Baby Bargain

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Baby Bargain Page 31

by Vivien Vale


  "You see our predicament, sir."

  Goddammit. The photos actually are damning evidence.

  If only Sienna wasn't the sister of someone so famous at the moment. This is yet another reason why she should watch her step and not be a fucking escort in the first place. I think about how I own her for the next thirty days, and how I might punish her for this over and over again until her pussy is dripping wet for me.

  I push the thoughts away and focus back on the matter at hand.

  "How much will it take to make this go away? Everything has a price. Everyone can be bought."

  He clears his throat and pulls at his tie. "Well, um, that may be a possibility yet. Let me just go over some things so that I can supply you with more information. I have an idea, but it will require more facts."

  "Fine, do whatever. But your office better have this handled or else our patronage will go to someone else."

  He gulps. If he loses our business, he’ll lose his job. I’ve put his firm in a very prestigious position and without me, they’ll lose a majority of their clientele.

  The man takes his leave and I’m left to figure out how my entire day has just gone to shit and it’s not even 9 a.m. I think about the man last night and how he was a spy the entire time.

  Mr. Mothballs? It’s absurd. Though he sure didn't mind making advances on Sienna.

  What a pervert. He took his undercover work too far by putting his hands all over her body. A weird sense of possessiveness rushes over me. I feel like I want to kill the guy—and any other that would attempt to defile my new little plaything.

  I wish I never left the penthouse this morning and that I was back upstairs, making her see that I intend to make the most of my purchase.

  Sienna

  I wake to the sun streaming in at various angles through openings in the heavy curtains. While they’re not drawn, the day is bright enough to reveal the fact that it must be afternoon.

  How did I sleep so late? I fumble around for my phone and find it beneath my crumpled dress in the corner. Oh my God! It's past noon.

  I’m frantic for a moment until I realize that I have nowhere to be. I'm an escort now, and beyond that, I've been bought by Leo for the next month. I stretch out in bed and rerun the night in my head.

  He didn’t disappoint. The chemistry is crazy strong between us, yet I can't help but think I’m just another one of Leo's latest conquests.

  He doesn't seem like the kind of guy that would be tied down. I know he's a playboy based on what I've seen written in the papers. He's a billionaire now, a mogul, and he's far different from the young man I remember, my brother's friend. He was humble then and didn’t possess this commanding authority.

  Though I have to say, I like the way he manhandles me. An image of the way his hands feel on my body flashes in my head. The way he can make me come apart with a simple touch.

  I shiver as though he's actually in the room with me.

  I wish he was.

  As much as I don’t want to, I feel that I have to surrender to the fact that I’m bought and paid for, for the next month.

  Part of me wishes it were anyone but Leo fucking Asher. And the other part is relieved it isn’t anyone else. At least this way, I won't have to go out with any more creeps for a while. I can still keep my job as an elite escort and get paid, while feeling safe with Leo.

  Though there’s nothing safe about him. Not where I’m concerned. My mind drifts back to last night as I luxuriate in the soft, oversized bed. Leo took me to new heights of pleasure many times over. I’ve never felt as good I did with his cock deep inside me, his body taking control of mine.

  I try to analyze what happened. I gave up complete control to him. More than that, I wanted to. That’s something new to me, and I don’t quite understand it yet. All I know is that I plan on making the most of these thirty days.

  The penthouse is silent as I lie there, and I know Leo's at work, so this is the perfect time to snoop and take advantage of all the amenities being a resort mogul affords.

  I go through his master bath first. While the sauna is warming up, I take a look at his immaculately lined up grooming tools. His closet, too, is categorized in such detail that I can see he applies this domination thing to every facet of his life.

  I walk naked to the sauna and have a nice relaxing time of it. It's the perfect way to wake up from a long night of wild, crazy sex. I detox for about twenty minutes then take a shower.

  Leo’s shower is large enough to accommodate a party, and knowing him it's probably been done. My clit pulses with the thought. I want to see just what we can do in this shower.

