Gabrielle Jones is a chaste
young woman who will do anything for her husband. When the drunken fool gambles
away $10,000, the owner of the casino offers the couple a disgusting deal: For every man that Gabrielle can pleasure, he'll remove one thousand dollars of debt. Can Gabrielle satisfy ten men in one evening? It's so humiliating! But for the sake of her marriage, she'll do it!
~~~~~
Excerpt ~~~~~
Mr. Howle leaned back in his
luxurious leather chair. “You are a very beautiful woman, Mrs. Jones. I hope your husband tells you that every day.”
Gabrielle realized her hands
were shaking. “Mr. Howle…what do you want me to do?”
The old man licked his lips.
“I am an old man, it pains me to admit. Were I several decades younger I might have some other method of repayment in mind…but I have lived a long and lust-filled life, and merely enjoying your body is not quite enough to satisfy
my desire.”
Gabrielle rose to her feet.
“This is grotesque,” she said. “I understand how much money you have, Mr. Howle. I've heard your name before. Maybe you're used to people doing
whatever the heck you want, but I will not be treated like some common
whore!”
“There is nothing common
about you but your husband, Mrs. Jones.”
She summoned all the fire
within her and spat, right on his fancy marble desk. She slung her purse over
her shoulder and angrily clacked back down the red carpet in her heels.
“Come on, Walter. I've heard enough.”
But Walter didn't come. He was still hunched over in his chair, eyes fixed on the floor.
“Walter?”
Kennedy laid his thick-knuckled hand on her husband's shoulder. “I'm afraid Walter is out
of options, Mrs. Jones,” said Mr. Howle. “Either you and I come to an
agreement, or your husband pays for his sins in blood.”
Gabrielle dashed back to her
husband's chair. She flung herself between Walter and Kennedy and glared at the
dark, silent man. “No!” she said. “Please don't hurt him.”
“That's very
touching,” said Mr. Howle. He gestured for her to return to her seat.
Reluctantly, she obeyed. The knot in her stomach wound tighter with every
passing second.
“I won't lie to you,
Mrs. Jones. If you consider yourself a chaste woman, what I have in mind will
sound unpleasant. However, if you keep an open mind, I think-"
“What do you want me to
do?” she said coldly.
Mr. Howle was not used to being interrupted. He was charmed by its novelty. “I have a simple system
in place, for matters like these.” He opened a drawer and drew forth a
single piece of paper, printed in a regal script on heavy letter stock. «It
is a contract, which states that you will submit your body to my pleasure for this evening. For every man you give yourself to, I will remove $1,000 from
your husband's debt.»
A fierce shiver rolled down
Gabrielle's spine. “I don't understand… 'Every man?'"
Mr. Howle gestured to his
bodyguard. “Mr. Kennedy will introduce you to the rest of my security
detail. They are all strapping young men – and most of them quite well-endowed.
It's a prerequisite to joining my staff, you see. I have a little theater that
adjoins this office. If you and your husband sign this contract, that is where
you will perform for me…and Walter, if he'd like to watch.”
“If he'd…?” She couldn't believe what she was hearing, but his piercing blue eyes were deadly
serious. She had to do it. For the sake of her poor Walter. He was a wreck,
shaking in his chair, curled into a flabby ball of nerves. He was sweating
profusely, his chins jiggling in terror. What would they do to him? Would they
go so far as to kill him? One look at Mr. Howle told her they may do far worse.
“Okay, Mr. Howle,”
she said. “I'll sign your contract.”
Mr. Howle's thin lips curled
into a lustful grin. “Excellent.”