Page 4 of Cookies and Control

Cleaning up, I make a game plan.

I storm through the club’s back hallways, following the signs to the management office. My fist pounds on Lazovski’s door before I burst in without waiting for a response.

“She can’t participate.” My voice shakes with barely contained rage.

Lazovski looks up from his desk, cool and collected. “Which ‘she’ are you referring to?”

“Betsy. My stepdaughter.”

He pulls a paper from a file. “She’s nineteen, able to sign a contract.”

My stomach lurches. “You can’t be serious. She’s… innocent.”

“That’s the point of the ChristmasCherryAuction—virgins choosing to auction their first time for charity with the promise of a positive experience.”

“Choose? You’re taking advantage—”

“I protect them.”

I rake my hands through my hair.

He continues, “Perhaps you should ask yourself why you’re so invested in your adult stepdaughter’s sexual choices?”

The question is a punch to the gut, but I cover my true feelings. “Any father would be concerned.”

“The auction proceeds as planned.” Lazovski stands and moves to the door. “And we promise Betsy a good, safe experience with the safety option to withdraw.”

Plan B. I rush to the main floor, find Betsy, and pull her to a quiet corner near the dressing rooms. “You can’t auction yourself. These men might not respect your boundaries. A stranger could take things too far.”

Her eyes spark with newfound defiance. She lifts her chin. “Too far? I’m game for an awful lot.” She ticks off each item on her fingers. “Blindfolds, handcuffs, spankings… maybe even a good forced encounter, for starters. I want someone who will take total control.”

My throat closes. The room spins. I can’t process hearing those words from her lips. “This isn’t like those romance novels you read.”

She gnaws on her lower lip then says, “I know what I want, and the Christmas Cherry Auction has a pretty great track record.”

I choke on the track record. Everyone knows the auction is perfect for pairing up virgins and groups of men.

Plan C. Hopefully, the third time’s a charm. “What would your grandmother think? How will you face her at the family Christmas party in less than two weeks?”

“It’s not like I plan on telling her. Plus, no one can talk about what happens at the sex club.” Betsy’s voice grows unsteady. “So, unless you have a real reason I shouldn’t participate, it’s not your choice.”

Does she know about my feelings for her? Has she heard me late at night or in the shower? Surely I haven’t been that careless. Does she hate me for my thoughts? There’s nothing charming about them.

She storms away, the distance growing far larger than the number of steps. My beautiful swan is finding her wings.

Rocky walks up. “She looked pissed. What happened?”

Plan D. “I’m going to have to buy her.”

Three

Betsy

From my position beside the stage, I watch Jasmine work the crowd into another frenzy. She blows kisses that spark bidding wars. The bids climb higher and higher, hitting seven figures.

The brave face I wore with my stepfather diminishes with each increasing bid. Jasmine can create hype. She’s not just gorgeous, but wild—the opposite of me. I don’t belong on stage.

Naomi is up next, and the dollar amounts go equally as high, although her mountain men with dad bods aren’t the average billionaires in the room.

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