Page 7 of Cookies and Control

I’ve never been so grateful for silence as the auctioneer allows a few last seconds for anyone to jump in.

“Sold! To bidder number sixty-three!”

Five

Betsy

Did my Stepdad win me? Did his brother? Was it both of them? I can hope!

My skin tingles at the thought of what the night holds, as long as they aren’t undermining me. It pains me to wait, but I promised Sabrina I wouldn’t leave her alone. Her plastered smile is bright and confident, hiding her anxiety.

Hottie McDollarSigns gave me a scare, but he’s making good on his promise to Sabrina. He has a new determination this time with a starting bid of one million and the fierce expression that screams he’s not going to let her stepbrothers defeat him.

Sabrina’s aware that her stepbrothers are total eye candy and probably finger and tongue and other candy too—we all are—but she needs a winner who will have sex with her.

My thoughts wander to how my evening will play out with Bull and Rocky—it’s probably best I think of them by their names and not our relationships.

I’m a mess of emotions, but there’s something primal pulsing through my veins. They didn’t tell me to get off the stage or force me to go home—good signs.

My gaze drifts to Rocky again. He’s leaning against the bar now, his muscular arms crossed over his chest. His tattoos are a stark contrast to his crisp white shirt, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His dark hair is disheveled like he’s been running his hands through it. I can’t help but imagine what those hands would feel like running through my hair, gripping it tightly as he… I shake my head, trying to dislodge the thought, but it’s too late.

My knees are weak, and wet heat pools between my legs. My breaths are barely capable of normalcy. The prospects tonight holds are almost too much to bear.

And then there’s my stepdad—I mean, Bull. I like that. His suit is impeccable, tailored to fit his broad shoulders. His salt-and-pepper hair is neatly styled, and his rigid jawline holds even more sex appeal than normal.

Our previous existence has been like reading the little sayings from fortune cookies, but tonight, we’re adding ‘in bed’ to the end.

What will it be like to have his authority unleashed in the form of sexual play? How will he discipline me? Spankings? Edging? Forced sex… My knees buckle at the thought of consensual non-consent play.

My knees threaten to give out again. I grab one of the chairs they provided for us to wait in.

I’m too wobbly. The chair skids across the floor and I tumble to the ground.

The hum of the auctioneer’s voice stops. Silence draws my attention to the stage. Jefferson and Sabrina are staring.

Sabrina smiles nervously as I give a thumbs-up, then stand. Rocky and Bull appear at the edge of the stage, but I wave them off.

“As you were.” I play off my ridiculousness to get Jefferson to resume.

I’m a hot mess, my body responding to thoughts I shouldn’t be having. Thoughts of calling Bull Daddy instead of Dad. I wish I could get the fantasies to slow down.

Focusing on the here and now, I squeal when Hottie McDollarSigns outbids Sabrina’s stepbrothers. She and I exchange nods, confirming that she’s good before Rocky guides me off the stage.

He ushers me into one of the private rooms, the noise of the club muffled behind the closed door. Bull draws the curtain across the glass wall, sealing us away from prying eyes.

“Alright, Betsy,” Bull starts, his voice steady and calm. “We’ll give it a few minutes, then you make some… sex sounds, and we’ll call it good.”

Sex sounds? My dreams are shattered. He’s really not going to go through with this.

Then I get an idea from the shelf of sex toys behind him. There are a bunch of dildos and things I’m not sure what to do with. I point. “Fine, but I won’t be faking.”

Bull turns to see the sex toys, and uses hisdon’t backtalk meDad voice. “Absolutely not.”

I’m deciding if it’s worth objecting when he continues. “Do you even know what to do with those?”

Barring the ones I indeed don’t know what to do with, I say, “They look pretty self-explanatory.”

“I’d be willing to help—” Rocky’s pants are tented.

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