I tell myself to leave that thought right there. There’s no way I could pursue anything with this athlete I don’t even know, even though in fantasy, it sounds amazing. I bet he’d be as skilled in bed as he is in on the slopes. I bet he’d know exactly what to do with me, like no other guy I’ve ever dated has.
If only I could find out. But I can’t. And that’s that.
Right?
Chapter 2 – Melissa
“I can’t believe how good he is,” I remark, as we file out along with what looks like about a bazillion other fans. “He won a medal.”
“Only a silver,” Sheila says, with an unimpressed shrug. “I really thought he’d get gold. But he’s a dream, regardless.”
“I know,” Amy agrees. “Every woman’s dream come true.”
“Well, thanks for inviting me,” I tell her.
“I knew you’d like it, even if you were convinced otherwise,” Sheila says.
“Yeah, you know me pretty well,” I admit.
“I just know you should try more things. Loosen up a little. Have more fun.”
“Okay, Sheila,” I tell her, with a laugh.
“Always a good idea,” Amy adds, her pretty, dark brown eyes brightening, and once again, I can’t help but wonder why she’s so interested in Sheila and me having a good time.
As we stand shivering in the cold, annoyed by the throng of people, someone comes up to us with a note.
“Hello, Amy,” he greets Amy in Korean. She nods at him and smiles. Then he turns his attention to Sheila and me. “Misses, misses,” he says, speaking English with a strong Korean accent, as he hands it to us. “Mr. Schmidt would like you to have this.”
We open the note, and it says:
Meet me at Hanwootown as soon as you can.
“What’s Hanwootown?” I ask Sheila, wondering if it’s some mistake.
Maybe I can’t read the handwriting very well.
“Oh come on, Melissa,” she says, rolling her eyes at me. “It’s only the most well known and super posh bar in all of Pyeongchang.
“Oh,” I say, feeling dumb. “I didn’t know that.”
“Do you even go out?” she asks me. “Like, anywhere beyond the school’s computer lab?”
“Not really.” I shrug.
I go to the occasional opera. I’ve even been to the Odeasan National Park in the cold of winter, when I went snowshoeing with a group from school. But I know that isn’t what she’s asking, and it wouldn’t even impress her.
“Is this note meant for me or you?” she asks me, crinkling up her eyebrows to stare at it. It has no name on it.
“I don’t know,” I say.
My heart races, and I have to admit that I want it to be for me. Sure, I was never one for nightlife or fancy bars, but I wasn’t one to watch sports either, before I spotted Martin. He’s sparked something new and exciting in me, that I want to keep exploring.
“I guess we’ll find out,” Sheila says, sounding annoyed, as we jostle through the crowds.
“Ladies, ladies,” Amy interrupts, that happy smile spreading back across her face. “It’s for both of you. And it’s a good thing. Believe me, a very good thing.”
“What is she talking about?” I ask Sheila, turning to look her straight in the eyes, because I have a feeling she knows exactly what Amy has been hinting at all day, but has been holding out on me because she knows I won’t like it.
“Let’s just say that we weren’t invited here for our conversation-during-Olympic-games-watching skills,” she says, cryptically.
“Huh?” I ask her.
“We were invited here for our looks,” she snaps in a whisper, her eyes darting back and forth at Amy and me, warning me to hush.
“Wait, stop,” I insist. I don’t like that Sheila has left me in the dark about something. “What do you mean? Just tell me. Come on.”
Amy sighs, as if annoyed at having to re-explain everything, and glares at Sheila, as if to say it was her job. And she’d be right about that.
“I explained to your friend Sheila here when I met her that the invitation was to watch the Games, and if any of the athletes takes an interest in you, then you’ll be invited to a special club being hosted at a restaurant.”
“A special club?” I ask, incredulous. Sheila bites her lip, knowing she’s in trouble.
“Yes, it’s called The Exchange Club,” Amy continues. “It’s international. They don’t have a location here in South Korea— at least not yet— but they are temporarily operating here out of a restaurant, since the Olympics are here.”
