MVP (VIP Book 3) (38 page)

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Authors: M Robinson

BOOK: MVP (VIP Book 3)
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It made no sense.

“It’s not nice to spy on someone without their permission, Ysa.”

I immediately looked up and our eyes locked.

“I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced,” he added, strolling over to me with a powerful presence that I felt with each step he took. He sat in one of the leather chairs in front of the desk. “My name’s Mika.”

 

“You don’t need to introduce yourself; I know exactly who you are,” he remarked with a certain tone.

“Why do you call me Ysa?” I hastily responded.

He grinned and placed his ankle on his knee, sitting back with his arms around the back of the chair. It was the first time I had ever been around a man who screamed sex. It exuded off of him; he had this cocky demeanor without even having to try.

“Isn’t that your name?”

“My name is Ysabelle, no one calls me Ysa.”

He arched an eyebrow. “What about Sebastian? Does he not count?”

I shook my head and leaned forward. “Who are you?”

“Oh…we’re going to start with my introduction. Not exactly how I imagined this going down, but I’m all for spontaneity; life’s too short to sweat the small stuff.” He nodded toward the folder. “Didn’t find out enough information from my file? I’m surprised Angel even has one for me. I’ve never been much of a client…I hate following the herd, you know? I like to think of myself as an exclusive member to Lilith, more than anything.”

“Madam?”

“Oh, yes,” he whispered with wide eyes. “Madam.”

“Who are you to her?”

He cocked his head. “I don’t like labeling our relationship, makes things complicated. Angel isn’t too fond of commitment and up until a few months ago, I wasn’t either.”

“Your file says you’re married.”

He smiled. “I was. Divorced now. How sad, she hasn’t updated my file.” He placed his hand on his heart. “I’m hurt. Love is a brutal cunt, isn’t she?”

I shook my head and sat up, placing his file back in the cabinet. I rounded the desk and walked to the door with his eyes on me the entire time.

“I’ll tell Madam you stopped by,” I announced, holding the door open.

“I don’t remember saying I was leaving.”

“Well, I have somewhere I have to be. I can’t babysit you.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You lie like her. Your eyes actually glaze over, exactly how hers do. It’s poetic. I don’t think I have to tell you that you’re fucking beautiful. You could make my cock hard without even trying.”

I watched as he slowly engulfed every inch of my body, making me feel naked and exposed. He bit his bottom lip when he sensed what I was feeling.

“You know, Ysa, I’ve known you since you were a baby VIP. I was actually at your first bidding party. I saw you walk in on
Madam’s
arm, and I wanted you instantly. You were sinful and you didn’t even know it. A man can appreciate a pretty pussy when he sees one. I found her and told her that I would offer double, even triple the amount of money your suitors had bid.”

I hadn’t moved from the place I was standing, I couldn’t. I was glued to the floor.

“She turned me down. Now…when has
Madam
ever turned down money?” he questioned, reading my mind. “I should have known then.”

I lowered my eyebrows. “Known what?”

“Who you are.”

“What the fuck are you talking about? Stop speaking in code.”

“Is that what I’m doing? Thanks for clarifying. Stop being a little bitch and I might tell you.”

“Tell me what?”

He stood and walked over to the dresser, grabbing the picture of Madam and me. She had her arms around me and my head was on her shoulder. He peeked up at me with a devilish stare.

“Haven’t you ever wondered how she found you? Hmmm…it’s all a big coincidence, at least from an outsider looking in.”

“Would that make you the outsider?”

His eyes rolled in my direction, but he didn’t move his head. “I’d like to think that would be you.”

“Me?”

He walked over to the couch and sat down, facing me with the picture still in his hands. He pointed to the couch in front of him for me to sit down; before I could overthink it, I sat. He leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. I crossed my legs and placed my hands in my lap. Something about the way he was looking at me made me uncomfortable; I had never been that way around any man. Mika was different, I just didn’t know in what sense.

“You’re nervous?” he stated as a question. “I can smell it on you, amongst other things.” He grinned.

“Do you always use sexual innuendos to get your way?”

“Is that what I’m doing?” he taunted.

“What do you want?”

He sighed. “I want a lot of things. Most of all…I want Angel.”

“What does that have to do with me?”

“Everything.”

“Care to elaborate?”

He squinted his eyes, taking me in or maybe considering what to say next.

“Want to play a game?” he questioned, catching me off guard.

“Is that what this is to you? A game?” I retorted.

“Oh…Ysa, you have no idea what kind of game you’re playing.”

“You’re right; I don’t play games. And if I did…I’d play to win.”

