Page 17 of Highest Bidder

It was way more than I’d been expecting. More than I thought I’d ever be worth.

But it came with a price and the reality of what that price was sat like a pit in my stomach.

I’d just sold myself.

Four weekends of sex. Whatever was in the fine print that didn’t count as physical pain. Whatever the buyer wanted, as long as it wasn’t against the rules.

But there was no going back now. That was too much money to walk away from. Not when my family needed it.

I held my head high and kept my face still.

I could survive this. I could survive anything; I even had the tattoo on my wrist to remind me of that.

Macy’s voice echoed from the stage speakers. “Sold for one hundred thousand dollars to Dr. Jeff Connolly.”

My heart lodged in my throat.

Dr. Connolly.

I blinked. It couldn’t be him. It had to be someone else. Someone with the same name.

But then I saw him, standing next to the center booth near the stage, looking as if he didn’t have a care in the world. He’d been wearing a mask at the ball, but there was no mistaking those blue eyes belonged to the man I’d turned down that evening. The blue eyes that had locked on mine. Blue orbs that were now staring right through me like he owned me.

Which, technically, he did. For the next four weekends anyway.

I forced myself to take a deep breath as I tried to make sense of what was going on.

He hadn’t chosen me before. He’d walked away like I wasn’t worth the trouble.

And now he’d paid one hundred grand to own me for a month.

Why now?

I couldn’t shake the feeling that this was personal.

What I didn’t know was why.

Chapter Nine

Vivian

I stepped backstage on shaky legs, barely aware of the applause that met me in the dressing room.

Voices buzzed around me—compliments, questions, a few playful jabs—but it all sounded muffled, like I was underwater. My blood still thrummed in my ears, drowning everything else out.

“Damn, a hundred grand?”

“She must’ve offered something real dirty in her little weekend package.”

“I mean, she looked hot. I would’ve bid on her.”

“Guess I need to step up my game.”

Cherry touched my arm, offering a grin. “You okay, Blondie?”

I nodded. Or maybe I didn’t. I wasn’t sure. Everything felt surreal.

I sank into one of the couches near the makeup station I’d used earlier where my weekend bag still sat. My fingers fidgeted in my lap while I tried to focus on anything—my breathing, the feel of the seat under me, the ticking of the clock on the wall—but nothing helped.

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