I notice her smile’s getting a bit brittle around the edges, but the increased bidding shows the club members are happy with the information. How did a multimillionaire’s daughter end up in a sex auction? She’s polished and playing well with the audience, but every muscle in her body is vibrating with the need to get off the stage, her eyes darting around the room, looking for the closest exit points.
The bidding narrows down to two men, an older silver-haired man, flaunting a cane with a silver top. He taps it regally every time he bids. The other bidder is younger, wearing his expensive suit like it’s a rag, ashing his cigar carelessly as the embers singe his trousers. He’s sniffing and wiping his nose frequently, so I’m guessing he indulged in some nose candy before the auction.
“I hear two hundred thousand from Mssr. Fournier,” the auctioneer says, “do I hear-”
I raise my hand. “Five hundred thousand Euros.”
A low buzz sweeps around the room as heads turn. Next to me, Dario is chuckling softly and I’d like to slap him in the balls. Ivy/Sloan is staring in my direction, though I dinna think she can see the audience with the spotlight shining in her eyes.
Mssr. Fournier is the older man, and he gives me one slitted-eyed glare before tapping his cane again. “Six hundred.”
The younger bidder is furious and clearly out of the running as he gulps down the rest of his drink bitterly.
“Seven hundred,” I call out.
“Seven hundred and fifty thousand Euros,” snaps Fournier.
I dinna have time for this shite.
“One million Euros.”
The auctioneer looks like he’s ready to offer himself to me, too. “A new record, gentlemen! One million Euros for a night with the lovely Ivy. Going once… going twice…”
Fournier irritably stands up and leaves the room.
“Sold!” Ivy/Sloan jumps a little as he taps his gavel. “For our successful bidders tonight, you may meet your date in the Library Room and continue your evening from there.” He winks at the audience and I think about plucking his eye out with the stiletto strapped to my ankle.
Dario turns to me with a grin, slapping my back. “Congratulations, asshole. I’ll leave you to go pay for your date.”
“You’re enjoyin’ this a little too much, mate,” I growl, and he laughs again.
Chapter Seven
In which Sloan is rewarded for "putting herself out there."
Ivy/Sloan…
What just happened?
A million Euros? That can’t be right. Someone just shelled out a million Euros forone night?Oh, my god, I’m not hot or kinky enough for that kind of bid to make sense. Suddenly, my biggest worry isn’t having sex with a stranger. What if he demands his money back?
Standing there under those lights already took everything I had. The feel of my flesh trying to crawl off my body while I heard the guttural laughter and the shouts from the audience. My stepfather always tried to make me feel like nothing, but this is worse. It’s like I’m no longer human, just a thing to entertain them for the night.
I’ve had a total of two boyfriends, for fuck’s sake! I remember thinking after my first time, “Is that all?” I tried to read articles about how to be better in bed, thinking I was the problem. The first time I tried something new, my boyfriend at the time got mad and accused me of trying to take over.
Am I really going to be able to do this? Not only sleep with a complete stranger but do… what was it, spreading bar things?
Hell.
What else did I agree to on that list? Am I a prostitute now?
Sex workers never get any judgment from me. They’re just doing their job, like everyone else. But how am I ever going to look at myself again without disgust?
You’re doing this because Nate needs you. Stop whining and play your part.
The stylist finishes touching me up and gives me an encouraging smile. “A million Euros!Ben fatton, well done. That is a record, you know.”
“Really?”
