“You’ll want sex?” I ask, knowing the answer, but I want to hear it.
“Of course. I’m attracted to you and you’ll be paid very well.”
“I find it hard to believe you have to pay for sex.”
He laughs and adjusts the way he’s sitting. “You’re right, but I know that at the end of the week you’ll leave. It’s like a paid guarantee that you won’t call me next week, asking to hook up.”
The compliment is backhanded, but he’s right. I won’t call him. After this week he’ll regret offering me the money.
“I really don’t like you,” I tell him so he knows what he’s getting himself into.
“That’s fine, I don’t much like you or your profession. But you’re pretty and have a rocking body. I can use that to my advantage when I’m meeting with potential investors. And like I said, no strings. So we can hate on each other, fuck like rabbits and we’ll both benefit on the financial end.”
“Thirty thousand.”
“Done.” He sticks his hand out and I shake it as my stomach rolls. I sold my body and pride for thirty K. I guess everyone does have a price.
Chapter 6
Finn
I’m emotionless as she follows me out of the room. When I blurted out that I had a proposition for her earlier, sex never crossed my mind. I simply wanted to help her because she looked so lost after losing the money, and judging by the way she was dressed, she could’ve used the cash. I won’t deny that I’m attracted to her. Hell, half the men in the room were watching her. She’s a beautiful woman, despite her profession. I can’t imagine what she’d look like if she were dressed in something more flattering and not a fucking thong.
But, the moment I saw her tits, visions of my dick fucking them flooded my mind. I could easily see her with her chocolate-colored hair and copper skin spread out on my white sheets with sweat pebbling her skin as her back arched off the mattress due to the work my tongue was doing on her pussy. I would do things to her that I never even knew existed when I was eighteen.
And now I’m going to make sure that little fantasy plays out because there is no way in hell I’m going to be able to sit in the same room, limo or space as her and not want to know how she’d feel wrapped around my dick. Screwing her when I was eighteen and inexperienced seems like a speed bump now that I’ve seen her again.
“Wear that robe out of here. I don’t want anyone else looking at you.”
She blanches, but I don’t give a fuck. As of right now I own her. I pull my phone out, reading through the messages Lamar sent me while I was busy negotiating the deal. He’s cleaned out her locker and paid her fee for the night, clearing the way for her to leave with me. I let him know we’re coming out, but more important, he has to get some information from her, like her fucking name, because for the life of me I can’t remember it.
She’s in. I need her name.
I pocket my phone, not interested in seeing his response. I’d like to see him name every person he’s ever met or slept with. My bet is that he can’t, nor would he even try.
Lamar sees us coming toward him and stands. I’m tall, but this fucker is taller. He follows us out and into the waiting limo.
“I need to get my things,” she says, taking the seat farthest away from me.
“Lamar already took care of that.”
Her mouth drops open and she tries to act like she has some bit of authority here by saying, “What?”
I ignore her, not willing to engage in trivial bullshit about what few belongings she had in her locker.
“Where do you live?”
“I’m staying off the Strip.” She states the address and Lamar has the driver head toward there. I don’t know why I assumed she lived here, but the fact that she doesn’t makes this deal even sweeter. Once she leaves, all ties will be severed and I won’t have to worry about running into her.
“Fill these out.” Lamar hands her a nondisclosure agreement to sign. It’s standard, but also something that I don’t usually have a lot of the women I date sign. This situation calls for it, though. The last thing I want is the negative publicity I’d receive if she were to go to the papers. No one needs to know that I’m paying for sex or for dates when they all know I don’t need to. And I have no doubt she’d forget to tell the press the exact reason why I offered her what I did to begin with.
She hands the papers back to Lamar and I glance quickly to see her name. Macey Webster—now all the bells are going off. I could remember where she lived and vaguely recall what it felt like to sleep with her, but not her fucking name.
The limo navigates the small streets of old Vegas, until the driver stops at a run-down motel. Many girls linger out front and go into instant work mode as soon as we stop.
“Do you want Lamar to get your stuff?”
“No, I’ll be fine.” She exits the car and Lamar follows. I watch as she turns to glare at him, not fazing him at all. It’s only a matter of seconds before they’re both back and we’re driving away.
“Did you buy anyone else while I was gone?” Her tone is snarky and for some reason, I find that I like it.
“If you think I’m buying you, then I’d like a refund.”
Her mouth drops open again, but she quickly closes it when Lamar chuckles beside me.
“I see Vegas has jaded you.”
Shaking my head, I look out the window and wonder what happened to her. Now that I’ve said her name a few times in my head, I remember her telling me that she was getting out of town. She was going to make something of herself. I hate thinking this was her goal in life. That dancing topless in Vegas was her ambition.
“I’m far from jaded. You assume I have a habit of ‘buying’ people. I can assure you that I don’t mess with human trafficking or prostitution. Like I said earlier, I’m a busy man and this week I need a woman by my side to do my bidding. No strings attached, we both walk away at the end of the week. If I wanted the phone calls, text messages and the whiney bullshit that comes with dating, you wouldn’t be in my car right now.”
