Page 9 of Crushing Clover

He chuckled. “No reason for lies. We’ve known each other long enough to be honest.”

I shook my head. “Sorry, but I’m not the woman you’re looking for.”

He gave a short laugh. Rather than walking off, he pushed my tangled hair back from my shoulders. “No tattoos?”

“No.”

He grunted, but I wasn’t sure if it was approval.

“Tell me I’m a pompous ass.”

Hesitantly, I parted my lips, darting a glance up and down the row to make sure there were no guards around.

“You’re a pompous ass?” I hazarded. Was he the kind of guy who liked to be dominated or were we reenacting something?

“Hmm. Your voice is similar enough, I think.”

What the fuck was this guy talking about?

Chuckling, he jotted down my number on his scrap of paper. I hadn’t seen anyone with a phone since we’d come in, so I assumed they’d been taken away at the door.

“Turn around and touch your toes.”

I blinked at him, wishing I hadn’t caught this man’s attention. Most of the other girls were being poked and prodded, sure, but I hadn’t seen anyone else being made to do something so embarrassing.

Wanting to shrivel up and die, I did as I was told. His hands made contact with my bottom, and I did my best not to gasp. He grabbed me by a hip and thrust two fingers into me, forcing them in, even though it hurt. His impatient jerking motions eventually went deep, rough enough to satisfy him, and he continued to move them in and out for a few moments before withdrawing.

“Good.”

My insides burned from this handling, but I’d dealt with worse. I tried to stand, but one of his hands made contact with my lower back, staying me.

“Stay down.”

With one of his still-slick fingers, he prodded at my bottom hole, and I bit my lips together gripping my ankles to keep myself from falling or running. I wouldn’t get far, but even the beating it would earn me might be worth getting away from this.

He poked his way in maybe half an inch, and I gritted my teeth and held my breath.

Somewhere, a bell rang, interrupting. He stopped trying to force his way in and patted my back.

“Stand and turn around.”

I stood and turned back to him, my cheeks burning and murder in my heart.

“I think you’ll do just fine.”

Gee thanks. I’m flattered.

“See you soon.” He walked away, and I grimaced as the next man stopped in front of me, writing my number down before hurrying to where the bidding would take place.

The actual auction was exactly what I’d imagined. Fast, insulting. We were urged up onto a block, raising us above the onlookers, and ordered to turn. Age and educational background were announced, as though any man here was looking for the accounting skills of the woman in front of me, or the nursing expertise of the woman two behind me.

How much did these horrid men think I was worth? But rather than bidding money, everything was in a type of crypto I’d never heard of. There was no guessing how much we were worth in regular dollars.

When it was over, we were issued tunic-style dresses. Mine was a garish yellow.

I’d had difficulty following the actual auction, between the number of people buying, and the quick flicks of hands. There was no keeping track of who had won me. When I was taken outside and pushed into the back of an SUV, the new bindings on my wrists were already chafing.

As the door closed behind me, I tried to right myself on the seat without the use of my bound arms.

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