Page 7 of Forgive Me, Father

Mine.

My stomach churns again. I shouldn’t be doing this, but I’m not going to back out. I can’t. Olivia needs me. She may not need me in the way that I need her, but there was no way I was going to be able to stay away. To not do everything in my power to keep her safe.

I sip my whiskey as I wait.

A countdown flashes on the screen, and then the auction begins. The numbers start climbing quickly, and I watch, my jaw clenched tightly as strangers talk about her like she’s an object. Like she’s a prize to be won, used, and discarded.

User342: I can’t wait to wreck her. She looks so innocent.

BigDick77: What’s her limit? Ass up for grabs too?

MonsterMeat69: Bet I make her cry when I tear her up.

I feel each comment like a punch to the gut, and every single one fuels my anger, morphing it into something hot and dangerous. It’s rage burning through me, now. These so-called men, these fucking monsters, talking about her like she’s a piece of meat. My hands shake as I type in my first bid. I don’t care about the cost. I don’t care about the line I’m crossing. I don’t care about my own personal motivations for being here. I care about her. About keeping her away from these assholes.

The numbers jump again. I counter. Back and forth, the bids climb, reaching an eye watering amount of money. My heart is a war drum in my chest, my palms damp with sweat. I’m going to spend every cent I have on her.

Because Olivia’s mine. Mine to protect. Mine to save. Mine to—

NO. I shut down the thought, focusing on the screen. The bidding war rages on, and I’m all in. Whatever it takes. Whatever the cost, Olivia is worth it.

The pace of the bidding slows down, and several users drop out entirely. The increments are smaller now. A clock appears in the top right corner of the screen and begins counting down from five minutes. I bid again. It’s nearly everything I have, but I don’t care.

Three minutes left.

Two.

My heart hammers in my chest, a relentless drumbeat that pulses through my body. Another bid comes in, and I wait, watching the clock.

“Lord, if this is wrong, stop me,” I whisper, a final prayer as the last seconds count down. “But if it’s not, if this is your will, be with me now.”

With seconds remaining, I place one last bid.

The clock hits zero, and the auction closes. It’s over.

The screen refreshes.

Congratulations! You’ve won!

I stare at the gold letters that pop up on my screen. My breath leaves me in a rush, relief flooding through me, so intense and immediate that I can’t move for several seconds. I sag back in the chair, rubbing a hand over my face. I did it. She’s safe. She’ll have the money she needs without having to give such a precious part of herself to a stranger. To a man who doesn’t love and cherish her the way she deserves.

A private message pops up on my screen, confirming my room number and telling me my “prize” will be here shortly. I close my eyes, drawing in a deep breath. My prize. My angel. Olivia. Here, alone in this beautiful hotel room, with me.

I should leave. I should write her a note telling her she’s free to go, the money is hers, and leave.

But I don’t.

Because the thought of her here in this room with me has me instantly hard, my balls drawing up painfully, heat simmering in my gut. I’m aching. My cock is straining against the confines of my jeans. I shift in my seat, palming my erection.This isn’t about sex, I remind myself.This is about keeping an innocent young woman safe. It’s about protecting a member of my church.

My dick doesn’t get the message, still flying at full mast.

Because I’m still thinking about Olivia joining me in this hotel suite. That we’ll be alone with a massive king-sized bed and complete privacy.

I stand up, pacing to the window again. The city sprawls out beneath me, and I try to distract myself by studying the steel and glass architecture, the glowing lights, the flash of billboards. When that doesn’t work, I try to think of anything that might distract me from how I’m feeling right now.

Because as much as I want Olivia, I don’t have any indication that she wants me. And letting myself get worked up over what I want without any consideration for her makes me just as bad as those mouth breathers in the auction’s chat.

But it’s no use. No matter what I do, my mind is full of Olivia. Her smile. Her laugh. The way her eyes light up when she talks about something that matters to her. The way she frowns when she’s concentrating.

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