  When I’m done showering, I step out and pull on his robe. It smells like him, woodsy and spicy. I brush my hair with his comb and make sure to leave things messy. I grin mischievously at myself in the mirror.

  Leo needs a little shake-up in his too perfect palace. I even squeeze the toothpaste from the middle of the tube rather than the bottom when I find a stash of spare toothbrushes. And because it pisses me off that he’s apparently prepared for sleepovers, I leave toothpaste smeared all over the top of the tub and conveniently lose the lid.

  Walking into the kitchen and opening all the drawers in the refrigerator, I find nothing but a lot of healthy food. So that's how he maintains his rock hard body. Hmm. Not that I’m complaining about that eight-pack, but the man needs some brownie mix or something.

  There's a knock on the door. I ignore it at first, but after a minute it becomes clear that the person knocking won’t be ignored. I'm a little scared to open it since this isn’t my place.

  What if it’s some other woman who has a jealous fit when she finds me here? The knocking continues. It’s driving me crazy, so I go and reluctantly turn the handle and peek around the edge.

  "Who is it?"

  A flock of people burst through the minute I give them an inch. I have to jump back to avoid being trampled. They’re carrying what looks like all of my possessions from the room I've been staying in.

  "Um, hello? What are you doing?"

  A woman comes towards me to confirm. "You're Sienna, right? Sienna Reid?"

  "Yes." I narrow my eyes indignantly and wrap the robe tightly around my body. What a rude intrusion. And what the fuck is going on?

  "What are you guys doing with my stuff?"

  "Oh, Mr. Asher has requested that we move all of your things here. I assure you that we took the utmost care in handling your...delicacies."

  God! I blush at the thought of strangers rifling through my intimate belongings. Oh my God, they probably even packed up my vibrator.

  The nerve of Leo! What could he be thinking to command them to do this? I can’t just move into his penthouse, even if he does ‘own’ me for the next month. That’s ridiculous.

  "Excuse me, but please take this stuff right back to my room." I cross my arms and wait. The woman just looks at me like I'm not getting it.

  "I can't do that. We're operating at the express command of Mr. Asher. And we are to inform you that the agency by which you are employed will no longer be paying the cost of your room. So, unless you'd like to pay for it yourself, I'm afraid your things will have to stay here in the penthouse."

  What the hell? I'm flushed. Furious. Here I am standing basically naked, as I’m in nothing but Leo’s robe, while a half-dozen people mill about, setting up my things.

  It's like I'm not even here. They arrange my clothes in his ample closet and they set my Louis Vuitton trunks up nicely so that I have access to all my belongings. It's definitely a five-star service but it's a service I don't want and that I never asked for. I haven't been treated this nicely since before my father left us destitute.

  Growing up, it was all luxury all of the time. Now I have to work for my money, and if things prove as difficult as they did last night with that old man then I could be looking at a very bleak future.

  "Ms. Reid," the woman is prodding. "I have Guest Services
coming up with a breakfast prepared by one of the head chefs, courtesy of Mr. Asher. May I send them in?"

  I huff out a breath and shake my head. Leo and I are going to have to deal this later, apparently, because these people aren’t taking no for an answer. I hate that he’s just taking control of yet another aspect of my life.

  But you know what? If he's going to make me his virtual prisoner, at least he's doing it in style. Might as well take advantage. Besides, I'm famished after a long night of fucking. And I'd give absolutely anything for some strong espresso right about now.

  "Yes,” I finally agree, “go ahead, send them in."

  Room service arrives and they plate my breakfast at Leo's long dining table which overlooks the entire Strip. There are fresh linens and a beautiful spread of breakfast items, including my long-awaited cappuccino.

  And then the massive staff is gone, just like that. As quickly as they appeared, I’m left alone again in the echoing silence of Leo’s incredible penthouse. I wonder how Leo survives up here in the thralls of luxury but all alone. He seems to have created a place where no one can permeate the walled off fortress that is his life.

