Billionaire Auction by Brynn Paulin

Chapter Three

Kendrick was done. He was putting a stop to this now. “One hundred million.” No one would get the satisfaction of placing a bid on Moriah if he could help it.

There were murmurs of awe. Billionaires or not, he doubted any there had ever paid that much money for a weekend piece of ass. A hundred million was spouse level money.

There was silence. Obvious silence. The auction was over before it had really begun. Jof didn’t even bother asking for another bid—he knew as well as Kendrick did that there would be none. Maybe if he were selling her hand in marriage there would be more interest, but virginity alone did not usually command such a high price.

Still, Jof searched around as if to see if anyone would offer more without his prompting, and finding only stony stares, gave a curt nod to the official auctioneer who proceeded to tap his gavel lightly. He cleared his throat. “We have a winning bid for the grand sum of one-hundred million dollars.”

Disgusted by the whole ordeal and ready to leave immediately, Kendrick pulled out his smartphone and arranged to have half the money moved over to the designated account—an account he’d researched. Thankfully, it belonged to Moriah and not Jof, since Kendrick wouldn’t put it past the bastard to take the cash and run. The other half was due by the end of the weekend.

Despite the anticlimactic turn of events, the party slowly resumed, the celebration more muted than it was before the auction. Clients whispered and looked Kendrick’s way.

Pocketing his phone, Kendrick watch as Moriah was helped off the stage by her father. When she tried to collect her gown, the bastard tugged her forward, forcing her to remain unclothed. When she tried to cover her breasts with her arm, Jof smacked her elbow down and muttered at her. She lowered her gaze as he led her around the room like a prized mare, putting her on display for the licentious bidders who didn’t win as he thanked them for their attendance.

Kendrick waited impatiently then finally decided to go retrieve his prize. The poor girl was shaking.

“That was…impressive,” Jof remarked on his approach. “Unbelievably, you now owe me money.”

“No,” Kendrick replied, taking Moriah’s upper arm and pulling her away from her father. “I owe your daughter money. What she chooses to do with it is up to her.” He removed his jacket and draped it over her shoulders before taking her hand and leading her away.

“Where are you taking her?” Jofre called out.

“Home.” His home.

Kendrick told himself to slow down, as Moriah was practically running to keep up with his purposeful strides, but he was too angry to walk at a leisurely pace. He stormed out the front into the large circular drive and marched to the first manned car he saw. He put Moriah in the backseat of the black BMW despite the shocked protests of the driver. Kendrick removed his wallet and handed a wad of bills to the driver then he followed her in.

“We just need a ride to the jet port,” he explained. “Nothing more.”

“Yes, sir.” The man pocketed the substantial tip and started the car. The landing strip where the private jets waited was only a few minutes away from the residence. The driver would make it back to the party before his employer noticed his absence.

Moriah said nothing. She simply held his jacket close like a lifeline and stared out the window into the darkness. He studied her, searching for words of comfort, but he had none. What could he say to excuse the events of the evening?

With a frustrated huff, he removed his phone to alert the pilot to ready his jet. They would be arriving momentarily.

“Thank you,” she offered quietly. “I’m glad it’s you. I don’t know why it’s you, but I’m glad it is.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” he replied.

“To be my first lover.”

“I will not be your first lover.”

She nearly broke her neck she turned her head so fast. “You can’t pawn me off on another without my consent.”

He tried not to take umbrage. It was a reasonable concern given that her father sold her off. Yet, it still jarred that she thought so little of him.

“That’s not my intention. You’re released from the sex portion of the contract as far as I’m concerned. However, you will stay the designated three days at my home lest your father compel you into another auction purely out of greed.”

“Then why did you buy me if you had no intention of sleeping with me?”

Was he imagining the hurt in her tone?

“I never expected you to pay me for your father’s sins. And I sure as hell never expected you to be a martyr.” Every time Kendrick thought about it, he wanted to shake some sense into her.

“You agreed—”

“I simply informed Jof he had three days to return the money, an offer I extended simply for your benefit. You were incredibly…distressed…by the possibility of your father doing hard time for embezzlement.”

She lowered her eyes, and he knew there was more to it.

“Is there something you wish to share?”

“No,” she said all too quickly. She turned back to the window. “I just hate him, is all,” she whispered.

“Considering how you were crying at my feet the other day, I think otherwise. But if you sincerely feel this way, let me send the bastard to prison.”

“No, no…”

Kendrick rubbed his hands through his hair, frustrated by the needless circling. What was he missing? “Moriah, you’re wealthy in your own right now. You no longer need him.”

“I’m paying the firm back—and you’ll take my virginity. You paid for it, it is yours, and I demand you honor the contract. You will fuck me.”

What was this misguided bullshit?! How asinine, immature… What an ungrateful and imprudent little… Did Miss Catholic Good Girl actually use the work fuck? He’d never even heard her use a swear word before.

The car slowed, and Kendrick exited before it even came to a complete stop. He had to. If not, he was going throttle her. He was going to bend her over his lap and bring down the wrath of God upon her perfect little derriere. This wasn’t a game. A lesser man would give into her demand if only to teach her lesson.

Damn it.Remembering he was a gentleman first, he reined in his temper and offered his hand to help her from the vehicle. He figured the stress of the auction had obviously taken a toll on her. She was being stubbornly irrational at the moment, and from what he knew of her, that wasn’t her nature. He needed to give her a pass.

He led her up the stairs to the jet, greeted the cabin staff, and once inside, guided her to a seat.

“I can tell you’re upset,” she said quietly.

“You have no idea,” he muttered.

“I’m sorry.”

For some reason, her apology pissed him off more.

“I just… You paid so much money for me,” she said.

He left her then to check in with the flight crew and get his injured hand cleaned up. And to find the frustrating woman some clothes.