Chapter 17
Chapter Seventeen
Quinn
Itook dinner in my room with Aven, Jim, King, and Frankie.
Part of the reason was so that we could ensure no one slipped anything dangerous into my dinner, but the other part was so that we could discuss my plan and the myriad risks associated with it.
Surprisingly, no one bitched at me for coming up with something on my own. Not even Aven.
But now, I’m alone. As I prepare to auction myself to the man who wants to kill me, there is no one here to save me.
Sure, Aven is directly across the hall, but he won’t have time to rush into the room and prevent my demise if the winner pulls out a knife and decides to field dress me on the bed.
Knowing this, Frankie took a moment to teach me a few self-defense moves.
She even gave me a knife that belonged to Kindra.
I test its heft in my hand before I tuck it under the mattress.
“Are you ready to do this?” Aven says through the speakers, and his voice comforts me. He’s here, even if he’s not.
“Almost,” I say. “I need to change into something a little more alluring if I want to get any bids.”
“You’d get bids if you wore a shower curtain,” he mutters, and I smile.
With shaking hands, I pull a see-through babydoll teddy from my bag and slip it over my body. The emerald fabric makes my eyes pop.
“Ach, don’t wear my favorite color, lass,” he whispers, and I realize he doesn’t know his mic is still hot. “This is bloody torture.”
I smirk to myself and glance at the clock. It’s a quarter till six, meaning I still have fifteen minutes to fuck with him. Pretending I’m oblivious to his grunts and groans, I keep going.
“Should I go with these?” I ask myself as I raise a pair of six-inch black heels. “Hmm . . . maybe a kitten heel would be better?” I pluck a shoe with a shorter heel from the small assortment I brought.
“Yes, anything but those stilettos,” he mumbles overhead.
I bite my cheek to stave off the smile as I lift the shoes with the break-neck heels. “Yeah, definitely these.”
He lets out a groan. “You’re killing me.”
I sit on the edge of the bed and fasten the straps around my ankles, all while he laments about how miserable I make him.
For the following ten minutes, I practice poses and all of those glorious little sounds that drive men crazy.
It’s no different from an actress rehearsing her lines before a take, and my lucky audience member certainly appears to enjoy bearing witness to last looks.
It's all fun and games until I glance at the clock and realize we’re about to go live. Sweat collects on my palms and forehead. Shows don’t usually make me this nervous, but I’ve never put myself up for auction before. What if Desmond actually bids and wins?
Or worse . . . what if no one bids at all?
I think I’d rather be murdered and remembered fondly than be alive to realize that I won’t be remembered at all.
That I’m unwanted. That the entire reason I’m a cam girl is because I crave the feeling of being loved that was taken from me when my mother abandoned me at an amusement park almost twenty years ago.
Jesus Christ, I am seriously overpaying my therapist.
“Your mother didn’t abandon you,” I whisper to myself. “Something happened that night.”
And when I get this money, I’ll use it to find her and tell her that I forgive her for everything.
“Everything okay?” Aven asks through the speakers.
I shove down the real emotion and force the fake emotion onto my face. With a smile, I look toward the ceiling. “Just peachy. Ready to start whenever you guys are.”
“Jim and King just called. They’ll cut the feed to all rooms but mine once the auction is won. If at any point you want this to stop, you just need to say the safeword.”
“Who the fuck picked pineapple?”
“It’s a long and very weird story. I’ll tell you all about it later.”
“If there’s a later,” I say with a shudder.
“There will be, lass.” There’s a pause before he says, “I won’t let anything happen to you.”
The weight on my chest doesn’t lighten. I should feel safe, so why don’t I?
“Okay,” I say. “I’m ready.”
The light on the camera above the television turns red, and the screen fills with a shot of me right now, reclining on the bed. I give the camera a seductive wave and sit up, then scoot to the edge of the bed so that the viewers get a better angle of my cleavage.
“Hello again, you dirty perverts. Last night was a lot of fun, but tonight, I’d like to spend more time with one of you.
In fact, I’d love it if we could hang out all night.
” I nibble my lip and giggle. Is it obnoxious?
Yes. But for some strange reason, men love a woman without a thought in her fucking head, and I’m in the business of giving them what they want.
“I can’t be expected to choose just one of you, though, so Jim has been kind enough to allow me to auction off my evening.
Best of all, all proceeds will go to local animal shelters, so you’re supporting a good cause. ”
This was initially a sore spot for me. I wanted the proceeds for myself. After all, I’m the one putting my life on the line and my legs in the air. Then Jim showed me videos of some of the animals they’ve saved, and I’m a sucker, so I caved.
I uncross my legs and cross them again, giving the viewers a classy flash of what they want. “The bidding is simple. We’ll start off at five hundred and move in increments of the same. If you want to put in your bid, simply call the number on your screen.”
A phone number glitters to life at the bottom of the television.
All I need now is a rotating display featuring gaudy sweaters, and I’m fucking QVC.
For just the low, low price of five hundred dollars, you too could spend the night thrusting your dick between Quinn Parker’s legs.
But wait, there’s more! Call now, and she’ll even let you fuck her face!