She doesn’t have a witty comeback. In fact, she turns her gaze toward the window and watches the passing scenery as we drive back to Allure. When she crosses her legs I just about lose my shit.
“Keep your legs closed. Lamar doesn’t need to see what you’re offering.”
If I expect her to uncross as shyly as possible and to pull her robe closed, I’m sorely mistaken. Instead, she spreads her legs, showing both of us what’s behind her barely there floss, all while keeping her eyes steady on mine.
“Finn, I do believe you’ve met your match,” Lamar says beside me. I laugh, knowing he’s right. I’m not sure what I expected from her, but this wasn’t it. I thought deep down that there was the young girl I had met so many years ago.
“And you call me jaded,” I scoff, getting out of the limo as soon as the driver pulls up to the service entrance. Very rarely do I use this side of the hotel, but the last thing I need is to be seen with Macey while she’s dressed like this. The clicking of her heels tells me that she’s rushing to keep up with my long stride.
“Where are you taking me?” she asks. Her hands are holding her robe closed and she’s shaking.
“Are you scared?”
She looks up with the royal blue eyes I remember and I see nothing but trepidation. Her nod is subtle and if I hadn’t been focusing on her face, I would’ve missed it.
“To my penthouse, where you’ll live this week. My assistant will have some clothes sent up for you and then we’ll go shopping.”
“I have my own clothes.”
I hold the door open so she can step into the service elevator. Thankfully, we’re alone. I insert my key and press the button that will take us straight up to the hallway that leads to my apartment.
“Your clothes won’t suffice unless your carry-on has an array of Dior, Louis Vuitton and Chanel in there.”
“For what you’re asking of me, my clothes are fine.”
I take
the few steps toward her until her back is pressed against the metal wall. My hands land next to her face, and the rise and fall of her chest amuses me.
“Let’s get this straight right now. No one knows what you do on the outside but Lamar and me. No one is going to judge you. From this point forward, you are mine for the week. Your body will don the finest clothes out there, your feet will wear the nicest shoes and the softest fabrics money can buy will cover your pussy.” My nose nuzzles her neck and I try not to reel back as the stench from the club enters my system. “And when we’re alone, if I want you to dance for me, you will. When we’re in the car and I want to fuck you, I will. Make no mistake, Macey. I have every intention of getting my money’s worth this week while I lavish you with gifts.”
The elevator stops, keeping me from kissing her. That is something I haven’t done in a while—kiss a woman. I’m not talking a quick peck on the lips or cheek, but a full-blown tongue in her mouth, with one hand on her face and the other on her back, pulling her into me. Kisses lead to feelings I have no intention of exploring with anyone so why do it? Even when I’m fucking them, I have a strict no-kissing rule. Kissing means emotions and emotions are something I don’t do. I don’t want the complications.
Macey’s shoes scuff the marble floor as she struggles to keep up with me. I open the door to my penthouse and let her enter first. I’m not worried about what she thinks because I have a feeling this is the nicest place she has ever been in.
She walks in with caution, eyeing everything around her. I stay behind, not wanting to crowd her, but also so I can watch her. When she makes it over to the windows I know that I’ll be fucking her against them soon. She’s an exhibitionist by trade; surely getting fucked where millions could be watching would get her off, right?
“Your view is amazing.”
I cock my head to the side and see a sliver of her ass peeking out from under her robe. The temptation to get started on getting to know her is pressing against the zipper of my slacks, but work calls first.
“You have no idea,” I mutter as I walk toward her. I stand behind her, letting her feel my arousal as it presses through my pants. She tenses when my hands rest on her hips.
“Do you know what we’ll be doing with you pressed against the window?”
“I have a good idea.”
I chuckle and remove myself from the situation before I do something she’s not ready for. Right now, she’s dressed like a whore and when we have sex I want her dressed like a respectable woman, one worthy of my attention.
“Let me give you a tour.”
I take her hand in mine and show her around my penthouse. The gasps each time we enter a room don’t go unnoticed.
“How do you sleep?” she asks when we enter my bedroom. The walls are all glass and the bright lights from the Strip light up the room twenty-four hours a day.
“Like this.” I flip the switch that drops curtains down and suddenly the room is pitch-black. I make sure to turn the lights on so she doesn’t feel any more scared than she already is.
“Where will I sleep?”
I point to my bed. “Right there.”
“Maybe we should get this out of the way now.”
Macey turns to face me and slowly unties her robe, letting it fall from her shoulders until it’s pooling around her feet. Her tits are on full display, making my mouth water. I’d love to take them into my mouth and bite down on her nipples as my fingers slide between her wet folds.
I do what she expects and give her a once-over. Her stomach is flat, but looks incredibly soft and well-toned, and even though her pussy is covered, by the way my dick is jumping to attention, I have a feeling I’m going to enjoy being buried between her legs. Walking around her, I slap her ass hard, causing her to jump before I start massaging the sting away.
“Is this what you want, Macey? Do you want to fuck?” I ask her, brushing my cloth-covered dick against the swell of her ass. When she doesn’t answer, I step away.
