BUY ME (Mistress Auctions Book 2)

W
elcome back
to the Mistress Auction. This time it’s Halloween, and Mandy is going to have a wickedly good time.

Working for Charles was a nightmare, and now that Mandy's time with him is up, there's only one way to satisfy her suppressed desires. The Mistress Auction can help her get Charles out of her system and start afresh.

Charles has been watching and waiting for months. He has bided his time, and now is his chance to take what he wants. Mandy has entered the Mistress Auction, and he's got a plan to make her his. But thirty days of her cuffed to his bed won't be enough.

What do you do when the woman you want tries to run from you? Easy. Buy her.

W
arning
: This book plays with Dominance and submission, cuffs, spankings, lap sitting, hair pulling, crawling, and begging... If any of that turns you on, then come play with Mandy and Charles.

C
opyright
© 2015 by Alexa Riley. All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, email to [email protected]

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ttp
://alexariley.com/

Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.

Edited by
Aquila Editing

T
his is dedicated
to Alexa’s Addicts. You guys are so greedy… and I LOVE IT! Your secrets are safe with me!

“
T
his is freaking delicious
.” I lick the rim of my lemon drop martini again.

Tiffany lets out a snort and it somehow comes out sexy, just like everything she does. Hell, she’s one of the main attractions here at the Snake Eyes; her burlesque show sells out every night there's a show. “I'm pretty sure you said the first one tasted like ass.”

“Well, they must have gotten a new bartender, because this one tastes like sweet heaven.” I prove my point by gulping down the rest of the drink, enjoying the sour burn at the back of my throat.

“Hmm, it could be that. Or the fact that it’s your fourth one, but we can go with the bartender thing if you like.” Smiling at me over her own martini, she kills hers too. Tossing her perfectly manicured hand in the air, she signals for two more drinks. The young pretty-boy waiter with short blond curls hops to, hoping to get any of Tiffany’s attention that he can.

I glance down at my outfit. Maybe I’d get more male attention if I dressed the part. It wasn’t something I’d wanted before. A long time ago I caught the wrong man’s attention, but that had been years ago. Since the two men who kind of took me under their wing and raised me fell in love with the woman of their dreams, I found myself feeling envious. Seeing what they have makes me long for something more, only no one seems to notice me.

I’m still wearing what I wore to work today, having just met Tiffany down in one of the casino bars for a drink. I’m celebrating my final day here, and Tiff said we had to have one last hurrah. Looking over at Tiff, I see her watching me.

“I look out of place next to you.” I can feel myself scrunching my nose as I compare the two of us.

“No, you just need to loosen up.” Hopping down from her chair, she straightens her short dress before standing in front of me. The lights of the bar bounce off her blonde wavy hair. “May I?” she asks, but before I can agree, she does what she wants anyway.

She pulls my dark hair down from my ponytail, letting it cascade down my back. She runs her fingers through it before giving it a nice fluff. “Wow, your hair is so long and gorgeous. Why do you keep it up all the time?”

“So it’s not in my way.”

I’m all about function, and a ponytail just makes sense to me. It’s out of the way, and I like things to be efficient and practical. Not only that, but when I do my job I like to blend into the background. Sometimes when people forget you’re there, you can get the upper hand on them in the future. The Cortez brothers taught me to always let other people do the talking. They’ll dig their own grave and you’ll get what you want in the end without getting your hands dirty.

Reaching into her purse, she hands me her lipstick, and then starts unbuttoning my shirt. “What are you doing?” I make a move to stop her, but she pushes my hands out of the way.

“Letting the girls out to breathe a little. Oh, nice, a red bra. It matches the lipstick perfectly.” She pops a few more buttons, and I should stop her, but I can't seem to find the will to care. The four lemon drops are making me feel a bit braver. If she thinks it looks hot, then why the hell not?

“All right, stand up.”

I hop down from my own chair and straighten my wobbly legs. She peers up at me, giving me a wicked look. “You and those heels. You have incredible legs.”

I live for heels. They’re my one indulgence. I don’t care that I’m already a tall girl; I still wear them. They make me feel sexy, and I’d probably sleep in them if I didn’t think I’d shred my sheets. Tiffany eyes my legs as the waiter makes his way back to us, setting down the next round of drinks.

“Hey, pretty boy. Got some scissors around here?”

“Sure thing, Miss Foxy.”

“How do you wrap them around your finger like that?” I ask, watching the waiter retreat quickly to do as Tiffany asked. He’s probably hoping for just a sliver of her attention.

