The Auction: A Dark Romance (Club Indulgence Duet Book 1)

Anger rages inside me. It’s not at Blakley. Nothing is her fault. I shouldn’t have lost control in the shower and kissed her.

She’s going to want more. I can already see it.

Hell, I want more, and it can’t happen again. Kissing leads to attachments. The last thing I need is to take my eye off what’s important, which is taking down Hugh. So no matter how much I’m attracted to his daughter, she’s my secret weapon. I need to remember that at all times. And I quickly need to regain the power in this relationship.

It’s why I had to call her pet in front of the delivery men. I knew it would embarrass her as well as distort her rose-colored view of what happened this morning between us.

Then there’s the issue of the delivery guys. Sam gets a pass. He had the willpower not to give my pet lewd looks. On the other hand, Wayne has my wrath coming to him.

I step outside the beach house, intentionally not giving Blakely an answer she wants to hear, and head down the driveway toward the men.

Everything I felt as a child spins inside me, and the monster within me takes off his disguise. I lunge at Wayne, spinning him into the truck and restraining him to the metal with my forearm against his spine. I grab him by the hair, tugging until his face is toward the sky and he’s choking for air.

‘Easy!’ Sam yells.

I jerk my head toward him, feeling the chaos building and knowing I’m at a point there’s no calm anywhere, threatening, ‘Do you want to put your job in jeopardy too?’

He holds up his hands, his brown eyes widening, answering, ‘No, man.’ He takes a step back, freezing on the concrete.

It doesn’t surprise me. I just bought a three-million-dollar piano, and with that comes the ability to turn men into cowards. It’s a hard fact I learned early on in my career. I had just begun making money and saw how Hugh could shut people up or get them to back off by showcasing what he could buy.

L.A.’s upper echelons opened up a different world to me than I knew in Compton. In my neighborhood, street credibility came from guns or knives or fighting your way to the top of gangs. The differences in how Hugh’s world worked were eye-opening yet also a hard transition. I had to learn to control my temper, not use violence, and be strategic in how I threatened others.

Most days, I have complete control over my actions. Then there are moments like these. There’s a loss of all discipline, fueling a fear that I might totally snap and destroy everything I’ve built.

In these situations, I can barely control myself. I mix all the lessons I learned from Hugh about how to make people hurt with the ways of my past.

It’s a dangerous headspace for me to dwell in, and getting out of my neurotic state as quickly as possible is vital. I know this about myself. I’m one wrong move away from ending up where most of the kids I grew up with reside.

Calling the piano store and getting this guy fired would be easy. It would keep me out of prison. But it’s not enough.

Right now, I’m so unhinged from the lack of control I displayed earlier in the shower with Blakely and from watching this piece of shit have the balls to inappropriately check her out, and right in front of me, that I can’t see straight.

Wayne’s face morphs from red to purple. I sniff hard, reminding myself not to snap his neck off. I lean into his ear, snarling, ‘Do you always go into other men’s houses and lust after what’s theirs?’

He sputters some more, and saliva drips from the corners of his mouth.

I tug his head another inch, seething, ‘If you ever look at what’s mine again, you’re dead.’ I lower my voice, warning, ‘And let me assure you. She’s mine.’

‘He won’t,’ Sam vouches.

Still pissed, I shove my knee into Wayne’s back, and something between a choking sound and yelp comes out of him. I glance at Sam, threatening, ‘If he goes near her, I’m coming after you too.’

Horror fills Sam’s expression.

I push Wayne into the truck harder, then step back, demanding, ‘Now, get off my property before I kill you.’ I stroll over to my Porsche and hop inside it. I make a note to call the piano store and get Wayne fired.

My car’s already facing the road, and hence the front of the van. I always reverse into the driveway. Call it a habit from having to watch my back and speed away from trouble too often in my youth.

I watch Sam help Wayne into the vehicle. I rev the engine, and Sam hurries to the driver’s seat, sliding in and slamming the door. He backs up onto the street and takes off.

I follow the van, then wait for the wooden gates to shut and secure Blakely from any unwelcome guests. I make my way to the office, unable to get her off my mind the entire ride.

Jesus, that outfit.

I need to give Isabella a bonus.

I picked it out of the wardrobe I brought home, thinking my pet would look sexy wearing it, but I underestimated her. The silk was so thin, I could see a hint of my palm mark on her ass. And the gold strip between her ass cheeks, knowing I was in there only a short while ago… Fuck!

