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“Noted. But someone will pay to fuck me, and then I won’t have to worry about it again. A win-win, isn’t it?”
“You could just fuck yourself, you know.” I gape at him, almost shocked at how brazen he is to speak to me like that. “Get a vibrator, lube it up, and insert it nice and slow. That pink little number you ordered from the shop should do the trick.” He takes a step forward and I meet his stare. I’m sick of him thinking he has the control and can play with me like this. His fingers lightly trail down my stomach and come to a stop, where he cups his hand between my legs. I suck in a breath, my eyes widening.
I hate him.
Hate how much he thinks he can have this.
Hate how much my body leans into him for more.
“It’s not enough,” I say, and my words come out shakier than I’d like them to. All of me is on fire. My core is pounding with heat.
He leans in again, and I can smell him. My body goes into desperate overdrive as I try to place a hand between us. But instead of pushing him away, it explores his hard pecs through his shirt.
“You could just fuck a stranger instead,” he says.
I want him. Not a stranger.
“You screen all these people, don’t you? All these potential buyers?” My hand trails down the eight-packabs I know are beneath the shirt and rests on his belt buckle. “It’s not like I would be given to some dirty old man?”What the fuck am I doing?I step back, trying to reel in whatever self-respect I can muster.
Dawson looks like he’s gasping for air in my absence. And he clears his throat as if he were under the same bizarre spell I’d been under.
I wrap my arms around myself. Dawson’s off-limits. I’m not going down that route.Again.
“You want to put an age limit on those who can bid?” he asks.
“Yes, very much so,” I confirm. I can’t imagine being in bed with someone my father’s age. Each to their own, but for me, no.
“Done.” He walks around to his chair. “Any other questions or requirements?”
I exhale what feels like my first breath since walking in here. “No.”
“Okay.” He presses a few buttons and the door opens, and the man who assisted me before appears. “Lance will take you to the photo room.”
“What for?”
His head drops to the side as he eyes me. “Do you expect people to buy you without seeing you first?”
I kind of hoped so.
“The answer is no. So go and get changed. The photographer is already waiting.” He waves me off and doesn’t look back up.
I feel like I’ve got whiplash. This mindfuckerywith Dawson has to end. Once I get what I want from him, I can go on my merry way and try for something normal with Kit.
I walk out with Lance and am taken to a white room. There are cameras and racks of familiar lingerie. A small lady approaches me, grabs my hand, and studies me from all angles. When she’s done, she drops my hand to my side and looks up at me.
“White. Innocent.” She nods, then points to the lingerie. “Go and get changed. Hair and makeup are in the back.” She waves me off, and suddenly, nerves flutter throughout my body.
Am I really doing this?
ShouldI be doing this?
But I do as she says.
I can’t back down.
If I do, Dawson will never let me try again. I promised I would do this for myself. And if I have to get on my knees and take some fucking vows for it, that’s what I’ll do. Nerves be damned.
Walking into the back room, a lady hands me a robe and tells me to undress and to come back and sit down. I do as requested and try not to show my nervousness with everything happening. I honestly thought I would have time to process the decision and not be thrown straight into it. But I guess that’s how Dawson rolls. And it may be a way to ensure I don’t back out.
