Page 124 of Bid For Me

The words hit me like a physical force, my pulse kicking up a notch.

“Where?” I ask, already stepping into the hallway.

Candy’s smile is faint but knowing. “She’s taking it all in. Wint is escorting her to the main floor.”

I nod, following her as she leads me back toward the main club. The sound of low music filters through the hallways, the murmur of conversation and the occasional laughter creating an undercurrent of energy that matches my own.

As we approach the balcony overlooking the main floor, I stop, my breath catching as I spot her.

Elle stands near the bar, her back to me, but I’d know her anywhere. The dress she’s chosen hugs her curves in all the right places, the deep emerald green making her glow. Her hair cascades down her back in soft waves, and even from a distance, I can see the slight nervous tension in the way she holds herself.

Wint stands beside her, his presence protective but unobtrusive, just as I instructed. Elle’s hand brushes against the invitation she holds, her fingers tracing the embossed edges as if it’s grounding her.

I take a moment to let the sight of her anchor me, to imprint this image in my mind. She’s here. She’s ready.

Candy leans in slightly. “She’s perfect for this, you know. For you.”

I don’t respond, my focus entirely on Elle as she turns slightly, her eyes scanning the room. When her gaze finally lifts to the balcony, locking onto mine, the world seems to stop.

Her lips part in a soft gasp, her eyes widening just enough to tell me she feels it too – that pull, that inevitability.

I start down the stairs, my steps slow and deliberate, never breaking eye contact. By the time I reach her, the noise around us fades, leaving only the pounding of my heart and the steady, magnetic force drawing us together.

“Elle,” I say, my voice low and intimate.

“Seb.” Her voice trembles just slightly, the sound of it sending a surge of satisfaction through me.

I extend my hand, palm up, and she places hers in mine without hesitation. The delicate warmth of her touch steadies me, grounds me.

“Are you ready?” I ask, my thumb brushing over her knuckles.

She nods, her eyes burning with a mix of nerves and trust. “Yes.”

“Good.” I tuck her hand into the crook of my arm, guiding her toward the private suite, where the rest of the night – our night – awaits.

CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT

Elle

As he leadsme into the private suite, my heart pounds, my anticipation heightened by the faint scent of leather and wood that lingers in the air. The room is warm, intimate, the soft light catching on the champagne flutes waiting on the side table. But it’s not the setting that holds my attention – it’s him.

Seb closes the door behind us with a quiet click. He turns to face me, his eyes dark with intent, the weight of his gaze pressing into me.

“Elle,” he murmurs, his voice low and commanding, “tonight, I’m going to give you what you’ve been craving.”

Heat floods my body at his words. He doesn’t ask. He knows.

“Are you ready to trust me?” His question isn’t casual – it’s a challenge, an invitation, and a promise all at once.

I swallow hard, my throat dry. I nod, but it’s not enough for him.

“Words, Elle,” he says, stepping closer, his voice like velvet wrapping around me.

“Yes,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.

“Louder.”

“Yes,” I say again, stronger this time, the certainty in my own voice surprising me.