For the First Time: Twenty-One Brand New Stories of First Love (72 page)

“The surveillance cameras’ wires were cut.”

“Who’d do such a thing?”

“Beats me. You’re the one who was in Dubai and Stockholm at the time of the robberies. It’s not
you
, is it?”

“Ninny, it’s me. I’m busted. I’m a diamond thief.” Rooming with Duckie made his sarcasm contagious. Kiki couldn’t imagine anyone having enough
cajones
to waltz in to the Euro Expo and steal the Iced Sherbet pink diamond.

“Anyway…I got the email yesterday that you’re now in charge of the Paloma’s Gems account. Congrats, boo.” Duckie didn’t appear sincere. He wanted that promotion, too. Instead, Duckie had been put on Blake’s lifestyle team, which meant BDSM toys and dog food, not Paloma Gems or Baden Beauty products.

“Isn’t it great? I’m excited. I can’t wait to tell my parents. Dejon was with me when I got the call. There’s so much to do. First—”

He clapped his hands then snapped his fingers. “Kiki! You know Paloma is doing that big publicity stunt at The Style Gala with the The Great Nova of Africa. They’re gonna split the gem right at the conference.”

“Yup. It’s never been done with any stone that size in public. Paloma told me all about it yesterday. She’s invested everything she has into this launch. I’ll get all the press to come. Celebs, too…Rihanna, Ke$ha, you name it.”

“Okay, gurl, now I’m gettin’ excited.”

“My career is riding on this event. I was even thinking of asking Lex Easton to co-design some fashionable diamond items with Paloma.”

Lex Easton had outranked Calvin, Marc, Donna, and Betsy in apparel sales the previous quarter. Easton Essentials, the brand Lex had created, was number one in the world for all things design. It was also Brill, Inc.’s largest client.

“You don’t think…?” Duckie took back the iPad. Plopping himself on the leather sofa with his Miller Lite, he huffed dramatically, “Ahh, nevermind.”

“What? Tell me.”

“All I’m gonna say is that Miss Brill had better hire extra security for your event. But I’ll help ya as much as I can.”

“Come on. You don’t think the robbers will come to New York, do you?” She walked over to him and straightened the pillows that were thrown about.

“Ya never know, gurl. If my business was to steal sparkly things, my pussy sure would be at The Style Gala. Wouldn’t your
pussy
be there, too, boo?”

“Duckie! You don’t have any girl parts. I hate the way you throw
that
word around. It’s vulgar.” Except when Dejon had said it directly to her pink spot, because then it was rather hot.

“What word?” Playing coy, he mocked her. “P-u-s-s-y?”

“Knock it off.” She pushed her suitcase over to her side of the apartment.

“Ha-ha-ha. I do, too, have one. I have a boy-pussy!” He lifted his left leg up like some kind of dog getting ready to piss on a tree.

Kiki screamed into a fit of laughs while taking out her clothes. She sorted the ones for dry cleaning against the ones she’d have to wash later. “You are so nasty. Nice ‘n’ Nasty!”

Wiping the beer from his lips, he lowered his leg and sat up on the sofa. “Where’d ya hear that term?”

“Eh?”

“Do you know what
Nice ‘n’ Nasty
means?”

“Not really…I was hoping you’d tell me.” She sat the empty box near the door and slipped off her shoes. Toe wiggling never felt so good.

“You heard it from one of Birdie Easton’s old glam metal songs, didn’t cha?” Duckie started to sing, “Save Me.”

“While I adore Lex’s mom as a person, I don’t care much for her music. All that sex talk makes my heart jump outta my mouth in ways I’m not familiar. Dejon said
it
to me the other day.” Taking a fresh towel out of the closet, she headed for the bathroom.

“Why the hellaballoo would Dejon Turay utter such raunchiness, while in your sweet presence?” Duckie shouted across the apartment. His voice carried even when he whispered.

Popping her head back into the main room, she answered, “We were, umm. I was giving him a…you know….”

“A view of Utah Valley?” he shrieked with a smile she’d never seen on his face before.

“No, silly. I was giving him a BJ.”

