Buy Me Page 6

  But tilting my head back, craning my neck to look up at the imposing stone structure, suddenly, I wasn’t so sure anymore. I had Jared in the palm of my hand physically, but it was like playing with fire. Mr. White was a dangerous man, and I’d only seen a small facet of his personality last night. He was a stranger, someone I hadn’t even known twenty-four hours ago, and now here I was, ready to follow him anywhere. Oh god, oh god, what had I done? Doubts rushed over my frame, knees going weak.

  But it was too late because the car door was already opening, and I stepped into the darkness of the night, disoriented somewhat. But the bright glare of a streetlight helped me focus, helped me regain my confidence, and I walked into the marble foyer, a pep to my step.

  “Hello, I’m here to see Jared White,” I announced with a bright smile at the concierge. “Abigail Williams here to see Mr. White,” I enunciated clearly, and whaddya know, but my newfound confidence worked. An elevator whisked open silently, seemingly by itself, and the bearish man nodded at the lift.

  “Certainly miss. Your ride’s here,” he said, indicating the metal doors, and with a sure strides, I entered the gray box. But once my feet hit the carpeting, my show of bravado gave out because this was no normal elevator. The interior was utterly luxurious, done up with mirrors, reflecting my image again and again, with a plush, cream carpet beneath my feet. Holy cow, white carpeting? They had to replace this thing all the time, white gets dirty so fast. Clearly, money was no object and my nerves jangled again as the elevator whisked me up to the sky. Oh god, I was out of my element, I had to be, and doubts began crowding my mind once again.

  But once the doors pinged opened, well-being cascaded like warm ooze over my frame. Because Mr. White was here. He has one of those apartments where the elevator opens right onto the living space, and the big man was waiting for me, big body looming in the foyer.

  “Hi,” I said breathlessly, shooting him a shy smile. “Long time no see.”

  The billionaire merely tilted his head back and chuckled, pressing a kiss to my forehead, that huge form dressed casually in jeans and blue t-shirt. Hell, he looked insanely good, the shirt hugging his broad shoulders, emphasizing those developed pecs, legs long and strong, sheathed in denim. I resisted the urge to jump him, to throw myself at him like a desperate little girl, and instead tried to act normal.

  “Nice digs,” I said playfully. “I like the private lift.”

  Jared’s eyebrows lifted.

  “You like?” he rumbled, amused. “That thing costs over a hundred thousand dollars a year to maintain.”

  I gasped. Six figures per year? Just for maintenance? Holy shit, I really was out of my element. And reading the surprise on my face, the alpha nodded wryly.

  “Yeah, who knew right? But it’s fine, it’s a drop in the bucket, nothing more,” he said carelessly. “Come in, honey, make yourself at home. Where’s your stuff?” he frowned momentarily.

  I blushed, stepping into the cream-colored living room, plush sofas and a huge projection TV lined up against the wall.

  “Oh um, I looked through my closet and decided I didn’t like my wardrobe,” I said lightly, shooting him a breezy smile. “I have my toothbrush and personal things right here,” I said, patting my purse, hoping he wouldn’t ask more. After all, I could hardly reveal that Jennelle had had a shit fit when I left, trying to prevent me from leaving by grabbing my duffel and dangling it out of reach.

  He frowned momentarily again, but it was gone in a flash, a lazy smile in its place.

  “No worries, where you’re going you won’t need much in terms of clothes,” he said silkily. “And what you do need, we’ll have made.”

  I stuttered a bit. What the hell? What was this thing about not needing clothes at all? I thought we were going to a cocktail party, not some nude beach on the Caribbean. And I’d guessed that the alpha would buy me any clothes needed, but I didn’t realize that they’d be tailored, cut from whole cloth like haute couture.

  So perching myself gingerly on one of the white couches, I decided to be straight with Jared, to get some answers. After all, I was in the home of a strange man, one whom I’d only met hours ago. Sure, he made my body sizzle and cunt pulse with ecstasy, but still, Fifth Avenue or not, this was someone else’s space and I had to figure out what the hell was going on.