God, what have I become?
The number at the top of the screen shifts from zero to five hundred, and the shame recedes. Money may not buy happiness, but it makes me forget I care faster than a Valium on an empty stomach. And this isn’t even my money!
Then I notice the names on the screen. They’re supposed to be secret so that no one can tell who’s bidding, but with tags like Ice Man and Fashionista, it’s pretty obvious who’s fighting for my platinum pussy.
Still, that doesn’t stop the excitement from rising as the ticker rolls toward two grand.
Unfortunately, that’s where it stalls. Worst of all?
I haven’t seen anyone who could be Desmond.
The bids are limited to fifteen minutes, so I need to get them going again.
I change positions and lie back so that I’m draped across the bottom of the bed.
I arch my lower back and “stretch” as I sigh as sweetly as I can.
“This bed is just too big for me. Do you know how hard it is to sleep all alone? Can you imagine just how badly I long for someone to share it with?” I place my finger into my mouth and suck. “I can almost taste how much fun we’ll have together.”
Another brief bidding war breaks out, but the ticker stops again when it reaches five grand.
Not even my poses and pouting can push the number any higher.
I can only hope this is like eBay, and all the serious bidders are waiting to snipe.
At least a few more contenders have joined the fray.
Fashionista—Eve and the girls, I assume—dropped out around three thousand, but “Ice Man” is still beating out newcomers Dark Knight and Gravedigger.
Could Gravedigger be Nathaniel Graves, aka Desmond, aka the creepy guy from the pool? It makes the most sense. But if that’s the case, Ice Pick needs to back off and let him take it.
Minutes tick down as I writhe on the bed and try to entice more bids, but no matter how sweetly I speak, no matter where I let my fingers wander, the ticker doesn’t move. Ice Man remains the high bid.
“Come on, boys,” I plead. “Do me for the animals! Whoops! I mean, do it for the animals. Five grand isn’t enough to help that many homeless pets. Show me just how badly you want this.”
I spread my legs and smack my pussy with a moan, and the number jumps a few more times. I’m more than pleased to see the total climb to ten grand, but when I see that Ice Man is still in the lead, I want to scream. What is he doing? He has to let Desmond win!
As we rush headlong into the last thirty seconds of the auction, I’ve all but given up hope.
Then the ticker shifts once more, and Gravedigger finally takes the top spot.
My fingers unclench from the comforter, and I breathe a sigh of relief.
One way or another, this part of the torture is about to end.
Either I’ll finally put an end to my stalker, or I’ll spend an evening living out my BookTok fantasies with a murderer.
Then the ticker rolls over once more in the last second of the auction. It seems we had a sniper after all, and it’s none other than Green Guy.
Confetti sprays on the screen, and the CGI bits of ticker tape briefly obscure me from view.
I take the momentary interruption to compose myself and school my face.
I don’t know how to feel. Rather, I don’t feel how I should feel.
This outcome should have left me disappointed and frustrated, but it’s excited me instead.
The devil you know is better than the devil you don’t know, and I happened to be very intrigued by my little green friend the other night.
No, I’d say this isn’t the worst outcome, though Aven, Jim, and King will probably disagree.
The confetti fades, and I’m back on the screen in all my sultry glory. I smile at the camera and lean forward. “I just want to say thank you to everyone who participated, and to the winner of the auction, I’ll see you soon.”
I wiggle my fingers, and the camera shuts off. I flop back on the bed with a groan.
The phone on the bedside table begins ringing, so I scoot backward and yank the receiver to my ear.
“Terribly sorry that this hasn’t gone to plan,” Jim says into my ear. He doesn’t even give me a chance to greet him before launching into an explanation. “Our final bidder was very . . . adamant. We tried to dissuade him, but he seemed to want an evening with you very badly.”
“This could work in our favor. Men tend to want something more when they’ve been denied it. This might force Desmond to make a move.”
Jim sighs into the phone. “Yes, well, for your sake, I hope his desire doesn’t overwhelm him and force him to act.”
“Wouldn’t that be ideal?”
“For us? Yes. But despite what you believe, your safety is important to us. We don’t want any harm to befall you.”
Because I’m a Carter . . .
“You’re important to someone who is important to me, and I refuse to let harm come to you.
” Fabric shuffles on the other end of the line, and someone says something to Jim.
It’s a male voice, but I can’t make out the words, though I hear the lilt of an accent.
It must be King. “I’ve just been informed that your guest is on his way to your room, but he’s coming by here first. Try to relax and enjoy your evening, and remember that you’ll have complete privacy from prying eyes. ”
“Wait!” I shout before he can hang up. “Aven will be watching, won’t he? I get that we don’t think this guy is Desmond, but that doesn’t mean I’m not at risk.”
“Oh, yes. Aven will be paying very close attention,” Jim grumbles before the line disconnects.
I set the receiver back in its cradle as Jim’s words linger in my head. Because you’re important to someone who is important to—
A knock on the door pulls me out of my thoughts. I stand and smooth the front of my teddy, then head for the door. No matter what happens tonight, I trust Aven will keep me safe. He hasn’t let me down yet.