Their Virgin Prize

I never imagined selling myself to a trio of billionaires, but it’s only one night in exchange for the rest of my brother’s life. How can I say no?

The deal is simple: sell my V-card at auction—oh, and allow the taking of my innocence to be livestreamed, too—in exchange for the cash I need to save my brother.

Standing on the stage, trembling in the spotlight in front of dozens of strangers, my eyes lock on a group of three men. Instead of creeping me out, their scorching stares awaken something inside me.

Please buy me. Please help me.

They’re even more dangerous than the criminals I’m running from because they should terrify me, but they don’t. Especially when they insist I enjoy what was supposed to be an obligation. And when they possess me in front of the ogling old men in the audience, they shield me from view.

No one’s ever taken care of me before. The three rich AF best friends who temporarily do the job are sure to abandon me once the cameras stop rolling and they’ve finished claiming what they’re owed.

It’s a duty, yes, but why shouldn’t I relish every second before I have to fix the impossible mess of my life on my own, as usual? It’s too much to hope that my first lovers won’t reject trailer trash like me once they’re done thinking with what’s in their well-tailored pants.