“So, what’s the next step in the selection process?” he asked, forcing himself to stay on topic.
“You said there’s one more prospect, right?”
“Yes. Very bright and ambitious young guy. He works at a different farm, so we’ll drive there tomorrow.”
“So after we talk to all these guys, we choose one and offer them a deal.”
“All right.” He took another sip of alcohol. “Did you bring the confidentiality agreements?” The document would be beyond handy. He didn’t need his employees worried that their boss would start scouting them for auctions. In fact, if the chosen man had any brains, he wouldn’t tell anyone—and maybe, if Brooks got what he needed from her within the month, the auction wouldn’t even take place.
“Yes, I have them with me. It’ll be critical to have control of the situation.”
“Did you ever have to do much convincing?” he said, thinking of Pamela. Why would a smart woman like her apply to be the main protagonist of a virgin auction? It’s my fault. When they’d had their last disagreement, months after her mother’s untimely death, Pamela had carried a lot of bitterness. He should have understood her when she’d blamed him for her shitty life. She’d been hurt and alone. Instead, he’d played the tough love game and reminded her he’d done all he could for her—offered to pay for her college which she’d dropped out of because she hadn’t felt it was for her. He’d tried to help her, but impulsive as shit, she’d never followed his advice. Still. He’d let their last disagreement linger for too long, and while he’d given her space, she’d made the wrong decision that had cost her life.
“I don’t search for women to sell their virginity, or bully them into it, Mr. Taylor,” she snapped, no doubt emphasizing his surname to put him in his place. “They come to me and do it because they want better lives. They make enough money to go to college, pay off their debts, and build a life for themselves.”
“Sounds so altruistic,” he said, sarcasm lacing his voice before he could stop himself.
“They could lose their virginity to the boy next door or the high school sweetheart who’ll turn out to be an alcoholic prick ten years later. Or they can be in charge of their lives and leverage their coveted hymen.”
“That’s your style. No twisting arms?”
“Never. Will I be persuasive when I try to sell the idea to the man we choose? Yes. But I’d never waste my time with someone who’s not cut out for this or who double guesses the concept. Gives me more work down the line.”
He finished his drink, pouring some more immediately after. Was this part of her spiel, or did she really not act in a dishonest way to conduct her business? Sooner or later, he’d find out—and he’d have to deal with the consequences.
…
Alexa chugged the rest of the wine, enjoying every drop of the lush drink. “You know, I can’t shake the feeling that you don’t approve of what I do. Not that I need your approval, but how can you do business with me if you’re so conflicted about it?” Her stomach curled, the rush from the alcohol still stirring her blood. If this was a joke to him, he should tell her now. She had no time to waste.
During dinner, he’d asked her questions, but a pang of accusation or veiled criticism lurked in the air like puffs of cigar smoke. It was like he was trying very hard to hide his real opinion.
He tilted his head to the side, his expression growing more serious. “I’m asking you questions because I need to know what to tell people. I’ll come across people who love the idea and some who hate it—and I need your level of knowledge to deal with them.”
She played with the edge of the empty wineglass, but when he lifted the bottle to pour some more, she withdrew her glass. She didn’t need to feel any looser around this man. “All right.”
“I apologize for making you feel uncomfortable,” he said, a gleam of honesty flickering in his eyes.
“It’s okay. Sometimes I’m too defensive.”
“You can be yourself around me, Alexa,” he said in a dangerously genuine voice.
She drew in a breath, and when she let it out, a lump formed in her throat. An agony built inside, welling within her, filling and emptying her at the same time. You can be yourself around me. His words echoed in her ears, and tears stung behind her eyelids. When had been the last time she’d been herself with anyone? Hell, what was she really like? The questions mounted in her mind, and she blinked back the tears, clearing her throat and yanking her gaze from his.
She surged to her feet without much finesse. “Sorry. I’m not feeling well. I’m going to bed early.”
