Sold to Him

Knowing what I do now, I couldn’t have resisted her even if I tried.

Because it’s been more than a couple rolls in the hay. Yesterday morning before I left for the office, I invited her to have breakfast with me, this time on the rooftop terrace overlooking the city just the two of us.

“Oh my god, Grayson! This is beautiful,” she whispered, enjoying the view I take for granted every day. “This has to be the most perfect place to have breakfast. Look at the river!”

It was early. The sun rose over the city with a soft blush across the sky, threading the clouds with gold and amber. In the delicate light, the city looked brand new. Almost virginal. That was what I’d wanted Trina to see. So I took a chance that she was early riser and asked her to eat with me.

I’m glad I did.

While we ate, she devoured her meal as usual. Whipped cream smeared her lips before she licked it off. Maple syrup glistened on her soft fingers. For her, the pancakes were the perfect finger food. She rolled them between her fingers and dipped them into the bowl of syrup, then the whipped cream, and then slipped them between her lips. Completely innocent. Completely sexy.

I grew hard the second that first pancake touched her lips.

But I don’t just want to sleep with her. I’m obsessed with everything about the woman—her curves, her personality, the innocent way she sees the world. Her spark and vivacity when she talks about plants. How she’s taking care of her grandmother and little brother, caring and worried, and willing to sacrifice herself so that they can have a better life. There isn’t a mean bone in her body, and I love her all the more for it.

WTF? Love? I must be going fucking nuts. That’s the only explanation. And yet, it feels good because I care about the woman, and have been doing things I’ve never done before. For example, caught up in Trina’s story, I offered to send money to her family.

Trina looked shocked when I mentioned the money. Blushing, she stammered, “I’m sorry?”

Amused, I raised a dark eyebrow. “I hope I’m not being overbearing, but sweetheart, you know I can help. It’s no trouble. I’ve got plenty of what you’re lacking right now, so just tell me how much. I won’t take no for an answer.” I said this with finality so she knew I wasn’t kidding.

She’d stammered again, unable to compute. “I-I’m not sure,” she stammered. “It’s just … I mean ….”

In that moment, my heart pounded hard enough for me to feel it in my throat. A surge of protectiveness rose up in me. “It’s nothing,” I said roughly. “Take the money, pretty girl. It comes from a good place.”

Because shit, she’s been going it alone for so damn long. There was no way she was going to deal with all this hard stuff on her own again as long as I was concerned. I wanted to make her life easier, so that she could relax a bit, the stiffness in her shoulders dissipating.

After staring at me for a long time, she finally spoke in a murmur, her brown eyes wide. “Would five hundred be okay?” she asked, her cheeks flushing pink. She continued quickly, “I’ll pay you back as soon as I’m able.” It was obvious she fully expected me to withdraw my offer for some reason or other.

My laughter was instantaneous. She was so damn cute. Because shit, five hundred is nothing to a guy like me. Not even a drop in the bucket. Even less, like loose change you pick up on the pavement.

“Five hundred’s not enough, sweetheart. There’s three of you, and doesn’t Mickey need to visit the doctor as well? He has a bad cough, you said. Let’s make it fifty thousand.” Even that amount of money is nothing to me. Knight Investments makes five times that much in a lunch break.

Trina’s eyes went wide and she stammered, obviously on the verge of telling me that was too much money, but I wouldn’t take no for an answer. Because my girl needs help and I have the means to provide. Besides, it feels so good to take care of a sweet, giving girl who has no one else in the world.

But unfortunately, that girl’s about to be sold at auction to a group of hungry billionaires. Those assholes. My hackles raise again at the thought, a low growl coming from my chest. Because I want Trina all to myself. Not this stupid two-week set-up that have at the Billionaires Club. Not the rent and return business model the auction entails. I want more than that—I want her as mine for as long as these crazy feelings last, which I suspect, could be for a long while.