Stephenie Meyer owns all things Twilight related.

This is my first story ever. Mickey-Wulf did me the honor of betaing this. I would love to get some feedback just to see if I should continue writing. Enjoy!

BPOV

I am not a whore.

I am NOT a whore.

I am NOT a WHORE.

I am NOT A WHORE.

I AM NOT A WHORE.

Please God let me not be a whore.

"No, Alice. I am not a whore. I just live in a whore house, there is a difference."

Actually saying it aloud did not help my case as much as I would have thought. I can't even convince myself so how could I possibly convince the one person who knows me better than I know myself. This is not going how I planned.

"What do you mean you live in a whorehouse?" screamed Alice into the phone. "Really, Bella?"

"I mean I live in a whore house. You know, the place where they sell ass and titties? What the fuck else could I mean?"

"I know what the fuck a whorehouse is, but what I don't know is why you are living in one. Please enlighten me."

That right there is the million-dollar question, baby. Why do I live in a whorehouse? I've asked myself this question too many times to even count. The answer wasn't complicated, just really fucked up.

"Because I don't have anywhere else to go."I snapped because really that was what it all boiled down to. I had nothing. I had no one else to turn to. Despite my strong relationship with Alice, I couldn't bring her down with my problems. Listening to my problems is one thing, letting my problems invade your living space was another. I love Alice to death and I know she feels the same about me but I just couldn't put that strain on our relationship. She was my only friend and I refused to lose her because I fucked up.

"Bells," Alice cooed, "you always have somewhere to go as long as I'm alive. You know that. Nevertheless, I need to understand why you chose to be a whore. Do you really need money that badly?"

Who the fuck uses the word nevertheless? Ha.

"Ugh. Once again, I am NOT a whore." I groaned as loudly as I could. "I moved in with my dad, you know, Charlie. He just neglected to mention that his home, I'm using that term very loosely, is a certified whorehouse."

That should explain most of my problem. My father apparently thought it was a good idea to move his 24-year-old daughter into his cunt mansion without revealing the fact that it was a cunt mansion.

I am not stupid. Honestly, I'm not. I knew that my father was the mid west version of Hugh Hefner gone wild. What I did not know was that he actually lived here with his whores and expected me to live there as well. I mean with all the money that comes in from these perverts I would think he would have had something private for himself but no, he wants to be where the action is. Goddamn voyeur.

The first time I saw his house a few days ago I was astounded. The place was huge. The property was a little more than an acre of trees and meadows with a great view of the Hudson River. Everything was impeccably landscaped but the house itself was a remarkable sight. Most of the two-story house was made of glass. You could see straight through the kitchen and living room to the backyard. Even the walls of the bedrooms were made of glass. Like I said, goddamn voyeur.

"Seriously?" Alice sighed. "Ok but that doesn't explain the proposition."

Of course it doesn't. A daughter moves in with her pimp of a father and is offered money for sex after being there for only two hours. That doesn't make sense at all. Cue eye motherfucking roll.

"Yes, seriously. I couldn't make this shit up if I tried."I replied, really at a loss for words to convey my annoyance. "And apparently I look like a rent a pussy. Who knew jeans and a t-shirt were the new hoe uniform?"

"Oooh, you have a uniform?"Alice squealed into the phone. I could hear her clapping with her excitement. "Can I design one for you if you don't? That would be fun!"

"Really, bitch. I'm over here about to get sold as a sex slave and you are concerned about my fucking wardrobe." I seethed.

"Look, don't spoil my fun because you can't get your shit together. If you're going to be whore at least let me make you look like an expensive one."Alice laughed.

"For the last motherfucking time, I AM NOT A WHORE. Just because I am considering taking him up on his offer does not make me a whore. Desperate, maybe, but definitely not a whore. I think he was just kidding anyway." I tried to reason with her but who the fuck was I kidding? I am a whore. "But you should have seen him Alice. He was the sexiest man in all of creation. How could I say no? The universe would have imploded with the sheer madness of it. I actually just saved the world. I should be given a fucking medal."

Honestly, I did just save the world, at least my world. On sight that man became the center of my universe. He was delicious. I don't even describe my favorite foods as delicious but this man made my mouth water. Tall, dark bronze hair, gorgeous eyes, luscious lips, muscular body with the swagger of a king. Not to mention the sight of him in a suit that probably costs more than most people's rent was mesmerizing.

Now a pretty face does not easily impress me. I am not that kind of girl but I do appreciate pure beauty when I see it and he was perfection. Tingles directly through my lady parts kind of perfection. That could not be denied.

"Ha. You want a whore of the year award. Isn't it a little early in your new found career for that?" Alice cackled. She seemed to be finding this a little too amusing.

"It's never too early to be a good whore. You of all people should know that. I'm just trying to make the best out of my fucked up situation." I reasoned, "I would do him for free so why not get paid for it."

And that right there is the truth if I ever heard it. Just thinking about his sexiness made my vajayjay sweat. His skin looked like heaven. I would probably pay him to let me touch him. Or have him touch me with his long fingers, or suave tongue, or… ok, so not probably, most definitely. And I'd beg…like a dog. I have no shame.

Alice mused, "Well, if you were going to do it anyway then I don't see the problem. You know what they say, when in Rome and all that good shit."

She had a point. I do not think my father would see it that way though. Which begs the question, how do you tell your mack daddy that one of his clients wants to buy his daughter for the night?