He stood immediately, the legs of the chair screeching on the hardwood floor. “Alexa—”
“Good night,” she said in a clipped tone, without looking back, and scurried to the second floor and into her bedroom. Within a matter of seconds, she closed the door behind her, expecting to feel an oasis of solitude.
She scanned the guest room, then peeled off her clothes and changed into her nightgown. Running. She’d been running for so long. She’d run after she’d finally fought her stepfather back and told him he’d visit her room no more. She’d run after the fire that had put an end to her mother’s life. She’d heard her stepfather had gone to jail, but returning home would have meant reliving all the pain, all those moments when she’d been weak and let herself be touched, let herself be branded by that monster.
So she’d never gone back, choosing to remain off the grid.
She wiped off her makeup, carefully, yet her fingers trembled as she held the cotton and the removal lotion. Am I still running? She’d thought by leaving her home she’d be free, but her stepfather still remained in her life. Didn’t he?
She looked at herself in the mirror, and her stomach clenched when she found the scared fifteen-year-old still living inside her. She washed her face, then patted it dry with the towel.
What a fool she’d been—to think she’d been so smart to avoid men, avoid relationships, when a simple chat with someone she was interested in panicked her. I allow this to keep happening.
Pacing the floor, she thought and rethought her strategy. A sheen of sweat slicked her forehead, her heart beating in staccato. She regarded the big bed, then the door. His room was next to hers, and if she kept walking in circles, he’d hear her. She’d heard when he’d come up to his room minutes prior. She picked up a brush and ran it down her hair, the endless ritual she did every night before going to bed. Alone. Always alone.
A little thrill of surprise surged through her. Maybe not tonight. Why wasn’t she allowed to share her bed with a guy who clearly had a lot of experience? He’d made it obvious he wanted to sleep with her. Most likely after this auction she wouldn’t see him again. He’d return to Texas, no matter what he said, and she could retire, leave the country, and start anew abroad. She’d pass her auction business on to someone else. Maybe Jackie could run it. She had the experience and the background to continue on without her.
Alexa set the brush on the dresser, then, without worrying about slipping on a robe, she smoothed her hands over her silver nightgown and marched out of her room. Each step she took toward his bedroom, the more her resolution solidified.
Squaring her shoulders, she knocked on his door.
Once.
Twice.
When a shirtless Brooks opened the door, her breath caught in her throat.
Holy shit. He still had on the pants from dinner, but that was it. She gazed at his eyes gleaming with interest and surprise. When she looked down his body, her nipples tightened against the flimsy silky fabric of her gown. The square broad shoulders led to a wide chest, where muscles multiplied, and a sinful patch of hair dusted its way down his pants.
“How can I help you, Madam?” he teased her, his voice smoother than honey.
She brought her attention to his face again. “I wanted to apologize for leaving so abruptly
.”
“No problem.”
She chewed her bottom lip. “You’re a good guy, and I haven’t met many men like you in my lifetime.”
He rubbed his chin, and his eyes darkened. “I’m not the good guy you think I am.”
Her heart flipped in her chest. That’s exactly what a good guy would say. She stepped forward, close enough to catch a whiff of his scent, a mix of clean soap with spices from the cologne he’d put on earlier, and to top it off, a blatant masculinity oozed from his every pore. “You don’t even know me and you’ve tried to make me feel comfortable. Thank you.”
He dipped his head lower, and she didn’t retreat. Her heart hammered in her chest, in her ears, in her throat. “Maybe I have ulterior motives.”
“Maybe I have them, too.” She’d just needed to come to terms with them. Her desire drilled through her, showing her who was boss. “I was thinking…you said you’d charge five hundred thousand a night, right?” she said, every part of her bursting with excitement.
His eyes darkened, the hint of a smile curling his lips. “Yes.”
