Page 3 of Auctioned to the Professor

“Tell me more about The Black Door,” I say.

He laughs. “Found out about the auctions, huh?”

The tone of his voice makes my hackles rise. “What auctions?”

“We’ve been trying to get you to go to one,” he says. “They’re once a month. I haven’t been in a while… Yep, it looks like there’s one tomorrow night.”

My mouth goes dry as I watch Faye and her friend get up from the bench half a block away and walk down the block. I duck out of sight at a newsstand.

“What are they auctioning?” I ask, unable to keep the menace from my voice.

Faye is fearless and wild. She’s impatient and a bit reckless, wanting to devour everything life has to offer. When he fills me in on what’s being auctioned, and confirms my fears, I have to fight to keep my control.

“Don’t go tomorrow,” I say. “If you know anyone else who’s planning to, tell them not to.”

He laughs. “Got your eye on someone who’s going to be there?”

Yes, actually. I can see her making her way closer to the newsstand out of the corner of my eye right now. Her hips sway in her skintight skirt, a light sweater clinging to every curve. Her hair is loose, flowing down her back. As she walks, she lifts her hands to gather it into a ponytail, revealing an inch of creamy skin at her waist.

Fuck. She can’t really be doing this, can she? I can understand her wanting to jump into everything all at once. Her carefree passion is one of the things that ignites my desire. I thought I had grown used to the outlandish things that Faye does, but this takes the cake.

“I’m deadly serious,” I say to the owner of my publishing company. A man who could reject my next book. As if that matters. “I don’t want to see anyone from the company there tomorrow night.”

“Fine, sure. Good luck and happy bidding,” he says, ending the call.

My hands are gripped into fists and I nearly jump when Faye’s friend greets me in a loud, cheery voice. I make sure to smile at both of them, but it’s impossible not to let my gaze linger on Faye. A slight blush rises up her pretty cheeks and her green eyes are too bright. Anticipation for tomorrow?

I feel my hands clenching again, but the friend distracts me, gushing about my books. I buy her the newest copy and sign it for her and then pretend like I’m leaving. I duck behind a corner and watch them head further down the sidewalk, where they hop on a bus that’s going in the direction of the school.

It was a good thing I decided not to fight my obsession and followed her here, found out what she’s about to do. I have to put a stop to it of course, but how? Demand she give up the foolish plan like I’m her father?

I have to win the auction. God help anyone who tries to outbid me. I head home, glad I’m a bestselling author because once the other men at the auction see Faye, no one on a college professor’s salary would stand a chance.

Chapter 3

Faye

Jen helps me pick out my outfit for the auction, the slinkiest lingerie I own under one of my tight club dresses. I think this outfit is too much, but Jen assures me it is perfect. The auction house told me to wear something sexy and the redundancy of the suggestion strikes me as kind of funny now.

Jen can’t come with me because she has a late class tonight. She tells me to have fun and be safe. I leave, my mind blank the entire way over to the rich neighborhood The Black Door is in. Once I get there, it becomes a whirlwind, along with my stomach. In the dressing room, there’s a half dozen other girls, all decked out in lingerie that makes me blush.

The manager, Ms. Calloway frowns at my pink undies and shakes her head. “These are much too modest.”

My heart sinks and I begin to apologize, cursing myself for not shelling out for something new. Rent was due this week and I couldn’t stomach spending the money when I had bills to pay. I thought my financial struggles would be coming to an end tonight, but someone has to bid on me first, and now that I see what everyone else is wearing, I can understand why Ms. Calloway looks so disappointed.

“Don’t worry about it,” she says, opening a closet and pulling out a rack full of bits of lace and satin, then leaving me to pick something.

One of the other girls pulls out a black number with a garter and stockings. “How about this one? Wait, I don’t recognize you. Is it your first time?”

I nod, having trouble finding my voice, which is something totally new.

“Your first time?” another participant says. She’s wearing a very miniaturized version of a cheerleader costume.

“Yes,” I manage to say. “You?”

They both laugh and shake their heads. Turns out one of them is on her third auction, saving up to buy a couple of apartments in Florida so she can rent them out and be financially secure.

“I’m just having fun,” the other one says, looking at the others. “We’ve all done this before, which means you’re the only virgin tonight.” They grin widely. “You’re going to make a fortune!”

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