"Trust me, it was tempting. He’s gorgeous. And his tight little butt?" She fans herself dramatically. "Seriously, those two are a lethal combination on the libido."

"There’s a third one too. Their older brother Collins is every bit as lickable."

"Damn. Good genetics, I guess." She dumps the shopping bags out onto the sofa for me to inspect her goods. "After lunch, I actually started to worry about leaving you alone with Colt. I figured that wasn’t the smartest idea, so we cut our outing short. We just walked around this cute little piazza and I went into a couple of boutiques." She holds a tiny sundress up to my frame. "I thought this would look cute on you."

"It’s  pretty." Lavender and touches of blue thread run through the soft fabric. "I can wear it with my strappy silver sandals."

"Exactly what I was thinking." She plucks a red mini skirt from the pile of clothes for herself. "Come on, get changed. We’re going out."

Becca and I spent the rest of the day sightseeing and are currently seated at a quaint little bar, munching on olives and cheese and sipping delicious wine. I still can’t believe Colton and Pace had actually flown to Italy in search of me. And as I sit here, slightly buzzed, I’m replaying our brief intimate encounter in my head.

"I know how you could get rid of it," Becca says, thoughtfully swirling the wine in her glass.

"What?"

"Your virginity. I mean, if you still want to, that is."

"How?" I ask, my mind spinning.

She tips her chin to a group of three cute Italian guys sitting together across the bar. "We could go pick up some hotties."

I briefly consider this. When in Rome…Why the hell not?

Because I still belong to Colton, that's why.

Even if I don’t want to, some strange part of me knows it’s true. He should be the one to take my virginity. When I think about his dark, hungry eyes that burn me up, his full mouth kissing my neck, and his thick, long cock, I know it has to be him. My chest flushes with heat and I’m transported right back to the moment earlier when I was right there – right on the edge –just a few more strokes of his fingers and I would have come apart. I always thought I needed a sex toy to get off, it turns out I just needed Colton.

"You’re thinking about him again." Becca smirks at me.

"I shouldn’t be."

"But you are."

***

The remainder of our trip is nearly perfect. Gorgeous summer weather, long afternoons spent wandering the beautiful and seductive city of Rome with my best friend by my side. But my nights are plagued with memories of Colton, though I suppose that’s unavoidable given the situation.

After the first day when he and his brother Pace showed up here unexpectedly, I’ve heard nothing more from him. I’m grateful that I opted not to upgrade my cell phone service to include international calling. I know I wouldn’t be strong enough to continue ignoring him if that were the case. As it is, every morning after breakfast, I have to force myself to walk past the hotel’s one computer in the business center to avoid connecting to my email. The thought that there could be a note from Colton waiting for me weighs heavily on my mind.

As much as I try to convince myself that things are done between us, some part deep inside of me knows that’s not true.

Chapter Four

Colton

Back in California, I throw myself into my work. It’s the only way to keep my thoughts from drifting to Sophie. I’m brutal in meetings, coarse in my communications and tense all the fucking time. My emotions are all over the damn place and my need for sex has only quadrupled since being near Sophie again. My feelings of longing are only intensified wandering my big, empty house alone at night.

I’ve tried texting her a couple of times, but I’ve gotten no response. She returned from Rome last weekend and has been in touch with Kylie, which is the only reason I know anything.

I should feel relieved. Sophie knows the truth now. Everything is out in the open. There's no more hiding my broken marriage from her and no one would ever need to know my dark secret about purchasing a sex slave. This whole thing could be over – we’re free from our arrangement. Only I don’t want to be.

I should just walk away, but I won’t. I still want to fuck her. Shit, it goes deeper than that if I’m being honest with myself. I like her. Her genuine nature, her selflessness for putting herself up for auction. She’s not like other girls. She made me macaroni for fuck’s sake, and refused my help for additional money. She’s not like the women in my past. Or she’s damn good at faking it.

Either way, I want to make her mine. I tell myself it’s just because I never got to have her. Weeks spent waiting while the sexual tension and anticipation between us built to epic proportions have left me with the world’s most critical case of blue balls. Terror alert level red. My sac is about to combust. Shit, at this point, I wonder if I even remember how to fuck. It can’t be that difficult, right? I shake away the sullen thoughts swirling in my brain.

I want to claim her body, to be the first man to penetrate her pussy. And as much as I try to deny it, something inside me wants more than that too. But the entire point of this whole charade was because I promised myself I wouldn’t get entangled with a woman ever again. So much for that not happening. I’m in deep with Sophie. Completely wrapped up in a woman I may have zero chance of having. But I’m not backing down now. No fucking way.

I'd bought and paid for her virginity, something I was not inclined to let simply slip through my fingers due to some technicality.

When I think back to her hotel room in Italy, the way she let me touch her…before completely shutting down on me, my stomach twists into a knot.

I’m not used to being turned down, and it’s not a feeling I want to grow accustomed to. I didn’t get where I am today by lying dormant. Deciding to take matters into my own hands, I call Sophie once more, giving her one last chance before I show up on her parent’s doorstep and drag her back to me.

I may have trust issues, and I still need to deal with Stella, but none of that is going to stop me from taking what’s mine. And Sophie is mine.

Expecting her voicemail, like every other time I’ve called, I’m surprised when she answers on the fourth ring.

"Sophie?" The surprise is evident in my voice.

"Hi," she says casually.

"We need to talk." She’s silent for several long moments, only the soft sounds of her breathing tell me she’s still on the line.




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