Auctioned to Him Book 8

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Auctioned to Him Book 8 Page 18

by Charlotte Byrd


  My hands grow cold when I hear that. No. This is not the end for me. I need to do something. I need to save myself and my baby. No matter what.

  “The cops are going to be here any minute,” I finally say.

  “No, they’re not. They have no idea that I’m here. They’re looking for me, but they don’t know where I could be.”

  He’s right, of course. Shit. Okay, think, Ellie. Think.

  “There’s no point, Ellie,” Blake says as if he can read my mind. “There’s nothing you can do.”

  No, he’s wrong, I say to myself. He didn’t think I could record this whole conversation and here I am doing it. No, there’s a lot I can do. I just have to think of it first. And while I do, I have to make him talk.

  “Can I ask you something, Blake? What happened between you and Aiden?”

  Blake turns around. The expression on his face tells me that he never expected that question, but he’s pleasantly surprised.

  “I’m going to tell you the truth,” he says after a moment. “I mean, nothing else really matters now, right?”

  I wait.

  “I’ve always been jealous of Aiden. He was one of my closest friends at Yale. And I always loved him. But he had things easier than I did. And I hated him for it at the same time.”

  Okay, I say to myself. Just keep him talking until you figure something out.

  “Why?” I ask.

  “Well, he wasn’t rich like me. My parents had these large, overgrown, ridiculous houses with housekeepers and staff. But the thing is that when you’re a little kid, you don’t care about any of that. You just want your parents.”

  “And you didn’t have that?”

  “Nope. My parents just had each other. They spent all their time traveling and they always left me with grandparents, nannies, or whoever.”

  “I’m sorry about that,” I say. I mean it as a lie but it’s not really one. I am actually sorry. It’s little shit like this that really throws people off and ruins their childhoods. And then they take their broken childhoods out on other people. Like Aiden and me. Fuck his parents!

  “I wanted you from the first time I saw you,” Blake says. “At the auction. But of course, Aiden got to you first. And I was his friend so I had to go along with it. Do you know how much I hated that?”

  “No, not really,” I say.

  “Aiden hated his parents. He never thought they loved him, but he didn’t know how good he had it. Just like with you. He’s such an asshole. What the hell do you see in him, Ellie?”

  I shrug. I don’t really know how to respond, but luckily he doesn’t wait for the answer.

  “I was so happy to get his job. I finally got something that I deserved. But then they took that away from me. All because the stock price started to drop. I tried to implement his advertising strategy but I didn’t know how. And then you two got together again. So, what it did it all matter?”

  He is glossing over big swaths of what had happened between us, but I don’t dare bring that up. I’m putting my own plan into motion.

  “Blake, please let me go. I’m pregnant. Please. I won’t tell anyone that you were here. But please, just let me go.”

  “You’re pregnant?”

  “It just happened. It was an accident.”

  “And you’re keeping it?”

  “I don’t know yet,” I lie. I don’t really know what answer is going to make all of this worse for me.

  “Does Aiden know?”

  “Aiden is…dead.” The word just escapes my lips all of a sudden. It’s not planned. It just sort of slips out. Maybe if he thought that Aiden was dead then he would leave me alone? Maybe then he wouldn’t have anyone to be jealous of?

  “Blake, I won’t say anything about you being here. But you have to go. The cops are looking for you. Just go away. Drive away as far as possible from New York as you can. Go to Mexico. Start over again on some beach.”

  I talk and slowly inch my way toward the utensils drawer at the center of the island. When he casts his eyes down to the floor, I act fast. I open the drawer and grab a knife. But within seconds, Blake is next to me. He tries to grab the knife out of my hand. We start to wrestle. As I push back on him, I see that he left the gun on the kitchen island and I lean against him and swat the gun away. It flies across the room, giving me at least some sort of shot at living through this.

  Blake slams my hand onto the counter, knocking the knife out of it. Then he presses his hands around my throat and starts to squeeze. My airway is completely blocked. I can’t breathe in or out. I don’t have much time. My hands are free and I feel around for something to grab. When I find it, I wrap my fingers around it and plunge it into his throat. Blood squirts everywhere, covering my face with a thick gooey substance. He lets go of my throat and I collapse onto the floor. It takes me a few moments to catch my breath. When I finally do, I hear a scary gurgling sound coming from somewhere nearby. I throw up and everything turns to black.

  Epilogue - Ellie

  I wake up in a hospital bed with bright lights above me.

  “You’re awake,” Brie says, leaning over me. “You’re okay.”

  I nod, trying to understand where I am. Brie briefs me. Blake had picked a lock to my apartment. I had stabbed him in the neck with a ballpoint pen. He had bled out while I threw up and passed out next to him. A next door neighbor had heard the commotion and called the police. When they got there, they found us and listened to the recording that I had made with my phone. All of this seems about right.

  “How’s Aiden?” I ask.