She turns and glares at me, her nipples peaked from the anticipation of getting some action.
The doorbell rings, startling her.
“Saved by the bell,” I say, stepping to her. My fingers trail up and down her arms, causing goosebumps to rise all over her skin. “Go take a shower. I’ll bring everything you need into the bathroom.”
I storm down the hall, palming my dick for a tiny bit of relief. The thought of bedding her now runs rampant through my mind, especially knowing she’s in my shower and her hands are roaming over her body.
Swinging the door open, Hannah stands there with a bag. I have no idea what Lamar told her to buy, but I take it from her and attempt to close the door.
“Did you kidnap someone?”
“No, I ran into an old friend who was robbed. I’m helping her out.” The lie falls easily from my lips. I have never lied to Hannah before and I don’t like it. I’ve always been able to trust her, but considering I told Macey no one would know about our little arrangement, I’m keeping my word.
“Let me know if you need anything else.” Hannah turns to leave, but I call out.
“Did you reply to those events today?”
“Yes. Should I let them know that Brandy will be joining you?”
“No, my guest’s name is Macey Webster.”
“Perfect.” She looks at me with confusion and before she can say anything I shut the door. She knows I hate going, so the fact that I showed a bit of happiness probably has alarms going off in her head.
I’m surprised to find the bathroom door unlocked when I turn the knob to open it. Inside, the glass wall is steamed up and she’s singing softly.
“I have some girl shit for you,” I call out, causing her to scream.
“You scared me.”
I open the shower door and she covers herself.
“I’ve already seen you, remember?” I say, cocking my eyebrow at her. “Here, my assistant bought this stuff for you.” I hand her the two bottles of hair shit and some soap. By the look on her face I’d say Hannah did well in picking this stuff out. She takes it from me and holds it to her chest, waiting for me to leave. I’m tempted to strip down and join her, but I restrain myself.
“When you’re done, we’ll go out to dinner and then shop. Women like to shop, right?”
She nods and waits for me to step out. I close the bathroom door and head to my closet to change. As soon as I undo my pants my dick starts playing peekaboo through my boxers, reminding me that he’s here and ready for action. “Fucker,” I mutter, pushing him back in.
Chapter 7
Macey
I’ve died and gone to Cinderella fucking heaven. As a poor kid you dream of the finer things in life. You always want what others have and people tell you that with hard work you can have everything you want. What they fail to tell you is that getting out of the slums is hard work and that the chips are stacked against you. If you don’t have someone who cares about helping you succeed, you’re on your own to try and do better. If you don’t have the proper clothes, you can’t get hired at a job that pays a decent wage. You end up working at McDonald’s making slightly above minimum wage, plus waiting tables at a local restaurant. You bust your ass to put food on your table and just deal with where you live because it’s a roof over your head—at least that is how my life has panned out so far.
Holding a bottle of body wash that I can’t even pronounce the name of really makes it hit home that I’m living in a fucking fantasy. I think about slipping it into my bag to take home to sell, but I don’t know anyone who can afford this shit. It’s ninety-nine-cent soap or a two-for-one deal at the dollar store for me. The shampoo isn’t much better. The cost alone would feed Morgan and me for a month.
Standing under the showerhead, I try to wrap my mind around everything that’s happening and it doesn’t matter which way I spin it, I’ve become the one person I swore I would never be. Selling myself for sex is an all-time low, but the money is too good to pass up. That amount o
f money is going to change Morgan’s and my life for the better and I’d be foolish to walk away.
When I step out of the shower there’s a plush towel waiting for me, along with the softest bathrobe I have ever felt. I wrap my body in it, pulling the fabric to my face while I close my eyes and revel in the luxury of how it feels. At any moment I fear that he could change his mind about me, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to go easy on him. As far as I’m concerned, he’s the enemy.
The bathroom leads to one of two places—back to his bedroom where I’ll be forced to sleep or the closet that’s bigger than the bedroom that Morgan and I share. Walking into the closet, I’m taken aback at seeing all my belongings in there. My lingerie is stacked on the center table and there’s a lone dress hanging in what I’m gathering is a recently emptied space.
My fingers trail along the table, wondering how much something like this would cost. I shake my head at the thought of wasting money and hate the fact that it means nothing to people like him. Next to my G-strings are a new bra and a pair of cheekies. Picking them up, I rub the fabric between my fingers. He’s right, this is the softest thing I will ever wear. I really hate that he’s right.
“How was your shower?”
I jump at the sound of his voice behind me. My nerves have been on edge ever since he took me into the VIP room. I don’t know what to expect with him and the fact that he’s a stealth walker scares the shit out of me.
Finn is leaning against the doorjamb with his hands in his pockets, wearing denim jeans and a button-up shirt with his sleeves rolled. His black hair is tousled, making him look like he’s straight out of a magazine.
“The shampoo and soap you gave me, it’s too much. I don’t need anything other than the stuff I have in my bag.”
He pushes off and stalks into the closet, ignoring me. “I cleaned this area for you.”
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