Double The Ache Page 9

  I grew up working on our farm on the outskirts of Las Vegas, mainly raising sheep and a few hogs. I wonder if whoever buys me will have me accompany them to events or if I’ll just be stored away in a condo somewhere. I know nothing about going to formal events, or even wearing heels. I could possibly kill myself in them.

  I wanted to go to school, but I had to do my part since my mother passed away three years ago. I realized over time that she took so much more with her than just herself when she died. The farm has slowly been slipping through my fingers. It’s hard keeping a farm functional in the desert, and no matter how hard I try, I can’t hold on to it. My father talked me into not going to college, saying he needed all the help he could get, and once it was all settled, I could try to enroll. I just couldn't say no. He’d always bring up my mother and talk about how hard things were now that she’s gone.

  I'm second guessing myself and this decision as I wonder if I'm just delaying the inevitable downfall of the family farm.

  I shake off the negative thought. I can use this money to pay off the farm loan he owes the casino or I can use it to start somewhere fresh. Or maybe, just maybe, I can get enough to do both. Pay off the loan, wipe my hands clean of everything, and move on.

  My father keeps dragging himself into the city every night to gamble and drink until he can't even walk. I have to go pick him up at least four times a week, and oftentimes I need help getting him out to the car. He’s a big man, and I’m barely five feet four. I may weigh a little more than I should, but that sure isn't muscle adding to the pounds. All my extra weight seems to go to my ass, hips, and boobs, and that does nothing to help me. The last time I had to go get him was the worst. He didn't have the money to pay for the private poker tournament he’d entered, and the debt needed to be paid or they'd be taking the farm. I‘d been busting my ass trying to keep that place from the bank to begin with, barely making ends meet, and my father just pissed it all away in one night like it was nothing. Like we didn't have other families who also depended on that farm to make a living. He didn’t think about the salaries we needed to cover, and that it wasn't just about us. If the farm was only about us, I’d have left years ago.

  I was just thankful it wasn't the Cortez Casino that I got the call from this time. Maybe he wasn't even allowed there anymore, because it had been a while since I'd gone there to get him. Each time was more humiliating than the last. The owners, Aaron and Justin Cortez, always looked at me with sad eyes, then it would follow with one of them asking me to dinner in one of the fancy restaurants they had at their casino. They would openly hit on me in front of each other, and I was starting to think it was a game for them to see who could get to me first. I had no plans to do anything with either of them. They’re the richest men in the city and have a reputation that goes with that. I didn't need their pity or to be a part of any games they were playing. I didn’t understand what they were getting at, but I didn’t have time for it. They’d ask if I needed someone to talk to, and hell, I probably did. Over the years my friends seemed to slowly drop off one by one. Some going away to college and others frustrated with the lack of time I had to spare to hang out with them. But I didn’t want the Cortez brothers pitying me, and I didn’t need their charity, I needed a father who could pull it together. I didn’t have anything other than the farm, and it’s probably why I’m still a freaking virgin.

  I wasn't trying to save it, but I wanted to give it to someone I loved, and if you're too busy working, you sure aren’t going to find time for silly things like love. There is no one even close to my age at the farm. I spent most of my days with Tim, who just mainly grunts his responses. He puts just as much work into the farm as I do, working hard for his own family. I don’t think I could handle things without him, but I know if we don’t start turning a better profit that I could end up losing him.

  “So what do think?” I ask, looking at Kim through the mirror. She’s clearly a pro at this, and I’ll take any advice she can give me.

  “You look like you're going to make a killing.” She winks at me again, and then goes back to fluffing her hair.

  The double doors burst open, and Samantha comes strutting into the dressing room. She checks over all the girls one by one, her redheaded assistant running around, frantically trying to make sure it all looks perfect for her. Samantha’s quite interesting to watch; I can’t help but be in awe of her and this business she’s built. I feel like there’s a really good story there, but I’m sure with the kind of secrets she keeps, she’d never tell it. She’s stunning and looks almost like a Stepford wife, but I don't see a ring on her finger. Her shiny blonde hair is pulled back into a perfect chignon with not a strand out of place. She has very little make-up on, and her outfit, though just a simple black dress, looks like it cost more than I can imagine. She oozes class and sophistication, which is odd because she’s basically running a high-class prostitution service, if you were to call it what it really is.