  “Mr. White,” I said sternly, trying to be serious. “I hope you realize that this is crazy, that what I’ve done is really nuts.”

  His brows lifted again, the big man seating himself on the couch next to me, powerful body relaxed and yet filled with restrained energy.

  “Crazy?” he drawled. “Why?”

  I sputtered again.

  “Because I hardly know you. I just met you tonight,” I said meaningfully fixing him with a look. “And yet I’ve left school and come to stay with you here,” I said, gesturing to the luxurious apartment.

  He took a long look around, as if seeing the space for the first time.

  “Jail never looked so nice, huh?” he asked with a wry smile flickering about his lips. “Does prison usually come with a projector TV and gourmet food?”

  I gulped.

  “No, I didn’t mean that,” I protested. “I just meant that I need a clearer picture of things. What’s going on? What’s this party that you’ve invited me to? I need to know more,” I added softly, pleading now. “Please.”

  The big man shot me another lazy smile.

  “I’ll tell you everything you want to know,” he drawled. “Shoot.”

  I took a deep breath, mind whirling. I hadn’t expected Jared to be so straightforward, I thought I’d have to pull the answers from him with subtlety and nuance, tricking him into giving tidbits away. But evidently, that wasn’t how the alpha worked. He was direct and clear, preferring to tackle my questions head-on. So I took a deep breath.

  “First of all, what was that place we were at?” I asked slowly. “What were you doing there, and why did everyone jump at your commands?”

  The big man threw his head back and laughed, white teeth flashing.

  “Honey, you mean that doesn’t happen wherever you go?” he teased. “People aren’t falling over themselves to accommodate you?”

  I bit my lip, shooting him an accusing glance.

  “This isn’t funny,” I huffed, pouting. “I’m trying to ask you a serious question.”

  The big man held his hands up in acquiescence.

  “Okay, okay, I get it,” he growled. “I get it. Questions, right, questions. What were you saying again?”

  I rolled my eyes at him.

  “You know exactly what I asked,” I shot back, exasperated. I swear, the big man was so gorgeous and yet utterly infuriating at once. He played with me, teased me, and it was shocking we were already so comfortable around one another given that we’d only met hours ago.

  “Okay, okay,” he said, holding up his hands once more. “I get it. You’re the boss and I’m here to answer any questions. Let’s see, where were we tonight,” he rumbled, eyes still dancing. “We were at the Club, a place where guys and girls go to have a good time.”

  The Club? What kind of name was that? I shook my head again.

  “More details,” I said, looking at him meaningfully. “I know you know more.”

  Jared shot another lazy grin my way.

  “The Club is short for The Billionaires Club,” he drawled. “It’s a place where rich men go to relax, have a drink, meet some women and unwind,” he said. “Billionaires have needs just like anyone else.”

  I goggled for a moment before shutting my mouth with a snap.

  “So you’re a billionaire?” I asked slowly. “A real billionaire?”

  Jared nodded cheerfully.

  “Not just one billion, but a couple times over,” he stated. “All of us are.”

  But that made me wake up.

  “No way every guy there was a billionaire,” I said skeptically. “The dude I met before you said he sold cars at his uncle’s dealersh
ip. I don’t care how many cars he sells, there’s no way that guy’s worth ten figures.”

  Jared nodded in agreement.

  “Maybe I should be clearer,” he stated. “The Billionaires Club is based in Vegas, but we have off-shoots all over the world. Off-shoots probably isn’t the right word, more like pop-up shops. We open here and there to test different markets, to see what the talent pool’s like in different parts of the world.”

  I scrunched my nose.

  “You mean, to get sales?” I asked, confused. “But what are you selling?”

  And here, Jared paused for a moment.

  “It’s not what we’re selling,” he said smoothly, “But what we’re looking for. We’re looking for girls honey. Girls like you.”

  I shook my head, confused again.

