Auctioned to the Greek Billionaire (The Highest Bidder Book 1) Read online

  She would be a great pupil for him, and at the same time, she’d teach him how to pleasure a virgin without wrecking her pussy. Well, he wanted to wreck her pussy in a good way. Not the same way Eleni—

  The sound of the door clicking made him turn around.

  At last, Lolita had shown up.

  His heart drummed in his chest, his body temperature quickly rising like he’d just run in the scorching desert. Moisture evaporated from his throat, and a growing lust impacted every part of him.

  She was of medium height, yet her beauty somehow made her taller, bigger, more imposing. Her throat worked visibly. His cock strained against his pants, but he rushed to the swiveling chair, using it as a shield.

  “Hi,” she said, her voice low and sexy.

  “Hi,” he said, her beauty mesmerizing him. Waves of rich brown hair framed her gorgeous face, and the brown eyes called to him. Was it fear or excitement he detected? Whatever it was, it held him captive.

  His gut clenched, and his heart was flipping in his chest, anticipation flowing though his thick veins. He continued his assessment, studying her exquisite features, appreciating her flawless, light-brown skin.

  Her nose was a tad long, and her eyes slanted like a cat. Somehow, it all worked together in harmony, giving her a remarkable face. Hard to forget.

  He clenched the edge of the chair with white-knuckling intensity, wishing he could grasp his desire and tame it as easily. Shit. Her beauty wouldn’t save the company his grandfather had built from the ground up. Her beauty wouldn’t fix the mess his family had started.

  She could, though, help him fix it.

  “What’s your name?” he asked.

  “Amaya.”

  “Theo Rhodes. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He walked to her, stretching out his hand.

  She took it, and the instant his palm touched hers, a wave of heat washed over him, making him incredibly aware of her presence. Perhaps she experienced the same response, for she started a little, as if she’d been shocked. Her sexy bow-shaped lips parted, but she didn’t say anything.

  He didn’t resist and brought her hand to his lips. Groaning, he kissed her knuckles, her hand loosening under his command. A spark of lust gleamed in her eyes, and a slow-forming smile spread across his face. Good. Very, very good.

  “Is there anything you’d like to ask me?” She disengaged her hand from his and, in a nervous gesture, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

  “You’re doing this of your own free will? No abusive father or prick of a boyfriend who’ll steal your money?” Hell, her reasons shouldn’t matter. But he wouldn’t forgive himself if she sold her body to give the money to a glorified pimp. He’d heard only good things from House of Alexa, but he had to be sure.

  She nodded. “My father is dead, and I have no boyfriend.”

  Good. He parked his hand on his belt, his finger gliding over the buckle. “Show me your feet.”

  She frowned. “My feet?”

  “Yeah.”

  She removed one high heel, then the other, and held both sides of her dress, leaving her feet on full display. He bent to see them. When he’d first seen her on stage, besides the obvious rush of adrenaline, he’d imagined what she looked like without shoes.

  Did she have red toes to match her mouth? Or unpolished ones as a sign of modesty?

  From the delicate arches of her ankles to the smooth area above her dusty pink colored toes, her feet were graceful. An image of her legs wrapped around his torso and her feet over his shoulders flooded his mind.

  His rod hardened, and a generous amount of blood raced down his cock. Fuck. He peered up at her and found her gaze intently fixed on his hard-on. He stretched to his full height. “Nice,” he said before clearing his throat.

  A quick knock on the door made him turn around and, thankfully, relax. Before he could open the door, Madame Alexa strolled in, followed by Jackie, her assistant he’d met earlier.

  “Well? How are we getting along?”

  “Great,” Amaya said.

  Madame Alexa sized up Amaya, perhaps trying to read her reply and make sure she’d meant it. She cared about what she did, about her…girls? Women? “Good. Mr. Rhodes, do you have any questions? Are you ready to sign your final contract?”

  He sucked in a breath, then exhaled. “I have a request. A question that’ll decide if this is a good match or not,” he said in a steady but commanding voice, the same tone he used in the boardroom. Despite his strong need to have this woman in his bed, he needed some flexibility. After all, his work and life awaited him in Greece.

