Page 64 of Auctioned

“Isn’t that what you paid for?” I scream after him. My hands are flat against the wall at my back. I don’t trust myself to stay upright without its support. These feelings will bring me to my knees. “To fuck the virgin?”

He spins. His face is blank, expression cold. It’s like he’s stripped the emotions from his soul. “Who says I won’t?”

One last look and he’s gone. James is out of sight. Out of reach.

Using what’s left of my strength, I hurl myself forward.

“I hate you.” I wrap my fingers around the cell’s bars. Stick my head out as far as it will go. Tears slide down the metal. “I hate you.”

He walks away as if nothing’s happened.

This jerk. This monster.

This man that I don’t hate at all.

13

OPHELIA

“Miss Monroe.”

Topher’s dad was nothing like him. Sure, both men were tall. Both had broad shoulders. Both stood there, in the entryway of Mr. Hawthorne’s mansion, wearing dark, expensive suits.

That was where their similarities ended.

I didn’t like it that I noticed it. It’d been three months that I hadn’t been sure about my feelings for Topher, and yet I noticed his dad from the first moment I laid my eyes on him.

Topher kept asking me out, and I kept saying yes. I believed something would change.

This wasn’t the change I dreamed of. The butterflies in my belly. The stars in my eyes.

If I ever needed a sign to end things with Topher, this was it.

Three more weeks. You promised to give him that long to sweep you off your feet.

Whether he did or not, one thing was for sure—I’d never think, dream, or feel anything for his dad.

This was where it ended.

Soft footfalls padding on stone rouse me from this half-sleep state I’ve been in for…

How long? Who knows?

I sure as hell don’t. Without windows or a clock hanging on the wall, I have no way of telling.

No, that’s not true. I do have some sense of how long I’ve been here.

I’ve used the bathroom twice. Dozed off once.

My stomach has been grumbling over and over again. I’ve hugged it and begged for it to stop twice.

Then there’s been this dull, incessant ache between my legs.

Zero—that’s the number of times I orgasmed. It feels dirty to need James so much that I have to touch myself.

This whole place, the auction, thecrawl to me. He’s been debasing me.

Making myself come will be the final nail in my coffin.

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