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The clock is ticking, and I’ll never find another opportunity like this one.
I snatch the pen from his hand and scribble my name on the dotted line. If my signature is wobbly from the tremble in my fingers, well, that’ll just have to be good enough.
Gunner taps a few keys on his laptop then spins the device to face me so I can read the screen. The transaction is complete. I pull out the phone he insisted on providing me to keep in touchand open the bank app he pre-installed. I’ve never needed more than my pocket to hold what little cash I’ve had. More digits than I can fathom flash onto my balance. Enough to buy my brother his freedom and the time he needs to get back on track. Even a place with a real foundation where we can live in peace after this nightmare is over is suddenly in the budget.
All I have left to do is earn it.
Bolting to my feet, I wobble. A lot of firsts tonight. Wearing heels is one of them. Five-inch stilettos wouldn’t have been my pick, though I like what they do to the shape of my legs and the illusion of power that comes with being taller. I’ll take all the bravado I can get.
“Perfect.” Gunner levers up from his massive leather wingback chair. He sticks his hand out to shake, and his warm grasp lingers, steadying me, as he rounds his desk and nudges me toward the door. “It’s truly a pleasure doing business with you. Several of our luckiest members will certainly agree. I can feel the club’s waitlist about to explode.”
I’m fucked up. So is my life, and tonight is just another example of how badly. But for once, I’m finding a way to make something of nothing. And if that means selling myself to a bunch of rich dudes who get off on nailing virgins in front of their equally rich friends, so be it.
Gunner wraps his hand possessively around my elbow, probably to protect his significant investment. What does it say about me that I soak in any hint of reassurance? “I’d offer you a drink to fortify your nerves, but you’re not old enough for one, and I’m not about to lose my license.”
Fine by me. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can get my brother back. Hopefully, these playboys will be so riled up by the idea of a public fuckfest that they won’t last very long. “No more delays. Let’s go.”
CHAPTER 2
Wesley
“Why the hell did you drag me here tonight?” Briggs grumbles from my right as he swirls the single globe of ice in his expensive-as-fuck, though not overpriced, glass of whisky.
“What, you had a hot date with your boxers and streaming some dumb reality show?” Grant laughs from my left. My two best friends are constantly ribbing each other, but their barbs don’t hold any malice. Not here at Gunner’s club, nor in the boardroom where we’ve built our empire, and certainly not in the mansion we call home.
“At least we saved you the trouble of finding decent porn to jerk off to before bed.” I shift on the tufted burgundy sofa we’re sharing. A dozen or so others are set up on tiered risers, arranged in a multilevel semicircle that cups the curved front edge of the stage before us. The couches are filled with guys who are closer than simple friends, who get off on playing together—like we do. It’s an exclusive group made up of people who have a whole hell of a lot to lose, which guarantees we keep our collective mouths shut about what goes on in this place.
Say, for example, auctions for the right to publicly deflower virgins with your buddies.
Briggs might be bitching now, but he’ll be into it when the action starts. I’m as sure of it as I am about the accuracy of the financial reports I certified for our company’s quarter end last week. Not to mention the record profits accounted for in those documents.
There are two things I love—money and group sex.
None of us can resist the allure of an uninhibited woman being conquered by several men.
Or better yet, passing one around between us.
“It’s just that I prefer my hook-ups willing, eager, and skilled. Who wants a girl who doesn’t even know what she’s doing when she gets her hands on us?” Briggs contorts his face as if he’s just been told he’s eaten sushi that was left out overnight.
“I guess we’ll see how it goes down, but…my dick doesn’t seem to mind.” Grant adjusts the crotch of his impeccably tailored suit pants. They don’t leave a lot of extra room for the bulge he’s already sporting.
His state doesn’t surprise me considering the meeting we had earlier and the deal he negotiated to get our company’s app into the hands of millions of new customers overnight. Victories like that—epic ones that level us up and secure our future—always hype him up.
Truth be told, that’s why I pushed so hard to come to the club tonight. To celebrate. By reveling in our preferred vices. We’re exhausted, sure. Grant from endless schmoozing, me from crunching the numbers to structure the deal, and Briggs from providing the security for the visiting executives, our facility, and the corporate secrets plenty of rivals have tried to steal. More than rest, we need this time as a unit to refresh.
Reconnect.
Play.
It isn’t until Gunner’s right-hand man splits the burgundy curtains shielding the stage and welcomes the crowd that Irealize we’re about to be more than spectators. Because behind him, a woman who captures the attention of every cell in my body peeks out of the gap left by the auctioneer’s entrance.
All I can see are her eyes, and I know. Tonight is going to change our lives forever.
They’re partially obscured by smoky shadow and dark liner but it doesn’t expunge the terror twinkling in them.
Come out, little lamb. We’ll make you enjoy our bites.
“Thank you for joining us here for this special event. Without further ado, please give tonight’s guest of honor, Clover, a warm welcome.” The auctioneer extends his hand, and the young woman emerges fully from the part in the velvet curtains, which hide whatever else is on the stage.
