Olivia Brynn Collection Volume 1

by Brynn, Olivia

  Her long dark hair had been pulled over her far shoulder, exposing the smooth skin of her back. Nick’s body stirred. When he’d all but memorized the picture, his eyes dropped to read the article below.

  Virginity For Sale.

  What?

  He read it again. The newspaper had put opposing sides of the controversial auction into the article. The outspoken Reverend Mason, who seemed to be more in the news than behind the pulpit, had declared Reenie O’Hara’s intentions as an abomination against the Lord, and the sanctity of marriage.

  “Although Nevada law allows the prostitution of young ladies, I can only assure you that Miss O’Hara will be judged for her actions, along with each and every bidder in this travesty. I pity her, but offer her a place with the Lord. Salvation will be hers, and I pray that she comes to her senses before following through with this sinful transaction.”

  Lottie Davis, owner and operator of Lottie’s Place, Vegas’ famous upscale brothel spoke for Miss O’Hara.

  “Reenie O’Hara is a grown woman, well past the age of consent. Girls have been giving away their virginity since the dawn of time. Most commonly in the back seat of a boyfriend’s car. In this day and age, when a woman’s virginity is devalued, I applaud Miss O’Hara her ability to remain intact, and her business acumen to see her virginity for what it is. A rare and valuable commodity.”

  Nicholas set the paper aside. The woman was beautiful. It probably wasn’t the same woman that the winner would be saddled with. There was always a catch.

  But who was she? Another one of Lottie Davis’ girls? He hadn’t visited Lottie’s Place in years. He was lucky enough to have enough women at his disposal, and hadn’t found it necessary to pay for his pleasure.

  He finished his bagel, and dusted off his fingers. His gaze kept drifting to the photo of the young woman. Those green eyes seemed to be looking right at him. He laughed. A good photographer, that’s what that was. He tossed his napkin on the table and stood. He almost made it to the sliding glass doors before he turned around and snatched the newspaper off the table.

  * * * * *

  Maureen looked through the slit in the curtains. The crowd of reporters had been camped out on the front sidewalk since the day after her internet campaign began almost two weeks ago.

  Lottie had received numerous calls and letters, asking for an interview with the famous virgin. Maureen had declined each one. She didn’t want to stick out in the public’s mind any more than she really had to. She was in front of the camera enough. The sharks would just have to live with what they had. She still planned to quietly disappear once this was all over with.

  Maureen had secluded herself in Lottie’s house, only leaving on rare occasions, and never through the front door. Lottie had a beautiful private garden, where Maureen spent hours among the foliage. She found a perfect little cove where she could relax with a book, and breathe in the perfume of pansies and clover. If she wore her hair up and went without makeup, she could even go to a movie or wander through the shopping mall for a while before being recognized.

  It wasn’t so bad. Her deadline was in two weeks, she could stand it until then. She only hoped that the press would leave her alone afterwards.

  She wandered back through the quiet room and sank onto the couch. The press had grabbed the story and run. In her wildest dreams Maureen hadn’t imagined such a fuss over her decision.

  One hundred and six thousand dollars. At least that’s where the bidding was the last time she checked. Who in God’s name had that kind of money to buy one night of sex with a complete stranger? Just yesterday it was fifteen thousand. If the press only knew how they were helping her cause by the free publicity.

  A hundred grand would almost be enough to pay the tax lien and note of foreclosure on her mother’s home.

  Almost. And it wasn’t hers quite yet.

  “Reenie, let’s go.” Lottie’s voice came through the door like a barking Pomeranian.

  “Go where?” Maureen barked back through a smile.

  “Dinner. Dress up.”

  Maureen cast another disparaging glance at the curtain, which blocked her view of the press, then crossed the room to open the door to find Lottie dressed in a conservative black dress, and draped with a shimmering scarf. “Come on, honey. Let’s go somewhere nice.”

  “I’d love to get out. I’ll do my hair if you pick a dress for me.”