“Operating what out of a restaurant?” I ask, still confused.
“Look, Melissa,” Sheila blurts out. “It’s a club for rich men and elite athletes and people like that. They have auctions.”
“Auctions?”
“Yes, where women can sell whatever they desire,” Amy says, with a smile. “Not only were you able to watch the Olympics today, but, due to the fact that at least one of the athletes has taken an interest in you, you also have the opportunity to make a lot of money.”
“Doing what?” I ask, so mad at Sheila that I could nearly explode. I can’t believe she would drag me here without filling me in on this. I guess I should believe it, though— that’s a very Sheila-like thing to do.
“Anything you want,” Sheila says. “You can just have dinner with a guy. See if you two hit it off.”
Amy nods her agreement, but she’s raising an eyebrow in a way that suggests that that scenario isn’t very likely. I begin to relax, because I thought that in order to go this restaurant and see Martin again— which I would really like to do— I’d have to sell sex.
And I’ve never even had sex at all. I’m not only a nerd, but also a virgin.
But, if it’s just dinner? My heart races at the possibilities. Maybe Martin and I will hit it off. What’s so wrong with selling myself as a dinner date?
Part of me is screaming that it’s not just a dinner date. Any red blooded male would want more. But that doesn’t mean I’d have to give it to him.
Right?
I don’t even know the limits to reality anymore. Today has been surprising me in lots of ways. Now, I surprise myself by feeling excited at the possibility of being with Martin. My panties dampen and I try not to blush as I think about Martin taking me for my very first time. Of him handling my body the way he does his snowboard. Sometimes it would be like a rough ride full of tricks and turns, and other times, it would be like he was cutting smoothly and expertly through virgin territory.
“Okay,” I agree, resolutely. “Let’s go to this fancy restaurant and see what this whole auction thing is all about.”
“Yay!” Sheila says, hugging me. “I knew you’d agree it was a good idea.”
But her exuberated relief betrays her statement. I hug her back, anyway. She’s right— I need to get out more and have more fun. Why not start with a hot Olympic athlete?
“Okay, I’m glad you ladies have made up, but we have to be on our way now,” Amy says, in a hurry. “We don’t want to miss the main event.”
Finally, we make our way out of the crowds at the slopes and into the busy streets of Pyeongchang. There are locals and tourists everywhere, all there to watch the Olympic games, just as we are.
But I feel like we’re headed somewhere more important than they are. They’re loafing around, doing nothing. I have an Olympic snowboarding star to meet! I hope he’ll introduce himself to me by name. And then, I hope he’ll do a lot more to me than that.
Chapter 3 – Martin
“Way to kill it on the halfpipe,” my team mates Gerald and Kevin say, as we change out of our gear.
“Thanks,” I tell them, trying my best to be grateful and humble, since they didn’t place and I did.
But, if I’m honest with myself, I have to admit that I’m fucking bummed. I thought I had a real chance at gold. I still have the slopestyle to compete in tomorrow, but, it would have been great to go into it knowing I’d already wo
n gold on the halfpipe.
I’d been training my whole life for this, and my chance for one gold medal was gone. I’ll just have to ensure I win gold tomorrow, I resolve.
“Did you guys check out the girls who were watching with Amy?” Gerald says, bringing the conversation to brighter topics.
“Hell yeah,” I say. “I still can’t believe this awesome set up Amy’s offering us.”
“Oh, come on,” Kevin says. “You know there are a lot of perks that come with being here. Competing in the Olympics.”
“Yeah, but I never imagined anything like this,” I respond. “Plus, we still have to pay.”
Gerald nodded but Kevin says, “I don’t know. The same companies who sponsor us will probably foot the bill.
I laugh, wondering if he has a point.
While we were training, Amy had approached us and let us know about the Exchange Club. Sure, there are lots of perks to this job, but I never knew that being able to buy any woman I wanted was one of them. I guess one has to reach fucking Olympic status to get offered that.
