Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 104165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Well shite. There’s no saying anything against his sainted mam, may she rest in peace, his stepdad, Silas. No matter that the man’s doing ten to fifteen for bank robbery.
“Plus,” I swig down the rest of my drink, “I hardly think a woman getting a paycheck for her cherry’s looking to settle down.”
“I don’t know,” Caleb grins at me. “I’d think a billionaire would be a hell of an attractive get for a woman down on her luck.”
I give him my deadpan stare.
“C’mon. You’re such a closed off prick,” Caleb says. “I met the girl. Moira brought her by the club this week. She’s sweet. Real genuine.”
“Even worse. I don’t like sweet. I like silent. Preferably masked and faceless. Fucked up with daddy issues or whatever makes them like getting the shit flogged out of them.”
Caleb turns his whole face towards me and frowns. “Dude. That’s dark.”
I sigh on the inside. It’s so tedious to keep up this facade. All this pretending to be something other than what I am, just so I can walk around in normal society. If it weren’t for Moira, I wouldn’t make nearly as much effort. There’s not much I wouldn’t do for my sister.
Still, I’m a sadist. Deep in my dark little core, I like to hurt people. It brings me pleasure. Such great, deep-down pleasure, it’s the only time I feel alive.
One would think that Caleb, being the owner of the most exclusive BDSM club in Dallas, would understand people like me. But in spite of the life he’s lived, somehow, he’s still soft inside.
“Okay, not this girl, but someone,” he says. “Connection is important. All you do is work and take care of Moira.”
Time to don society’s tedious mask again. I smile winsomely. “Well, you have met my sister. Over and over and over.” I mock a cringe. “And too many times in my face at the club. So maybe you’re not one to talk about taking care of Moira.”
His eyes roll. Façade or not, he’s at least acquainted with me enough to know that I don’t actually give a shit about my sister’s sexual exploits at Carnal. I’m happy about them, in fact. All I’m trying to do is keep my sister safe.
Moira’s what you call an anysexual. Anyone, anywhere, anytime. Addiction runs in families, they say. And our family tree is… well, statistically, Moira and me were fucked before we ever took our first fecking wail.
Carnal is a safe sandbox for her to play in. This world is a fucked ball of death and destruction hurtling towards its inevitable brutal, bitter end. But my sister is somehow still a bright fucking beam of joy and sunshine screaming back into the void. Not that she even knows it. If I have any purpose in this life, it’s to never let anything put that fucking light out.
“I’m serious,” Caleb keeps at it. “You should at least consider taking a short-term sub. You know all the subbies at the club are drooling for you. Why not try?”
His phone buzzes in his pocket, saving me from continuing the useless back-and-forth banter. There’s no point in small talk about how I’m not interested in anything even relationship-adjacent. I am what I am and while I will try to present a socially-acceptable facade, I won’t apologize for it.
“Shit,” he whispers, looking back up at me from the phone. “It’s time.” Anxiety tenses his forehead. “You really think this will work?”
I lean in and mutter quietly, “You see how Eyes Wide Shut we made this shit? These guys are already nutting in their pants to be the one who takes the virgin home.”
Well, not home, but to the privacy of the private rooms, with careful monitoring. Carnal’s bouncer, Isaak, is bar none. I’ve seen that guy toss a biker two times his size out of the club for causing trouble.
And for the highest bidder, the bragging rights alone will make him a legend in their little circle for years to come. Obnoxious male bonding and one-up-man-ship rituals are what really get those pricks off.
I clap Caleb on the back. “It’s gonna be great.”
He nods hard, repetitively for several long moments, then stomps backstage with purpose.
Stubborn bastard. The club is in financial trouble and Caleb refused my offer of the money. Then he refused a no-interest loan. Friendship and money should never mix, the idiot kept repeating.
But the club needs the money, and I need the club for Moira. I even once tried to tacitly explain that I see him less as a friend and his club more as a supply line to what Moira needs, but he just laughed, clapped me on the back—another favorite form of male communication—and said he’d figure something out.
This was his solution. A virgin auction. Apparently, others at the club helped talk him into it. Moira was there and I’m sure she was an amazing voice of reason.