  Brie helps me up and shows me to his room, which is five stories up. I sit next to him on the bed and take his hand in mine.

  “Everything’s going to be okay now, honey,” I whisper with tears running down my face. “I love you.”

  The End for Now

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  Indebted (Book 1)

  When 25 yr. old waitress, Brielle, receives a mysterious check for $250,000, she uses the money to pay for her mother's very expensive cancer treatment, saving her life.

  Two years later, she is called to pay back her debt. All she has to do is travel to an isolated mansion and work for one year as a personal assistant to an arrogant asshole whom she hates.

  Wyatt Wild is a gorgeous alpha billionaire playboy who is not used to girls saying no to him. He has bedded models, actresses and socialites and then a waitress from some crappy roadside cafe dares to reject him. Who does she think she is?

  Wyatt always gets what he wants and his desires focus on the innocent and stubborn Brielle. Neither give in easily and they quickly get locked in a game of seduction.

  **WARNING: Steamy scenes, NO Cheating, HEA!

  Chapter 1 - Wyatt

  I wanted to fuck her the first time I saw her. She wasn’t my type. Not at all. A little plump with messy, brown hair and a sweaty forehead from taking too many orders and delivering food to strangers who left her fifty cent tips.

  She was dressed in a plain white t-shirt and ratty jeans. The jeans dragged a bit on the floor and the holes were definitely not made by a manufacturer. No respectable girl I knew would ever wear something like that, and that made me wan
t her even more.

  Her jeans were tight at the waist, and she adjusted them periodically. Pulling them up over her hips while pulling down her shirt. She was trying to hide her figure, as if she was embarrassed by her gorgeous thighs, hips, and breasts. Contemporary society is all fucked up. This girl’s –this woman’s body, was what every man wants. Every straight man of every race, ethnicity, and creed. A tiny waist, shapely hips and legs, and breasts big enough to grab on to. Despite that, all the women’s magazines try to do is to convince them that they’re too fat because they’re not shaped like 12-year-old boys!

  The name tag on her shirt said, ‘Brielle,’ which was a fancy French name to have for a girl who worked at a crappy roadside diner in the middle of the workday. It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this was her full-time job. I would be surprised if she worked here to get through school. There wasn’t a college for a hundred miles in any direction.

  No, this Brielle was all wrong for me, and the worst part was that she didn’t have any money!

  I don’t like girls without money. It’s not because I’m shallow. It’s because I’m practical. I don’t fuck girls without money, because it gets too complicated. It’s much more likely to make things more complicated. Girls without money feel taken advantage of. They want to see me more. They think that a one night stand is unreasonable, and if it goes past one or two nights then they want me to save them. Rescue them from their pathetic little lives. But I’m not a prince. I’m not a white knight either. I don’t have it in me, even though I do own a white horse that I love to ride.

  I don’t like to rescue girls. I don’t like needy girls. No, the girls I fuck have to have their own careers – a starring role in a TV show, a signed contract with a prominent modeling agency, or at the very least, a reasonably-sized trust fund with one or two million from mommy and daddy. Oh hell, who are we kidding? It’s always from daddy.

  I established these rules long ago, and I abide by them religiously. They are there to keep both of us safe. To make sure that we both have fun, but not too much. I don’t want the girls I fuck to have expectations about me. Expectations that I will never live up to.

  And now, walking into this café and seeing Brielle, I’m ready to toss them out of the window. I want her. I want to put my throbbing cock in her wet pussy and pull her hair until she moans.

  I get hard in anticipation as I watch her take an order from an old trucker at the next table.

  “Hey, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Brielle says, pushing his hand away from her ass.

  I was too focused on her breasts that I hadn’t even noticed the trucker’s itchy hand reach out and grab her ass.

  “Oh, I’m so sorry,” he says sarcastically and laughs to his friend.

  “Not as sorry as you’re going to be,” she says, grabbing his uneaten plate of food.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “I don’t know where you think you are, but this isn’t that kind of establishment. You can’t just go around touching women inappropriately here. And you’d better get the hell out.”

  “But I didn’t finish eating,” the trucker stands up dumbfounded. He reaches out for his plate, but she moves it away from him.

  “You’re done,” she says with the kind of determination in her voice that makes me ever more hard. “Please leave,” Brielle says. “And don’t come back.”

  “I’d like to see your manager, you little cunt. You’re going to get fired.”

  “I’m the manager here. Now, get the fuck out!”

  I get out of the booth and stand next to her. I’m thankful for my loose fitting jeans.

  “You heard her, sir,” I say. “The lady would like you to leave. So please leave.”

  People at the next booths start to clap and cheer, and my friends join in. The trucker and his friend curse her out, but head towards the door.

  “You’re a real cunt. You know that? You’re going to be sorry for this!”