She rolls her eyes at my question. “They’re in love with Foxy Bow, a person I play on stage, not me.” I can hear the irritation in her words, but she smiles as she talks. I can see through what she’s saying since I’ve gotten to know her the past thirty days. I’ve been here serving out my contract and we’ve slowly become good friends in that time.

All kinds of men flock to her, promising her a world of riches and everything she could ever want. She always turns them down, not wanting any of it. I had been a little envious of how easy it was for her to get a man’s attention, but now I can see it’s not so sweet on the other side. Most people want the fantasy of her, but no one knows who she really is. The first mistake most men make is promising her money. She has the top-selling show on the strip; Tiff is not in need of anything.

“I’m sorry.” I try to offer her comfort, but don’t want to push it. If she wants to talk about it she will. I know better than anyone that sometimes you don’t want to talk about things from your past that haunt you. It’s best to leave them there, and maybe they’ll finally go away.

“I don’t need to be someone’s trophy,” is all she says.

Quickly, the waiter returns, scissors in hand. Dropping in front of me, Tiff goes to work on my pencil skirt, taking several inches off the bottom and adding a slit up my thigh on both sides.

“Damn, Mandy. You look crazy hot now.”

I feel my face warm at her words, but maybe it’s the alcohol coursing through my system. Glancing down at myself again, I can’t help but smile.

“Drink up. The band starts in about thirty minutes, and you need to drink however many drinks it takes you to get on the dance floor.”

I feel so relaxed and sexy sitting back in my chair, the slits in my skirt showing off my thighs. I take a long sip from my new drink, and lick the remaining sugar from the rim. Maybe I should have told her I don’t need another to make me dance, but I don’t have to because as soon as the first song blasts across the bar, I find myself on top of a table with Tiff as she teaches me some of her favorite moves from her shows.

The bar patrons cheer as we lose ourselves in the music. I can’t remember the last time I had this much fun or felt this free—no responsibilities sitting on my shoulders. Tomorrow is a new day. I just can’t bring myself to care about anything other than this moment. Throwing my head back, I close my eyes and let the music take me. Until the spell is broken by the bane of my existence.

“Get your ass down right fucking now.”

Dropping my head forward, I open my eyes to see Mr. Townsend standing there. He looks as hard as ever, with a jaw that could crack stone. For once in my life I’m actually taller than him because I’m up on the table. It’s not often a man towers over me with thanks to my height and my love of heels, but he does. There was no way to miss it, not when he hovered over my every move while I worked for him. He acted like I was an incompetent moron who didn’t know how to do their job. He gave me projects I could do in my sleep, and still micromanaged me. He never trusted me with anything, and it annoyed me every second of the past thirty days.

This past month has been daunting. At first, I bit my tongue because he was my boss, but then a few times I couldn’t help it and made a few snide remarks. When he seemed to like it, I decided to ignore him. It is difficult to do because even though I have the urge to kick him in the balls a few times a day, he is attractive. No. ‘Attractive’ isn’t the right word. He’s hard and gruff—
so
not traditionally handsome. The attraction I feel for him rubs on my nerves. I feel this draw to him, but I hate it. How can I want a man who thinks I’m a nitwit?

“Make me, Sir.” I throw out the title he hates so much. Every time I use it, he corrects me. Well, he’s not my boss anymore, so the most he can do is kick me out of his casino. I’ll be leaving in the morning anyway, so what do I care.

“Tiffany. Down,” he snaps at Tiff, but he keeps his dark eyes on me. Like everyone around here, she quickly jumps to his command.

“Fine.” I roll my eyes before awkwardly getting down from the table top. I plop into my chair, pretending Charles isn’t standing there. Picking up my drink, I take three big gulps, finishing it off. Why don’t I do this more often? My whole body feels warm and fuzzy. All the stress and strain I normally carry seem to leave my system with each drink I take.

Like always when I ignore him, he pushes himself into my space. “We have a seven o’clock meeting, and you're three sheets to the wind, Ms. Burch.” His voice is thick with irritation. Like he had to come down here and babysit me. This happens every time I stop somewhere after work and hang out for a little while. He always pops up and starts barking orders at whoever I’m with. Either that or asking me a million and one questions about his itinerary, questions he could easily find the answers to if he just opened his stupid phone and looked. A few times he would even track me down when I was having dinner, and join me without asking, just to ask me pointless questions to things he already knew!