“O. M. F. G!” Duckie screamed. “No fucking way!”

She nodded, leaned against the wall, and tried to act as if what had happened was no biggie. But her mind returned to that special moment with Dejon. He’d told her she was
perfect
. His sex in her mouth was a huge deal for her. There’d be more to come, and soon. On the flight home and more recently in that cab ride, she’d made up her mind—anal sex with her fiancé would happen the second he came back from Africa.

While masturbation was fun and all, it actually didn’t alleviate squat but made her yearnings much stronger. Her vaj was pushing her closer to Bellevue. Plus, they were getting married in a few weeks. She had to keep Dejon happy. He’d moved all the way to New York for her. And to be honest, she loved the intimacy with him. Close to having an orgasm a few times, she felt that moment bonded them all the more.

Duckie leapt over to her so fast he nearly knocked her down. “Spill it, bietch. I want the deets. Is Dejon Turay—hottest man I’ve ever seen, muscular, British accent-speaking and disc jockey famous—as hung as he looks?”

“What makes you say such
things
?”

“I’ve often tried to picture his cock in my mind. He must have a third leg.” Duckie grabbed her shoulders as if it was life or death.

“Why would you assume that?” Come to think of it, she sorta understood the third leg thing. That would be a
yes,
but she wouldn’t tell Duckie.

“Miss Brill, Mr. Morgan, Vive, Lex—fuck, pretty much everyone has noticed Dejon’s alien-esque fingers.”

About to howl, she bit down on the towel.
Oh, my gosh.

“Similar to ET in that Steven Spielberg movie. If Dejon’s digits are as long as fuck and go from here to Hollywood, then his dick must hang from here to Africa, boo. Tell me!”

“No way.”

“I bet his nuts are the size of grapefruits.” He blew up his cheeks as if he had a mouth full.

“Stop.”

“Is he cut or uncut?”

“I’m going to take a shower now.” Still laughing, she turned back for the bathroom.

“Dammit. You’re no fun. I had bets lined up on this one.”

“Get dressed. We’re going to work.” Kiki closed the door and started the shower. She realized she still didn’t know what ‘Nice ‘n’ Nasty’ meant, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to anymore.

*     *     *

Unique is being made into a full length contemporary romance in the Manhattanites series! You can find out more about this project
here
. In the meantime, start reading the Manhattanites series from the beginning with
Unscrupulous
now.

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NEWSLETTER

Jenika Snow

S
he had to
be insane, or maybe she was desperate enough to stoop this low.

You’re both.

Either way, she couldn’t turn back, couldn’t say fuck it, and go home. She’d signed a contract, selling herself, her virginity, to the highest bidder. It was dirty and wrong; but she had bills to pay, rent, and tuition, and working as a secretary just didn’t cut it. This was getting down in the trenches, so to speak, but when she’d been researching ways to make extra income, searching for jobs, she’d somehow come across the auction.

Closing her eyes, she thought about what she’d started weeks ago, the doctors that tested her, made sure she was clean, and an actual virgin. It was all part of the contract she’d signed, all part of the rules she had to follow.

One night and she’d sell her virginity to a man. If she weren’t desperate for that money, all of which would be hers, she obviously wouldn’t be here. But life was a fickle bitch, and she’d had no other option.

But the truth was also she was lucky. She knew this was exclusive and that getting picked to be on that stage was probably the luckiest thing that could have ever landed in her lap. She didn’t know the exact amount the winning bidder would pay for her, but she’d been told what the minimum bid would be, and it was well worth her time.

Yeah, selling virginities to wealthy businessmen, solely for popping a cherry, sounded so lewd. God, it sounded disgusting, raunchy, but she’d be lying if she didn’t admit it was a little exciting.

Wait until you see who you’re spending the night with before you feel that excitement.

At twenty-one, Rose wasn’t a prude in the sexual department. She might not have had actual intercourse, not because she was saving herself or anything, but because she had been so busy with taking care of her brother that she just hadn’t had the energy or the libido to think about going all the way.

But she’d experimented a little in high school: blow jobs, getting eaten out, even getting a rim job once. The latter had been something totally different all on its own, something she wasn’t sure she wanted to experience again.

