“You want to hold it by the stem so the wine doesn’t warm from your body heat.”
“Oh … okay.” I slid my hand down to the stem.
“Let me take your purse.”
“I’ll just set it by the door and take my heels off—”
“No, bella. You leave your heels on.”
On my way to the entry table, I took big gulps of the sour wine. I still didn’t understand why adults drank such nasty shit. I was used to Kool-Aid since it was all we could afford. Wine and champagne tasted nothing like grape flavored Kool-Aid.
“You like?” Marco asked when I turned around after placing my purse on the glass top table. I looked down at the nearly empty glass. I didn’t need to hold it by the stem after all. I gave a tight smile and nodded.
There was a slight squeak from the cork as he removed it from the wine bottle and I handed him my glass. My head was starting to feel light as I had to focus a few times on the liquid coming out of the bottle. He handed me the glass and I grabbed it, holding the stem between fingers and that was when we touched for the first time. I wanted to jump back, run from the room and into the elevator—right … the elevator. He was bound to catch me. Instead, I smiled at him and he smiled back.
“You have a lovely smile, bella.”
I blushed at his compliment, even if it was coming from someone who’d paid to take my virginity. I wasn’t used to getting them. “Thank you,” I responded.
“Come. Let’s go into the bedroom and get comfortable.”
It sounded as if he did this sort of thing all the time. Maybe he did. Did he only do it with girls my age? Maybe some girls needed money for college and sold their virginity themselves. Maybe there were strippers who wanted to make extra money. Or maybe there were other girls like me who had no idea they were being sold until it was too late.
My legs felt heavy as I took each step, but I continued to take big gulps of the wine despite its taste. The more I drank, the more my nerves were starting to calm down. I started to slip my shoes off again, but Marco tsked.
“No, bella. You leave your heels on.”
“The entire time?”
He smiled and I wanted so badly to like his smile, but everything was wrong about this night. “Yes.”
I took another big gulp of my wine until there wasn’t anymore. He reached his hand out for the glass and I handed it to him, expecting him to refill it, but instead he placed it on the desk behind him and then twirled his finger as if he wanted me to turn around. I did.
“Tony always sends me the most beautiful girls. He knows which ones are my type.” I felt him come up behind me and I held my breath. “Your dark brown hair is the perfect length to wrap around my fist while I fuck you from behind.”
I swallowed. “Um, what?”
I heard a slight chuckle. “They always think their first time is going to be slow and sweet, that I’ll wine and dine them. You had your wine, bella, but once you’re sweet, tight pussy is wrapped around me, it’s not going to be slow or sweet.”
I listened to the sound of running water as a single tear fell from the corner of my eye, but I couldn’t let Marco see. The clock on the nightstand told me that there was still thirty minutes left of my date.
The haze from the alcohol had worn off, and between my legs ached, but I was happy and thankful it was over—at least I thought it was. Marco hadn’t given me further instructions before he’d left to shower, but he had been in there for at least two minutes. I thought he’d come back for me, insist I take one with him. He hadn’t. I glanced at the clock one more time and then toward the bathroom when I noticed his wallet on the nightstand next to the bed. Immediately a million thoughts cross my mind.
There was only one I acted on, though.
I jumped from the bed, noticing the blood between my legs as I slipped on my panties, managing to get them caught a few times in my heels. After I’d finally got the cotton bikini panties righted, I pulled my dress on, barely able to zip the back, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t sure how much time I had and I didn’t know if Jose would be at the elevators early waiting for me.
When I opened Marco’s wallet, I noticed a few credit cards, but if Tony had cops on his payroll like he’d said, then they’d track me down. I’d seen it happen on television. Bypassing the cards, I opened the wallet further and pulled several bills from the inside before I grabbed my purse and opened the front door.
The shower was still running as I made a dash for the metal doors. Thankfully, Jose wasn’t standing by the elevator. I pushed the down button repeatedly, praying that they would open, but before they did, I made a last minute decision to use the stairs instead.
When I opened the stairwell door, I remembered that I was on the twenty-seventh floor. My heart was pounding and the ache between my legs was unbearable, but there was no time for me to think about what had just happened in the hotel room. I needed to get out of the hotel before Marco, Jose, or even Tony saw me. I didn’t know what my plan was, but I had a wad of cash and no desire to go back home to the woman who sold her daughter.
After three flights of stairs, I slipped off my heels and ran the rest of the way as fast as possible. By the time I’d reached the bottom, I was out of breath and my adrenaline was through the roof. I didn’t see or hear anyone following me as I gave one last look up the stairwell before I exited and burst into the humid Miami night.
The door emptied on the side of the hotel and instead of going to the front where I assumed Jose had the limo parked, I ran the opposite way toward the back. My lungs were on fire, my hair was sticking to my neck, and rocks were digging into the soles of my feet, but I kept running. This was life or death to me.
“… you and your mother are going to pay.”
She deserved to pay after she’d sold her own daughter to be a whore, but I would miss Bryce. My eyes began to sting at the thought of never seeing him again, but there was no way I could go back for him. Mrs. McKenna would take care of him if something happened to Mother, I was certain of it. But right now, I needed to save myself and get the hell out of here.
As I approached the street, a taxi was coming and I flagged it down. It stopped and I jumped in.
“Where to?” the driver asked.
I had no idea. I just needed to get away from the hotel. I thought for a moment. “Um … Is there a bus or a train station nearby?”
“There’s a Greyhound station,” he replied in an Armenian accent, “but it’s not that close.”
I meet his gaze in the rearview mirror. “That’s perfect. Thank you.”
“The fare will cost you.”
“That’s okay.”
“You sure?”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
Chapter Four
Paul
Twelve years later …
Present Day
Helping my best friend plan his proposal felt as though someone had a death grip on my heart and wouldn’t let go.
For the last ten or so years, I hadn’t been able to think about spending the rest of my life with only one woman. After Vanessa, I didn’t want to be tied down. I wanted as much pussy as I could get. And I was getting it. Now helping Gabe pick out the ring for Autumn and coming up with the proposal brought back memories of her and how you’re supposed to marry your first love. At least that’s what I’d thought.
They say things happen for a reason …
Cochran, Gabe’s first love, had died in his arms while we were in Afghanistan on a MEDEVAC call. Autumn was perfect for him, though—maybe more so than Cochran. But, of course, I’d never tell him that.