Highest Bidder Collection - Lauren Landish Page 0,221

his slave. Period.

My heart skips a beat at the thought, my breath quickening. The whole contract is very much in Joseph’s hands. It scares the shit out of me, yet at the same time, it turns me on. It’s a paradox.

There’s something about giving this man total control over me that drives me absolutely wild.

I should be ashamed, but I’m not. I want it.

I want him.

It isn’t lost on me that I’ll be giving him my virginity. My V-card. It’s not that it’s something sacred to me, something that I’ve been holding on to as long as I can remember. I’ve just never … been with anyone who’s made me want to give it to them. I wasn’t waiting until marriage. Just waiting until I found someone who turned me on and wanted me just as much. Joseph is definitely that man.

I hardly know the man, and here I am, knowingly about to give myself away. I shouldn’t be doing this. I should know better. At the same time, I can’t help but think there’s something more between us, something I’ve never had with anyone else. I toss another tank top into the small pile on my bed.

Or maybe I’m just trying to justify it.

He’s so much like one of the heroes in one of my romance novels; handsome, dark, brooding, mysterious and most-likely hiding a damaged past that’ll pull at your heartstrings. That’s part of what draws me to him, how much of a living, breathing fantasy he seems to be.

But I need to remind myself. This isn’t a fantasy. It’s real life. And I’ve gotten myself into some serious shit. Except it hasn’t really sunken in yet. I’m not sure when it will. I’m infatuated with the romanticized version of Joseph.

Even now, my heart flutters at how concerned he seemed with making me feel comfortable with the contract.

I stare at the pile on my bed, remembering how he told me to bring only the things that make me happy with me. I glance down at my half-stuffed bag, looking to see what I have so far. My most favorite books and a new Kindle I bought that has loads of titles on my to-be read already downloaded, but I’m missing a few things.

I glance at my list, and go down the line of things I still need to grab, and then go about gathering them.

I grab a small blue pillow that’s on my bed that I use as a prop for my knees when I’m sleeping and toss it in the duffle bag. Walking into the bathroom, I grab my aromatherapy oils and some cherry bath bombs and stuff them in my small hygiene bag. While I’m in there, I grab some nail polish and my three favorite lace nightgowns that are hanging on the rack. I rub my fingers over the lace; they’re not nearly as beautiful as what Sir gifted me, but maybe he’ll like them.

My body heats imagining what he’ll say. I close my eyes and stop that train of thought.

I walk out of the bathroom with my personal items and I go down my list, getting anything else I might have left out. Comfortable socks and flannel pajama pants that I wear when I’m really happy.

In the kitchen, I grab a box of my favorite homemade tea that I absolutely love and get from the farmers market. I start packing it away, but then pause, wondering if he’ll even let me use these. I have to remember. He owns me. I have to do what he says, whether I like it or not.

So if he doesn’t want me to drink my favorite tea, I can’t drink it.

Anxiety twists my stomach as I begin to doubt my decision to sign the contract. I’m not sure if I can make it through 30 days of being told what to do. I like to think that I can, but it might be harder than I imagine.

Even though it’s a contract, you can always walk away, that voice in the back of my head whispers.

I shiver at the thought of breaking the terms of our agreement. But if I find that I can’t handle the situation, I’ll have to.

Pushing away the troublesome thoughts, I finish packing and go through the house, making sure I have everything that makes me happy or feel good. My laptop is the last item on my list. I’m about to pack it away when I decide that I want to check my email