape that I could pass for her—a commercial model.

  One of the women zipped up the back of the dress while the other handed me a pair of stiletto boots. I quickly slipped them on, then looked at myself in the mirror. The dress was incredibly short, barely reaching to the very tops of my thighs. The black leather boots reached up over my knees, giving me an instantly edgy look I never could have imagined myself wearing.

  I thought that was the end of it, but I was quickly ushered out of the dressing room and into a seat in front of a mirror where a man quickly went to work on my face. He swiped a baby wipe over my skin, removing all the makeup I had applied myself, before getting to work. I would never have chosen to go so dark with the eyeshadow myself, but by the time he was done, I had to admit: I looked good.

  I wasn’t given any time to admire myself, however, as I was immediately steered toward the stage I had seen just moments before. I was doing my best to keep my footing in the high heels as I was hurried along next to one of the men, but I couldn’t help but glance over my shoulder back at the dressing room. Another girl was already being rushed inside, and I couldn’t help but wonder if she knew what was going on, or if she was just as uncertain and surprised as myself.

  A bright light caused me to put my hand up and over my face, but the man who was escorting me quickly pulled it down again. The woman who had announced that the “lots” had arrived was still standing on the stage, and she turned with a broad smile as soon as I stepped into view.

  I hadn’t yet understood what was happening with the crowd, until the woman announced me as the first lot of the night.

  My escort walked me directly to her side, then stood for a moment before turning on his heel and walking off the stage with the same deliberation he had brought me on with. I watched him go with a knot forming in the pit of my stomach.

  Though this experience was all very new and unfamiliar to me, I knew that there was something going on—and I was the object everyone was looking at.

  I knew before the woman even said so that I was about to be auctioned off, and I couldn’t help but think of my sister once more—what kind of people did she hang around? What kind of a party was this?

  “I would like to point out that this is one of the fullest groups we’ve seen here at the Gathering, and I am pleased. I trust that all of you know how this works, and you’ll all play by the rules. May the highest bidder win! Let’s start the bidding at five thousand dollars,” the woman said, before adding, “I know it’s on the low side, but there are a lot of new faces here, and we don’t want to scare anyone off.”

  A murmur of quiet laughter ran through the crowd, and I started to feel lightheaded. I reminded myself to stay cool—if this was the kind of thing Maddy did, then I could do it, too. She didn’t have to be the only cool Shadows sister; I could hold my own in the same field that she could. At least, that’s how I felt, until the bidding started.

  It wasn’t the kind of auction I thought it would be. It didn’t take long for the bidding to reach into the tens of thousands of dollars, but the bidding process was slow and deliberate. I had expected only men to be bidding, thinking that I was going to be auctioned off to spend a lust-filled night with any one of them. I was surprised to see that there were women bidding on me, as well.

  One woman in particular seemed to have taken a special liking to me, though I found it difficult to maintain eye contact with anyone due to the bright lights and my increasing anxiety. I may have only been on the stage for a few minutes, but it felt like an eternity.

  The bidding began to slow, and I was convinced I would be spending the night with a distinguished-looking older gentleman standing close to the front of the crowd. I didn’t like to think of myself as potentially being “bought”—if that was really what this was about—but I couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like spending the night with this man.

  Then, another bid came in from the back of the room. The woman standing on the stage next to me appeared surprised by the sudden gesture, though she was quick to recover.

  A murmur ran through the crowd, then, and I got the impression that $100,000 was a far higher bid than many had heard before. I didn’t know what it was about me that had prompted such a high bid, and I wondered if this kind of thing happened to Maddy often.

  I kept my hands at my side, refusing to fidget with my dress though I didn’t know what to do with my hands, and the woman beside me suddenly spoke.

  “Is there anyone that wishes to go higher?” she asked with a clear voice. Another slight murmur ran through the crowd, but no one offered to go any higher. With an elaborate gesture of her hand, the woman announced the bidding over.

  “Miss Shadows is sold to Mr. Cunningham! Thank you!” She clapped her hands and the crowd responded, and I found myself being ushered from the stage.

  I smiled nervously, keeping my footing as best I could on the narrow steps leading down the side of the stage. Another girl had already taken my place, and the woman had begun the bidding process again.

  I glanced over my shoulder, amazed that the next girl looked completely at ease with the situation, almost as if she was enjoying being the center of such attention—as if she wanted to see just how much men were willing to spend to get a night with her. My attention was soon turned to my own situation, however, as I was presented to the man who had bought me for the night.

  “Mr. Cunningham, Miss Shadows,” the bouncer said, rather flatly, before leaving us.

  I looked at Mr. Cunningham, and once again, I felt as though all my breath had been stolen from me. He was tall and muscular—very clearly a man who spent a lot of time in the gym. His dark brown hair was cut and styled in a sophisticated, messy manner, his eyes so blue they seemed otherworldly.

  His smile revealed the most perfectly straight and white teeth I had ever seen, and I thought I could detect the very bottom of a tattoo peeking out from beneath the golden watch on his wrist. I was instantly mesmerized by the aura this man exuded. There was an attitude about him that I found instantly captivating, and although I had just met him, I desperately wanted to know more about him.

  He glanced back toward the stage as the woman made the announcement that the new round of bidding would begin, but he didn’t seem interested in anyone else in the room but me.

  Mr. Cunningham put his hand on the small of my back and turned me toward the bar, moving with the kind of assurance I’d never seen before.

  “Can I get you a drink?” he asked with a suave smile. I nodded, unable to speak.

  My heart was pounding in my chest with a frenzy unlike anything I’d experienc
ed before.

  Chapter Four

  Kyle

  I don’t know what came over me when I walked into the club. I’d been there a hundred times before, and this time wasn’t any different…or so I thought. The Gathering was nothing new to me—I would walk in, look over my options, and make my selection.

  I knew I had more money than the richest man in the room; I knew all the men wished they were me, and that all the women wished they were with me.

  Kyle Cunningham was a name that circulated around the club often. The attendees knew that I was a no-nonsense kind of man, and when I wanted something, I was not afraid to get out there and take it.

  I sauntered through the room, making eye contact with everyone I passed but not bothering to hold their gazes for long. I had more important matters that needed my attention, and I was going to address those before anything else.

  Cora, the stage manager, was making her normal announcement, filling the time before the first of the lots would appear. I was used to this speech; it was the same thing she said every time the bidding was about to begin, and I nearly had the script memorized. I could probably recite it myself if I had the inclination to head up onto center stage and command the attention of everyone in the room.

  Center stage. I always had center stage, no matter where I went. Other men would pretend that they weren’t intimidated by me, but I could see it in their eyes. Each time I passed by, regardless of the club I found myself in or the company I found myself surrounded by, they would take a step back or to the side, offering me plenty of room to walk through.

  Of course, I make a point of walking through with my shoulders pushed back and standing tall at my full height. There was no need to hide anything or to act as though I were ashamed of even a single thing I was.