“No,
you
have a meeting at seven,” I respond, correcting him. He’s not my boss anymore. Nope. Contract complete. A contract I only agreed to because the Cortez brothers asked me, and I’d do almost anything for them. They came into my life when I needed someone, and we made our own little makeshift family. We may not share blood, but they are my brothers. I worked as their assistant for six years, so when they came to me about taking up a thirty-day work contract with Mr. Townsend, I agreed. I could tell it meant something to them, and that he must have been holding something over their heads. I didn't ask and they didn't tell me. Knowing he blackmailed them only made me more pissed at the man. But it doesn't matter now. Time's up. I did my thirty days, and I’m free to go. I don’t have to play nice anymore.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Where I go you go.” He’s pissed and standing so close I can feel the heat of his body behind my chair. He did make me go everywhere with him because he didn’t trust me to do anything right. He had to oversee every detail of everything I did. I look over at Tiff and roll my eyes again. But she just keeps looking between us with a shocked look on her face. I don't blame her for not jumping in; she still works here.

“Not anymore. Contract is up.” My face is smug as I turn to look into dark eyes. Something I noticed a lot of people avoid, but I don’t. He’s closer than I thought, leaning over where I sit. The high-top chair brings me to eye level with him, and I watch as his eyes drop to my mouth.

“Sugar,” I say, referring to the sugar he probably sees on my lips. I’ve been licking it off all the martinis I ordered tonight.

“Sugar?” He mimics me, pulling his eyes from my lips.

I don’t know what possesses me, maybe the underlying attraction I feel towards him, or maybe the alcohol. Hell, maybe I just want to get a rise out of him and see what he’ll do. Mostly, I know it’s because, come tomorrow, I’ll likely never see him again. Vegas is a little city at times, but I can avoid crossing paths with him. I think all those reasons combined have me pressing my lips against his.

At first, I don’t think he’s going to respond, his lips firm and unyielding against mine. But when I go to pull away with embarrassment, I feel one of his hands snake into my hair, grabbing a fistful and holding me in place as he makes the kiss his own.

It isn’t soft, not that I thought a kiss from him would be. No, everything about him is hard and forceful, just like he’s kissing me now. Taking control, he grips my hair tighter, and a moan falls from my lips, making them part for him. His tongue pushes in as he hungrily eats at my mouth. I’m so overtaken by the kiss that I’m not even sure I’m kissing him back.

Too soon, he pulls away from my lips, only to go to my neck. He trails open-mouthed kisses up my throat to my ear, like he can't get enough of me. He uses his hold on my hair to expose my neck and to take what he wants. My body seems to come to life, and a feeling washes over me like I’ve never felt before. Desire. It’s pure need, and something I’m not used to feeling.

“Holy shit,” I hear Tiff say, and it breaks my lust-filled bubble.

I come back to reality and realize I’m in a bar with everyone staring at us. After all, the owner of the casino just went at a girl in the middle of the room. It’s not like Charles is a man to be missed. He takes up a lot of space, and everyone knows who he is. He’s one of the richest men in Vegas.

In the time I’d worked him, I’d never seen Charles with a woman. Oh, they threw themselves at him all right, but he always acted like it was a nuisance. Maybe he didn’t mix business and pleasure, or maybe he’s married.

I’ve never seen a ring on his finger, but this is Vegas. Men here think they can do whatever they want, and a lot of the wives don’t mind as long as they get to keep living the life they’re used to. If I ever got married, I’d want to be my husband’s everything. Like my brothers are with their soon-to-be wife, Stella.

I push at his chest, and he breaks away from my neck, releasing my hair.

“It’s time to go.” It’s his classic ‘do as I say’ voice that he uses on all his employees. Once again, he has forgotten I’m not his anymore.

“No.’ I turn back around in my chair, dismissing him. I grab my drink, but then realize I’m holding an empty glass. Did I drink it all already? Huh.

“Come on, Mandy, let’s head out.” Tiff grabs her purse, and I can only bet Charles is shooting her a look behind me.

“Why? I’m having fun, and he can’t make me leave unless he kicks me out of his casino. Are you kicking me out of your casino?” I have to turn to look at him again, and I can't help the arrow of desire that shoots to my pussy when I see the red smudge of lipstick I left all over his mouth. He’s always so brooding, and I can’t help but love that I smeared it on him, dulling the effect of his sternness somewhat. My mouth must look the same.

He studies my face before a cocky grin shows on his mouth, letting me know he’s two steps ahead of me. Motioning to one of the security guards walking around, he leans over and whispers something in his ear. The guard disappears into the seething mass of dancers on the floor.

“I’d never kick you out of my casino,” Charles says smoothly.