Page 46 of Into the Woods

She inhales deep and expels the air like it’s offended her.

If she wants to do this with restricted air, I’m happy to make that happen. Her throat would be so pretty with my hand wrapped around it.

I shake my head and try to make sense of her bullshit words buzzing softly against the exposed skin of my throat, but they make no sense. “What did you say?” I ask, my voice low.

“I’m not yours. I…I don’t belong to you, Christophe. We can’t do this.” The cadence of her words is slow, measured as though she’s explaining something ridiculously simple. Maybe she is.

She frees her wrists from my grasp and splays her hands out in front of her. “You said this is all I have that’s worth anything. If you fu— If we do this, I have nothing. I can’t pay you what you think I owe. Then what? Huh? You won’t even tell me the amount of my parents’ debt. I have no options, you said so yourself. This? My virginity is all I have to offer; you can’t take that away from me.”

Chapter 20

Desire

Winnie

“I won’t letanyone else have what’s mine.” Christophe growls at my back as I walk out of the office, thighs shaking and slick with my orgasm.

I flinch, though I don’t know if it’s from what he says or from the way his claim reverberates through me.

I have to do this. I have no other options.

As I stalk down the hallway to the main room Teague rushes toward me pulling up short when he lifts his gaze from the phone clutched in his hand. His brows rise, surprise slashed across his face.

The fast-paced speech of a typical auctioneer might be missing, but there’s no doubt from the buzzing energy spilling from the room beyond that the auction has begun. A single voice calls attention to each attribute of the poor girl on stage at the moment. Rude and lurid comments drift down the hallway between the call and confirmation of astronomical dollar amounts.

“Are they starting?” I ask, brushing past him.

Teague’s hand engulfs my upper arm as he stops me. He stares at me, gaze darting from me to the man I know is standing behind me. “Boss?”

Glancing over my shoulder shows me Christophe framed in the doorway to the office, highlighted by weak, yellow light. His jaw shifts, eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say a damn word. Not a thing until the silence is heavy and cold, pressing outward and filling the space.

Teague tilts his head listening to the buzz of words in his earpiece. His questioning gaze shoots to Christophe who nods almost imperceptibly.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asks Christophe, disbelief tainting his words. “You’re going to let this happen?”

Why wouldn’t he? Christophe has done nothing but tell me I owe him. That I’m on the hook for a debt I didn’t accrue and one I certainly can’t pay. I’m stuck.

Christophe prowls toward us, lethal promise in every measured step.

A suited security guy pops his head into the hall. “Sir, we need the girl for the next bid.”

“Let her go,” Christophe says. Cold. Emotionless like the primal passion from just minutes ago never happened, that it was nothing but a dream. The only hint he shows that he just had his face buried between my legs is the swipe of his thumb through the edge of his beard before he slides it between his lips.

Teague releases me, handing me off with a scowl at his boss.

Before walking away, I turn and address him. “Take care of Tru for me. Make sure she gets somewhere safe. I won’t beg for myself. I won’t ask you for anything else; I just need for her to be okay.”

Teague stiffens at my request, only relaxing marginally when Christophe responds, “I will.”

Head high, shoulders back, and spine straight, I turn my back on the first man I ever loved. All he’s done is play with me—my emotions, my body. My heart.God, the things he’s made me feel.Alive and wanted.

For all the wrong reasons? Yeah. But he’s always been elusive, more an imaginary friend than anything rooted in reality.

My reality, though. That’s always been the stuff of nightmares. I saw things no child should ever see. Experienced hunger and neglect and complete disregard by the people who were supposed to love me unconditionally.

I’ve been taking care of myself for as long as I can remember with only determination and a few almost miraculous finds of food or money or even clothes falling into my lap when I needed them most. This fucked up situation isn’t all that different really. Tenacity runs through my veins, and if a fortuitous miracle happens to make an appearance, even better. But there’s only one path for me to take.

I stalk away to face my fate.

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