Her stomach dipped to the floor, only to bounce back and drop again. “Well, what a coincidence,” she said, doing her best to sound in control. To sound like the Madam Alexa people read about, shrewd and seductive, unlike the insecure woman who’d inhabited her soul all these years. A sad, lonely woman who was about to take a risk. “That’s what I charge, too. So maybe we can call it even and just enjoy each other?”
Chapter Four
“I’ve been fantasizing about this win-win ever since I met you,” Brooks said, pulling her inside and closing the door behind her.
Guilt pinched him, but he brushed it aside. Yes, he surely wasn’t the good guy she imagined him to be. If he were, he’d have denied her advances. After dinner, when they’d talked, he’d noticed vulnerability in her eyes, and once again, fleetingly, when she’d knocked on his door. She didn’t do this kind of thing every day. She’d chosen him.
And he’d break her heart in the end. Hurting her gave him no pleasure, but he needed answers about Pamela and getting closer to her would help him.
He drew her to him, kissing her with the rage of a tropical storm, his tongue parting her lips and thrusting inside. She linked her arms around him, and he lifted her from the ground, taking her to his bed.
His body throbbed for her with a fierceness that defied common sense. She looked amazing without any makeup, wearing a nightgown that outlined her sexy curves. She’d lowered her wall, and damn, he’d take it. He’d take it all.
When he placed her on his bed, she withdrew a bit, splaying her hand on his chest and pushing him away. “Just so you know, I haven’t done this in a while.”
“That’s okay.” He caressed her cheek, his fingers outlining her jaw. “I haven’t, either.” Hell, it’d been well more than a year since he’d broken up with Adelaide. After learning of Pamela’s death, regret had taken over him, leaving no room for any other emotions.
“I find that hard to believe,” she said in a soft voice, flashing him a coy smile.
For a second, she resembled a virgin bride on her first night, instead of a world-class madam. Which idea scared him the most?
He lowered himself on top of her, catching a whiff of the warm vanilla notes of her perfume. She traced his jaw with the tip of her fingers, and an electric energy charged between them, shooting down his body, accelerating his heart. His cock hardened, balls growing heavier and fuller.
He caught her index finger in between his lips and nipped it. She moaned, a sexy, hearty, raspy sound that only added to his already high degree of arousal. She didn’t look away, and flames of blue fire shimmered in her eyes. She slid her finger inside his mouth, and he licked it, sucking her flesh, without taking his eyes off hers for a moment.
Then, he took it out and kissed her hand, peppering kisses on her wrist, trailing a path up her arm and shoulders. Goose bumps rose on her flesh, and he continued his nipping and kissing until his mouth found the delicate curve of her smooth neck.
She moaned again, squirming under him, but he didn’t let up. He licked her warm skin, feeling her pulse throb against his tongue. She shoved her fingers into his hair, wrapping her legs around him, squeezing him into a hold he wished he could never escape.
He bit her neck, then sucked a little, earning another long-winded moan from her. His blood ran hot and thick in his veins, his heart pounding into his rib cage. When he traced a path down her shoulder blade and into the valley between her breasts, she arched toward him, bucking her body into his mouth, giving herself to him in a way that tested every bit of his self-control.
“Brooks…I need you inside me,” she said in a sultry voice that squeezed some pre-cum from the tip of his cock.
“All in good time, baby. By the way, I’m clean and if you—”
“I’m safe, and on the pill.”
When he reached her nipple, a smile formed on his face. When had been the last time he’d emptied himself inside a woman without any barrier? Too long. With Alexa, the idea of her pussy milking all of him aroused him so much, he felt light-headed as his blood rushed south in his body. Oh, yes. He wanted to give her his load, to coat her with it, and to have her swallow it. A raw need to brand her any way he could overtook him.
He licked her large, full breast, loving how passionately she responded to him. “God, Alexa. You’re so fucking sexy.”
With his hand, he caught her other nipple between his index finger and thumb, caressing her pink tip, then squeezing it lightly. She quivered, moving her head from side to side, lips parted and eyes closed.
