Page 7 of Filthy Twisted Devil

Around ten, I excuse myself, blaming an early call the next morning. Nobody questions it. I’m enough of a workaholic to take an early Saturday call.

Instead of going right up to my apartment, I take the elevator to the lobby and stroll outside. My body’s hot enough from the huge dinner and the whiskey that the cold feels pleasantly crisp, even without a coat. I force myself to walk longer than I want to, because I shouldn’t be contemplating the things I’m contemplating.

I shouldn’t be opening that invitation.

After a few laps around the nearby streets, I finally head back to the House of Cards. Once I walk into my apartment, I pour myself a finger of Twisted Devil. Never mind that I just took a walk to clear my head—I need this now.

I should go to sleep. Instead, I plop down on my couch and pull out my phone. The CamCuties notification is still there. I open it—it can’t hurt just to look at the poster image, right? It’s not like I’m going to really bid—I’m just not that man. I’m just curious, really.

The poster shows PrairieSmoke, her face hidden, her almost-naked curves now familiar to me. The late-afternoon sun illuminates the curves of her lower back, drawing my eye down to a small freckle.

My entire body goes still.

There are five small points at the edges of that freckle.

I’ve seen that birthmark before, when I was thirteen and my sister's best friend held very still while I tied her to a chair.

Eden.

All at once, it all comes into horrifying focus. PrairieSmoke is Eden Locke. Her stories about retail were from working at the Peppermint Press. She mostly wears her thick blonde hair back these days, but it matches the color from the screen.

Fuck, I spent six weeks watching her. Getting off to her. The woman who was supposed to be no one to me, a safe outlet for my sexual cravings, was never really a stranger.

Eden’s twenty-four. She’s broke in a new city. She’s my little sister’s best friend.

And in less than a minute, the auction to buy her virginity will go live.

I should close the tab and tell Brinley. Or tell Beau. Tell someone.

Instead, I click into the online auction. As I read the five other screen names, my jaw clenches tight. Rage burns through my veins at each ridiculous name. DirtyTalker69. What a fucking joke. I can’t let that asshole buy Eden’s virginity. I have a moral obligation to keep her from making a dangerous mistake.

If she met one of these guys in person, anything could happen. They could hurt her, or blackmail her, or worse. The only way I can keep that from happening is by winning the auction myself.

Which is exactly what I’m going to fucking do.

I stare at the timer in the corner of the screen, smiling grimly when the auction goes live.

3

EDEN

Iget back to Brinley's apartment with ten minutes to spare before the auction starts. Other than the pregnant woman, I'm probably the only person who ended the night not remotely tipsy. I was way too nervous about the auction to drink anything. Instead, I focused on refilling everyone's drinks, pretending it was just another party I was working.

It was the only way to fend off my increasing sense of panic. Did I make a gigantic mistake? Is this auction going to feel like the end of my life, or the beginning of it?

I slip off my shoes and head to my bedroom, quickly stripping off my nice Friendsgiving outfit in favor of a comfortable pair of cotton PJs printed with a horse print. I yank my hair back into a messy ponytail. If only the bidders could see me now, dressed like the no-frills country girl I am instead of the glamorous, confident, sexy camgirl I pretend to be.

Sliding into my desk chair, I open my laptop and navigate to the seller dashboard. Four of the bidders have already signed into the program and started chatting.

Roughandready8

Who’s ready to rumble, boys?

MrBigBigBig

I’ve got a good feeling about my odds.

TomHardyLookalike