“I’m fine with it.” Ruby shrugged and curled her pretty lips in an unladylike display.
I winced, wishing for her to be more poised and elegant like her mentor. Though these things could most certainly be taught. And Ms. Dawson was very young and likely hadn’t received etiquette training. Something I’d resolve immediately upon taking her home.
“I’ll have you both sign this contract under the ‘Bidder’ section. My lawyers will add an amendment detailing what was agreed upon this night. Congratulations, Nile and Noah Pennington. I wish you both luck in winning the heart of my Ruby. I’ll leave it to the three of you to work out the specifics.” She turned to Ruby and cupped both of her cheeks. “You will be given a cell phone upon exiting. My number is programmed. I wish for you to check in with me daily on your activities and experiences. If you feel unsafe at any time, you reach out to me. If you want to talk to a woman who knows what you’re going through, I am available day or night. Understood, my dear?”
She nodded. “Thank you. Thank you for everything,” she whispered.
It became apparent to me in that moment that I had no idea why Ruby Dawson would enter herself into an arranged marriage. Knowing the person’s motives was everything in a successful business arrangement. But I would find out.
I walked over to the table and signed my name, then handed the pen to Noah. He repeated the process.
“May the best man win.” I lifted my chin with utter confidence, feeling the chase of a new conquest burning at my fingertips.
“Nah.” Noah clapped me on the back lovingly, smiling like a loon. “You’ll be the best man standing by my side when I marry Ruby.” He winked.
I shook my head, and both of us turned to our woman.
“So, what happens next?” She stood straight as a pencil looking every bit the American girl. A Hollywood starlet incarnate.
“We take you home to London.”
Episode 15
Dakota’s Contract
SUTTON
Never in a million years did I think I’d see Dakota McAllister standing on stage dolled up in a sexy getup that made my dick take notice. And to see her baby sister up there as well… Whoo, boy. That’s what we country folk called a twofer. Only I wasn’t here to bid on curvy, sweet Savannah. Nah, that would have been too easy. Besides, in my book, a twenty-year-old was barely kicking the door of being an adult. Now, Dakota was all woman. Her legs for days, four-pack abs, strong arms, and cut thighs that could ride a horse for hours on end were more my speed. I groaned at the carnal thought of those thighs riding my waist as she bucked on top of my cock, screamin’ out my name in nothing but orgasmic pleasure. It was my top fantasy, and I was about to make it come to life.
The Goodalls and the McAllisters were no strangers to one another. We grew up together. Neighboring farms with a solid wooden fence that ran the entire length of both our properties. Though it wasn’t only a fence that ran through our connection. It was generations of betrayal, heartache, and grief. And look at the McAllisters now. Brought low enough by their piece-of-shit daddy that the two most sought-after sisters in Sandee, Montana, were selling themselves to the highest bidder.
When I got word from a friend that Madam Alana had an interesting set of women up for The Marriage Auction, not exactly something a lot of people knew about, I made sure to submit my information so I could be vetted, and I hightailed it to the nearest airport.
I’d never been to Vegas, but when I heard there were two redheaded cowgirls going up for auction and one of ’em was named Dakota, it took no time at all to learn it was Dakota and Savannah McAllister. The story became more real when I found out that young Savannah had broken up with her longtime high school sweetheart and ranch hand Jarod not long ago. Those two were so in love, everyone in town fully expected her to come back from college and marry that boy right away, pop out a couple babies, and live the farm life like every generation prior. And to hear Ms. Dakota was up for purchase… Well, I couldn’t back away from that dangling carrot.
Since the day I laid eyes on her up on top of a horse at fourteen years old, me fifteen at the time, I’d known she was the one for me. She maneuvered that horse as though she was born on one. Something I too had a knack with. When you’re bred on a farm, you learn what it takes to work the land from a very young age. And as I watched her run the line of the fence, her strawberry-blonde hair flying in the breeze under her Stetson, her tight little ass in the sweetest pair of Wranglers, her thighs hugging that saddle… I knew from then on she was the real deal. The exact type of girl I wanted to grow old with. Work the family farm, have babies, the whole nine. I was a fifteen-year-old boy who fell in love at first sight. My future had been sittin’ pretty up on top of a stallion.