  “There are girls like me everywhere,” I said, a little dazed. This conversation was so strange, opening up vistas that I’d never dreamed of, world that never existed before. Yet he was saying that I was unique? That made no sense.

  “There’s nothing special about me,” I added firmly. “I’m a dime a dozen.”

  A gleam shone in Mr. White’s eyes.

  “That’s where you’re wrong, baby,” he said. “There aren’t girls like you everywhere at all. We search all over the continental United States, even in Europe and Australia, and let me tell you, girls like you are hard to find. It’s like discovering a diamond in a mine. You shovel away a shit ton of dirt and rocks before finding that gem.”

  I paused. This was confusing but if I wanted more information, I had to go with it. So I raised my hands and nodded.

  “Okay, let’s say I am that ‘diamond,’” I acknowledged slowly. “Just for argument’s sake. But what do you want with the girls? Why are you looking for them?”

  Mr. White nodded then, a smile playing about his lips.

  “You’re smart, aren’t you, baby girl?” he chuckled deep in his chest. “We’re looking for females because we sell them,” he said clearly, meeting my eyes straight on. “They’re sold to club members, with their full agreement of course.”

  My spine snapped then and I stared at him disbelieving.

  “I’m sorry?” I asked dumbly. “You sell girls?”

  Mr. White nodded, acknowledging the bizarreness of his words, the utter ludicrousness.

  “The Club holds an auction every now and then. An auction where the most delicious, succulent females are sold to the highest bidder, a select group of billionaires. In return for money, my brothers get a week with their purchase, to enjoy, party, do whatever they want, all in the privacy and comfort of the compound.”

  My mouth literally dropped open then.

  “You’re saying that girls go up for auction. Like at Christie’s or Sotheby’s, like a piece of art. With bidders and buyers, people raising paddles and all that?” I stuttered.

  Mr. White nodded, shrugging his shoulders.

  “It’s not quite like that, but that’s the essence, yes. The girls are sold to the highest bidder, and spend a week with a buyer before receiving their money.”

  I gasped, outraged.

  “What the?” I sputtered. “What girls are doing this? It’s crazy! It can’t be legal.”

  Mr. White merely shrugged again.

  “Naw, it’s all legal honey. We’re billionaires, we make sure that it’s all legit, there are fortunes to be lost if we’re not careful. So yeah,” he continued. “In certain counties of Nevada, this is all legal and that’s why we’re based out in the Silver State. Plus, you’d be surprised at the number of girls who want to be auctioned, who want to show off their bodies, and share a hot week with a rich guy. After all, it’s a shit ton of cash for very little work. Intense yes, but only a week, and if you do it a couple times, you’re set for life.”

  My chin dropped then.

  “How much do they make?” I whispered, mouth dry. “How much do the girls sell for?”

  The big man shrugged.

  “It depends. An auction’s an auction, but the floor price is generally fifty thousand, that’s the minimum. I’ve seen girls go up for as much as two million.”

  I sat back then, all the air going out of my lungs. Two million dollars for a week of work? That was crazy, blowing every pre-conceived notion out of my mind. Everything that I’d previously thought true was suddenly cast into doubt, my values, my judgments, the way I’d been raised. But Mr. White couldn’t be right, there had to be a catch somewhere.

  “But the girls only get a fraction of the sale price, right?” I asked slowly. “Someone else gets the bulk of the money.”

  Mr. White shrugged.

  “Not really. We’re the Billionaires Club, so trust me, there’s more than enough to go around. But yes, the fee is split – fifty percent to procurement, and fifty percent to the girl. With a two million dollar price tag, that’s a million for the girl, minimum,” he said meaningfully.

  I shook my head, confused once again.

  “Procurement? What the hell? What is that, and what’s being procured?”

  The big man threw his head back and laughed again.

