“Umm…” I swallow a lump in my throat and try to figure out what I set myself up for. “Did anyone bid on me?”
“Yes.” She grins, tightening her hold.
Excitement bubbles inside me. “Did I do all right?” I curl my toes, waiting for the answer.
“You did very well,” she assures me.
Her answer only leaves a void in my mind. “What does very well mean?” I wince, still not sure if I’m ready to find out.
Nina gives a mischievous smile. “How much would you imagine?”
Argh. I have no idea. I have a mental image of Nina laughing out loud when I give her whatever number I pull out of the air. I take a deep breath. “Ten…” I dare to dream. “No, fifty…thou…sand?” I wince again. Is that too much on top of the hundred thousand she said we’d start with? My tummy churns.
Her eyes are practically dancing. “What would you say if I told you the bids hit fifty thousand in the first three seconds?”
My jaw drops. “What?” My stomach tightens. Did I step into someone else’s life? There’s no way.
“The final bid was…are you ready for this?” She leans in, like she’s going to share a secret. “Seven hundred seventy-nine thousand dollars.”
The room swims in front of my eyes. “Oh God. I’m going to puke.”
“No-no. None of that.” She walks me over to the office chair. “Now, remember, the house will take its cut, but you’ll end up with something close to six hundred fifty thousand.”
I’m light-headed and still trying to keep my stomach from lurching. A minute ago, one hundred thousand seemed like a huge amount. Now that it’s the total the house is keeping while I get six times that, it doesn’t seem as much.
“Remember,” Nina warns, “you have to finish out your time in order to receive your money.”
“I understand.” I’m not sure if I’m shaking or we’re having a mild earthquake.
“The winner is handing over a large sum of money to take your virginity.” Sex 101. “This is not a date. Don’t expect dinner or hand holding or declarations of love.”
I nod. “I understand.” I’m not opposed to having sex, it just hasn’t happened.
“This suite will be available in case your benefactor prefers to sleep alone.” She tilts her head. “We get all kinds.”
“Okay.” The thought of having a man take a girl then immediately send her away seems so wrong. But then, if this was a date, instead of whatever this is, he might only get a kiss, and end up sleeping alone anyway. So, maybe not so wrong.
“You ready?” She gives me a concerned look. “We need to get going.”
I stand, willing my rubbery legs to move. The first step grounds me. “Like this?” I ask, wide-eyed, thinking about under-boob.
“Yes. This is who they bid on.” She reaches for the overnight bag she prepared.
“But I’m exposed.” I run my hands in front of my chest then wave them lower.
“Trust me, nobody will bat an eye,” she assures me. “You’re wearing more than what some women wear at the beach.”
I can’t argue that. “Okay.” I pick up the skirt, stepping forward as if I’m wearing weights on my feet instead of strappy, high heeled shoes.
She opens the door, holding it for me to exit, then she takes the lead. My heels sink into the plush carpet as I follow her down the hall. The cold air covers my bare butt, reminding me of what isn’t there.
The elevator doors open silently. We enter, and Nina hits the button to go down one floor. The elevator moves and a hollow grows in my throat.
Six hundred fifty thousand dollars. The amount is still going through my head. It’s some serious cash. Living like I do now, I could go for years without worrying about what tomorrow will bring. I just need to make it through tonight. Tomorrow will be easier.
“This is something most women do at some point in their lives,” Nina says, practically reading my mind.
I scrutinize myself in the mirrored walls. With the makeup, and the contouring, and the magic Millicent did on my hair, I hardly recognize myself. Not to mention the outfit. There’s more showing than not. I have a crazy image of a woman in bridal white going for her wedding night. Well, it’s not far from the truth, except for the actual wedding.
“I’m familiar with what happens.” I know the mechanics of it, anyway. I’m not exactly sure what I should do with him, or for him. I take a deep breath. “I just hope he isn’t…disappointed.”
The doors open, and I follow her out to the hall. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” This time when my heels sink into the carpet it’s more of an effort to move.
Considering the size of each suite, there aren’t very many of them per floor. She seems intent on the one at the end of the hall. Every step takes us closer, increasing the waves in my tummy. Nina pulls her phone from her pocket. “I’m not above saying you may be pleased with the winner,” she says with a wry smile.
Flipping the phone screen, she waves it in front of a black square. I hold my breath, waiting for something to happen. An eternity later, the latch clicks and turns the handle. Dread coats my throat. This is like the nightmare about having finals and you haven’t been to class in so long you don’t know where to find the building. You’re running down a never-ending hallway, naked. Once you find the room, the professor says you’re too late as he picks up his laptop bag.
Why did I just picture amber eyes burning through me? Because I had his gaze aimed directly at me every time I argued a point about cyber security? Because sometimes it seemed like I wasn’t wearing enough clothes? I tighten my hold on my skirt, take a deep, calming breath, and enter the suite. The door clicks closed behind me as my heart pounds.
The winner’s sitting at the desk, his back to me. The dread in my stomach is now bubbling up my throat as he shuts down his laptop. Short, dark hair, broad shoulders, and biceps that push the boundaries of the pullover he’s wearing. My skin prickles, and every nerve ending is on full alert. I draw in a trembling breath as I piece together what I’m seeing. A curtain of heat slaps the inside of my cheeks and drops over my body. I know the man behind the desk. He turns, leaning back in his chair, confirming my suspicion. The hazel eyes that have spent so much time going through my mind are staring back at me.
“Professor Reynolds…”
8
Chase
“Professor Reynolds,” she says, with a hint of wonder. She’s not shocked, or if she is she’s hiding it very well. Then again, Jasmine Rocha would take in what’s in front of her and analyze it to no end. Then she’d find a way to argue with me about it. That still doesn’t take away the breathlessness in her voice or the color in her cheeks.
“Not today, Jasmine.” No, I need to take that idea out of her head. I’m not a professor. I’m not a businessman. And I’m certainly not a man who’s managed to amass a fortune exploiting the system. “Today I paid a lot of money not to be Professor Reynolds.” I look my fill, from the bare shoulder, past the hint of cleavage, to the intriguing view of full, teardrop breasts. She ducks her head, swallowing hard. “I’m just Chase.”