Not so sure that will go over too well. Charlie is open to a lot of things but my legs being the thing that is open isn't one of them. Hypocrisy is his drug of choice on most occasions. Let him tell it, I'm still a virgin. I'm not but I'd be damned if I correct him.

"Charlie is the problem. Oh, and not to mention I didn't tell the guy I wasn't a hooker." I mumbled.

"Bella, I don't know what to tell you. You created this mess so you have to find a way to fix it on your own." No fucking sympathy. Unhelpful bitch. "You should have been honest in the first place. But back to the important part of this story. Since you're selling your goods to the highest bidder, would you prefer to wear leather or something a little lacy?"

"I only have two days to figure this out." I screamed into the phone. My frustration was getting the best of me. "Either I look like a damn fool in front of my personal manifestation of the perfect man or I kill my father with the news that his daughter wants to join the family business as one of his hoes. I need help not a damn costume. Please."

"Sorry babe. I've got nothing. Call me later."

I just hung up.

Calling Alice was suppose to solve my problem not leave me still stuck on stupid.

I need to do something. Screaming into my pillow might help.

"AAAAARRRRGGGH…."

Nope. My problems are still there.

Laying in this awesome bed, trying to figure out how to get that hot man in it while not having my father kick me out of it is going to take some serious thought. Why can't things ever be simple? All I want is to get laid by that gorgeous man and marry him and have his babies and grow old with him…in that order. I don't know why I'm even thinking that far ahead. If Charlie doesn't kill me or him, then I will surely die of embarrassment when he finds out I lied to him. Well omitted the truth is more like it but I don't think that will matter. How did I get myself into this? Ah, I remember, I'm a total dumbass.

Moving here meant my salvation. At least that's what I kept telling myself.

After graduating from college with a Bachelor's degree, which I have no clue what to do with, I went to work as a manager at the mall. My parents were disappointed to say the least. My mom, Renee, thought it was just a phase. She said I would find a 'real' job eventually. Charlie just ignored me because to him ignorance is bliss.

I should keep that in mind.

Despite their opinions, I loved my job. I was free to be creative. Hiring a staff that I was comfortable with and arranging the displays according to my own vision was liberating. That store was MY world. The moment I stepped through those doors, I felt powerful. Planning the days, directing my staff, interacting with the customers, making money, it was all so exhilarating. Nothing compared to making a big sale and earning a new customer. I reveled in the high. I could feel the adrenaline coursing through my veins every time one of my displays attracted someone inside or my staff used what I taught them to kick ass in sales. In that store, I was the master and I loved every second of it. Until James took it all away from me…

I fucking hate that prick.

With no job and no backup plan, I went to my parents.

Renee was supportive of my decision to leave. This had more to do with her extreme gypsy tendencies than her faith that everything would work out. She was never in one place more than a year. She called it soul searching, I called it crazy…bat shit crazy to be more precise. So since I lived with her that was also my life. I was a forced nomad. Bouncing from school to school, not having long lasting friendships, always feeling displaced. No wonder I don't know what to do with my life. She totally fucked me up.

My mother's obvious instability was the main reason I chose to go to my dad. Charlie was stability. Voyeuristic, kinky, unholy, perverted stability but who am I to judge. He didn't make it easy to ask though.

I never liked asking my parents for anything. I preferred my independence. Being able to do for myself and make all my own choices was great. I was the only person I knew wouldn't fail me. Even when I was living with Renee, I was on my own. Ever since I turned nine I cooked for myself, got myself to school, I practically raised myself. Now I had to suck it up.

When I first approached Charlie about my situation, he told me to tough it out. I tried, I really did but I'm very sure that he didn't mean for me to end up getting arrested because I assaulted my boss and ended up in prison being some thick chick named Heavy Chevy's playmate. Because believe me that that is exactly what would have happened if I had stayed, minus Heavy. Hopefully.

My dad caved after a few months of pressuring him to save his baby girl. Yeah, I played the daddy's little girl card; so, sue me.

This morning was my last day of hauling boxes from my old apartment. As soon as I dropped the last box in my new room, which I prayed had been disinfected, I made my way toward the kitchen. And that's where I first saw him.

I wasn't expecting anyone else to be in the house so I damn near literally jumped out of my skin when I rounded the corner and he was standing there.

"Shhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhit!" I screamed as I held my chest trying to keep my heart from jumping out of that motherfucker. "Who the fuck are you?"

"Sorry if I startled you. I was told that I was expected." He stated as he smiled at me. Damn he has some nice lips.

"Oh." That was my brilliant reply. I think I might have drooled a little too.

"Hmm. You are a very pretty girl. I don't think Charlie has ever mentioned you to me before."

My next well-formed response was to giggle.

I giggled.

I fucking giggled like a little school girl. He must think I'm retarded. I know I would if I was him.

"I would like to get to know you better. I know I already told Charlie I wanted Tanya for Thursday but I think you would suit me better."His words coupled with the way he was staring at me sent shivers down my spine.

"Uh sure."

What the fuck do you mean 'uh sure'? I think he just asked me to replace his previously selected whore. I am not a whore.

"Good. Please tell Charlie that I apologize for my abrupt change and I'll gladly double his rate."

"Uh sure."

He laughed, "Right, sure. I'll see you on Thursday at 6 pm sharp."

And with that he turned his fuck hot suited body on his expensively covered heels and left me standing there. Again, I think I was drooling.

As soon as the door closed behind him, I remembered something. Something very important.

I AM NOT A WHORE.

Now what the fuck do I do?

A/N: Hopefully I haven't lost you guys. Let me know what you think.