  Half an hour later, dressed to kill, but hiding behind a pair of eyeglasses, Lottie had smuggled Maureen into a dark limousine and past the flashing cameras. Maureen surreptitiously checked over her shoulder to ensure they weren’t being followed.

  “I made a reservation at Tito’s. No one will bother us there.”

  Tito’s was one of the better restaurants in town. Reservations were required at least a month in advance. All of Vegas’ celebrities, both local and world renowned, were comfortable in the unassuming luxury of the five star establishment. Lottie was one of the celebrities that could wheedle a reservation at the last minute from Tito’s management. Maureen discovered it was always best not to ask about Lottie’s clientele, but she assumed Tito himself probably made frequent visits to Lottie’s Place.

  The maître d’ barely swept his eyes over the two women, and if he knew who they were, he didn’t acknowledge the fact. They were seated in a secluded corner, with a window overlooking the bright lights of the strip. A clear vase with two pink roses and baby’s breath sat in the center of the table, and she leaned over them to enjoy their scent. Roses always reminded her of her grandmother, who used tiny rose-shaped soap in little rose-shaped dishes. She couldn’t resist arranging the baby’s breath to look more appealing among the blooms.

  “Will you relax? Anyone in here who knows who you are and what you’re doing with me isn’t going to approach you here.” Lottie whispered.

  She must have taken too long to fidget with the flowers before sitting still in her seat. She folded her hands in her lap. “I know. I just keep waiting for the flash of a camera.” It had been only two weeks into her notoriety, and already Maureen could see how the A-list could go completely batty out in public.

  Lottie ordered an expensive vintage to start off their meal. They’d each drained two glasses before their order was even taken. When a basket of bread appeared on the table before them, they’d both already mellowed from the effect of the smooth wine, and laughed easily.

  “You should have seen the look on Jeannette’s face when she saw that scorpion. I’ve never seen anyone jump that high off the ground.”

  “She’s from the Rocky Mountains isn’t she? There aren’t many scorpions up there I gather.” Maureen blotted her mouth with the linen napkin.

  “No I suppose not. I think she might have peed her—”

  “Miss Davis, you look ravishing tonight, as usual.”

  Lottie’s pink mouth snapped shut when the deep voice interrupted her. Maureen shifted in her chair, still smiling from Lottie’s story to find a man standing between them. Black suit pants looked tailored to fit powerful legs and slim hips. She dragged her gaze up the broad chest to meet a pair of coffee-colored eyes.

  “Oh, Nick, I can always count on you to shower me with false flattery.” Lottie placed her hand in his in a familiar gesture. “Nicholas Webster, this is my niece.”

  Don’t call me Reenie, don’t call me Reenie.

  “Maureen Sullivan.”

  Maureen cast a grateful glance at Lottie before smiling up into Nicholas Webster’s chiseled face.

  “Miss Sullivan.” His voice was as smooth and intoxicating as their chardonnay.

  “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Webster.” Maureen took his proffered hand. When he brought her knuckles to his mouth, she bit her lip.

  Nicholas then lowered his lean frame to rest on his heels. “I heard something about you on the news,” he addressed Lottie. “Are you really auctioning off a virgin?”

  Maureen flushed to the roots of her hair. She reached over the bread plate for her glass
of wine.

  “Yes I am Nick. Are you interested?” Lottie grinned devilishly.

  “I’m not sure I’ll be able to afford her when it’s all over. I heard the bidding already reached a hundred thousand.”

  “A hundred seven when I last checked. For you I’d work out a payment system.” Lottie giggled.

  Good lord, another thousand?

  Nicholas laughed, a delicious sound, which practically seeped through Maureen’s clothing, to caress her skin. As he spoke to Lottie, she wondered what it would be like to be deflowered by a man such as Nicholas Webster. Her thoughts drew her gaze to the man’s crotch, and she looked away quickly before he caught her checking out his package. As if her thoughts summoned him, he turned to her and nudged her elbow with one long finger.

  “Can you believe this woman?”

  “Yes I can.” Maureen gave Lottie an affectionate smile. “She’s the best businesswoman I’ve ever met.”

