Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 26892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 26892 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 134(@200wpm)___ 108(@250wpm)___ 90(@300wpm)
She’s young. The thought flashes through my mind, unexpected and sharp. Probably barely mid-twenties, a fresh, untouched contrast to the cynical, weary predators hanging around this room. She’s far too innocent for a room full of wolves like me. And I should definitely have my head examined.
Fuck, she’s young.
And then my brain clears the bullshit away, and I actually look at her. I see the flush spreading across her collarbones. A slight tremor catches on her bottom lip as she forces a polite, gorgeous smile for the crowd. My eyes lock on the tight cinch of her waist and the flare of her hips beneath the green silk.
Her being too young dies right there, instantly replaced by heavy heat that pools straight to my cock. My grip on the wooden handle of the paddle tightens until my knuckles turn white. My gaze notices the pulsing at the base of her throat, and in a spilt second, my mind is made up.
I want her.
I want her writhing beneath me, her back arching against my chest, her dress ripped down the middle or shoved up around her waist.
I want to feel her hands buried in my hair, gasping my name into the quiet dark of my bedroom while I drive myself into her over and over again until she can’t remember her own name.
I want her on top of me, taking control, flush and breathless, her hair falling wildly around her while my grip on her hips anchors her down.
I want her from behind, bent over the arm of my leather sofa, my hand hooked firmly around her hip, biting her shoulder while I take her slow and deep.
The possibilities are endless. The sheer, filthy variety of ways I can break her composure and tear a scream from her pretty throat makes my blood run hot, thick, and demanding.
“We’ll start the bidding at ten thousand dollars!” the auctioneer announces, and fuck me, paddles lift instantly around the room.
“Fifteen thousand!”
“Twenty thousand from the gentleman in the front.” Gennie’s smile wavers, and her hands clasp nervously at her sides. She looks overwhelmed by the attention. Her eyes dart across the sea of faces, unaware that the real danger isn’t in the crowd. It’s standing at the back of the room, watching her like a hawk.
Never in my forty-four years of life have I ever bid on a human being. I find the entire concept archaic. I’m Gavin Rhodes. If I’ve wanted a woman, I pursued her or she came to me. I don’t participate in public spectacles.
“Thirty thousand!” someone calls from the right side of the room.
“Thirty-five,” some tech executive type says next.
“Gavin?” Nolan glances over at me, catching the lethal stillness that’s settled over my frame. I don’t answer him. Instead, I set my empty glass of scotch whisky down with a deliberate, heavy thunk. Then I raise my paddle straight into the air.
“One hundred thousand dollars.” My voice cuts through the chatter of the room, carrying authority of a man who is used to buying whatever the hell he wants. The entire ballroom goes dead silent. Gasps echo off the high ceilings, and heads snap in my direction.
Vik lets out a low whistle, and Nolan chuckles under his breath, raising a glass in my direction. Up on the stage, Gennie is frozen. Her wide, brilliant eyes sweep across the crowd until they land directly on me.
“One… one hundred thousand dollars to Mr. Gavin Rhodes!” the auctioneer fumbles, his mouth opening and closing. “Going once, going twice.” I never break eye contact with her. I let my gaze slowly drag down the length of her body, lingering on the slit of her dress, letting her see the possessive promise written across my face. I want her to know there’s no denying it now—she’s coming home with me. “Sold!” The gavel bangs down, echoing like a gunshot.
The room erupts into polite applause, but I don’t hear a single second of it. I slowly lower my paddle, a dangerous smile curving at the corner of my lips as Gennie takes a trembling breath.
Game on, beautiful, you’re mine now.
CHAPTER ONE
gennie
The harsh glow of my phone screen feels like a spotlight of my fears. It’s after two o’clock in the morning. My apartment is shrouded in silence except for the steady hum of the refrigerator and the frenzied beat of my heart racing inside my chest. I lie sprawled on my living room sofa, staring down at an email I have drafted. I’ve opened it three separate times over the course of the night.
To: info@anasfightforresearch.org
Subject: Urgent- Date Auction Cancellation
To Whom It May Concern,
An unexpected family emergency has emerged that requires me to travel out of town. As much as I hate to cancel, it’s something that I can’t postpone.
Please know this wasn’t an easy decision. I feel terrible for any inconvenience or disappoint this will cause.