  Madame Alexa folded her arms. “Go ahead.”

  “Does Amaya have a passport?”

  Amaya stepped forward. “Yes.”

  He stared at Madame Alexa square in the eye. Determination bolted through him. “Good. She’s coming with me to Greece.”

  Chapter Two

  “Traveling outside the country is forbidden. I’ve had winners fly to Hawaii or Los Angeles with the girls, but Greece is too far away,” Madame Alexa said, her voice firm.

  Jackie nodded behind her, holding her iPad, her gaze darting between her boss and the imposing man before them.

  Amaya drew in a breath, the heady sensation from the time she’d seen him so close still lingering. She’d never been petite, but this man made her feel delicate and breakable.

  Still, as good-looking as he was…she couldn’t just up and go. What about her brother? Sure, she’d entrusted her good friend Samantha to be Diego’s caretaker and take him to his therapy center for the past couple weeks while she worked double shifts—another reason why she’d become flat broke. As nice and trustworthy as Samantha was, she needed money to pay her bills. Would Samantha agree to watch him for a whole month? If I pay her enough?

  “I guarantee I’ll do her no harm. Let me know what you need to allow it, and I’ll provide it,” he said.

  Tension crackled in the air, and Amaya could hear her own breathing. Damn it. This had to work—if it didn’t, if she said no, she wouldn’t be put on auction again. That was one of the rules—no repeat auctions, even if the woman was still a virgin. Shiny and new won the race.

  Madame Alexa lifted an eyebrow. “A reason. Why take her thousands of miles away when you can do the same thing stateside?”

  Amaya tilted her head forward, adamant on not missing one word of explanation. Por favor, Dios. Let this all make sense. Her palms got clammy, and she folded and unfolded her arms, unsure about what to do.

  “I’m a Greek citizen with important business in Athens. I can’t stay away from the company for a month. If I do, it’ll be ruined by the time I get back.”

  “Why?”

  His jaw clenched. The muscles of his back must have stiffened, for she noticed the creases of his jacket snugging him tighter. “I suspect my uncle is embezzling money and plans on running the business into the ground. I need to see that it won’t happen.”

  Alexa glanced at Amaya. “What are your thoughts, my dear? Ultimately, it’s the woman’s choice.”

  Amaya swallowed the razors in her throat. It would have been her choice, yes, if she had one. Damn it, she had barely finished high school. In what alternative universe would she ever touch two million dollars? “I need a few days to sort things out.”

  “Two.” He tossed her a glance.

  Two days. She reached for her neck, hoping to find the necklace with a heart pendant her mother had given her when she’d turned fifteen. When she brushed her collarbone, she didn’t find anything more than her cold flesh. Of course. It dawned on her, and she dropped her hand to her waist. She’d removed the piece of jewelry that morning, to keep that part of her completely separate from the auction.

  Theo turned to Madame Alexa. “I’ll also sweeten the deal. How much do you get for commission?”

  “Thirty percent.”

  “I’ll add that amount to my payment so she gets to keep the two million clean.”

  “A generous man.” Madame Alexa t
ossed her hair to the side. “My favorite kind.”

  So now she’d get the full two million. A thrill of surprise moved within her. She had two days to get things sorted out to be gone for one month. But two million? She could give her sweet brother the life he deserved, honoring her promise to her parents to take care of him. Hell, she’d even have enough to open her own restaurant. Casa de Amaya. A gorgeous space with outdoor seating and authentic Mexican food. After years of living for others, she’d have a chance to do something for herself.

  A strand of determination spiraled through her, and she squared her shoulders, wishing she’d put the high heels back on. “I’ll do it.”

  Amaya brought her reusable grocery bags into her apartment. Samantha had agreed to move into her place to watch Diego for the month, after the generous amount Amaya had offered. According to House of Alexa rules, 50 percent of the amount had been deposited into her checking account.

  She’d spent the whole afternoon running errands, buying food, and leaving messages at the special-needs group home where she expected to secure a place for her brother.

