“I’m scared,” I admit, and he sighs.
“If it’s not him, you get out of there, fuck the money.”
I nod, but I know it’s not going to be that simple. There’s no way it will be that simple. You don’t just walk away from crap like this, not from people like this.
“Would you do it,” I ask, “for twenty grand?”
His breath is on my hair. “Henley?”
I nod, and feel him smile.
“Hell, Lissa, I’d probably do Henley for free.”AlexanderI’m contemplating Candice or maybe Elena. Maybe even that perfect little slut Britney Jane if she’s available.
It doesn’t really matter, I just need to pound my cock into some tight little pussy and wrap my fingers around her throat.
I’ve got a backlog of messages from Claude, some new girls, some older offerings whose exclusivity agreements have expired. None of them interest me in the slightest.
I sigh and check out the auction listings. Five pieces of hot new pussy ready to go to the highest bidder.
A pretty dark-haired girl with blue eyes, nice, but literally every single fucking box has a tick in it.
A chubby little redhead with a cute smile, she’s a definite maybe, but the app tells me there have been ten pre-interest bids on her already, and she won’t do anal. Fuck that.
A natural blonde with ridiculously unnatural tits. No. Definitely not.
A girl who’s going for the sexy librarian look but failing miserably. She’s no fucking librarian. No fucking way.
And the final listing. The hot piece of the evening. A certified virgin with hundred grand reserve, Jesus Christ.
I click on the link and up comes her image.
It stops my fucking heart.
She’s young, maybe early twenties, big pretty eyes staring up at the camera. She’s in pink underwear that doesn’t fit very well, a soft innocence on her face that belies her surroundings.
Her light blonde hair is cut in a jagged style, her body petite and pale.
Like Debbie Harry.
She looks like a young Debbie Harry.
My cock twitches and I’m smiling.
I’m a teenager again, jerking myself crazy over the tatty posters on my bedroom wall. Fuck knows how many times I’ve come thinking about fucking that woman. I’ve still got the posters somewhere, folded up in a storage box for prosperity.
And here she is, a good enough replica that my cock’s already pulsing.
I need this. I really fucking need this, virgin or not.
I call Claude and he answers after a single ring.
“I was wondering when you’d grace me with your voice,” he laughs.
I’m not in the mood for jokes.
“I want the virgin,” I tell him. “How much? I’ll get it transferred.”
He ums and ahhs, acting like he’s in a real fucking corner. “No can do, I’ve got pre-interest. A lot of pre-interest.”
“Fuck the pre-interest,” I snap. “Just give me a fucking price, don’t be a prick.”
“Bidding starts at eight,” he says. “I’ll see you there.”
I haven’t got time to argue before the cunt hangs up. I curse the fuck out of him and then I check my watch.
Twenty fucking minutes to get to fucking Chelsea.
I grab my fucking coat.I pull into Claude’s bastard saleroom car park, piling out of the car with a haste that revolts me.
A doorman lets me in when I rap on the front entrance, then locks up behind me.
“Mr Henley, sir.”
I wave him away and pace on through to the back.
Everyone is already assembled, at least fifteen men from my social circle with their crappy bidding cards in the air for the librarian girl. Fifty grand she’s going for.
They are welcome to her.
I ease myself into the back of the room, hoping that nobody gives me a second glance, but old man Kennedy, one of the senior players at the House of Lords, clocks me in the corner of his vision. A nudge to his associate and a smile in my direction, and the whole room is alive with whispers.
My father turns his head, and the grin on his face makes me sick to the stomach.
He heads in my direction and I bristle when he clamps a hand on my shoulder.
“Good call, boy, I knew you’d make it. You here for the librarian, nice piece of pussy, isn’t she?”
“I’m not here for the librarian,” I sneer, and his eyes light up.
“Of course, Blondie, yes.” He tips his head. “You’ll be going up against your old man, Alexander. I’ve got my eye on that one.”
The idea makes me seethe. “Back off,” I hiss. “I get first choice, remember?”
He shakes his head. “Not this time, boy. Not when there’s a pretty pink hymen on offer.” He laughs and slaps my back. “May the best man win.”
There’s no best about it. I try to shrug off the disgust as he heads back through the crowd.
I’m about to walk away on principle, fuck this whole fucking spectacle, but the hammer comes down at sixty-five grand on the brunette, and the next lot flashes up on screen.