Micah
Just a couple hours left till the auction, and I was dressed to the nines and ready to go. I barely even had a half-formed plan on how I was going to get Kessa out all on my own. Hell, I didn’t even know how I was going to get myself out of here, let alone her. But where there’s a will, there’s a way. The moment you start to lose is the moment you start to believe it’s not possible to win. That’s what my momma always said, at least.
Admittedly, she’d never really won in her life either. The advice sounded good, though, even as I stood in the middle of the ballroom, surrounded by a crowd of disgusting millionaires and billionaires, a bunch of pervs looking for their own personal sex slaves to while away the hours.
This place disgusted me on every level I could imagine. All the attendees knew what it was going to be. Daddy didn’t accept credit, debit, or personal checks for his girls, even the broken ones like Kessa who were going to be up for sale. Cash only, all purchases final. You could tell by the briefcase cuffed to their hand if one of the clients was going to be part of the bidding going on later.
I didn’t know which was worse, though. The men who came from all over the country to participate in the auction, orDaddy’s girls, like me, who were part of the entertainment for the evening. Here we were, knowing full well what was going on, and just turning a blind eye to it in exchange for a fat payout and maybe some brownie points with the fat bastard running everything.
Were we the monsters here? The ones who knew these girls and had spent long evenings with them on our nights off? Were we as responsible for all this as anyone else? What could he have done, after all, if we’d all stood up at the same time andrefused to be any party to this? But that was silly. And we all knew it. After all, look at what had happened to Kessa when she refused to let a client hurt her. There was no reasoning with men like this.
Sure, we’d made a choice to come here, to allow ourselves to be conned into this lifestyle. But we hadn’t known the pitfalls before we started. All we’d heard were sickly sweet lies from Daddy’s thick lips. Promises, promises, and more promises. And all about money, and how we’d be treated right. Now, though, we were all stuck, all victims of our own greed and naïveté.
I could say one thing, though. Coming to this party and getting to see the look on Ford’s face while he was stuck working security was priceless. The need, the hunger, in his eyes, that was just perfect. I knew he wanted me still, and I could practically see him throbbing through the front of his slacks as I sashayed away from him, through the assembled crowd. Hell, I could see the same thing happening to most of the men.
But, know what would make it better? Putting on a real show for him, getting him jealous and all worked up. That’d make the prick see what he missed out on when he went to work for Daddy Williams, instead of helping me. This way he could see what he could have had if he hadn’t missed his shot with the most beautiful woman in the room. Because he had had a shot, and I knew it. Even as pissed as I was, I still cared for him.
And then I saw him. My man of the hour. The sleaziest slime ball in the room. But, at least he wasn’t a buyer. I could tell that because his wrist was as empty of a briefcase as my ring finger was of an engagement band.
Frosted tips, flashy suit, Italian shoes, and a hundred dollar tie. The exact polar opposite of Ford. This man right here, he was mine.
He looked me up and down as I came up to him, his eyes taking in all of me like a ravenous dog. “Well, look at you, baby. You look like a million bucks, you know that?”
“Thank you,” I purred, and took a sip of champagne. “Not so bad yourself, handsome.”
He beamed like I’d just bought him a new car.
“Tanner Wilde,” he said, offering me his hand.
I clasped it lightly. “Micah Davies. Charmed.”
“You ever thought of being in the movies?” Tanner asked with a sly smile.
“I have, actually. Don’t tell me you’re an agent or something.”
“Am I that transparent, baby?”
“Oh, I wouldn’t say that. So you really are an agent, Mr. Wilde?”
“Tanner, baby, all the girls call me Tanner. I take it since you’re down here on the floor, mingling with us guests, you ain’t one of the girls going up on the stage later?”
“You’d be correct, Tanner.”
He waggled his eyebrows. “That’s a crying shame, Micah, ’cause I got a feeling you’d break the Mansion record for bids. Wouldn’t you?”
I smiled with my eyes over the top of my champagne flute. “Oh, I don’t know about all that,” I admitted. “But do you really think so?”
“Oh, baby, I know so. You got a certain class about you, ain’t none of these girls got. It’s in those hips, and the way you look hotter than sin, but ain’t trashy about it, either.”
I laughed, touched his arm. “Well, I think I just found my favorite man of the evening.”
He grinned and raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, baby? Sweetest thing any of you girls have said to me all night. And I’m paying to be here.”
I glanced back and saw Ford just staring at me through the crowd. I turned my attention back to Tanner. “Well, if it makes you feel any better, I’m getting paid to be here. But with you around, this sure doesn’t feel like work.”
“You’re right. That does make me feel better.” He downed the rest of his champagne, handed the empty glass off to one of the circulating waiters, and took another, raising it to me. “To opportunities, Ms. Davies.”
I lifted my glass and returned the gesture. “Absolutely, Mr. Wilde. Absolutely.”