  Huffing, she placed the bags on the kitchen counter and started retrieving the items from them. The doorbell rang, and she sauntered to the door. Were her brother and his occupational therapist already returning from their stroll to the park? She opened the door to find a white box on the floor.

  She picked it up and brought it inside.

  Curious, she put it on the counter, pushing aside her grocery bags, and then opened it. She pulled out the red tissue paper, and a thrill spiked her pulse. This wasn’t anything she’d ordered from Amazon. No.

  She glanced at the pair of shiny black high heels. She glided her fingers down the red soles and caught a whiff of that new shoe smell she hadn’t experienced in a while. She sighed. A long while.

  Her nipples puckered, and she immediately took off her shoes and slipped on the heels. Whoa—not only were they higher than what she was used to, they made her walk straighter, with more confidence.

  She walked to the box again and pulled out a note written with bold, strong strokes.

  Wear these tomorrow.

  T.

  Tomorrow.

  Her throat clogged, and a mix of apprehension and arousal zapped down her core. The previous day, they’d signed the contract and organized everything. Today, she felt free after telling Joe at Joe’s Cafe she needed a leave of absence. She’d quit her job after everything was said and done—couldn’t be too careful. What if something went wrong?

  A new life was on the horizon, though. Tomorrow, she’d pay the price—he’d send a car for her and meet her at a private airfield. Then they’d fly to Greece together.

  Shoes. The man certainly enjoyed them—hadn’t he asked to see her feet? Maybe that replaced checking a horse’s teeth in modern-day sex clients’ etiquette. She continued putting the food away, her fingers trembling slightly. She’d kept a level head during the day, too busy to worry about the repercussions of her sin. Yes, it was a sin, nonetheless—what would her parents say?

  She’d sold her virginity. Her parents had wedded as virgins in a small ceremony in Mexico before they fled to the States as illegal immigrants to start a new life. A life with opportunities different from the dirt-poor town where they’d grown up.

  She opened the refrigerator, and when she turned to the counter to grab the cheese, she lost her balance and stumbled. Gasping, she grabbed the edge of the laminate counter, avoiding a fall. Heart racing, she wiped the sweat from her forehead.

  Tomorrow she’d give Theo a part of her she’d never get back.

  …

  “She’s boarding soon, sir,” Jessica, the flight attendant, informed Theo. “More champagne?” Jessica lifted the bottle of Veuve Clicquot, flashing him a seductive smile that carried a simple message. If he wanted more than bubbly, she’d be up for it.

  “Efxaristo,” he said, thanking her, then drank the alcohol at once. Damn it, he should have ordered something stronger, but he’d preferred to keep his head clear. After all, he had to deal with his hormones already; every single one from his teenage years had returned with a vengeance.

  The previous day, he’d worked from the hotel and masturbated twice. Today, once. The idea of Amaya in his bed for a month brought a state of unrest to his body, unsettling each one of his nerves.

  An idea he shouldn’t be too excited about, the pragmatic part of him pleaded. Sure, he’d enjoy Amaya, but this was about means to an end. For generations, his family had always followed their duty. Hell, his own father had married his mother because that had been expected of him. Rumor had it, he’d loved some other girl before his mother, a girl their family would never approve of.

  Theo sat the glass of champagne on the table and opened his sleek laptop. Only took him two minutes to realize he couldn’t concentrate.

  “Welcome aboard, Ms. Lopez. Please come in,” Jessica said, greeting the newcomer.

  Theo adjusted himself on the seat and glanced at his laptop, as if he’d been mindlessly working and not musing over his new obsession. His mother would call this conundrum karma. Theo’d always prided himself on not being a slave of his dick—not that he’d ever been a saint, but shit, he’d tried to contain his urges. Growing up, he’d learned quickly he could give women a lot of pleasure, or a lot of pain. He’d always chosen the first, though sometimes the latter was inevitable.

  “Hi,” she said, waving her hand at him like they were several feet from each other and not inches. “Where should I sit?”

