Blake, Abby - Mikayla's Men [A Bride for Eight Brothers, Book 1] (Siren Publishing LoveXtreme Forever)

A Bride for Eight Brothers, Book 1

ABBY BLAKE

Copyright © 2011

Chapter One

“Yes. I understand what you want from me.” Mikayla Noone tried to still her shaking hands and somehow convince herself that she was doing the right thing. The only thing she could, if the truth be told.

“Do you have any experience?”

“Not really.”

The little man’s bored expression morphed into one of great interest at her nervous words. He looked her over again, the type of lecherous once-over that women had been enduring for generations. No matter how many times a man looked at her like that, it always made her skin crawl.

On this planet, they all looked at her like that.

“Define ‘not really,’” he said with a hopeful lilt to his voice. “Virgin?”

She shook her head, and the little man’s interest seemed to wane. His eyes took on that bored look again, and his voice returned to its arrogant tone once more.

“Great.” The way he said the word made it clear he meant exactly the opposite. “What did ya say ya name was?”

“Mikayla,” she managed to force through her tightening throat. She glanced around the tiny room as several other women in various stages of undress milled about, getting ready for the big performance.

“Okay, Mikayla.” He said the word like it was an insult. “Prove yourself tonight, and I’ll give you a long-term contract. Fuck up, and I’ll sell you for whatever price I can get.”

Mikayla tried to hold back the tears that threatened to fall. She wouldn’t even be on this fucked-up planet if she hadn’t trusted the wrong man. The smooth son of a bitch had swept her off her feet with promises of love and happily-ever-after, but once they were outside the regions of Earth-controlled space, he had simply dumped her on the nearest planet.

So now she found herself trying desperately to earn enough credits to get home. The mining planet was a mostly human colony, but the males outnumbered the females by about three hundred to one. With so many single men on the planet, it was no great leap to know what this little man expected. Ironically, the few women she’d had a chance to talk with had told her this guy looked after his girls well.

She rubbed the spot on her upper arm that still tingled. If she’d known that the inoculation-contraception injection he’d given her had a twenty-five percent mortality rate, she might’ve reconsidered, but she hadn’t eaten in three days, and her choices were becoming more and more desperate. Luckily for her, she didn’t seem to be the one in four to die from her pimp’s idea of preventive medicine.

“Sherry,” he called over his shoulder, “get this one an outfit. She’ll be dancing the pole tonight.”

Sherry smiled at her and then quickly bought over a small scrap of material that looked like nothing more than a bunch of string—a very small bunch of string. Her pimp gave her one last assessing look.

“Don’t fuck up,” was all he said as he turned away.

Sherry touched her arm, and Mikayla almost leaped across the room. The woman looked at her with concern in her eyes, and Mikayla wanted to start crying all over again simply because it was the first kind look she’d gotten since being dumped on this godforsaken planet.

“Sugar,” Sherry said as she slowly looked Mikayla up and down, “we’ve all been where you are now. You need to relax or you really are going to fuck this up.” Mikayla nodded self-consciously. “When was the last time you ate?”

Embarrassment heated her cheeks, and Sherry seemed to read the answer in her face.

“That long, huh? Beth, can you get…What’s ya name, honey?

“Mikayla,” she managed to whisper.

“Get Mikayla a bowl of food, please. We can’t have her falling off the stage from exhaustion.”

Mikayla fidgeted, unable to stand still. “Uhm…thank you,” she managed to mumble, completely ashamed by her predicament.

“No problem, sugar,” Sherry said as she wiped a tear off Mikayla’s cheek. “Us girls have gotta stick together. Just remember, the better you dance, the more clients you attract and the faster you earn enough money to get home.”

Mikayla hadn’t explained her predicament to anyone, but the look on Sherry’s face suggested that it was a common story among these parts. With the uneven mix of sexes, there was only one form of employment for a woman, and it was the one thing Mikayla had never planned on.

And according to the guy who’d dumped her here, the thing she was really lousy at.

* * * *

Matt Davidson pushed through the crowd to take a seat near the bar. He didn’t come here often, but when he did, he tried not to overthink it. He was a healthy human male with a healthy, normal sex drive, and on any other planet, he would never have considered paying a woman to have sex with him. But here on this icy rock, there really wasn’t an alternative. Jacking off helped, of course, but eventually he needed a real woman.

He spotted Sherry as several of the women started dancing sensuously to the slow, pulsing tones of a tune that had become familiar to him over the last several months. As always, Sherry’s lithe body and sexy movements had him—and every other man in the place—paying close attention.

But tonight, there was a woman dancing beside her who looked new. Her movements were wooden, self-conscious, and Matt felt a pang of sympathy for her. Most of the women here weren’t on this planet by choice, and he’d seen too many of them pass through this place. That’s why he always hired Sherry. She was an experienced whore who was able to pleasure them both without making him feel like he was taking advantage of a woman who had no other choice.

But no matter how many times Matt convinced himself not to, he found his gaze sliding back to the awkward moves of the dancer beside Sherry. The new woman was simply beautiful. Her sad blue eyes belied the falseness of her smile, and she flinched and shook her head whenever a potential customer spoke to her.

Already, several of the working girls had left the stage and others had come on to replace them, but Sherry and the new girl danced on. Sherry seemed to be whispering urgently to the new woman, but Matt couldn’t make out any of the words. Although he knew Sherry well enough to know something was bothering her.

The source of her agitation quickly became obvious when the owner of the club grabbed the new girl’s hand, pulled her off the stage, and pushed her into the arms of a man Matt knew. The man smiled harder when the woman started to struggle. He forced both of her wrists behind her and then hoisted her over his shoulder like a sack of grain. Even over the loud thump of the music, Matt could hear the man’s laughter.

Before he really understood what he planned, Matt was on his feet and heading toward the trio. The woman wriggled and kicked in terror, and it seemed to make both men laugh harder.

“Put her down, Evans,” he said to the man who’d once been a friend. Matt then turned to the owner of the club. “I’ll buy this one for the year. How much do you want for her?”