“Sold, Sam. Whatever the price you’re trying to get for her, I’ll double it.”
“Oh, Don, that was just a little too easy for my liking.” Sam’s tone sounds bored, like I took all the fun out of it for her. I bite back a growl. She thinks this is a game and that I’m not about to fucking explode.
“Sorry to rain on your fucked up parade.”
Sam laughs through the phone. “You forgot to tell me you owe me a favor.”
“Owe you a fucking favor? Sam, you’re one step from—”
“I’m going to cut you off right there because I don’t want you to say something you can’t take back. I saved your ass, Don. That girl was out the fucking door and would have been at the nearest train station if it wasn’t for me. I stopped her and got her. You’re fucking welcome.”
“I would have found her.” I half growl the words. “I’m not going to thank you for wanting to auction her off.”
“Why wouldn’t you? I just assured you have thirty days with her. If you can’t get her to stay after than then...” Her words trail off, and I can almost see that shrug thing she does when men annoy her or she can’t even be bothered with something.
“Is she okay?” I finally ask. I need to know. It’s driving me crazy, but if I know anything about Sam, she never lets anything happen to her girls. I grit my teeth at the thought that she’s now one of Sam’s girls.
“She’s a runner. I know the look.” Her tone sounds a little sad.
I hate that she ran from me. I want her to run towards me, but she barely knows me. She probably has a shit list of other men’s bullshit she’s been through. Should that be my problem? Yes. Others might think you shouldn't take out your own problems on other people, but I want her to take them out on me. I want to help her work through it. Show her I can do that for her. Would do that for her. If she would just let me in.
“I lied to her, Don. I said the things I needed to to get her to come with me. I don’t like lying to my girls, Don. I want my favor.”
I’ve never seen someone collect so many favors in my life. What she did with them all, I have no idea. I’m not even sure if she uses them or just likes having them. Being in a man’s world, I’m sure it’s nice to have something over all of them.
“Fine. Have your favor, but you’re going to do something for me.”
“Is that so?” I can hear the smile in her voice. She knows she’s won.
I’ve got a little plan of my own. There will be no more running after I get my hands on my girl. I’ll make sure there will never be a way to leave me again. Or at least I’ll make it damn near impossible.
I sit down in my chair and lean back. “This is how this is going to work.”
9
Peaches
I’m pacing backstage and trying to recall my pageant days. This is nothing like doing the Miss Teen back in high school.
Looking around the room, I see a few other girls getting dressed. I guess you could call it dressed; some of them are wearing only a pair of panties.
Clenching my fists at my sides, I try to close my eyes, breathing through the butterflies. This was totally the right decision. Right?
“First time?”
I open my eyes and see a woman getting ready in the mirror next to me turn around and raise an eyebrow.
“Yes, ma’am. I’m trying to remind myself that I don’t have a talent portion coming up.” I laugh nervously, and she winks at me.
“Thank God. I’d hate to hear some of these girls sing,” she says. Reaching out her hand, she introduces herself. “I’m Kim. The veteran Mistress, if you will.”
“I’m Peaches. You’ve done this before?” I ask, playing with tie of the sheer robe I have on.
“Oh, yes. Quite a few times. And that southern accent of yours is going to drive them wild. You need to ask for a microphone when you go on stage.” She winks at me and puts on some blood red heels, making her close to six feet tall. She’s got a body that’s looks like it belongs in a men’s magazine. And she seems completely confident as she stands in front of me in only a red thong and those heels.
“Any advice for a first timer?” I’m trying to keep my mind off what’s about to happen. Even mindless chitchat is better than thinking about what I agreed to.
She flips her dark hair over one shoulder and smiles, crossing her arms under her naked breasts and leaning against the counter.
“Just remember that you’re safe. Samantha only allows in a few men to each Auction, all of whom have passed an inspection most astronauts wouldn’t make it through. The men that you could potentially end up with are healthy, normal guys looking for companionship. They have busy lives with demanding schedules, and they desire a kept woman who is waiting for them at the end of a long day. All you have to do is have a good time with them for thirty days, and then you walk away with a stack of cash.”
“You make it sound like fishing in a stocked pond.” I try to remind myself that what she’s saying is true.