  “Anywhere you want.”

  She glanced at the seat next to him for a second, then plopped on the seat in front of him, with the safety of the dark oak table bolted to the carpeted floor between them.

  Desire stirred up his groin, and his pants got instantly tighter. With her hair in a ponytail and face free of makeup, she looked impossibly young. A pang of guilt stabbed at him. Young, innocent, and hungry for money—a dangerous combination.

  “This is…amazing.” She skimmed the gold accents of his aircraft, carefully blending with the polished wood and oversize chairs. When her eyes returned to his, he caught a touch of wonder in the depths of her brown eyes, like she wanted to bask in each single detail.

  Her naiveté brought a smile to his lips. Talia, his future bride, was used to wealth and in the events they’d attended together, always made sure she had the best seat in the house. She knew what to ask for and was no damsel in distress—a virgin, yes, due to a practical point of view, but also a go-getter. She needed this marriage as much as he did, for it meant she’d be the one saving her company and family. She, the only child who happened to be female, much to her conservative father’s disappointment.

  Old money and old rules.

  The millions he’d spent on Amaya could very well be his last if he didn’t marry Talia and gain control of Rhodes Enterprises. The more stocks, the more control so he could be in charge—and boot his uncle Horace from the CFO position. Possibly get him arrested, like he deserved.

  “Never flown on a private jet, I assume.”

  A wave of red spread across her cheeks. “Never flown anywhere.”

  “You have a passport.”

  “Yes, to visit family members in Mexico. By car.”

  Jessica returned, grabbing his glass and warning them about takeoff.

  The engine purred, and the pilot’s voice sounded in the speakerphone, talking about the weather.

  He slid his laptop in the side pocket and glanced at Amaya. She clenched the armrest a little too tight, enough to form a frown on her pretty face. He wished she’d been on time, so she’d had a stiff drink before flying. How could he have known she was also a virgin to the skies?

  The idea brought a dirty image to his mind. He’d be popping a lot of cherries and couldn’t wait to get started. “Don’t be nervous.”

  She rubbed her hands together. “I’m not.”

  He lifted an eyebrow.

  She sighed, her shoulders sagging
. “I’m a bad liar.”

  “Just stay away from poker games and politics, and you’ll be fine.”

  She smiled, showing her straight white teeth. Dimples dented both sides of her cheeks, and he fought the urge to kiss them. His heart flipped in his chest as if he’d received great news. Time. Give her time.

  Give yourself time. That’s what he’d promised himself after things ended so abruptly with Eleni. Because of the agreement to marry Talia, he’d always steered away from women who challenged him emotionally. Women who defied his carefully crafted rationale and sense of duty. Women like…

  Amaya gazed at him, the complex brown irises drawing him in. The tips of his fingers tingled, and an ache to open the door of a part of himself he’d always kept shut stabbed at him. What the hell?

  He’d screw her all right, but he couldn’t jump her bones and hurt her like he’d done Eleni. Especially since he had Amaya for a month—enough time to teach himself how to properly corrupt a virgin—he didn’t want to rush things.

  Easier said than done. He unbuckled his seat and rushed to her side, occupying the seat next to hers. Giving her what he hoped was a reassuring smile, he grabbed her hand in his, threading their fingers.

  The innocent touch stoked a fire within him, quickly raising his internal temperature. She moaned, and he gave her a little squeeze, and she responded with a little tug of her own, causing lust to thunder in his blood.

  With his free hand, he loosened his collar, wishing he could take her right there and then. Nonsense. He couldn’t hurt her without any planning. Damn it, her palm slicked against his, and he felt fresh cold sweat. Was she scared? Did he…frighten her?

  “Why are you sweating?” he asked, hoping it was just the fear of flying. Either way, he needed to know.

  His heart missed a beat or two.

  She glanced away for a moment, and he was about to loosen his hold on her hand and go back to his seat when she turned her face back to him. “I…”

  “Tell me, Amaya. You can tell me anything,” he said in a low voice. Anything? Why did he promise her that level of intimacy? This was sex, nothing more.