Total pages in book: 33
Estimated words: 30557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 153(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 30557 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 153(@200wpm)___ 122(@250wpm)___ 102(@300wpm)
Chapter Two
Candy
With a tug on my overly short dress, my ass is barely covered as we make our way through the busy casino past all the gamblers and drunks whose eyes haven’t left my rear or my huge tits that practically fall out of my dress. “Stop it. You look so unprofessional.”
The scoff that leaves my throat earns me another disapproving look. “That’s because I am, and you shouldn’t scowl because it shows your age.” She flashes me a glare before presenting me with her perfected look of sophistication.
I’m legally not allowed to be in here, and if they knew the truth, I’d be out on my ass. However, if you know the right people, they’re willing to look the other way, especially when your own mother is willing to sell off your pussy to a man in an attempt to make a killing. A lifetime fortune, actually.
“Well, it’s time you learned to be a professional. I can’t keep feeding you. You’re going to earn your keep one way or another, and I’m not accepting pennies from the diner,” she snaps, informing me for the millionth time this week. We live in a trailer park just off the main strip because she can’t stop gambling all our money away.
“You know, it’s not like he’s going to sleep with me and I’m going to get pregnant,” I hiss, making our way into the hotel bar.
A smile spreads over her face, causing my stomach to churn. “Oh, sweetheart. Please trust your mother.” God, I feel sick. My own mother is pimping me out. She’s thirty-six and looks like she’s in her late twenties because she’s good with her makeup and staying out of the harsh sun, but her heart is dark and shriveled up like an old witch’s.
“There they are,” she says, tilting her head toward the corner of the bar where two men sit in a round booth. I freeze as my entire body absorbs what I see before me. Oh my God. He’s insanely gorgeous.
The man who looks bored and annoyed is slightly facing the bar and has my full attention with his dark black hair, nicely trimmed facial hair, and light brown eyes. His build is large and strong appearing even from the sitting position, like he carries himself with strength and power naturally. My thighs are shaking with nervous anticipation just looking at him.
My mother tugs me along. “Don’t get cold feet on me now.” Nothing on me is cold that is until I turn to the other man sitting next to him.
However, the other one immediately gives me an icky feeling. Please tell me that she’s giving me the grumpy one to attempt to seduce. At least if it doesn’t work, I can be happy. I have a feeling the slimeball will gladly take me even if I turn him down.
Suddenly the slimeball nudges the one with the scowl, and then his eyes fix onto us. His brow raises and his mouth flattens. My mother drags me to them, and my body wars with itself on whether I should run to or from this man.
“Come, ladies, please sit.” I hear the words, but my heart hasn’t stopped thumping in my chest, so I don’t move.
“Thank you. I’m Sheila, and this is Candy.”
“Candy?” the brooding man asks with disgust. “Is that your real name?” I’m not offended because I hate my name too.
“Yes,” she answers for me.
“I asked her,” he informs my mother with a look of repulsion. Looking back at me, he orders, “Come sit down.” He pats the seat next to him. I hesitate, and he raises his brow expectantly. “I said, come sit.”
“We’re not paying to be annoyed, ladies. Sebastian doesn’t like to repeat himself. I’m David. Come sit by me, Sheila.” He winks at my mother, who has no problem practically falling into the greasy prick’s lap.
I finally sit next to the man who has my pulse racing, wondering if I’m in over my head. No, there’s no wondering. I’m so over my head.
Why does his name have to be sexy too? Sebastian.
“You barely look old enough to be in here,” Sebastian says, looking at me up and down.
“Well, I am,” I spit out too quickly to be believed.
“What can we get you ladies to drink?” the slimy pig asks.
“We’ll have two margaritas. Now, fellas, what brings you to Vegas? Business or pleasure?” my mother purrs, laying it on thick as she brushes her hand on her date’s chest. I’m so unsure of myself that I don’t say a word.
“Both,” the slimy bastard says.
David’s staring at my breasts, spreading an uncomfortable chill through me, and that’s when I slyly move my hair to block my cleavage. “David, eyes on yours only, understood?”
“Yes, Sebastian.” Internally, I’m pleased that he can control David, but I don’t show any emotion. The waitress comes to our table before we have to call for her, and she has to be absolutely gorgeous, of course. The slimeball winks at her as if we’re not there and she politely smiles back, but all of her attention is on my target.