“Brooks.”
He made his way down her body, playing with her belly button, then finally positioning his head between her legs. He licked her clit with the tip of his tongue, savoring the tangy flavor. She arched her hips forward, and he took her completely in his mouth, lapping at her drenching wet folds.
He inserted two fingers into her pink pussy, slick with her hot juices. Oh yeah. He could not think of a better place to be than in between her legs, sucking the life out of her. Hungry for more, he sucked her bundle of nerves, while intensifying the plunge and retreat of his digits into her sweet cunt. Her thighs trembled, announcing her orgasm, which only empowered him to move his fingers faster, inserting a third one while teasing her clit with his tongue, lapping at it like it was a canteen of water for a thirsty man in the desert.
“Oh, yes. Oh, honey, I’m coming in your mouth,” she said, and he drank every bit of her new juices, her pearly cream, loving it. Needing it.
Damn it…he needed more. When she slowed down, he continued to suck her and this time he flicked her clit with his thumb.
“Brooks, what are you… Oh God!” She let out a little growl, the sexy sound filling the space. He worked her clit faster, peppering kisses in between her folds and her warm sticky thighs.
“I wasn’t done eating you out.”
She clenched her legs around his neck and soon she contracted her body, only to break in spasms a moment later. When he worked his way up her glistening body, she still trembled slightly. He flipped her on her tummy and lifted her ass in the air.
His cock throbbed with simmering lust, and he could no longer wait. His whole body demanded her, craved her, needed her. A flush of adrenaline moved through him, almost making him dizzy with desire. She undulated her hips, like some unspoken mating call.
He positioned his rod at her entrance, rubbing his thick head into her slick flesh. She stiffened her shoulders, and he didn’t move, giving her time to get used to him.
He took advantage to admire her, the cute dimples above her butt. Her ass was large and lush, feminine and inviting. He ran his fingers down her back, tracing her soft skin. He felt her shiver under his touch and relax her shoulders again.
Aroused and on the brink of despair, he inched his dick inside her
slowly. A shot of awareness flowed through him and reached all his nerve endings. Groaning, he reveled in the heady sensation of entering her tight cunt. God. He sucked in a breath, pacing himself. “Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she hissed, rocking her hips into him.
Oxygen left his lungs, and, in a sexual haze, he had to rub his eyes to keep focus.
Swallowing, he contemplated the gorgeous woman on all fours, the sweat covering her back, strands of her lustrous hair falling down her shoulders. She wanted him—hell, she kept moving and rocking into his hips, begging for more.
Maybe she was ready—after two orgasms and how shamelessly wet she was. He bent a bit and thrust inside her pussy, so tight, every part of her clung to his cock, provoking electric charges within him. More, being inside her brought all of his system into high alert, as if he’d spent his entire life eating oatmeal and now he savored his first chateaubriand steak.
“Feels so good,” she said.
He clasped her shoulders and withdrew himself halfway then slammed into her deeper. An animalistic force took over him, an inside voice urging him to claim this woman, to fuck her, to make her his.
Suddenly, she stopped swaying, and he followed suit. Panic pounded his temples, and he opened his mouth to ask her what was wrong when she lunged forward, breaking their scintillating contact. Shit. A shiver raced down his spine.
His heart halted, and he ran his fingers down his face. What had he done? “Alexa, I’m sorry—”
“I have to look at you,” she said, positioning herself on his lap, wrapping her legs around his. “I need to see who’s fucking me. I have to know it’s you.” She stroked his cock, and he groaned, loving her palm on him. Biting her lower lip, she guided him inside her soaking wet pussy.
He stared deep into the complex depths of her baby blues. Different shades of azure filled her irises, and flecks of an emotion he couldn’t pinpoint flashed in her eyes. His gut clenched, and he wondered if he should just stop their lovemaking altogether. Something had shifted, and if he—
The Billionaire's Betrayal (Highest Bidder Book 3) Page 4