Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22420 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 112(@200wpm)___ 90(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
“How much?” are my terse words.
Benny merely continues to study his nails.
“If they buy you, you’ll pocket thirty-k. ‘K’ stands for thousand, in case you don’t know, Sierra,” he smirks. Then, my odious manager holds his hands up palms out while smiling magnanimously. “Plus, I won’t even take a cut since the auction’s for friends and family. You’ll get the full amount. Does that change your mind?”
I can’t help but gasp because thirty thousand dollars is a huge sum. That’s a lot of money for one night of debauchery. My mind starts whirling. How much medication can I buy for my mom with that amount? Heck, maybe I could even pay for Lynette to visit Manhattan because there’s a specialist here that I’ve wanted her to see for the longest time. Supposedly, he’s a genius when it comes to rheumatoid arthritis. But then, I frown again. There has to be a catch because if it sounds too good to be true, then it is too good to be true.
“Yes, but what about the club’s cut?” I begin in a tentative voice. “I know Club Z usually takes twenty percent off the top for these auctions, so I wouldn’t really be able to take home the whole thirty K right?”
Benny shrugs nonchalantly.
“Don’t worry your head about the club, sweetie pie. I’ll make sure it’s all worked out.”
I stare at him, hardly believing my ears because Benny doesn’t have that kind of sway at Club Z. Hell, he’s lower-level management and just one step up from a foot soldier. But my need for cash overtakes my good sense because with thirty grand, I could afford to do so much of what my mom needs and deserves. Besides, it’s only one night right? One night of me going outside my comfort zone could make a huge difference for Lynette, and if anyone’s worth this risk, it’s my mom. She’s already sacrificed so much for me, so it’s time for me to do the same for her. With that, I straighten my shoulders and nod.
“Okay, when were you thinking? Not tonight, I hope.”
Benny rubs his hands together, smiling so hard his beady little eyes look like they’re going to pop out of his big head.
“No, no, of course not! You have your shift tonight. But yes, I’ll get you the deets in the next couple days.” Then, he claps my shoulder and I jump, making him laugh. “This is going to be perfect, sweetheart. And if the clients like you, then there could be a lot more cash coming down the pipeline.”
I swear, there are dollar signs zinging in his eyes like a cartoon character but I manage another wan smile.
“Sure, got it. Just let me know when, okay?”
Benny cackles again while strolling out of the women’s locker room, like he has nary a care in the world.
“Will do, sweet ‘ums. And try to work on loosening it up a bit before the auction, won’t you? No one wants a girl who’s as stiff as a board.”
How insulting! Did this man just insinuate that I’m a cold fish? Maybe I’m standoffish around him, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t turn it on for the right guy. Or the right guys, in this case.
But okay, this has changed things. I’m going to be auctioned in a private set-up, with men who will want to touch me. They’ll want to squeeze my breasts for sure, and to stroke between my legs. Oh shit. I drop my face in my palms and take a few deep breaths, telling myself it’s going to be alright. It’ll be worth it once I have that money. It has to be worth it because now, I’ve gone too far and there’s no turning back.
3
James
I sip at my bourbon while taking in the decor of The Drunken Lamb. It’s an Irish pub downtown, and Mike and Harry and I don’t hang out at places like this that often, but then again, sometimes Irish pubs hit the spot with their eye-watering lager, busty bar wenches, and loud music. Plus, my friends aren’t holding back on the vulgarity tonight either.
“Man, I wish these girls were game for fucking around,” Harry says, downing his bourbon before nodding at one of the waitresses sashaying by. “I mean, look at the ass on that one.”
Mike clinks his glass to Harry’s and whistles, his gaze appreciative.
“Fuck yeah. I could bury my face in her butt for days.”
I smirk because they’ve both got a point. We share a preference for thick, curvy women, and that’s one of the best things about The Drunken Lamb. The girls who work here have extra oomph, and this particular one actually does have an ass that goes on for days, round and tight beneath her skirt. I wouldn’t mind her sitting on my face, come to think of it, because that’s the kind of suffocation I dream of taking me to my death. A thick bottom, riding my nose and mouth, screaming my name while she comes all over my tongue.