Without hesitation, I hit send and sunk back into the couch.
"I've officially lost my fucking mind."
Chapter Two
Kian
"You sound like a fucking creeper," I groaned into the phone.
"Kian. Dude. Seriously?" Geoff Carlton, my best friend, chuckled. "So, you'll hire an escort for an event and won't fuck her?"
"That's prostitution. Dumbass."
"You're paying upfront for her time, not her body," he replied without missing a beat. Apparently, he had prepared his argument ahead of pleading his case to me.
"You're going to end up with some fucking S.T.D," I laughed.
"Fuck that. I'm clean," he growled. "Besides, I'm going to do the auction thing. That's why I called you. I signed you up."
"What fucking auction? And what the hell do you mean you signed me up," I gritted through clenched teeth with my free hand balled into a fist.
"You're looking for a wife so you can have an heir. This auction is to bid on the hottest virgins," he boasted. "They're going to be so fucking hot and young."
"YOUNG!" The word erupted from my mouth and echoed off the walls in my office. Pretty sure all of my employees on the other side of the door were now staring at the door and wondering what the hell was going on.
"Legal. Jesus. I do have some morals," Geoff said in a disgusted tone.
"Barely," I muttered.
"Fuck you," he chuckled. "Seriously though. Hot virgins, who have been screened and had their background checks ran. It's perfect."
"Are they from other countries or something?"
"Kian, why are you such a stick in the mud?" he groaned. "These are American women, who are looking for a better life. You and me, my friend, can give that to them. And, in return, you get an heir and I get a banging trophy wife."
"Why are we friends again?" I asked, pinching the bridge of my nose. My head was starting to throb at the thought of me being titledsleazy rich guy, who buys a wife.
"I'm going to text you a number. It's Madame Lilith. She's the boss-lady. She's already expecting your call. So just give her your name."
"I don't need some pimp to help me find a wife."
"Madame," he corrected me, making me groan and roll my eyes.
"I don't need help finding a wife and I definitely don't need to buy one."
"Cut the shit, Kian," Geoff said firmly. "Stop thinking about social norms. Is this shit weird? A bit unorthodox? Taboo? Fuck yes. But who cares? They have done all the leg work. You'll know the woman's likes, dislikes, background, and everything else you'd spend months trying to learn. All you have to do is show up, and see which woman's information and looks call out to you. It's that simple. If none do, then you go home losing nothing."
He made it seem like it was as simple as going to a store and buying a loaf of bread. Simply stroll in, browse, select, and go home with said bread. Did I really want to entertain this idea? I was a rich, good-looking guy, went to an ivy league school, and didn't have a want in the world… except for a wife and heir.
Fuck. Geoff was right. Not that I'd tell his ass that. It was the taboo part of it all that had me sayingno, but deep down inside me, the thought aroused me.
What the fuck is wrong with me?
"You're thinking too much." Geoff's words interrupted my thoughts. I shook my head and sighed.
"I don't need help finding–"
"You seriously don't get hard thinking about some beautiful woman willing to give her innocence to you?" he asked. "I'm all for some sexy, virgin giving it up to me. Just knowing I'm the only one to fuck her… fuck yes!"
