Highest Bidder (Salacious Players’ Club)

Ronan

I hold her in my lap the entire way home. Caressing her soft hair, as she leans against my chest, I shove down the feeling of regret for using Daisy so vilely. I’m not corrupting her, I know that, but I can’t help but fear that her reasons for wanting me to use her like that aren’t entirely kink related.

Daisy is hiding something.

When we were in Paris, things seemed great. She was happy, bubbly even. But it seemed the closer we became to each other, the more she tried to distance herself. I can see hints of anxiety and fear in her eyes.

I’m not pushing her for answers, mostly because I hope I’m wrong. I hope there’s nothing threatening to drive us apart.

There’s that foolish hope again.

Once we get back to the apartment, Daisy is asleep in my arms. She’s clearly still working through some jet lag, so I carry her inside. She stirs awake, but only cozies herself further into my arms.

Reaching the bedroom, I set her on the bed.

“Stay with me,” she murmurs, and I try to resist, but I can’t bring myself to pull away. Shedding my clothes down to my boxer briefs, I climb under the covers with her, letting her sleep against my chest.

But I don’t drift off. Sleep evades me as I lie awake with her in my arms, thinking about all the things that could go wrong. Projecting every scenario until I feel hopelessly certain that I will lose her. All based on suspicion and instinct.

I can’t helplessly lie here. Before the sun rises, I climb out of bed and go to my office.

The first thing I do is search up Daisy’s social media accounts, but she keeps them all private. And since I don’t have any active accounts of my own, I haven’t requested access to them.

As I craft an email to an old friend, who occasionally does investigative work for me on the side, I swallow down this crippling guilt. It’s the money that’s done this to me. The money and the heartbreak, never knowing if a person’s interest is genuine. Never knowing what they see when they look at me. That gnawing fear that I’ll never be anything more than a bankroll to anyone ever again is always living in the back of my mind.

So I quickly ask a favor—for him to look into Daisy, giving him all the information I have.

My stomach turns as I type. This feels like a betrayal.

And when my mouse hovers over the Send button, I remember lying with her in the bathtub, eyes closed, feeling more connected to her than I’ve felt to anyone in my life.

Fuck, what am I doing?

Before I can hit Send, I close out my email and shut off my computer.

What did I think he would find? A criminal background she’s hiding from me? Some secret family or life I don’t know about? No. Not Daisy.

With that, I head out of my office and walk back to the bedroom. She’s still sleeping peacefully in my bed, so I crawl back under the covers with her, absorbing her warmth as I kiss her head.

She stirs, clutching tightly to my body. Daisy trusts me. She needs me. Not only to take care of her, but also to give her a safe space to explore this new part of herself and her desires, without having to worry about someone taking advantage of her.

This pain and degradation she craves could be part of her healing process. I want to give her everything she needs, but I don’t know if I have it in me. It’s just not my style.

Perhaps if I do this, if I scratch this itch for Daisy, my doubts and fears will be silenced. I know exactly who I can ask for help, but I don’t know if that’s something Daisy will be open to.

“What’s wrong?” she whispers, gently peeling her eyes open and gazing up at me.

“Nothing, baby girl,” I reply in a whisper.

“You’re restless.”

“I’m just thinking. Go back to sleep.”

“Thinking about what?” she murmurs, ignoring my command.

I decide to forgo discretion and answer her questions. “About who I trust with you.”

Her eyes pop open as she lifts herself onto her elbow to stare at me. “You mean Eden, don’t you?”

My expression grows solemn as I nod. “Daisy, can you tell me why you like the idea of pain? Is it curiosity or something else?”

Her brow furrows. “Should I not—”

“No, baby girl. Never mind. You shouldn’t feel bad for what you want to try. I’m sorry for asking that.”

Her features relax as she rests her head against my chest. “I trust you, Ronan. And as long as you’re there to protect me, I’ll trust anyone else you want to join us.”

“I’ll always protect you, Daisy.” With that, I kiss her forehead and squeeze her body closer.

It only takes a few minutes before I hear her breathing slow to a sleeping cadence. She really does trust me. So why can’t I trust her? What is wrong with me?

I’m letting my jaded heart ruin something perfect. So I shove the worries away and close my eyes. This time, my fear and anxiety are gone, so within minutes, I drift off to sleep.