  “The girl’s being procured of course,” he said lightly. “Someone’s gotta go out and find these chickadees, screen them, make sure they’re mentally and emotionally healthy, that they know what they’re getting into. Someone’s gotta run the paperwork, the medical check-up, the psych tests, all the good stuff. It’s a tricky job because the Club demands the best, so yeah, if you do this type of recruiting for the Club, you can get really rich. That’s why we have off-shoots,” he added casually. “That’s where you were tonight. We’re always sourcing girls, testing the goods, and the handlers you saw were part of the procurement process.”

  Suddenly, I realized what had happened at the bar, with the sequestered seating spaces, meeting guy after guy after guy. They were testing women. The Billionaires Club had come to NYC to set-up a pop-up spot, to mine the talent in the Tri-State area and see if there were suitable females to ship off to Nevada. And unwittingly, their net had caught me. Mr. White was working procurement for the Club, and he’d ensnared me in the drag.

  “So you work for the Club then,” I stated slowly. “You’re one of their employees.”

  The dark man shook his head, blue eyes glimmering.

  “Naw, I’m a member,” he said. “But you’ve got to keep an eye on things, the boss has to be there himself sometimes, you can’t just let people run off and do whatever. So I came to NYC to see what the set-up was like, to take a look at the talent pool myself. And yeah, this pop-up wasn’t going too well, the dudes they’d invited, the girls that were working were fucking zeros for the most part. I was just about to shut down the production when you waltzed in,” he said with a smile playing over his lips. “You made it worth it, Abby. Girls like you are hard to find, real hard.”

  I sat back, overwhelmed. So Mr. White was telling me that there was this sordid group of dudes, rich as Midas, who bought girls, and he’d come out on a recruiting trip to scope out female flesh on the East Coast. Jared nodded, as if reading my mind.

  “I know it sounds bad honey, but again, you’d be surprised at how many ladies love working for us,” he drawled. “In every capacity,” he added meaningfully, eyes gleaming again.

  I should have felt disgusted. I should have been turned off by the details, by the fact that there were men out there who bought women for money, turning them loose after a week of sex play. But the thing was, if everyone was good with it, and it was all legal, then why was it wrong? Why was it wrong, if everyone was a consenting adult, if money was knowingly exchanged for services? And more importantly, who was I to judge? I was an eighteen year-old naïf, and this tale shocked the senses, yes, but at the same time, I knew enough not to make any split second decisions.

  “So you think I’d be good for the Club,” I said slowly. “You think I’d be a good fit for the auction.”

  Jared nodded then, eyes growing dark.

  “You’re more than
a good fit,” he growled. “You’re absolutely fucking perfect. Like I said, baby, virgins go for a premium and honey, with your intact hymen, you’d go for millions. You’ll be a rich woman if you step onto that stage.”

  My body shivered, but not with anticipation. Because I understood what Mr. White was saying, that if I sold myself, spent a week of my life with some no-name billionaire, I’d hit a gold mine. I could make so much that I’d never have to work again, my pussy would set me up for the good life. But despite all that, I didn’t want it. Call it solid middle-class values, but I’ve never thought about selling my body for money and the thought made me shudder, my soul cringing.

  “But what about you?” I said, trying to sound normal. “What do you get from all this?”

  Mr. White leaned back then, that big frame relaxed yet radiating intensity.

  “I sourced you, but I’m not taking a fee because I’m a club member. Club members don’t get paid for recruitment,” he ground out.

  “But would you bid?” I asked softly. “Would you be there to bid on me?”

  And his eyes turned to ice fire then, blazing hotly as they ate up my curvy form.

  “You bet your bottom,” he growled. “Honey, I’d absolutely bid on you. I’d bid so hard that I’d run my bank account dry, spend my billions to own that sweet body.”

  I paused, blood thrumming in my ears. Because this is what I wanted, this is why I’d left my dorm in a rush on the eve of finals. I wanted to be with this man specifically, not some random dudes with fat wallets, even if they were his brothers. I wanted Jared White, I wanted this alpha specifically. And to hear that he wanted me too made my heart pound, body grow soft and loose.