All Chapters of Sold For $1 To The Hawthorne Brothers : Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

For a long, embarrassing moment, I forget how to speak. The words are at the tip of my tongue, but Adrian’s eyes are boring holes through my face and into my brain, cutting off the part that connects to speech. “Then again,” he murmurs, “I doubt you had any time between the jobs and shifts you had to pick up to learn how to dance.” He releases my hand abruptly and I lose my footing a bit. Adrian’s eyes dance with curiosity as he folds his arms. “My brother is…reckless. He does things as he wants, with no regard of how it affects others, as long as he’s having fun. I would’ve expected you to know better, Miss Wilson.” His gaze trails over my body with barely a flicker of interest—not like the gaping stare the bartender gave. And yet, heat travels down the path his eyes take, pooling in my belly. I will myself to ignore it. He doesn’t think it’s pretty. He’s probably calculating how much it cost and why Julian had to spend so much money on someone like

The car feels smaller—suffocatingly small—sitting close to Adrian. There’s some space between us; I’m seated at the very edge with my face plastered to the window, but I can still feel him. His scent mingles with the cool air, drifting over to my end no matter how I try to ignore it. My skin tingles with something I’ve refused to pay attention to, counting the cars we speed past instead. There aren’t that many of them, because the driver insists on keeping the speed limit. I groan as I catch another whiff—digging my fingernails into the leather seat. It’s going to leave marks, but it’s all his fault. I could’ve sat in the passenger’s seat, and we’d all be okay. I’d be okay. “Miss Wilson.” I shut my eyes tight. If I can just pretend that I’ve dozed off, then maybe… “You’re going to leave a strain on your neck being that close to the window,” he says, in an even tone, like he’s making an observation. “I don’t assume you’d want to wear a neck brace to class for the next t

The dress falls to my feet in a puddle of expensive yellow. I shiver, reaching around my body as the chill air hits for the first time. Adrian groans softly. “Lace,” he rasps thickly. “Was this Julian’s idea?” His jaw clenches as he speaks, as if the thought annoys him. I shake my head, sounding breathless when I speak. “No. The store manager offered it on the house. She said it would go best with the dress.” It was a flimsy lace matching set—a bra that had just enough padding to cover my nipples, because of the deep plunge, and panties that could rip with a single pull. Adrian’s mouth curves with a wicked smile. “She was right.” He runs a hand down my arm, tracing it to my stomach. His fingers glide lower, hooking under the waistband of my panties. I gasp softly, instinctively pressing my legs together. He nudges them apart. “I want to see you,” he tells me firmly. “Besides, you’re going to be bent over when my head is between your thighs, your pussy on display for me.” Filth

The scent of something warm and buttery pulls me out of bed, just as the door opens and Grace walks in. “Miss Wilson,” she nods curtly. “I’m here to change the sheets.” “Sheets?” I glance down at the bed, my face flaming instantly as I see a damp patch smack-dab in the middle of my bed. I splutter as I try to speak, staring intently at the floor. “May I?” She asks warmly. “Mr. Hawthorne is already in the dining room, if you’d like to join him for breakfast.” My stomach makes a noise, but I shake my head. “I—I think I’ll take a shower first,” I mumble, retreating into the bathroom in a hurry. I shut the door behind me with a groan. “Why couldn’t I have woken up earlier?” I mumble, walking over to the mirror. I look like I had sex, too. I’m wearing Adrian’s shirt that I somehow got into somewhere between him fucking me until I couldn’t feel my legs, then holding me in his arms. Or maybe he put it on me while I was happily blacked out in the aftermath of body-melting

“Adriana? You sold me off without a thought, and now you’ve forgotten my name?” “Oh,” he laughs nervously, wiping a hand down his neck. “That…that was a mistake. Of course, I know you’re Alina. I was there when you were named.” “You?” I groan. The whole thing feels like one big joke, standing here, staring at the awkward smile on his face as he tries to salvage a situation he ruined years ago. “You’re not my biological father, Gerald,” I use his first name, stepping closer. “So, no, you weren’t there when I was named. I don’t know why you asked to see me, but if I were you, I’d get to the point real quick.” He nods eagerly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He does the same to the front of his pants with both hands, his smile widening—an attempt I know all too well. He was going to play the father, the only family member left card, because he wanted something from me. “Money?” I snap before he speaks. “Is that what you want? What?” I cross my arms when he tries to