  He's risen to the top and has become one of the greatest American success stories, but at what price? I know he doesn't have girlfriends, and he seems so tightfisted about life that I wonder how many times he allows himself the freedom to let loose? Maybe having scores of women at his feet are how he bides his time and releases tension.

  Maybe he finds freedom in that lifestyle but to me, it just seems sad. But who am I to say? I once mingled with the greats of society, too. But while I used to be a socialite, I’ve since fallen from grace under the weight of my father's insurmountable debt.

  Now, I'm working at the bottom. Being an escort was never my dream. Is it anybody's, really? I don’t judge the work…I’m just being realistic. My brief taste has me tentative and thinking of the endless possibilities life brings, the way you contemplate a situation when you’re shocked at your own reality. Now I'm the humbled one and Leo's got the money.

  I think about how he must have felt being my brother's friend. My brother was always handed everything. He's never really had to work a day in his life. Sure, he's a politician but that basically entails calling in favors.

  Our family has certainly sunk deep into the dark crevices of society. Now I feel like the one who should be embarrassed, working as a glorified call girl. And Leo Asher, of all people, owns me. What could his motivation possibly be?

  I wonder about all of this as I look out over the incredible view. The desert stretches out in the distance, and it's as if Vegas is its own island removed from all the other cities, on its own in the middle of a beautiful desert. It's the perfect city for Leo.

  They’re both as far removed from reality as possible. Nothing in Vegas lasts. Nothing’s real in Vegas…and nothing about Leo is authentic. Not anymore.

  I’ve known the true Leo, and he certainly had a lot more depth of feeling than the man who has bought me. What he’s done for me today, moving me in, providing this breakfast, it’s not because he cares. It’s because he wants to prove his dominance, exert his authority and control.

  The old Leo would never do that. And I don’t know how to reconcile the feelings I had for the old one and the desire I have for the new. The old one left me and never came back…and this Leo saved me, but with a firm hand that’s rough and tender. My thoughts pull me in as many directions as the lights I see when I look down over the city.

  Leo

  I'm anxious to get back to Sienna after a long day's work. She's been on my mind all day. As much as I want to forget about her and to treat her as one of my usual sex objects, I'm finding it increasingly hard to do so. I imagine she's furious with me for moving all of her belongings to the penthouse.

  I smile just thinking about the indignation that will probably be on her face when I walk in. But it was a move I had to make. I have to protect her from this media shit storm. I loosen my black necktie as I step off the elevator already feeling a modicum of relief that she’s just on the other side of my penthouse door.

  I just hope she hasn’t had some scheming idea to try to escape. She has to know I’d find her. She won’t get away from me that easily. Because I’ve bought her for the next month—not because I can’t stand the idea of not having her near.

  Not at all, because that would mean I care. And I don’t. Not anymore. But if not, what’s this desire to take care of her, to make sure she's okay? I've never cared if a woman came or went. Why do I care now? I have to shake this growing obsession, this hold she has over me. I attribute once again it to the fact that we have a past and vow not to think about it again as I make my entrance.

  "Hi, honey, I'm home," I say, hoping to elicit a reaction.

  I find her in the kitchen brooding over a glass a wine.

  "Hi," she responds in a voice laced with that feisty attitude that gets my already half-mast cock rock hard.

  "Upset are we, darling?" I can’t resist pushing her. It’s too easy.

  "And now why would you assume that? You've only upended my entire life here without my permission. Not a phone call, not an explanation. Nothing." Her jaw is set, her eyes flashing.

  “And the worst part is I have no choice in the matter. You know I can’t afford to pay for my own place in this hotel. I won’t even ask how you managed to get Roger to stop paying for my room.”

  I don’t bother answering her, and instead just move in behind her and brush her hair away from her neck, leaning in to run my mouth along the smooth skin.

