Chapter Ten
Rosie
I lay back on Moose’s bed in a puddle of desperation trying to breathe in the last of his masculine musk. I’m not sure what just happened, but I need that man… badly.
Never in my life did I think a spanking could be so erotic, but the way each hard spank vibrated through me, I could’ve come. How is that possible? Suddenly, I’m desperate to hear of all the naughty things I’ve done, and I want to be punished for them over and over again.
Honestly, what I really need is all three of them crawling on top of me, making demands, growling my name. The thought of getting on my knees for the guys and feeling their come all over me is going to be something I think about for years… maybe forever. Though, in the fantasy I replay in my head, I’ll picture Moose there with us, spanking me as I do the filthy things that drives him mad.
A fantasy is probably the most realistic conclusion since there’s no way that man could play well with others. Not like that. He’s big, grumpy, and he’s got a streak of jealousy running through him that I’m not sure can be tamed.
I shake my head and refocus on reality. The money needs to be my one and only thought right now. I can’t keep getting distracted by the guys. There’s three hundred grand on the line.
Three hundred grand.
That’s so much money. It’s more money than I’ve ever seen. All I have to do is show up, let the sheriff fuck me, and go home a hell of a lot richer. It’s the easiest money I’ll ever make, right?
I need to talk to Jen. It’s getting late, but she’s left like four thousand concerning texts, so I know she’ll welcome my call.
She answers on the first ring. “Babe!” Her voice is strained but still comforting to hear. “Where the hell are you? Your mom and I have been worried sick.”
Mom . Shoot. I send her a text as I talk, letting her know I’m okay. It’s only been two days but most everyone in my life is a worrier, and my mom might be the queen. I should’ve thought of that.
“Right, I’m on it. Sorry. I… I’m with Owen. He and a few of his friends. They’re… trying to persuade me from doing the Fantasy Driver thing.”
“Oh shit! Is it a sexual sort of persuasion?” she says, her interest peaked. “Please tell me these friends are the muscular, lumberjack type.”
I can’t help but smile. “They’re something.”
“So, why didn’t you call me back then? Tell me you were too busy playing doctor for the last couple days and the loss of fluids made you delirious.”
I laugh under my breath, desperate to tell her every detail, but I hold back. I’m not entirely sure why. Jen would wholeheartedly welcome a story about me falling for Owen and his best friends. “Nope. Just trying to decide where I’m going to spend all this Fantasy Driver money.”
She huffs out an exhausted breath as though she’s tired of my nonsense. “I think you should drop the Fantasy Driver thing, babe. When we thought you went missing your mom and I did some digging.”
I sit up from bed and push my hair back away from my face. “What kind of digging?”
She clears her throat. “You can’t be mad.”
“Okay… why would I be mad?”
“Well… your mom and I sort of, kind of, totally hacked your Fantasy Driver account.”
“ What? How does my mom know about the website?” My mouth is so dry all the sudden.
“I told her.” Jen heightens her tone at the end of her sentence as though she’s afraid of my response. “I know, I know. I’m a bitch, but she was scared, I was scared, Owen wasn’t answering his phone, the coffee shop said you never showed up for work, and the police wouldn’t help us, so I had to do something!”
I let out a heavy sigh as I knead the back of my neck. “Okay, and what did you do with the account?”
“Well, I found the guy who won your bid, and I cross-referenced that with other girls on his friends list over the past few years. There’s one girl in particular who stood out because the news reported her missing nearly a year ago.”
My heart squeezes. “Okay, so a girl went missing. It’s sad, but girls go missing all the time. What does that have to do with Fantasy Driver? ”
I can almost hear her eyes roll. “I don’t know yet, but I’ve got the IT guy at work trying to hack this cowboy guy’s account. His was harder to get into. You really need a better password.”
“What are you doing?” I snap. “You’re insane! That’s illegal,” I sigh, “and I’m fine. Really.” I’m not sure what I expected from this call, but it wasn’t more resistance. “You can stop investigating. I’m safe. That was the point, right?”
“I mean,” her voice lowers, “I know you’re saying your fine, but I’ve got a bad feeling about this. The missing girl was on the top of his friend list. That probably means they talked a lot. I’ll know more when I get into his acco—”
“Stop!”
Silence ensues for a long moment, and I feel kind of bad that I snapped, but this is getting out of control. I’m a grown woman. If I want to sell my virginity, I can. I don’t owe any explanations to anyone, and I’m not sure why no one understands that.
Jen clears her throat. “I’m sorry. It’s just weird, Rosie. Don’t you think?”
“The website does background checks. I’m safe.” I almost tell her that I know he’s not going to hurt me because he’s the sheriff, but I signed a privacy notice that would make me liable for astronomical fees should I break it. “Thank you for caring, but I’m going to be okay. I promise you. Three hundred thousand is so much money. I—”
“Won’t do much if you’re dead.” She sighs. “Okay, I’ll stop now.”
“I love you. I know you’re worried. I promise I’ll check in when all this is over, okay?”
She hums under her breath. “Okay. Love you too.”
We disconnect the line, but I get the feeling she won’t be stopping the guy in her IT department from hacking the sheriff’s account, which is an invasion of privacy I’m not sure I can forgive.
I stare back up at the fan whirring above me, trying to think of something other than the swirl of drama that is currently my life. I’m trying for a vision of the beach with lapping waves, warm sunny shores, and the scent of flowers and suntan lotion in the air. Instead, my brain redirects to what life could be like with the guys.
Would we sleep in one bed? Would I shuffle between the three of them? Would we always mess around the way we did tonight? Would all three of them line up and come all over me? Would they prefer to take turns with me privately? Would we commit to each other in a ceremony overlooking the mountains, live together quietly in this big farmhouse, and never tell another soul about the dirty things we’re doing?
I imagine whatever we made work would be beautiful. Then again, reality is a hell of a lot different than fantasies. I can dream up all kinds of fun scenarios about what life would be like with all three men at my side, but I don’t have a lot of experience with relationships, and I’d most likely mess it all up. Besides that, there are a ton of complicated emotions at play in polyamory. Everything from the social stigma to the reality of time management.
I can’t get lost in the fantasy of Barbie’s Dreamhouse. I need to stay focused on the money. The money can’t get jealous and run away. The money isn’t complicated. It doesn’t need anything. The money will secure my future. It’ll give me power over my own decisions and my life. Besides, I can’t afford the thirty percent penalty. I don’t do math, but I think that’s around a hundred grand. When I was signing the contract, the idea made sense. It’s a safety net for both parties. Should the bidder back out, he owes me thirty percent of the bid total, considering he wasted my time and removed the opportunity for other bidders. Should I back out, I owe him thirty percent. This keeps both parties honest.
I drag in a deep breath and let it out slowly. I have to show up to this appointment. I have to do what I said I’d do.
It’s getting late. My knee is aching, but if I escape tonight, I can call for a rideshare, get a good night’s sleep, clean up, and be ready for tomorrow evening without issue.
Closing my eyes I suck in a deep breath and let it out slowly. I’m going through with this, and that’s my final decision.