by Riley, Alexa
BUY ME
by
Alexa Riley
Contents
BUY ME
Copyright
Dedication
Welcome
1. STELLA
2. AARON
3. JUSTIN
4. STELLA
5. AARON
6. JUSTIN
7. STELLA
8. JUSTIN
9. STELLA
10. JUSTIN
11. AARON
12. STELLA
13. JUSTIN
Epilogue
The Virgin Duet
Also by Alexa Riley
Stalk the Author
BUY ME
The Cortez brothers have found the one, and they’ll do anything to own her…including buying her.
Their obsession has driven them to the point of deceit, but they didn’t get to where they are today without getting their hands dirty to get what they wanted, and they’ll do anything to have her.
Stella is desperate, and selling her virginity is her only option to save the family land. The Mistress Auction is her last hope, but when she sees the two men who buy her, she’s worried her heart won’t make it through the thirty days.
Warning: This ménage has two consumed brothers, a virgin selling her body, a Vegas casino, and a reality TV star trying to cause a scene.
Author note: Totally responsible for turning you on.
BUY ME by Alexa Riley
Copyright © 2015 by Alexa Riley. All rights reserved.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to [email protected]
http://alexariley.com/
Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Edited by Aquila Editing
To Neda at Ardent Prose
Your support, encouragement, and motivation were there when I needed it most.
Thank You
1
STELLA
“No, try the white or cream nightie and tone down the makeup. She looks more like a showgirl than an innocent virgin.” The woman named Samantha is barking orders at the girl who is getting me ready. The assistant hops to and races off to find the right outfit, her long, curly red hair bouncing behind her.
I cringe inwardly at the comment. I'm not sure I want to look like a showgirl or an innocent virgin, but what choice do I really have? I’ll do whatever will get me the most money at this point. I've made my bed and now I have to lie in it. Figuratively and literally. Maybe it wasn’t me exactly who made the bed, but I sure helped tuck myself right into it. If I’m doing this, I might as well get all I can out of it. If switching out a nightie and playing up my virginity will do that, then that’s what I’m going to do.
“She's right.” At her words, I look over to the woman standing at the station next to me. She most definitely looks like a showgirl, but I'm pretty sure that's what she's going for. “Innocent virgin will get you a whole lot more money.” She winks at me and starts applying more lipstick to her already very red, plump lips. The lipstick makes her big blue eyes pop, and I can’t help but be envious of how utterly gorgeous she is. It’s like she stepped right off the pages of Maxim magazine. She has to be at least five feet nine, and if she wears the heels she has sitting on the ground next to her, she’ll be well over six feet and almost all legs. Her shoes look like they cost a couple thousand dollars, making me wonder why she’s even here if she can afford shoes like that.
Slipping off the topaz dress, I examine the white nightie the redhead brought back.
“How much more?” I ask, unable to help myself. I need a hundred grand for this to actually be worth it. That’s the amount that will keep my father from losing our land, which he so easily gambled away. A piece of land that my mom fought to keep alive, gone after one poker game my father should’ve never been in. How could he be so stupid? Or does he just not care? I wonder what he’d think if he knew what I was doing to get the money back. I’m sure he’ll find out soon enough, when I’m not home in the morning. Come tomorrow, I’ll be owned by some random man and I’ll no longer be a virgin.
“Hmm.” She stops applying her lipstick, giving me a full once over. “Virgin, right?”
I nod my head, wondering if it’s that easy to spot a virgin. Is there, like, a sign on my forehead that I’m not seeing?
She gives me a wicked smile. “They always go to the highest bidder, and you’ve got the whole ‘innocent’ thing going too. Men eat that shit up. I'd say at least two hundred thousand.”
I'm sure my eyes bug out, because she laughs at my response.
“I'm Kim.” She reaches her hand out and shakes mine. She’s got such soft skin and her nails are perfectly polished. I look her over. She’s so put together she looks like she’s not entirely real.
“Stella,” I reply.
“I gather that, as you’re a virgin, this is your first time at the Mistress Auction?” She arches an eyebrow at me, a half-smile playing across her red lips.
“All around virgin you could say.” I try to joke to help with some of the fear snaking up my spine. It’s an eerie feeling, knowing there is a group of men not far away, waiting to buy my body. Waiting to buy me.
“This is my fourth. The same guy just keeps buying me. When our contract is up, I always come back, and each time I go up he buys me again.”
I can't tell by her tone if she likes that or not. “Sounds kinda sweet in a weird kind of way. Why not just go ahead and extend your contract with him?”
