Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66217 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 331(@200wpm)___ 265(@250wpm)___ 221(@300wpm)
With my hair down in careless waves and my makeup kept mostly natural, I look like some kind of sea nymph that just rose from the ocean spray.
One that wants to fuck.
“Please wait here until someone comes for you. They’ll bring you out to the stage where the bidding will take place and then bring you back here to reside until the auction ends and the details of payment are finalized. You will meet the winner in the room they book after all that’s done.”
My stomach feels hollow in a way that has nothing to do with hunger. This is happening. There’s no going back now. Maybe there wasn’t from the moment I got that first text message. Earlier, even.
“Okay,” I manage.
The person smiles. “We handle these things with the utmost care. Your payment will be deposited in the account you provided us before you leave this room.”
“It’s too bad I’m not a virgin. I’d make a killing.”
They laugh a little. “You’d be surprised. Some of our clients’ tastes run to the untouched, but plenty of them prefer a partner who knows what they like and is willing to experiment.”
Experiment.
The word sends a zing right through me. “Right. Well, I guess that’s me.”
“I’ll be back when it’s time.”
Once again, I’m left alone with my own thoughts. This time, though, there are none to speak of. I sit numbly and wait for my turn, wait for my fate.
It might be an hour or mere minutes later that my door opens and the Concierge appears. Their expression is just as professionally blank as ever. “It’s time.”
I don’t see another soul as they lead me down the hallway and into another new part of the building. I half expected them to have converted the viewing room into the stage, but I should have known better. It’s peak rich people to have an entire fucking theater in their basement. I suppose I can’t throw stones considering what family I was born into, but it’s honestly ridiculous.
And maybe I’m just trying to distract myself from the reality that I’m about to be auctioned off and that I have absolutely no control over who wins the bid. I either trust Wolf or I don’t. Maybe it’s the height of foolishness that I do, but I cling to the memory of the stranger from the viewing.
The Wolf has his eye on her. You know better than to get between that one and his prey.
If that person knew it, then maybe others do too. Maybe there won’t even be a bidding war. Maybe I’m building this up in my head and it will be downright disappointing.
The Concierge stops just in front of a large doorway that stretches into darkness. “The stage is through here. Walk to the other doorway and wait to be summoned.”
A bolt of fear makes me forget my attempt at bravery. “You’re leaving?”
“I have other auction items to retrieve. Go.” They turn and walk away.
There’s nothing to do but walk through the doorway and into the shadows. There’s a piece of clothing carefully draped over a chair nearby, and I can’t help shifting to it. My eyes go wide when I recognize the Bryson inauguration dress. Why’s it just sitting here? Shouldn’t it be on stage right now, securing bidders? Maybe the original owner changed their mind.
I could probably back out and beg for them to release me from the contract. But my pride won’t let me. Guilt rises, and I shift from foot to foot. My pride. What a joke. I should be focused on doing this for Luke, to keep him safe, but all I’ve had my mind on is Wolf.
You really are a selfish bitch, aren’t you?
Yeah. I really am.
I lift my chin, take a deep breath, and charge through the doorway. Three steps in, I realize the space isn’t as dark as it looked from the outside. There’s a faint light coming around a corner, and a hush of whispers reaches me as I get closer.
“Sold! For a dollar to the man of the hour. Me.” A crooning voice makes my skin go tight. It’s as if sex was bottled into sound. He laughs, low and sinful. “You had a choice.”
I stop just inside a second doorway and look out into a large room. It’s hard to see because of the lighting—a theme in this place. I catch sight of a lean white woman with long dark hair walking down the steps on the other side of the stage, her head bowed and her fists clenched. She’s not wearing anything but her skin.
Suddenly I feel downright overdressed.
Wait, did she just sell herself for a dollar?
I’m so distracted by the sight of her bare ass and the low price tag that I completely missed the other person on the stage. He’s not naked, but there’s something about him that suggests sex in a much more over-the-top way than the naked woman. He’s a white man dressed in low-slung leather pants and little else, his long white-blond hair pulled into a bun with parts braided, a ring glinting on his sensual lower lip.