  "Aww come on, baby,” I say. “Don't be mad. You should know I have a good reason for doing what I did." For everything I do. Always.

  "I don't appreciate not being consulted."

  I kiss her neck gently, and she lets me. I smirk. That’s what I thought. She may be mad, but she’s still here, and she’s not pushing me away. I spin her around and take her wine glass from her, swirling it around. I bring it to my nose.

  "Ah, you’ve selected a nice burgundy. And I venture to say an expensive one." She purses her lips and lifts her eyebrows.

  "I have indeed. I figured that as long as I'm here, you'd want me to make myself at home."

  My eyes narrow in on her as I take a drink. "Exactly. What's mine is yours."

  I see that she's going to make this hard on me. I'd expect nothing less. She's as strong-willed as ever.

  Not so much changed from the girl I knew ten years ago. Just as contrary, just as sexy—no, that’s not true. She’s far more seductive than she used to be. Except now I make the rules and I'm at the top. She's under my command.

  And this time she’s the one that’s penniless. I might have grown up on the wrong side of the tracks, but I'd say I've made a hell of a life for myself out of nothing. That's probably what Sienna least expected from me. But I’m done thinking about that. I want to focus on the here and now.

  "Are you ready for dinner? I see that you're not dressed. Did you not receive the outfit I sent over?"

  I took the liberty of having my assistant pick out a divine little Chanel number that will hug her curves perfectly. I'm going to see it on her and then spend the evening out imagining how I’ll shred it off her body in pieces once we get back.

  She's awakened a primal instinct and there's no going back. I need to taste her and pound my cock deep inside her tight little pussy all night long...after dinner, of course.

  "I got the dress. But how was I supposed to know what you wanted? I mean, I'm yours now, right?” The sarcasm practically drips from her voice.

  “Do you want to fix my hair, too? You seem to want to control every aspect of my life. Do you want me to wear panties or not? I haven't gotten dressed because how could I without my strong, powerful man to decide everything for me?"

  She's angry, and not one drop of it is lost on me. But what she doesn't know is that I couldn’t care less. She's mine now, and that does mean I determine
everything. I pull her arm up and whisper harshly into her ear.

  "You will get dressed and you will join me for dinner. That's all you need to know."

  The tension between us is electrifying, sexually charged. She's trying to stand her ground, to prove her own strength and control, but everything about her body language says otherwise.

  I think she's playing a little game, trying to get me wrapped around her finger again. I’ve grown up since our days of playing at romance. I’m a man now and I expect certain things of my escorts. She's decided to lower herself to that level, so I’ll treat her as such.

  "Now go." I say it without a hint of emotion.

  Sienna silently gets up and walks away. My eyes follow her, and I can see the slender contours of her beautiful body beneath one of my oversized t-shirts. Fuck, how did I not notice she was wearing that? It does something strange to me to see her in my clothes.

  Her tanned legs are toned and smooth. I imagine them around my neck as I fuck her into submission with my tongue. She'll be crying my name by night's end and begging me for more.

  Once she's gone, I go to the bar and pour myself a stiff drink. I need to take the fucking edge off this situation. She gets me heated in this kind of push-pull that I can't deny. Things are always so intense with her.

  I need a breather. Need to get my head on straight before she gets back in here so I can maintain the control I crave. The liquid goes smoothly down my throat, and soon she reemerges. The dress is on and she looks like a million bucks, even though I can see she hasn't bothered to do anything different to her flowing hair.

  I guess she's still trying to rebel and that makes my cock twitch against my pants. Jesus Christ, this woman is making me come completely unglued. I long to punish right here for not trying harder, but time is of the essence and we have dinner reservations at the most expensive restaurant in the casino.

  "You look...nice." I say the words but what I mean is you look fucking gorgeous even if you don't bother with your hair or makeup. Out of ten, this girl's a fucking fifteen. She's only gotten more beautiful with age.

 

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