  “That she is.” Nick’s eyes were all over her. Maureen was suddenly worried that he knew who she was. She turned away, and took another long drink from her glass.

  “Nick is the man I was telling you about, Maureen. The one who helps my girls with their retirement and financial advising.”

  “Oh yes,” Maureen said, “You’re a veritable hero.”

  “Is that right?” He grinned, showing a set of straight white teeth. Maureen had a mad impulse to run her tongue across them. “I’ll be sure and tell all the guys that I’m a veritable hero at Lottie’s Place. That should earn me some points.”

  “Maureen, you might take Nick’s business card. You’re going to have to get some kind of help with your inheritance.”

  “My…”

  Lottie’s raised an eyebrow in warning.

  “Oh, right. I will need some advice. Are you accepting new clients Mr. Webster?”

  “Please, call me Nick. I’ll be happy to help. What do you do?”

  “I…well, I just got my bachelor’s degree,” she stammered. “I thought I’d come out here and spend a month or two with Aunt Lottie before taking the plunge into a career.”

  Nicholas reached into his suit pocket for a business card. “Since you’re new in town, I’ll have to start by buying you a drink downtown on Friday, so I’ll need your phone number.” He pulled out a pen from the inside pocket.

  “Oh, is that how it works?” Maureen smiled.

  “Ask your aunt. It’s a policy of mine.” His face was set in a guileless smile, but a quick glance at Lottie didn’t give anything away.

  “And if I were a man?” she teased.

  “I’d assign you to one of my colleagues.” He grinned naughtily. “Now please. I left a very important and very wealthy client at my table all alone, just so that I could come over here to get your phone number. You aren’t going to make me go back without it are you?” Maureen looked over Nick’s shoulder at the table he’d motioned towards. There was a stocky grey haired man looking at his watch with impatience.

  “I would hate myself tomorrow.” She said, with mock seriousness. She scrawled her phone number on the back of his card and handed both the card and pen back to him.

  “Thank you, Maureen. I’ll be in touch.”

  She all but turned in her seat to watch him return to his table. He was tall. His body was trim and firm, his gait controlled yet loose. She’d never before undressed a man with her eyes, but she could practically see the smooth muscles rippling beneath his skin.

  “Now that’s the kind of man you should end up with.” Lottie sighed. “Isn’t he decadent?”

  Maureen agreed. Decadent was a good word to describe Nicholas Webster. Lottie and Maureen weren’t the only women who seemed to agree. Several female patrons gave the man a once-over.

  The rest of the meal passed without incident. If anyone else in the restaurant that recognized either Lottie or Maureen, they didn’t approach them. During dessert, Maureen glanced over her shoulder to look Nick’s way, but unfortunately, she found his table had already been cleared.

  She fell into bed that night feeling better than she had in a long time, knowing the burden of her mother’s finances would soon be off of her shoulders.

  Immediately, a flash of anger warmed her blood. Her mother had made her bed, and she should sleep in it. Why should Maureen even worry? To think that the entire time Janet Sullivan had been preaching about responsibility, she herself hadn’t paid one red cent in property taxes, and then let her mortgage payments fall so far behind that foreclosure was now eminent. Maureen’s stomach rolled at the thought. Mom probably skipped the payments while helping her daughter through college.

  Guilt cooled her anger.

  All the more reason to take whatever steps necessary to help her mother out of the situation. They were a team. Had been since Maureen could understand the hardships her mother went through as a single mom. No reason to be angry.

  Maureen sighed. Thoughts of her mother always left her conflicted. She couldn’t wait until this whole ordeal was behind them, and they’d have a clean slate to begin again. Surely there was something more appealing to think about.

  Nicholas Webster.

  She grinned into her pillow. She never did get his business card. Would he call her? Would he really invite her out for a drink? What would she say? Could she go out in public and risk recognition when she was with him? Lottie’s Place had a bar, maybe he would be willing to meet her here.

  But she’d have to come up with a damn good reason why she didn’t want to leave the property. That thought conjured another disturbing question. Had he been here before? Who knew, maybe he was one of Lottie’s better clients.

