Prologue

BPOV

It started with suspicions. Doubts, questions, and dilemmas.

I knew Edward was hiding a briefcase in the house, just to be safe.

I also knew I was pregnant, four positive test results proved that.

His father, Carlisle Cullen, was a plastic surgeon. Yes, that famous one who operates on celebrities. His trust fund son kept that briefcase in the house, full of money and fake papers to cross the border if anything happened.

I knew Edward was cheating on me. His sweet secretary, Jessica, showed me a picture of them in a position I cannot fully explain. I never knew he never wanted anything like that, I thought I was the good, innocent fiancée that he always wanted.

That day, I knew I had to go. He didn't love me, although the night before he had no difficulties making sweet love to me. Well, sweet for him only because the bitterness I feel right now is the exact opposite.

I packed a bag with most of my things; I didn't own a lot of clothes. I never swooned over fashion either, but my love for lingerie filled the bag (Louis Vuitton, his present for Christmas). I left behind a single set composed of a bra, corset, lace panties and stockings for him to remember our last night together, and what I wore before he took them off me.

I could still remember the way he would say my name while I sucked him dry. His hands were in my hair, my face all at work.

"Bella!...Oh-FUCK! I love that, I love you…Oh God!"

Sweet memories.

And I left the apartment. I left my keys on the coffee table and the lingerie on the bed. He still had some food left over from the dinner I cooked the night before. I only hoped that Jessica knew how to cook and feed the man I took care of for five fucking years. I also hoped that she would look into his green eyes and fall for him as hard as I did.

And still do.

I closed the door behind me and took a taxi to the airport because I was running late. Can't blame a pregnant woman for crying on the floor, can you?

I was now a woman with a bag and a briefcase flying on a low-cost plane to Mexico for a complete transformation: liposuction on the whole body, breast enhancement to a C-cup, Botox shots in my lips and an abortion. Of course, I made sure I looked different by bleaching my hair platinum blonde, threading my eyebrows Christina Aguilera style, putting on make-up for the first time in my life on a daily basis and wearing blue contacts, although I stuck to my glasses most of the time.

Enrique would take care of me after the surgeries, he promised when I called him on the morning of my flight. Enrique is a man of respect – if you don't take him too seriously.

I met him through Edward when Enrique still used to be in the business field. That was before he got a major lawsuit and illegally crossed the border, leaving everything behind. He was never found by the police or authorities, so decided to live in a small village in Mexico, close to bigger towns with their own needs. He needed to make money fast and not call anyone in the US for a sum of his grand fortune he had to leave to his wife and two kids. He only knew how to do one thing, and do it well – so that's what he chose as a job, too.

He took a holiday from his job and fed me ice chips and chicken soup for ten days. Then he had to get back to his job at night on the streets. He promised he would work hard enough to support the both of us.

The weeks went by and I was feeling a lot better. I wanted to start my life again, maybe take up a new job that had nothing to do with my old one. Since I didn't have any diplomas to prove I was a nurse, I couldn't take up my old job at a hospital anyway.

Enrique's neighbourhood was in need of a nurse, and I knew that there was no one to stop me from offering to take the job and help the sick children on the streets. Most of those kids were complete accidents, no woman in this neighbourhood was a hard person to seduce or even get raped by men. Or of course, do it for the money and get pregnant along the way.

So I offered for the job. The women came to me with their children and babies so I could perform some routine check-ups on them. I was paid in different ways: food that they cooked or free items from the Saturday market that was held in the neighbouring village.

I was in dire need of some money, knowing very well that if I didn't get some fast I'd die of hunger. I knew I could never ask Enrique for some, because even his job was affected by the economical crisis.

How much could a gigolo make out of house calls? Not enough, which is why I had to come up with a plan soon if I wanted to survive. He sat me down one night before he left for work and forced an idea down into my head, an idea that I would never agree to, not even in my special state.

"Bells, soy seguro! There's no other option for a person like you," Enrique said, sighing softly. "Unless I have to start accepting men's house calls too-"

"No, I understand. I'm doing this, Enrique. It's my last chance and you're right, there's no other option. Me voy, okay? Te quiero and I hope you're going to be fine. Gracias por todo, es mi amigo de verdad."

He sobbed and patted my stomach. "What are you going to do con el bebe? Yo no quiero que mi sobrino se siente mal en esa casa."

I laughed dryly, although his words were really sweet. "No, the baby is going to be okay. I just – thank you for talking to Big Em for me, really. My first thousand dollars come by Western Union to you, don't you dare not accept it!" He laughed and pushed my arm lightly.

"Get on that plane Bella, and invent a good name for the clients. Yo te quiero tambien, tu saves eso."

The next morning I was out and away. I left Enrique a note on the kitchen table included a big thank you and a message saying I would contact him as soon as I got the chance. The low-cost plane hadn't saved me any money since I had to switch transportation along the way to Moundhouse, Nevada.

Moundhouse, Nevada. I had had no idea where my final destination would be, but I was sure that people from there knew what I had been talking about. As I walked down the street in Carson City, I made a sign for a car to stop, and then I waited. After a while, a car stopped and rolled down the window. A man in his upper twenties glared at me, and then smiled.

"What can I do for you, ma'am? You sure seem lost."