Rose exhaled and smoothed her hands over her skirt. She didn’t know what to expect tonight. Well, she did because she signed the contract, but she didn’t know exactly how she’d feel standing on that stage and having strange men look at her.

What if the man that bought her was old, like grandfather old? What if he was disgusting in the things he wanted to do to her? The contract had been clear-cut, even if in simple terms, but that didn’t mean she’d fully understood it all. What she did know was the man that bought her wasn’t allowed to hurt her, not unless she wanted that kind of…experience. All of this was only acceptable if she was a willing participant in the activities.

Too late to change your mind now.

It was true. Since she’d signed that contract, if she were to back out now, she would be liable for monetary fines. It had been in legal terms, but she’d understood that much.

You can do this.

Looking behind her, and seeing the taillights of the limo that had picked her up for the event fade in the distance, she knew she was truly stuck here. She was out in the middle of nowhere and standing at the rear of a mansion that resembled something that the President might live in.

Taking one more deep breath, she faced forward, and placed her foot on the first stone step. Then she was walking up the stairs, her heart beating so hard and fast she felt it in her throat, heard it in her ears. Three hard knocks to the smooth, pristine wood of the door, and Rose was taking a step back. It seemed like forever before anyone answered, but when the door opened, it was a man dressed in livery that stepped aside, allowing her entrance, but saying nothing.

Rose went inside, the door shutting behind her, and then she was led toward another door. After that, everything seemed like a blur as they walked down a hallway, descended a flight of stairs, and entered this large, almost cavernous room. Inside were about ten other women, all silent, none of them moving as they stood in line. Each one was taken away, down another long hallway, and when they returned they wore a long white robe, their hair up, and their skin flushed.

“As per the contract, you’ll be groomed, cleaned, and prepared for the winning bidder. You are not to speak to each other, and when on stage, you are to follow the auctioneer’s directions, allowing the bidders to see every part of you.”

Rose looked at the man that spoke. His face held no emotion. As she nodded, feeling lightheaded, she asked herself for the thousandth time what in the hell she’d gotten herself into.

*     *     *

He felt calm,
collected, but there was a touch of excitement moving through his veins.

“Mr. Caldwell, welcome.”

The man in black livery opened the massive wrought iron gates. His driver, Franklin, drove the stretch limo up the paved driveway, past the immaculate landscaping, and pulled to a stop.

Jaxon stepped out of the limo before Franklin could open the door for him. The truth was, despite the social circles Jaxon ran in, the fact he had more money than he’d ever be able to spend in his lifetime, and the numerous auctions he’d been invited to, this was the first one he’d ever contemplated attending. And it was all because of Rose.

He smoothed his hands over his black three-piece suit, staring up at the mansion that held the auction this time around. The auctions were held in different locations each time; the women that would be bid upon were always willing. This was an exclusive invitation only event, one that would have around twenty of the wealthiest men in the world being given the chance to bid upon certified virgins.

Having Rose sign up for this hadn’t been a mistake or an accident. He’d planned it, knew she had financial problems because of her brother’s illness. He’d wanted her, had for years, and because he was a selfish, dirty bastard, he’d used her problems to his advantage. He’d sent her an anonymous invite about the event.

Surprisingly, she’d been desperate enough that she hadn’t questioned any of it too hard. Or maybe she had, but because that desperation ate away at her, she hadn’t cared.

Jaxon was an asshole for not bringing his intentions to the surface, but he was her employer, had the reputation of being a shark, a motherfucker when things didn’t go his way. She was afraid of him in the sense that he was her boss, and he’d never shown her an ounce of friendly banter. He kept a wall up around him at work and in the boardroom. Showing weakness was not something that would help a man out in life, would not equal to success.

So, over the last two years that she’d been working for him, he’d watched her, desired her, hell, he’d fucking jerked off to the image of her. She was shy and timid, didn’t speak up, and didn’t cause trouble. She acted like a submissive in every sense of the word, but it wasn’t an act, and that’s what turned Jaxon on like nothing else in this fucking world.