Total pages in book: 24
Estimated words: 22633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 22633 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 113(@200wpm)___ 91(@250wpm)___ 75(@300wpm)
As I read the email, my palms get sweaty, and my heart feels as if it’s going to pound out of my chest. She signed the contract. Maggie… the woman that I can’t forget. The woman that I’m obsessed with and that I pushed away is auctioning off her virginity. I stand up over my computer, hands on the desk, leaning over like I’m ready to pounce. “No!” I scream. She can’t do it. There’s no way I can let her do this. What is she thinking?
I push everything off the top of my desk and sling it to the floor. Enraged, I stomp through the cabin until I’m outside and I can’t hold back any longer. The sound that erupts from me doesn’t even sound human. It’s filled with rage. Panting, I pace back and forth, trying to catch my breath. My thoughts are everywhere, but one thing I know for sure: When she does this, when she stands on that stage to auction herself off, I’ll be the one that wins… no matter the cost.
Maggie
I’m next.
I’ve almost talked myself out of this a hundred times, but whenever I think about Ben, I know I’m doing the right thing. I don’t know why I’m hung up on him, but I’m positive doing this will finally clear all remnants of him from my head. It has to.
I don’t know what kind of hold he has on me. I met him, and thirty minutes later, I was ready to have sex with him. Three weeks later, I can’t get him off my mind. I shake my head. Geez, imagine if I actually had slept with him. I’d probably be obsessed.
This whole thing has been overwhelming. From the moment I got here to the site of the auction, I’ve been plucked and prodded. I have more makeup on than I’ve ever worn in my life, and I’m basically parading around this place in my underwear.
The owner of the auction, Coco St James, has bossed me and everyone else around, but I have to admit, it runs like a well-oiled machine.
“Now here’s a special treat. We have lucky number seven.”
I grit my teeth when they call my number, but I force my shaky legs to take me out onto the stage. The audience is dark, and I can’t see a thing, which makes this a little easier. I try to convince myself that no one is out there as I walk to the end of the stage and turn back around. My hands are straight at my sides as I try to hold down my see-through lingerie. My ass is bare, and I know I’m showing it with each step I take. Coco St. James rambles on about me, but it’s like a whoosh of air in my ear because I don’t make out anything she says. I’m full of nerves and trying not to bolt the whole time I stand here.
“Let’s start the bidding at one million.”
There’s a buzz in the room, and Coco smiles. “Well, okay, everyone. Someone is obviously smitten. I have a bid for five million. Can I get five and a half?”
I gasp, but before I can react, there are more buzzes in the room. Each one makes the bid go higher, and when Coco St. James calls the final bid at eight million dollars, I feel faint.
Someone just bought my virginity for eight million dollars.
The reality of what I’m doing hits me like a punch in the gut. I stumble off the stage, and a security guard leads me to a side room. I wait impatiently for my buyer to come, and when Bentley Barrett walks through the door, I feel a mix of relief and anger at the same time.
“No,” I say as soon as I spot him.
His eyes travel down the length of me, and my traitorous body reacts. My nipples pucker, and there’s a pull in my lower belly. Damn, he’s handsome. Even more so than I remember.
“What are you doing here?”
He walks to the counter that’s been set up. “What does it look like I’m doing?”
I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m not leaving with you.”
He lifts his hand and strokes it through his beard while he looks at me. “Yes, you are. Because I’m not leaving you here.”
The man at the counter clears his throat. “Ma’am, you signed the contract. If you have changed your mind, you will need to talk to Coco about it.” I’m about to nod my head when he continues, “But you’d be wasting your time. Unless you have eight million dollars, the contract is binding. Of course, you’re free to do whatever, but you will be the one paying the bill.”
Eight million dollars. I don’t have eight million dollars. Heck, I don’t even have eight thousand dollars. “Fine,” I say.