Page 68 of Valentine’s Billionaire Auction

We had shared something amazing. At least, I thought it was amazing. The man had rocked my world. My body was his to control. I wondered if he felt the same, if last night meant as much to him as it did to me. Or was I just another name on his list?

I knew the answer and it was killing me. I knew what he thought. It was evident in his reaction after the deed had been done.

He had gotten up and left afterward like it meant nothing. No hesitation, no lingering glances, no soft words. Just gone, as if nothing had happened. It made me feel cheap. Nothing more than a pincushion.

I tried to shake these thoughts from my mind but they clung to me. My fingers nervously tugged at the edge of the blanket, twisting the fabric as I let out a deep sigh. How could I have been so naive? How could I not see the signs that were probably as clear as day to everyone else?

I buried my face in the pillow and groaned. It was ridiculous. Roman had shown me exactly who he was time and time again. One night of kindness didn’t erase the rest of it. I’d been stupid to think otherwise, even for a second. How was I going to last all six months when I couldn’t make it through the first week without jumping his bones?

I knew I should get up, wash off the remnants of last night, and face the day with whatever strength I could muster. But every motion felt monumental, weighed down by a mix of longing and dread. I couldn’t stop thinking of his hands, strong yet gentle. I didn’t want to want him. I wanted to be like him and just pretend it was no big deal.

Eventually, I summoned the will to rise. My legs swung over the side of the bed, where I sat and stared out the window for a few seconds. I needed to decide what I was going to do. Did I stay? I was committed to a contract, so running out with my head hung in shame didn’t really feel like an option.

Was I supposed to just ignore him? Roman was way too big to ignore, literally and metaphorically. Did they still sell chastity belts? If so, I needed to buy one and throw away the key.

I stood up, stretching the stiffness out of my muscles, and walked to the bathroom. I stared at my reflection in the mirror, searching for some sign of the strength I used to think I had. Instead, all I saw were the remnants of yesterday’s makeup.

I turned on the shower, cranking it up nice and hot. I wanted to melt away any reminders of him. I needed to rid myself of his smell. His touch. All of it.

As the shower heated up, the steam clouded over my reflection, mercifully obscuring the disappointment on my face. I stepped under the hot spray, letting it wash over me as if it could cleanse away not just the physical but also the emotional residue from last night. The water slid down my body. I closed my eyes, allowing the warmth to wash over me, hoping that when I opened them again I would feel like a new, confident woman.

Unfortunately, the shower wasn’t quite the renewal I had hoped for. I still felt a level of self-loathing that was new to me. I had plenty of things to hate about myself, but this was different. Last night, he had made me feel so beautiful. So wanted.

And I dropped my pants and opened my legs for him.

The self-recrimination was brutal, and yet, there was a part of me that was still clinging to the attraction that had driven me to him. I was going to drive myself crazy. The only way to get out of anything was to go straight through it. That’s what I was going to do.

“It’s going to be rocky, but I can still make this work.”

I wrapped a towel tightly around myself, and stepped out, determined to get dressed and face the day like nothing happened. If Roman could brush it off, so could I. He was probably already gone anyway. The mirror was still fogged over, and in a way, I was grateful for that. I wasn’t ready to face myself just yet.

I padded back into the bedroom, avoiding the bed where it had all happened. Instead, I walked into my closet to find something to wear. I looked at the fancy clothes the staff had hung up for me. I didn’t want to wear any of that. I wanted my comfortable clothes. It took a second to find my old, worn things, but I did. I dressed in jeans, a hoodie, and my old-school knock-off Uggs. It was the perfect outfit for lounging around the house.

“Please don’t be home,” I murmured before I opened my bedroom door.

I hated that I felt like I had to hide.

The sound of a loud commotion downstairs startled me out of my self-loathing spiral. A woman’s voice rang out—laughing, crying, yelling? I couldn’t tell if she was furious or ecstatic, but she was definitely loud.

“What the hell?”

Was he bringing a woman home? Oh hell no. I would drive one of his precious cars into the pool if he thought he could disrespect me like that.

I was about to rush out when I remembered my comfy clothes and makeup-free face. I did not want to meet one of his other women like this. Maybe it was silly to care about something like that but I did. So I paused in my open door, listening.

The woman was loud. I couldn’t make out what she was saying but clearly she was either really pissed or really excited. What if Roman was married? Oh shit. What if the woman of the house came home and learned I was here?

No, Kaira. Pump the brakes.

My writer brain was sweeping me away in its madness. The dark side of having a vivid imagination was jumping to the worst-case scenario when anything happened in my life.

Got a flat tire? It wasn’t a random nail. Someone let the air out so they could abduct me from the side of the road.

Lose a sock? Stolen by my long lost twin who wants to steal my identity.

Find a quarter? It’s probably rare and valuable and I’ll get stuck in the crossfire between two ruthless coin collectors.

Then again, a simple sneeze had purchased a night with Roman, gotten me fired, and resulted in me living in his house, freshly fucked within an inch of my life. So sometimes little things ended up being a big deal.