Each person who is bought as a mistress is locked into thirty-day contract. You get half your money up front and the other half when the thirty days are over. The buyer has to pay an additional ten percent to the house so the mistress isn’t responsible for fees. That’s what I gathered from the mountains of paperwork, non-disclosures, and extensive medical exams I had to endure to enter into the Mistress Auction. If it wasn't for all of that, I’m not sure I would be doing it. Everything seems to be done to protect everyone, and though I’m desperate, I’m not willing to risk my life. When your contract is up, you can enter into a longer Mistress agreement at a newly negotiated price with your current buyer, but if it wasn't a good fit you’re able to enter the Mistress Auction again if you like. I didn't want to be anyone’s mistress, though the perks do seem rather nice. Your every need will be met, and your only requirement is to be ready and willing when your buyer comes knocking on the door of wherever he’s put you. I want to be more than someone’s property, so I know this will be my one and only auction. When the contract’s up, I’ll be going my own way.
“Got to keep him on his toes,” Kim says, breaking into my thoughts. She gives me a wink like I should know what that means. It all seems a little silly to me, but now I know how she afforded the expensive shoes.
“What if he doesn’t bid on you?” She seems so confident, but I guess if I looked like she did I would be too.
“Oh, he will. Men love a good chase, and I love being chased. I think it’s just part of our game now, and Samantha doesn't seem to care. She keeps getting her ten percent, and we keep having a good time.” It’s then I see something like a twinkle in her eyes.
“And if someone else outbids him and wins you?”
“On
e thing I can tell you about the men out there is Samantha knows what she’s doing. She makes sure the girls being auctioned off are high quality, and ensures bidders are of an equally high standard”
The word ‘quality’ makes my stomach turn. It’s almost like I’m at a cattle auction or something. If the men out there are such great catches, what are they doing here?
“If these men are so good why can’t they find women on their own? I know why I’m doing this; I need the money. But I’m sure if they’re rich enough to spend fifty thousand dollars on a mistress for a month, they could easily find a woman on their own who wouldn’t cost them so much.”
“You really are quite innocent aren't you?” The way she says it doesn't seem mean or hateful, more like she’s come to a realization. “Likely most men would end up paying the same price either way. Gifts, dinners, and trying to get a woman into bed, it adds up. Here, things are simple and to the point and wrapped up rather nicely. They don’t have to worry about missing a date with you or calling you every day. They can come and go as they please, and we aren’t supposed to question that. Everyone here knows what they’re getting, and this isn't necessarily about finding love. You’re about to be bid on by some the richest and most powerful men in the world. They like discreet, and Samantha makes sure they get that.”
Adjusting the straps of the white nightie, I look into the full-length mirror. I look...sexy. Not something I ever really think when I look at myself. I’m more a jeans, shirt, and cowboy boots kind of girl. I like functional and comfortable.
My black hair hangs in waves down my back, almost to my ass. I actually forgot how long it really was because I always keep it in a ponytail and out of my face. The eye make-up Red put on me makes my silver eyes seem to shine, and whatever she put on my lips makes them look plump and full. Maybe they’re that way on their own and the lipstick makes them more noticeable. I see myself in the mirror but it doesn't feel like me.
I grew up working on our farm on the outskirts of Las Vegas, manly raising sheep and a few hogs. I wonder if whoever buys me will have me accompany them to events or if I’ll just be stored away in a condo somewhere. I know nothing about going to formal events, or even wearing heels. I could possibly kill myself in them.
I wanted to go to school, but I had to do my part since my mother passed away three years ago. I realized over time that she took so much more with her than just herself when she died. The farm has slowly been slipping through my fingers. It’s hard keeping a farm functional in the desert, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t hold on to it. My father talked me into not going to college, saying he needed all the help he could get, and once it was all settled, I could try to enroll. I just couldn't say no. He’d always bring up my mother and talk about how hard things were now that she’s gone.
I'm second guessing myself and this decision as I wonder if I'm just delaying the inevitable downfall of the family farm.
I shake off the negative thought. I can use this money to pay off the farm loan he owes the casino or I can use it to start somewhere fresh. Or maybe, just maybe, I can get enough to do both. Pay off the loan, wipe my hands clean of everything, and move on.
My father keeps dragging himself into the city every night to gamble and drink until he can't even walk. I have to go pick him up at least four times a week, and oftentimes I need help getting him out to the car. He’s a big man, and I’m barely five feet four. I may weigh a little more than I should, but that sure isn't muscle adding to the pounds. All my extra weight seems to go to my ass, hips, and boobs, and that does nothing to help me. The last time I had to go get him was the worst. He didn't have the money to pay for the private poker tournament he’d entered, and the debt needed to be paid or they'd be taking the farm. I‘d been busting my ass trying to keep that place from the bank to begin with, barely making ends meet, and my father just pissed it all away in one night like it was nothing. Like we didn't have other families who also depended on that farm to make a living. He didn’t think about the salaries we needed to cover, and that it wasn't just about us. If the farm was only about us, I’d have left years ago.
