Buy Me (Mistress Auctions #1)(34)

I look over at her and Justin playing in the pool with the twins. Our two little boys look exactly like their mother, but God help us, do they act like Justin and me. We are in for it in a few years. Stella is so pregnant, and I worry about her swimming, but she keeps saying that the water eases the pressure on her back. Her little body works hard to give us babies, so we try to make her as comfortable as possible.

We still own the casino, but work from home a lot. Thankfully, we only have to go in one or two days a week for some basic housekeeping. Otherwise we are here with our family.

After Stella agreed to be ours, we got married about a minute later. She was, in fact, pregnant before the thirty days were up, and Justin and I were all too pleased about it. I knew she was our lucky charm from the first moment I laid eyes on her.

We put her dad Frank in a rehab program while we had Lucky under contract, and after he got out things were okay for a little while. She ended up giving the farm to Tim, the foreman, and gave him enough money so he never had to worry about lean years again. She said she had plenty of money, and being married to two rich casino owners had its perks. I laughed, but hey, I’d keep her any way I could.

I think once Frank realized she’d sold the farm, he got depressed thinking about how he’d lost everything, and went back to drinking again. It took Stella a long time to see it, but in the end she realized he was too selfish to do anything for anyone but himself. We see him on occasion, but mostly he stays out of the picture.

It may be cold, but I always thought if he was willing to put his daughter's life on the line for an addiction, he wasn’t worth having around anyway. I thought maybe when we had grandkids it would change his mind, but sadly that didn’t do it either. Justin reaches out to him a lot, so maybe one day he’ll come around. As I look at Lucky and our babies, I really hope he does. He’s missing out on a f*cking great life.

Don is beyond ecstatic we finally gave him the grandkids he’s been begging for, and he’s on his way over to grill out with us today. He’s probably got presents for them too, even though we keep telling him to stop buying them stuff. He says, “What’s the use of all this money if I can’t waste it on my babies?” The old man really is turning into a big marshmallow in his old age.

Stella, Justin and I are living the perfect life surrounded by people we love. I couldn’t have written a better story if I tried. Well, maybe I would have left out that Natasha bullshit, but that’s life, right? There’s always a little something you’ve got to get through when it turns out this good.

I smile to myself, thinking about Mandy and the mess we got her in back then.

“What’s so funny?” Stella asks, swimming over to the edge where I’m sitting.

“Nothing, baby. Just thinking about Mandy.”

She rolls her eyes and then laughs. “You two are the worst.”

I ignore her statement, get in the pool with her and swim us over to Justin and the boys. I smile and kiss her while rubbing her belly and thinking about how I’d have done the same thing to keep her, and still would.

Love is crazy, and so are the two of us when it comes to Stella.





THE END





BECS





Rage bubbles inside me as I look at the imposing double doors of his office. They reach all the way to the high ceiling, and look like you’d have to use all your weight to push them open. On the other side is an arrogant *. If you push the doors open he is probably sitting behind a giant desk, or maybe on a throne like a king. I guess he’s king of this building. Mr. Vanilla, as I like to call him just to piss him off, owns the place. I work in the coffee shop downstairs in the building’s lobby. Well, I did until about fifteen minutes ago. I know he’s the reason for my quick termination today, and I’m here to give him a piece of my mind.

No way am I going back to the shelter. The coffee shop job barely afforded me enough money for the pay-by-the-week motel my older brother and I are staying at. We've been there for the past few months, but anything beat staying at the shelter. One week without a job, and it will force us back there. That’s not something I can handle.

“Is that * boss of yours in there?” I snap at the woman sitting at the desk in front of the double doors.

Jerking her head up, she looks at me in shock, but her face quickly turns to disgust. Of course he has a perfect-looking assistant sitting outside his office. Sun-streaked blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun, crystal-blue eyes with thin black-framed glasses, and a low-cut top. Very low cut. She looks like she could do the whole sexy librarian turned seductress thing at any moment. Maybe that’s what she does.

I can tell from the scrunch of her nose she finds me repulsive. I’m her polar opposite in every way. We might both have blonde hair but it clearly ends there. My blonde is a brighter shade than hers, but mine is also streaked with pink and purple. The dye makes my eyes appear more purple than they really are. I can see her long legs under the desk, and shoes that probably cost what I make in three months. If she stands up, I’m sure she’ll tower over my five three height. My black military-style lace-up boots give me no extra help in that department. She’s thin and I can tell she puts time into maintaining herself. Total opposites.

“I’m going to have to ask you to leave,” she squeaks at me in a voice that sounds like nails on a chalkboard. She reaches for her desk phone, I’m sure to call security, because I am after all half naked. I’m dressed only in a bra, black pants and my boots. No way was I letting that dipshit downstairs take fifty dollars out of my last check for my uniform, and I have no plans of ever seeing his face again. He had the balls, after firing me, to suggest I drop to my knees and he’d pay for other services if I needed the money so bad. When I started to unbutton my top the little f*cker thought he was getting what he wanted. All he got was my shirt and apron thrown at him. Well, and a black eye. I can still feel the sting on my knuckles from the punch. Oh, yeah, his eye is going to be a nice black and purple come morning. Growing up in foster care, I learned how to throw a mean punch.