Page 39 of Highest Bidder

It felt hollow. Pure muscle memory without a trace of seduction.

I went through the motions. Made eye contact. Blew kisses.

But my body remembered something else.

Rough hands. A voice telling me to spread wider. The ache of being used and owned.

And I hated how much I missed that.

****

Jeff

It was Wednesday, and I hadn’t been able to focus since Monday.

A patient file sat open in front of me, but I’d read the same line four times without processing a single word.

But it wasn’t work that had me distracted, it was her.

Vivian.

This whole thing had started as a way to punish her for turning me down that night at the masquerade, then picking someone else.

Fucking Bradford.

So, I’d bought her.

I’d outbid the bastard just to bring her to her knees and remind her who she rejected.

It should’ve been satisfying, and for a while, it was.

But now?

I leaned back in my chair and dragged a hand down my face. I could still feel the weight of her on the pillow at my feet. Still hear that soft gasp when I’d shoved my cock in her ass. Still see the way she smiled, just a little, when she told me her favorite subject was social deviance.

She was supposed to be my whore. One month to control and use.

So why the fuck did I keep thinking about how she looked eating eggs across from me? Why did that little snort when I told her I liked control stick in my head?

That moment had been too real. Too... normal. She’d looked at me like I was something more than just her owner. And worse, I’d liked it.

I told myself this was about power and teaching her a lesson. She didn’t really matter. At least not beyond the contract.

Still, I should’ve gotten her number.

Not to talk or check in to see how she was doing, but just to make sure she was following the rules.

That was all.

Chapter Seventeen

Vivian

I checked my appearance in the mirror one last time, then put on the biometrics bracelet the club mandated I wear when I spent the weekend with Jeff and waited by the window.

Finally, the familiar black town car pulled in front of my rundown apartment building. It looked so out of place there, and frankly, I didn’t want my neighbors to know it was me getting picked up, lest they think my apartment had something worth robbing while I was gone for the weekend. So, I grabbed my purse and the bag I’d packed and hurried out the door.

The waiting driver was Tom, the one who’d driven us to Jeff’s place on Friday after the auction. He smirked when he opened my door. “Going back for more, eh?”

---