It’s fucking sick, the way he is using his money to buy what he wants, and when he wants it.
When Luther opens the door he is wearing a silk bathrobe.
It’s nasty, to be perfectly honest, and if we weren’t co-owners of several substantial pieces of Alaskan wilderness, I’d never come here. But I need to make sure he doesn’t do anything rash with his share of my mother’s fortune.
He’s creepy as fuck and I’m just glad my mom isn’t alive to watch him picking up twenty-one-year-old women at bars. He’s nearly sixty for God’s sake, he should be sleeping with women his own age, at the very least.
Knocking on the door, Luther grins, having expected me. “Come in, Ryder,” he says then adds, “What did you think of that pretty piece of meat?”
“Come on, Luther. You know what I think of that.”
He laughs. “Damn, Ryder. You’re wound so damn tight, just like your mother was.”
I clench my jaw, unable to speak. This man knows how to get under my skin in two seconds flat, and tonight is no exception.
“Oh, calm down, calm down,” he says patronizing me and I’m about to leave right then and there but showing up here once a month and having a drink with him seems to keep him on my good side—and that’s important considering we aren’t just talking thousands of dollars. We’re talking hundreds of millions.
My mother’s millions.
I’m so fucking glad she can’t see what her second husband has become.
And that’s me being nice.
“Just come in,” he says, waving me inside. “I just opened a vintage Pinot Noir.”
I reluctantly follow him into his den where a television blares. “Surprised you’re not out on the town tonight, looking for some ripe, young thing,” he tells me, handing me the wine.
I set the wine down and walk over to his liquor cabinet. Choosing an oak barrel, twenty-year-old whiskey, I pour myself a drink, ignoring Luther’s dislike for helping myself.
Like that motherfucker should talk. He’s helped himself to everything my mother never intended for him to have.
I take a seat before answering. “Not really my scene, never has been,” I say before taking a sip of the whiskey.
A smirk covers Luther’s self-satisfied face. “You never have been comfortable with the finer things in life, have you?”
“Let’s not do this.”
Luther shrugs, his attention on the television. The gorgeous dark haired woman from the interview I saw earlier today is on the screen. This time she’s in a flannel shirt mostly unbuttoned, her beautiful tits on display. She’s wearing tiny cut-off shorts revealing her tanned and toned legs, and her work boots are a nod to the great outdoors.
The Brooks Range is behind her and Luther turns up the volume as the Entertainment News anchor explains who this woman is. Emblazoned on the screen are the words: HEIRESS AUCTIONS HER VIRGINITY.
“Now that is a tempting proposition.” Luther raises his eyebrows, watching the television with interest.
I run my hand over my beard, tensing as I listen to the replay of the story. And what really makes my blood boil is the fact the Luther has leaned in closer to the television screen and is practically salivating at the sight of her.
The thought that this woman, so fucking beautiful and pure, is selling her body, and that a man like Luther could buy her, makes me sick. No man should taste her for a dollar amount. One look at her and I know she’s priceless.
“The auction is set for next Sunday at the Anchorage convention center. The auction has many conservatives in the state in an uproar, but HAHA has released this video about her controversial decision.”
The show splices to a clip of Justine on the mountain, her long hair whipping in the wind. With heartfelt inflection, she says, “Money is easy for someone in my position to give, but this is my choice, my right.”
Luther cackles beside me. “That woman is a fine piece of ass.”
“Shut up, Luther. Don’t talk about her like that. Did you know about HAHA’s part in this?”
He just laughs. “No, I don’t follow that sort of thing. Besides, why the frown? It’s for a good cause right?”
I narrow my eyes, disgusted with this man.
“Oh, I see. You’re jealous. Do you want her virgin pussy? God knows you have enough money to pay for her.”
“I will not pay for sex.”
I may not know Justine, but I know enough. Her intentions may be good, but her plan is flawed.
“Good,” Luther grins and then lifts his wine glass to his lips. “Then I won’t have to outbid you when I pay to take her innocence.”Chapter TwoJustineAt twenty-four years old, I’m more than ready to finally lose my virginity.
And so what if I’m selling it? It’s mine to sell—at least in the state of Alaska.
Everyone’s asking me why I waited so long... why now... but the answer isn’t very complicated. I spent my life focused on school and college and now I’m done with all of that.