At first, I was skeptical, and asked why we’d need to buy a woman when we could have any we wanted, anyway. I had never had a shortage of dates or fuck buddies or booty calls, and, now that I was Olympic athlete caliber, my offers have only increased.
“Oh, you’d be surprised about the reasons a man would want to purchase a lady’s company,” Amy had explained. “In such a scenario, both parties might be willing to do things they never would have thought acceptable otherwise. The financial transaction brings all sorts of possibilities into play.”
I have to admit that that answer had fucking intrigued me. I decided it couldn’t hurt to show up and see what it was all about. Amy had informed us that girls interested in the auction would be sitting in the same section as her on the slopes, and that we should see if there are any we’re interested in. If so, they’d be invited to come to the restaurant where The Exchange Club was holding the auction.
“Well, I liked the curvy blonde in the second row,” I tell Gerald and Kevin now. “She couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off me. And I guess the feeling was mutual.”
“Awww, man,” Gerald groans. “The one with the curls sticking out of her little headband? And those baby blue eyes?”
“That would be her.” Apparently I had chosen a real looker— Kevin was nodding his head as if he, too, knew exactly who we were talking about.
“She was my favorite, too,” Kevin admits.
“Well, geez.” I sigh.
Just my luck. Not only do I fail to win gold, but I’m going to be fighting over the girl I’d gotten excited about inviting to the Exchange Club.
“There were some other good ones,” Gerald says, always one to try to make peace. “Her friend was cute. They were all cute.”
“Yeah,” Kevin admits. “I guess that was a prerequisite to Amy inviting them.”
Suddenly, we’re approached by a man wearing a suit. “Amy requests to know which girls you would like invited to the Exchange,” he says.
“Well, we liked all of them,” Gerald says. “But it seems we all have a preference for the blonde with blue eyes. Her friend is also good, and I assume she’d want to be invited too. And maybe a third one since there are three of us.”
“Yeah,” Kevin agrees. “You can just pick from the others; it doesn’t matter.”
It’s clear we all have our sights set on the same girl, and none other come close.
“I just hope there are no hard feelings,” I say.
“Gentlemen, there’s no need to fight,” the man says. “There are plenty of women to go around. And hopefully plenty of money for bidding, too, because those same two girls have been in high demand today, in terms of requests for invitations.”
“Aww, man,” I groan. I had forgotten that there were others on the team—and others invited to the Exchange Club—aside from just us. “We make good money from sponsorships but we’re not rolling in the dough.”
How would I ever compete with guys who are richer than me? I wondered.
“Well, you could always agree to pitch in the money, and share,” the man said, with a mysterious nod, before he walks away.
“What the fuck did he just say?” I ask.
“It appears he suggested we share our favorite girl,” Kevin says. “Can you believe it?”
“I guess it’s not such a bad idea,” Gerald says. “We all like her best. And we might not even have enough money to buy a girl each.”
I stare at him, dumbfounded that he’s considering it. And yet, I realize they have some good points.
“Yeah, we don’t know how much money we’re talking here,” Kevin says.
Hmmm. They’re my best friends. My team mates. My training partners. My support network. I’ve shared everything with them except a girl.
On the one hand, I can’t imagine passing around that sweet little curvy ass. I remember how she looked at me and how much I wanted to take her. On the other hand, if it meant sharing her was the only way, I would make that compromise just to have her.
Plus, as Amy had pointed out, the financial transaction part of the deal made things interesting. Normally a girl would probably think I was a freak or a creep if I wanted to have an orgy of sorts. But for money? Why not? It seemed a reasonable request… the type of thing that money could buy.
“Let’s just see what happens,” Kevin suggests, as we head out of the locker room and get ready to go to the restaurant. “This will be nothing if not exciting.”
Nothing if not exciting, indeed.
Chapter 4 – Melissa
I follow Sheila and Amy to the Hanwootown, which turns out to be a pretty chill hole in the wall type of restaurant and bar. Local musicians are playing a modernized version of traditional Korean folk music, or “trot.”
