"Uhhhhh," Brock grunted, "Uhhhhh. Jesus Christ, Ted, you weren't kidding – she's really tight."
Ted was sitting right beside them, grinning wickedly as he watched Brock's thick pale meat slamming in and out of Trish's tiny wet cunt-mouth. But soon Trish didn't see him, couldn't think of anything but the rapidly mounting excitement in her gripping little box. A few more furious deep thrusts of Brock's fat rock-hard cock, and she was coming.
"Ahhhhh," she moaned.
Brock felt her tiny teenage cunt start to convulse in orgasm, and he let go, plunging deep into her and squirting her little box full of sizzling jism. The girl was still writhing and whining when he withdrew, his cock limp and empty and dripping with come.
"Get dressed," he said coolly. "I'll run you back to the club."
As they left, Brock and Ted shook hands warmly, and Ted said, "That was some fantastic evening, old buddy. Thanks."
"Glad you enjoyed it," Brock said. "We'll do it again next time you're in town."
But not with me, Trish thought angrily.
Brock was happy and grinning as they drove back to the club, but Trish said nothing, just stared out the window. Her dreams of falling in love were shattered, but where did she go from here? Could she possibly marry a man who treated her like this? She knew that after tonight's experience she could never respect Brock Spalding again.
But there was always the money, that desperately needed money. And now Trish had another motive – revenge. She really wanted to take Brock for every penny he had, not just for her mother's sake, but because he'd used and humiliated her. She didn't feel like a little girl any more. She felt like a angry woman out for vengeance.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Several days had passed since the incident with Ted Grace. Pat had just arrived for work at the Tango Club when Brock called her into his office. She went warily, suspecting he had some humiliation in store for her.
When Pat stood before his desk in her outrageously tiny black costume, Brock paused a moment just to feast his eyes.
"Yes, Brock?" Pat said nervously. "What do you want? I really should get to work."
"You won't have to work the bar tonight," Brock said, "at least not till much later. I want you to come with me and meet some of my friends."
"Oh, no," Pat said, backing away, "not that again. I hated it last time, Brock, you must have known that."
Brock scowled at her. "Baby, you don't learn very fast," he said. "You know the rules – do what the boss says or lose your job."
His threat had always worked before, but this time Pat stood firm. She wasn't about to degrade herself again for a man who obviously didn't care about her. Even Trish's security wasn't worth that price. Pat felt sure she could get a job somewhere else now that she'd had some experience waiting tables.
"I'm sorry, Brock," she said gravely, "but the answer is no. I won't be your whore. And if that means I lose this job, so be it."
Brock thought fast. He had a private party planned for his most important business associates, men who could make or break his career, and he'd promised them a special treat – making love to a mother and daughter. He had to have Pat and Trish available and cooperative tonight. He decided to play on Pat's emotions. He knew perfectly well that she was infatuated with him and hoping to marry him.
He got up and walked to her and put his arms around her. "Honey," he said tenderly, "I know I haven't treated you right, but it won't be long now before I can give you everything you want. I just have to make a go of this business, impress a few more people, and I'll be set for life. Think about it, Pat – if you were my wife, you wouldn't have to work, and your daughter would have everything she needs."
Pat stared at him open-mouthed. She'd just heard words she'd thought she'd never hear – Brock Spalding proposing marriage! Even though she no longer loved or trusted him, marriage would solve all her financial problems and provide a secure future for Trish. It was a chance she simply couldn't pass up. One more night of humiliation wasn't too much to pay for a lifetime of wealth.
"All right, Brock," she said. "Just what do you want me to do?"
"Good girl," Brock said with a grin. "I just want you to entertain a few of my friends, just like you did with Ted. These guys are prepared to pour plenty of money into the club, and I want to make sure they have a good time."
Pat shuddered. Though he didn't come right out and say it, he wanted her to prostitute herself again – and with more than one man. Her conscience rebelled, but she told herself that she had to do it for Trish. Just one more ordeal and she could be Mrs. Brock Spalding. Yes, she thought, I'll do it for my daughter.
Brock could practically see the wheels turning in her mind. He knew he had her. Naturally he hadn't meant a word of his phony marriage proposal, but Pat didn't have to know that. He just needed her for tonight, and after that he didn't give a damn what happened to her. She would have served her purpose.
"Just get your coat and wait for me in the car," he said, giving her a quick kiss. "I sure appreciate this, honey, and I promise you it'll be the last time I'll ask you to do it."
Those wards reassured Pat completely. She felt she could endure ANYTHING for one night, as long as it meant guaranteeing her future and Trish's. She went to wait for Brock in the car, and soon they were on their way. Brock drove to the same hotel where Ted had stayed and took her up to the same lavish suite.
"I rented the suite for the evening," he told her, "to impress my friends. It's costing me a bundle, but it'll be worth it if they decide to invest in the club. And I'm sure they will, baby, if you show them all a good time."
"Yes, Brock," Pat said dully, "whatever you want."
They entered the suite, and Pat saw six men sitting around sipping drinks. They were middle-aged and prosperous-looking, some of them attractive and some not. When Pat entered they all stared hungrily at her. Brock whisked off her coat and left her in just her enticing skin-tight costume.
There were whistles and exclamations of delight. One of the men said, "Jesus, Brock, she's gorgeous. Where'd you find her?"
"This is Pat Adams," Brock said, "and she's a waitress at my club. AD my girls are beautiful, and that's why the club's going to be a big success – IF I get enough backers."
The other man laughed and said, "I got the point, Brock. But let's see how this lady performs. When does the party start?"
"Right now," Brock said with a grin. "Pat, honey, I want you to go into that bedroom and take off your clothes. My friends will be along shortly."
Pat blushed right down to her toes. She didn't like the situation at all, but she was determined to go through with it. Obediently she marched to the room Brock had indicated and closed the door behind her.
When she was gone, Brock grinned wickedly and said to his friends, "Okay, that's the mother. You guys have some fun with her, and I'll go get the daughter."
"Hey, Brock," one of the men said, "you wouldn't be pulling our legs, would you? I mean are they really mother and daughter?"
"Oh, yeah," Brock said, "that's for real. But just remember our agreement – they're not supposed to know about each other being here. Not till I give the word."
The others nodded and laughed, and Brock left the suite.
Meanwhile Pat had taken off her costume and was lying naked on the king-size bed, her heart pounding. It was clear what Brock wanted her to do – fuck every man in that room. Only the thought of marrying Brock and sharing his money kept her from running away. And only for Trish's sake would she prostitute her body in this cold-blooded and disgusting way.
Pat stared when the bedroom door suddenly opened.
"Hello there, beautiful," the man said.