Page 5 of Auctioned to the Agent
“Is that why you were there tonight?” I ask before I can stop myself. “For the auction?” The thought of Andrew bidding on a woman’s virginity sours my stomach, even though I guess that’s exactly what he did with me.
“No,” he says so firmly my gaze snaps back to his. “I was there to stop an idiot from tanking his career.”
“But you bid on me.”
“I did,” he confirms with a nod. “Or, well, I made the idiot bid on you for me. But I didn’t go there tonight intending to make a bid, let alone bring home a woman.”
“So why did you?” I ask hesitantly.
“I heard you.” Almost as if he’s in a trance, he reaches out and strokes his thumb along my jaw. “You have the voice of an angel…or a siren. I heard you, and I was immediately entranced.”
“Oh,” I manage, my breath stuttering in my lungs. Andrew tilts toward me slightly, and just as I think he’s about to close the distance between us, he blinks and pulls away, dropping his hand to the countertop.
I’ve barely had a moment to process the sudden change when he stands and says, “It’s late. Let’s get some rest, and we can talk about the rest in the morning.”
I get up and follow him out of the kitchen. He points out different rooms as we walk through the house. It’s a sprawling single-story ranch with three bedrooms. We stop at the door of one and Andrew motions for me to walk ahead of him inside.
“You can sleep here; there’s an ensuite through the door on your left with extra toothbrushes under the sink; closet is to the right,” he says, before looking me over. His eyes flash with heat as his gaze trails my legs, but it’s gone when he meets my eyes. “I’ll find you something more comfortable to sleep in.” He turns to leave but stops in the doorway. “I should have asked earlier, is there anyone you want to call?”
“I…” I hesitate as it only now dawns on me that I’d left my purse and cellphone in Craig’s glovebox at his insistence. I truly have nothing but the dress I’m wearing. “No,” I force out around a sudden lump in my throat. “I don’t have anyone to call.”
He nods and leaves. I walk into the bathroom and avoid my reflection in the mirror over the sink as I find a spare toothbrush and toothpaste and quickly clean my teeth. I use a washcloth to wipe away what’s left of my makeup. When I can’t avoid it any longer, I finally look in the mirror.
The girl staring back at me is someone I barely recognize. Only a few hours ago, I was doing my hair and makeup while dreaming of a future I’d naively believed within my grasp. What a fool I’ve been. Looking at my reflection now, I can see in my eyes that the shock has given way to a jaded, tired acceptance. My life has never been anything but one disappointment after another. I should have known better than to get my hopes up.
“Holly.” I jump at the sound of Andrew’s deep voice and spin to look at him standing in the open doorway of the bathroom. He reaches in and tosses a faded gray t-shirt on the counter. “This is the best I can do as something for you to sleep in. We can sort out more suitable options in the morning.”
“Thank you,” I say, fingering the soft fabric.
“I’ll leave you to it, then. I’ll just be waiting out here,” he says, and pulls the door closed.
I strip out of my dress quickly and slip the shirt over my head. The same scent I’d noticed in the car wraps around me, and I can’t help but tuck my nose into the collar and inhale deeply. Feeling more grounded than I have all evening, I open the bathroom door. Andrew is sitting on the bed, looking at this phone, but he stands and pockets it as I step into the room. His eyes darken as he sees me in his t-shirt. He's so much taller thanme, the shirt hits mid-thigh and covers more of my body than my dress did, but there’s something heated in his eyes, something more intense than any look he’s given me since we met, and it makes my stomach flip.
“Okay?” he asks.
“Y-yes, thank you.”
“Good. I put a bottle of water on the nightstand for you.” He steps closer and lifts a hand to trace the line of my jaw with his thumb, like he had in the kitchen. The air between us turns heavy and taut as I lock my gaze with his. My breath stalls in my throat, and without conscious thought, I sway closer and press into his touch. He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me into his solid, muscular body.
My life has been all about survival and staying out of my stepfather’s way as much as possible. I’ve never been with a man before, never dated or so much as even kissed one. Pressed against Andrew now, my body is overwhelmed with a swarm of unfamiliar feelings. Nerves, excitement, anticipation, and desire all meld together in a tidal wave of emotion. I’ve never wanted anything as badly as I want to feel Andrew’s lips against mine.
As if in answer to my thoughts, Andrew leans in slowly, and I instinctively understand that he is allowing me the chance to stop him or push him away. Instead, I bring my hands to his chest and fist his shirt to pull him closer. It seems to take forever, almost as if the entire world has slowed on its axis, but finally, his lips meet mine.
I’m unprepared for the effect the kiss has on me. He’s warm and soft as he presses into me, and a sigh escapes at the contact. His tongue glides against my lips, seeking entry, and I open for him, sparks dancing along my spine as his tongue dips caresses mine. I press tighter against him, wanting to feel every inch ofhis body against every inch of mine. Something hard presses into my stomach, and I realize with a jolt that it’s his erection. I moan into the kiss, and he wraps both arms tighter around my waist, and I loop my arms around his neck. Nothing but our clothes separate us, and I mentally curse even that small barrier. I want him. I want to feel his skin against mine as I surrender completely to his touch.
I don’t know how much time has passed when I feel Andrew slow the kiss and pull gently away.
“W-what’s wrong?” I ask as he takes a step back. “Why are you stopping? Don’t you want me?” My cheeks flush with embarrassment at my own question.
“I do want you,” he says, voice rougher than it had been. “But you don’t want me.” I open my mouth to protest, but he places a finger over my lips to stop me. “You might be attracted to me, and you might think you want me, but you didn’t choose to be here tonight, Holly. You’re here because you have no other choice.” He pulls me close again, so our bodies are pressed tightly together again and I can feel the evidence of his desire against my stomach.
“When I have you—and make no mistake that Iwillhave you—it’ll be because you’re desperate for me, that you can’t think straight, can’t think about anything but the feel of my skin on yours, and you can’t imagine being anywhere but here, with me. But not tonight.”
His words settle something anxious in me that I hadn’t even noticed until now. I do want him, but is part of that want rooted in obligation? Everything has happened so fast, I feel off kilter, unable to find my bearings. Gratitude and frustration wash over me in equal measure. The knowledge that Andrew did the rightthing in stopping us does nothing to ease the pulsing between my thighs or the tightness in my core.
He drops a kiss on my forehead that sends butterflies scattering in my stomach, then eases away. I nearly whimper at the loss of his heat pressed against me, but he keeps a hand at my lower back and guides me to the bed where he pulls back the covers and directs me to lie down.
The way he tucks me in should feel patronizing, like a parent putting a child to bed. Instead, the way he looks at me as he adjusts the blankets makes me feel safe, like I’m something precious, something important. It’s an unfamiliar feeling that makes my skin buzz and my heart thump in my chest.