He smiled, showing off his bright white teeth. Even though he was an asshole, he was a sexy asshole and the fucker knew it.

“How old are you?” I asked.

“Interested?”

“Not as much as you are.”

He clapped his hands and laughed. “I fucking love you! No wonder you’re her favorite. I’ve talked and been around all the VIPs and not once have they challenged me, why you ask? Because they see me with
Madam
. Enough said. You”—he pointed at me—“don’t give a fuck, and damn how that makes my cock hard.”

“For someone who claims to want
Angel,
you sure have a shitty way of showing it.”

“See…that’s the difference between you and her. She knows I fuck. That’s it. It’s who I am. I’ve loved pussy since before I knew what it was. My mom used to say that it took her years to get me off her tit.”

“You’re vile.”

He chuckled. “Coming from the woman who used to share her pussy with the world and suck cock for a living…doesn’t mean much.”

I wanted to react to his vicious words, but I knew better. This was foreplay for him.

“I never sucked yours, now why is that? Come to think about it, not many of us have. You’ve been a member since the late 70s, which would make you somewhere in your late fifties? You’re old enough to be my father,” I vindictively countered.

He arched an eyebrow. “Except, I wouldn’t touch your crack whore of a mother with a ten-foot pole.”

“What?” I rashly replied, standing up. “How do you know that? Who the fuck are you?”

He leaned back and looked up at me. “A kitten one second and a lion the next. Must be in your blood.” He paused. “Haven’t you ever wondered about your life? Huh? You can’t tell me you haven’t. A rags to riches story; it’s like a fucking Lifetime movie. Except, you are not the lead role.
Madam
is.”

He stood, walking over to me and standing behind me, placing his face near my neck. “You smell good…” He slowly smelled from my shoulder to the side of my neck, beneath my ear, never touching me but humming the entire time. I didn’t back down; he was trying to intimidate me.

I wouldn’t let him.

“I bet you taste as sweet as you smell,” he murmured, breathing on my neck. “Hmmm…” he groaned. “If I reached into your panties, would you be wet?” His fingers skimmed the side of my arm, moving toward my core. “I’ll tell you one thing…” His fingers reached my hip and he stopped. “Your Madam would be drenched, and I’d take those soaking wet panties and shove them in her mouth. All the while…thinking about you.” He cupped my sex and I gasped. I turned around and pushed him as hard as I could. He stumbled on his footing, laughing the entire time.

“You son of a bitch,” I yelled.

He put his hands in the air, surrendering. “I just wanted to see what all the fuss is about,” he mocked.

I shook my head, backing away. “I’m out of here.” I reached the doorway.

“Don’t you want to know the truth? I know I would if I were you.”

I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around. He was leaning against the desk with one leg over the other and his arms were crossed on his chest. The picture frame was sitting beside him.

“You’re just playing with me. You don’t know a damn thing,” I argued.

“Then why did you stop? If you truly believed that, then you would have kept going.”

“Fuck you!”

“I already tried that. You didn’t like it very much.” He shrugged.

“Tell me! Stop fucking around and just tell me…please…” I begged, not caring anymore.

In an instant, his eyes changed and they were warm and welcoming. He was sad, for whom, I didn’t know. He grabbed the picture and threw it at me. I caught it in the air, holding it and shaking my head in confusion. He nodded toward it for me to look at it and I did.

“Take the picture out.”

I looked up at him. “What?”

“Take. The. Picture. Out.”

I sighed and did as I was told. I popped open the back and there was another picture behind it. I flipped it over, still not understanding. It was a picture of Madam, a young Madam with a woman who appeared to be her mother. They were in a similar embrace as we were in our picture.

“Look at her eyes. Not Madam’s eyes…”

“Oh my God.” Bright, shining green stared back at me.

“You’re right, Ysabelle, it was always a game, except you were never a player. You were a pawn.”

“No…you’re lying!” I threw the frame at his head and he ducked, the glass shattering behind him.

He stood up, straighter. “Your mother was a piece of shit, she still is. It didn’t take much for her to sell you. Who do you think was the bidder?” he sadistically asked.

My eyes widened and I felt nauseous, my hand immediately went to my mouth, and I tried to breath through it. 

“How do you think you ended up in Miami? Quite a coincidence, don’t you think?”

My face paled and all the blood from my body felt like it was draining. I could barely stand, I was shaking so badly. I looked all around me, trying to keep up with what he was saying and then our eyes locked.

“She was never your Madam,” he affirmed, moving his concentrated stare behind me and smiling.

“She is your grandmother.”

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