Also, there are plenty of options for delicious local cuisine: Kimchi (Fermented Vegetable), Ddukbokkie (Spicy Rice Cake), Bibimbap (Mixed Rice), Hoeddeok (Sweet Syrupy Pancakes), Bulgogi (Marinated Beef Barbecue) and Japchae (Stir Fried Noodles).
Sheila doesn’t know what half the menu means, nor does she know what type of music is being played, so I explain it all to her, thanks to the South Korea culture course I’d taken before we arrived in the country. I don’t think Sheila has ever been to this restaurant. She had probably only heard of it vaguely and was probably just guessing at what kind of place it was.
“Why hello there,” says a voice behind us, and I turn around to see Martin Schmidt, up close and personal.
My heart starts fluttering as I look into his handsome brown eyes and then even more so as I lower them to his toned, strong looking chest. I can practically feel juices dripping out of my pussy, as it clenches together and begs him to do something to relieve its tension.
“Oh my God, it’s you,” I say. He’s even hotter in person. But I can’t believe I just let on to how hot I think he is. So, I follow up with a quick, “Hi. Hello. I’m Melissa.”
“Hi Melissa.”
He’s with two guys who are nearly as handsome as he is, and he introduces me to them as Gerald and Kevin. Kevin has kind eyes and Gerald’s smile is dashing. I’m beginning to feel as if I’m cheating on Martin by admiring his friends. Which makes no sense, since we’re not together.
“I’m Sheila,” Sheila says, elbowing me and no doubt intending that not so subtle signal to mean, Pull yourself together. Or maybe, Make room for me. Don’t forget about me—introduce me too. Probably some combination of both.
But I can’t stop staring at Martin’s muscles. On his arms, his legs, and even his abs and chest, through his shirt. He’s so hot that he sells me on the benefits of athleticism. He smells like snow mixed with pine mixed with Soju— Korean liquor.
“I ordered you these drinks,” he says, and passes two martini glasses to us.
The drinks are neon green, and the glasses are very large.
“Thanks,” I say, and Sheila and I eye each other, still not knowing who the note was intended
for.
Maybe both of us, by the looks of things.
I start to sip my drink, but Martin quickly says, “Let’s drink in the enclosed rooftop bar, shall we? We can take a walk around up there, and talk where it isn’t so loud.”
“Sure,” I quickly say, even though I was enjoying the music.
But I’m enjoying the view of Martin a heck of a lot more.
When we’re on the rooftop bar, it becomes quite clear that this is where the auction will be held. There’s a stage, and Amy is running around getting the microphone and speakers set up.
“This is the rest of the team,” Martin says, his hand outstretched to include everyone. “They all wanted to meet you guys.”
“Hi there,” says Sheila, but I just blush.
How could they want to meet us? I think. This is crazy.
I tell my head to shut up while my body takes over. I nod my head, smile, and say, “Hi” as well.
“So, what are you guys doing in Pyeongchang?” Gerald asks us.
“Studying,” Sheila answers, looking bored.
“Studying what?” Kevin asks.
“Journalism. And the South Korean economy,” I answer.
“Interesting,” Kevin says, and he does look genuinely interested. “What topic, specifically?”
“Well, lately I’ve been researching why, despite the fact that the Korean economy was able to gain strength in the 60s and 70s, its growth has been impeded,” I answer.
“Ugh, there you go slipping into nerd mode,” Sheila complains.
“Hey,” Kevin says, cutting her off. “I want to hear what she’s saying.”
“Me too,” Gerald joins in, and Martin is nodding his head enthusiastically as well.
Sheila doesn’t interrupt again, but she sighs and acts annoyed. I know she’s just bothered that I’m getting all the attention. I have to admit that it feels good to have three pairs of eyes on me, three pairs of ears hanging onto every word.
They seem to enjoy sharing me. And I’m starting to think I enjoy it, too. A girl could get used to having three guys all to herself— that’s for sure.
Sold on the Beach_A Reverse Harem Romance Page 7