  Meeting Samantha was a stroke of luck. She was at the private poker game when I came to get my father. I'm guessing she was there to get business from the high rollers for the Mistress Auctions. When she saw me, and the bind I was in, she pulled me to the side and told me how she could help.

  She said if I met all the requirements, I’d go up on the auction block and would be given to the highest bidder. She collects a percentage of all sales, but insisted there were lots of rules and guidelines to protect everyone. She told me a few of the rules that first night, and the one that stuck out the most was the virgin clause.

  In the agreement, virgins must have their first coupling on the property right after purchase. Maybe they wanted to be sure the girl was really a virgin, but I thought the extensive physical should have proved that. Either way, that rule stuck out in my mind because I knew once the hammer went down on ‘sold’, it was time to pay up and put out. The thought terrified me, and I tried not to dwell on it. If I did, I’d be out the door in three seconds flat.

  Samantha looks over all the girls, inspecting every detail, and when she gets to me she stops. She looks me up and down and nods. “You’re first.” Her smile is wicked, and she seems a little smug. “You're going to make me a fucking killing. I’m thinking those two would pay anything.”

  I give her a questioning look, thinking someone is already set to bid on me. Maybe they gave out our pictures when people first arrived or something.

  “I should’ve put in a decoy to jack up the price,” she mumbles, clearly talking to herself as she walks away.

  “Drink it,” Kim says, shoving a glass of champagne in my face.

  “I’m not old enough.” I push the glass back from my face, needing to keep my head straight tonight.

  “Yeah well, it’s not really legal to sell your virginity either, but here you are. Drink it. It’ll help calm your nerves. You look like you might pass out.”

  She’s right. The time has come, and I do feel a little faint. Part of me wants to flee the room, but I’m not sure I can move my feet right now. I take the glass from her hand and drink it in three big gulps. It’s crisp and extra cold, making my eyes water for a second. I take a breath, and I do feel a little better by the time the drink hits my stomach.

  “Let’s go.” Samantha’s assistant takes my wrist and pulls me down the short hallway with Samantha leading the way.

  I look back over my shoulder, and see Kim mouth ‘good luck’ at me, and I turn back around, trying to keep my feet from tripping over nothing. We stop short of a thick black curtain, and I suddenly feel like I’m in The Wizard of Oz, wondering what’s sitting on the other side of the curtain. I’m definitely not in Kansas anymore.

  Red places me dead center in front of the curtain, and then backs herself off to the side. Samantha walks over and pulls some of my dark curls over one shoulder, but makes sure they’re not covering my breasts. The white nightie hides nothing at all, sheer fabric from my breasts down to my mons. Red tried to get me to put a thong on, but I told her it would
n't look too hot if I was picking my ass the whole time I was on stage. The compromise was no underwear, so I’m sure whoever is on the other side of the curtain is about to see all of me. I feel a chill, and the cold champagne I drank so fast has turned my nipples rock hard, making them easy to see through the thin fabric.

  Samantha straightens my appearance, and makes a tutting sound when she looks down at my feet. It’s then I notice I don’t even have any shoes on. Shit, I forgot the stupid heels. Probably for the best anyway, I would likely fall off the stage in them.

  “Remember, Stella, this is all for the money. Don’t let them see your fear.”

  I nod, and she walks to the side of the stage. A male voice fills my ears, and I know the time has come. “Let’s begin, gentlemen. The girls are ready, and tonight we are starting off with a rare treat. Normally we’d save something like this for last, but I thought we’d give each of you an opportunity to bid before you made other purchases. This rare gem has something you all want.” There’s a pause, and I hear a lot of mumbling. “Tonight I offer you Stella, the twenty-year-old virgin.”

  The curtains part.

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