  I’m standing right next to her and, though, she’s trying to stay strong, I can see that she’s really shaken. Her chest is flushed, and the trucker’s plate is rattling slightly in her hand.

  “That was really impressive,” I say.

  She turns to me.

  “I’m probably going to get fired over it.”

  “I thought you were the manager?”

  “No,” she shakes her head and starts to gather the plates and cutlery from the trucker’s booth. “The manager’s coming in later tonight. I’m just the waitress.”

  “Well, I don’t see why you’d get fired. He had no right to grab your ass like that. He was a real asshole.”

  “Thanks,” she smiles. Her smile lights up the room. “Can I get that in writing from you?”

  “Yes, of course.”

  I startle her. Catch her off-guard, in a good way. I like that.

  “I’m just kidding,” she finally says. “Let me just get all this stuff to the kitchen, and I’ll come back and take your order.”

  When I return to the booth, the guys laugh and slap me on the shoulders. They know she’s not my type, they know that I’m breaking my rules.

  “I don’t know, Tyler. Looks like Wyatt’s in love,” Logan laughs.

  “With a waitress!” Tyler chimes in.

  “What happened to only dating girls with jobs or rich girls? Preferably both?” Ryan asks.

  “She’s got a job,” I say. “We’re at her job.”

  “Oh, please. A waitress? That’s not a real job. You’re breaking your rules, and you know it,” Logan jokes.

  It’s all in good fun, but right now I hate their teasing. They’re right of course, and still I want her.

  “Nothing’s happening. I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say as assertively as possible.

  “We see the way you’re looking at her,” Ryan says. “We’re not blind.”

  “I was just impressed with what she did. Brielle’s got spunk.”

  “Oh, Brielle, is it? You two are on a first name basis already?” Tyler chuckles. Dammit. I shouldn’t have let that slip.

  “It’s on her fuckin’ name tag, idiot,” I try to save myself. But they’re not buying it.

  Brielle comes back to our table to take our order. After writing down everyone else’s orders, she looks up at me from her notepad. My cock gets hard again, and I push it back down, under the table.

  “You know, you made quite an impression on our friend, Wyatt, here,” Logan suddenly says.

  “Is that so?”

  “I really liked how you handled that trucker,” I say. I feel like I’m on my back foot. I don’t like coming on to girls in this manner. I glare at Logan, but he doesn’t stop.

  “Wyatt was just telling us that you’re not at all like the girls we’re used to,” Logan continues.

  “Well, working for a living would do that to you,” she says with a smile. I hate how she mocks me for having money. I want her even more now. I want to push her down on the bed, and I want her to let me tie her hands to the bedpost. I want to tease her until she screams my name.

  “So what would you like? Wyatt, is it?” she turns to me.

  I had picked out something on the menu, but now I couldn’t remember what it was.

  “What would you recommend, Brielle?” I say reading her name tag. Her name is burned on my cock, but I can’t let her know that. Not yet.

  “Our spinach omelet with feta cheese is quite good.”

  “Okay, I’ll take that.”

  The café clears out a bit. While my friends continue to pick at their food, I excuse myself and head towards the bathroom. Before I get there, I pop into the back and find Brielle sitting on a crate reading a book. She quickly puts it away, but not before I catch the title. Jane Eyre. My sister’s favorite.

  “Can I help you with something?”

  “No, not really.”

  She stares at me. I know I need a reason for being here.

  “Yes, actually. I was just
wondering if I can take you out for a drink sometime.”

  I catch her off-guard. Her face lights up, and a brief smile crosses her face.

  “That’s probably not a good idea,” she says with a forlorn sigh.

  “Why’s that?”

  “Well, for one thing, you don’t even live here.”

  “How do you know?” I ask.

  She furrows her brows and folds her arms across her chest, pressing her breasts together in front of me. They look as if they are on a platter, and it requires all the strength within me not to reach out and touch them.

  “People who drive Bentleys don’t live around here.”

  She’s right, of course.

  “And the other thing?”

  She takes a deep breath.

  “I’m not looking for a relationship.”

  “Who said anything about a relationship?” I ask and immediately regret my choice of words.

  “And I’m definitely not looking for anything casual.”

  “Why’s that?” I ask.

  I should just drop it, but I can’t. No one, and I mean no one, has ever turned me down. I can’t even believe that this is really happening. Maybe she’s just toying with me. Maybe she’s just flirting.

  “Because I’m not into one night stands, Wyatt,” she says and walks away. I love the sound of my name in her mouth. I want to put more of me there.

  Brielle avoids eye contact with me the rest of the time that we are there. That makes me want her even more. She iss feisty and hot, and she doesn’t take shit from anyone. An unusual girl. I wanted her so much then, I thought I was going to explode.

  When she comes over with the check, I purposely extend my hand. She tries to place the plastic cover with the check into my hand, but I take the opportunity to reach out and touch her. Her touch is electric. It sends shivers through my body.

 

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