I was just thankful it wasn't the Cortez Casino that I got the call from this time. Maybe he wasn't even allowed there anymore, because it had been a while since I'd gone there to get him. Each time was more humiliating than the last. The owners, Aaron and Justin Cortez, always looked at me with sad eyes, then it would follow with one of them asking me to dinner in one of the fancy restaurants they had at their casino. They would openly hit on me in front of each other, and I was starting to think it was a game for them to see who could get to me first. I had no plans to do anything with either of them. They’re the richest men in the city and have a reputation that goes with that. I didn't need their pity or to be a part of any games they were playing. I didn’t understand what they were getting at, but I didn’t have time for it. They’d ask if I needed someone to talk to, and hell, I probably did. Over the years my friends seemed to slowly drop off one by one. Some going away to college and others frustrated with the lack of time I had to spare to hang out with them. But I didn’t want the Cortez brothers pitying me, and I didn’t need their charity, I needed a father who could pull it together. I didn’t have anything other than the farm, and it’s probably why I’m still a freaking virgin.
I wasn't trying to save it, but I wanted to give it to someone I loved, and if you're too busy working, you sure aren’t going to find time for silly things like love. There is no one even close to my age at the farm. I spent most of my days with Tim, who just mainly grunts his responses. He puts just as much work into the farm as I do, working hard for his own family. I don’t think I could handle things without him, but I know if we don’t start turning a better profit that I could end up losing him.
“So what do think?” I ask, looking at Kim through the mirror. She’s clearly a pro at this, and I’ll take any advice she can give me.
“You look like you're going to make a killing.” She winks at me again, and then goes back to fluffing her hair.
The double doors burst open, and Samantha comes strutting into the dressing room. She checks over all the girls one by one, her redheaded assistant running around, frantically trying to make sure it all looks perfect for her. Samantha’s quite interesting to watch; I can’t help but be in awe of her and this business she’s built. I feel like there’s a really good story there, but I’m sure with the kind of secrets she keeps, she’d never tell it. She’s stunning and looks almost like a Stepford wife, but I don't see a ring on her finger. Her shiny blonde hair is pulled back into a perfect chignon with not a strand out of place. She has very little make-up on, and her outfit, though just a simple black dress, looks like it cost more than I can imagine. She oozes class and sophistication, which is odd because she’s basically running a high-class prostitution service, if you were to call it what it really is.
Meeting Samantha was a stroke of luck. She was at the private poker game when I came to get my father. I'm guessing she was there to get business from the high rollers for the Mistress Auctions. When she saw me, and the bind I was in, she pulled me to the side and told me how she could help.
She said if I met all the requirements, I’d go up on the auction block and would be given to the highest bidder. She collects a percentage of all sales, but insisted there were lots of rules and guidelines to protect everyone. She told me a few of the rules that first night, and the one that stuck out the most was the virgin clause.
In the agreement, virgins must have their first coupling on the property right after purchase. Maybe they wanted to be sure the girl was really a virgin, but I thought the extensive physical should have proved that. Either way, that rule stuck out in my mind because I knew once the hammer went down on ‘sold’, it was time to pay up and put out. The thought terrified me, and I tried not to dwell on it. If I did, I’d be out the door in three seconds flat.
Samantha looks over all the girls, inspecting every detail, and when she
gets to me she stops. She looks me up and down and nods. “You’re first.” Her smile is wicked, and she seems a little smug. “You're going to make me a fucking killing. I’m thinking those two would pay anything.”
I give her a questioning look, thinking someone is already set to bid on me. Maybe they gave out our pictures when people first arrived or something.
“I should’ve put in a decoy to jack up the price,” she mumbles, clearly talking to herself as she walks away.
“Drink it,” Kim says, shoving a glass of champagne in my face.
“I’m not old enough.” I push the glass back from my face, needing to keep my head straight tonight.
“Yeah well, it’s not really legal to sell your virginity either, but here you are. Drink it. It’ll help calm your nerves. You look like you might pass out.”
She’s right. The time has come, and I do feel a little faint. Part of me wants to flee the room, but I’m not sure I can move my feet right now. I take the glass from her hand and drink it in three big gulps. It’s crisp and extra cold, making my eyes water for a second. I take a breath, and I do feel a little better by the time the drink hits my stomach.
“Let’s go.” Samantha’s assistant takes my wrist and pulls me down the short hallway with Samantha leading the way.
I look back over my shoulder, and see Kim mouth ‘good luck’ at me, and I turn back around, trying to keep my feet from tripping over nothing. We stop short of a thick black curtain, and I suddenly feel like I’m in The Wizard of Oz, wondering what’s sitting on the other side of the curtain. I’m definitely not in Kansas anymore.
Red places me dead center in front of the curtain, and then backs herself off to the side. Samantha walks over and pulls some of my dark curls over one shoulder, but makes sure they’re not covering my breasts. The white nightie hides nothing at all, sheer fabric from my breasts down to my mons. Red tried to get me to put a thong on, but I told her it wouldn't look too hot if I was picking my ass the whole time I was on stage. The compromise was no underwear, so I’m sure whoever is on the other side of the curtain is about to see all of me. I feel a chill, and the cold champagne I drank so fast has turned my nipples rock hard, making them easy to see through the thin fabric.