  Maureen could picture him with one of Lottie’s girls. She imagined his naked body moving over a woman. Shoving that thought away, she closed her eyes and saw Nick’s hands on her. He’d move down to grip her nipple with his teeth, then he would suck the hard nub into his mouth.

  Maureen groaned. She felt moisture rush to her sex. The hands she imagined sliding over her abdomen were strong and lean. To sharpen her vision, Maureen tore her nightshirt over her head, then kicked her panties away, then indulged herself by sliding her own hand down her naked body. Images of Nick’s devilish smile and sexy backside flashed through her mind, along with erotic pictures of his tongue licking at her wet core.

  She knew his hands would know how to please her. She fingered her engorged clit, then dipped her middle finger up into her hot creamy center. She swirled the slipperiness along her outer lips. A shiver buzzed down her spine.

  Soon. Soon she’d know how it felt to have a man inside her, stroking her deeply. That reminder sent another shiver through her body, and she quickened her movements. Pulling her legs up, she spread her knees apart and bit back a hungry moan. Maureen worked her clit with one hand, swirling and tugging, and twisting her nipples with the other.

  What would Nick feel like? Was he thick? Or long. Would he stretch her? Her body jerked, then her pussy spasmed, clamping at nothing but emptiness. Maureen couldn’t wait to know what that frantic grasping felt like around a man’s cock. Nick’s cock.

  Oh God. She shuddered, reaching her pinnacle at the thought of him inside her. Her channel undulated in waves, and she rubbed herself until the last contraction ebbed away, then she lay still allowing the air conditioning to cool her fevered skin.

  Not long after her heartbeat returned to normal, she fell asleep with a satisfied smile.

  * * * * *

  “When should I pick you up?”

  Few people knew her cell phone number, even fewer had hinted at a night out. She knew exactly who had called her, but she couldn’t let him know that. She also needed some time to steady her racing heart.

  “Who’s this?” She tried not to let her smile come through her voice. There was a long pause on the other end.

  “Did you agree to more than one date tonight?”

  “Well, I can’t be sure.” She lay back onto her bed, throwing her free arm over her head. “Is this the
seventy-five year old gymnast?”

  “Guess again.” She heard his smile.

  “Are you the man who’s been breathing heavy in my ear every Friday since I got to Vegas?”

  “I’m the man who’s going to make you a very wealthy woman.”

  Maureen bolted upright. What did he mean by that? Did he know who she was? Her heart beat loudly, its pressure pounded in her eardrums. Aside from the fact that she didn’t want this man to know about her upcoming prostitution stint, she wondered if he intended to make the final bid.

  “What do you mean?” Her voice sounded as thin as tissue paper.

  “Your investment strategy, or did you find yourself another advisor?”

  She released a pent up breath, and tried to clear her mind. “Oh, well I’ve got one final interview before I make my decision.”

  “Which brings me back to my original question. When should I pick you up?”

  “Why don’t I meet you somewhere? Lottie’s Place is a bit of a circus right now.”

  “The virgin thing?”

  “Yeah, the virgin thing.”

  “I don’t mind—”

  “No,” she said emphatically, then softened her tone. “I’ll meet you.”

  Two hours later, and now ten minutes late, Maureen found a parking space in a public lot not far from the lounge he’d chosen. She found him pacing beneath the awning. She stood in the shadow of a decorative tree for a moment to watch him.

  He was breathtakingly good looking. The angled planes of his face shone in the lone streetlight, casting intriguing shadows. He was dressed in casual khaki trousers, and a white Swiss army shirt beneath a brown leather jacket. She pushed her eyeglasses into position onto her nose. She hated wearing them, but they afforded her just a little bit of protection. Okay, she was no Clark Kent, but she was wearing them when she met him, and would continue to wear them until her mission was complete.

  “Sorry I’m late.” She stepped out of the darkness. He stopped pacing and looked up at her. The relief in his smile made her ask, “Did you think I wouldn’t show?”