I ignored his lustful voice and got to my point. "Do you know where the Bunny Ranch is? I want to know how much it would take me to walk there."

He laughs lightly and opens the passenger door. "I'm actually going there, darlin'. How about I drop you there too? Fine with me." I nodded in excitement and hopped in.

I hated starting conversations, but I knew I had to do it then. "So, why are you going there?" He laughed lightly again and checked his rear mirror.

"It's what every man wants at some point. Where are you from? Not from hereabouts for sure. And why would you be going to the Bunny Ranch yourself?"

"I work there. And no, I just came back to the US from a little trip to Mexico." He eyed me, taking a long look at my body. Well, the road was empty, so my fear of someone crashing into us was instantly dismissed.

"How 'bout we make a deal, um-"

"Bella."

"No, something saucier...Roxy? Sounds good?" I nod and gave him a gesture to continue. "So, Roxy, how 'bout I be your first client at the Bunny Ranch and get to show you how it's done."

I thought about it for a second and realised that it would be best if I practiced with him rather than embarrassing myself with future clients. "One more thing, -"

"Jasper Whitlock, darlin'."

"Yes, Jasper, I have to tell you something else. I'm pregnant." He laughed loudly and patted my shoulder.

"S'okay with both me and Big Em, I know his policy. As long as the clients like it and you make money off of it, he'll keep you." He took a left on the road and pulled up into a large parking lot. "Welcome to the Bunny Ranch, Roxy…Jones. Roxy Jones."

We both stepped out of the car as buffed-up, bulky man of about 30 greeted us at the entrance of the mansion. He offered to take my bag and now-almost-empty briefcase, smiling.

"You must be Bella, Enrique's recommendation! I'm Big Em and please, step inside and meet the rest of the girls, they've lined up for you." I stepped inside and entered a large living room with several couches. In front of me were four girls, all of them staring at me while grinning.

"Oh, you must be Bella! Hey!" A small, pixie-like thing came and gave me a hug. They all came and did the same; I didn't hesitate and hugged all of them tightly. They're going to be my friends from now on, I thought to myself. They all stood back and lined back up.

"Okay girls, line up and introduce yourselves by real name, then your stage name." The pixie takes a quick breath and stood as if she was posing. "I'm Alice, alias Tinkerbell."

The next one, a blonde one took the same pose. "I'm Rosalie, alias Starry Night."

The one next to her, a girl with intense red hair poses. "I'm Tanya, alias Strawberry."

The last one, a little older than the rest stood the pose. "I'm Victoria, alias Chocolate."

A roar of laughter is heard from the foyer and I turned around to see Jasper, Big Em and another much older woman standing next to them, all three of them laughing. She saw me and I smiled.

"Hi Bella! I'm Renee, your new mother here!" She came and gave me a motherly hug, which made me melt into her arms. "So, are you going to pose like them? Let me see."

I stood away from her and turned to the side so all of them could see me. Copying the pose, I lifted my head up proudly and said, "I'm Bella, alias Roxy Jones." They all sat still for a second, then clapped and cheered. The claps suddenly stopped when Big Em and Jasper stepped into the room.

"So you've all met our new addition, right." It sounded more like a statement rather than a question, "Now she has her first client too!" Big Em clapped twice and I smiled shyly at Jasper. He held out his hand and I grabbed it. We both went up the stairs, taking me by the waist and waving at Big Em. "Now, you know where to go Whitlock, master bedroom's yours for today."

He led me down a hallway with several rooms on both sides, doors closed and names of each of the girls on them. The last door at the end of the hallway was wide open. He squeezed my hand lightly, the gesture reassuring me in some way.

We went inside the room and I realized why this really is the 'master bedroom'. There was a large, king-sized bed in the middle of the room with two couches on both far corners, and another door that was closed.

I didn't notice the fact that I'd been so quiet when he let go of my hand and gestured me to sit down on the bed.

"We gotta talk some things through before you start workin', babe." I shuddered at the word 'babe', it brought out some intense memories from my past that were the reason why I was there.

I sat down and he joined me, sitting very close. His warmth is nothing compared to what Edward could give me, the voice in my mind protested.

"Okay, how do I start? Talk to the client?" There was probably a million questions I could ask him about my new job, and he's the one who knows the answers.

"You ask him what fantasy he has. Usually they have a fantasy they want to act out that their wives won't do."

"Or maybe they just want to have sex, doesn't it work like that too?"

My poor knowledge of whores made him laugh and shake his head.

"Roxy, the guys that come here don't want to do you like they do their wives or girlfriends. They want themselves in your ass and mouth; it's as simple as that."

Easier said than done, Whitlock

He made it seem like it was such an easy task …but what will I do with the fantasies they have? What if it's something kinky that I have no desire to act out?

"Tell me about the fantasies."

"Oh, you can pass those to someone else if you can't complete them. Although I do see you as a future favourite of the clients, Roxy, pregnant whores are the best at panting for no reason at all."

I take a deep sigh and lean with my back on the bed. After a split-second spent thinking, I put on my husky voice. "Okay Whitlock, condom on and do me like you wouldn't do your girlfriend."

He twists me around, rock hard and ready for some action.

A/N: Hmm. Doesn't taste salty neither sweet.

Lovessit!