And my pet isn’t as naive as she wants me to believe. She wanted me to think all day about what it felt like to be inside her virgin hole. It only took one look at her during our discussion last night over the contract to know she’d never let anyone else go there. All that knowledge did was stroke my ego more.

Today, she could have worn the flip-flops, but she chose those stilettos to tease me. I know she did, and it worked. The way her ass popped just a bit higher made my dick instantly hard again.

I sit in traffic for over forty minutes at a standstill, finding the control to not stroke myself over all the images of what I plan on doing to her over the next year. When I start moving, it’s as fast as a baby crawling, so it takes close to two hours to get to the office.

It’s one of the curses of living in Malibu and having an L.A. office. I normally set off earlier in the morning, but I wasn’t about to leave Blakely on her own with delivery men. Not that I think she’d do anything, but there are few men I trust. No one is getting near her without me present. Now that I saw how Wayne acted with me right next to her, I’m glad I made that decision. Who knows what the bastard would have tried if I wasn’t there.

I pull into the parking garage, then briskly make my way through the building, still feeling tense. If I didn’t have to close a big merger I’ve been working on all year, I’d normally go to Club Indulgence and take it out on a sub all day. Since I have my pet now, I would have stayed home and reminded her she’s here to submit to me.

When I get to the top floor, my assistant Connie hands me a file and announces, ‘Cedcon arrived early. They’re in the conference room.’

I glance at my watch. It’s thirty minutes before our meeting time. I snap, ‘Let them wait.’

Connie arches her eyebrows.

Cedcon is a tech company Hugh thought I didn’t stand a chance of convincing to sell. Today would normally put me in a good mood—and I never respond to Connie in that tone—but this is what happens when I’m off-kilter. I can’t control the tiniest of things.

Regardless of her insulted look, I saunter past her and go into my office, shutting the door.

Tossing the file on my desk, I stand in front of the window, stare down at the L.A. chaos, and take some breaths, trying to calm myself. About ten minutes later, I’m able to glance at the folder.

I review all the merger information, go down the hall, and enter the conference room. Hugh’s sitting at the head of the table, telling them how their life will change once they have our money.

Disgust fills me. I force myself to put on a happy face and say my hellos.

Hugh gives me his usual expression, which I used to take pride in. It’s his order to close the deal once he finishes schmoozing. My gut churns now, when in the past, I looked forward to that expression.

We were a team, and he trusted me to take over. Now, I know the truth. I’m not only better at this than he ever was, but I also can’t stand the sight of him. So I muster all the self-discipline I have to appear normal as he continues his egotistical talk.

I observe him, wanting to find some clue that he’s treating me differently or a shred of uncomfortableness in his body language, but there’s nothing. It only makes me beat myself up further for falling for his act all these years and trusting him.

I vow again to destroy every part of what he holds dear in his life. Then I decide he deserves to receive another picture of his princess tonight. I debate whether it should be my handprint on her ass cheek or her lips around my cock. Or maybe I’ll record her begging me for mercy.

When it finally comes time for me to take over, I spend an hour on final negotiations. Our attorney edits the contracts. Their attorney reviews the changes and then everyone signs.

If I hadn’t known my partner was screwing me over, I’d have the biggest hard-on in L.A. right now. This is the largest deal I’ve ever closed, and it’s also international. The merger will attract even more clientele, and we won’t be going to them. They’ll be knocking on our door, which is something we used to only dream would someday happen.

Yet all I can wonder is how much of this deal Hugh’s going to siphon off into his offshore accounts.

The clients leave, and Hugh slaps me on the back, booming, ‘We did it! Give me a few minutes, and I’ll meet you at Bar Fifty-Two. I have an issue I need to handle first.’

You mean I did it, you snake.

I shake my head. ‘Sorry, I have to get out of here in a few.’

His face falls. I would have rather died in the past than let him down. The thing Hugh loves most about our business is the celebration scotch and boasting about it to all his cronies at Bar Fifty-Two. He orders, ‘Just one.’

‘Sorry. We’ll catch up next week. I can’t get out of my engagement tonight,’ I quickly add, then steer him out of the conference room and to his office. I repeat, ‘Next week, for sure.’

‘Okay, but you’re buying,’ he states.

His comment would normally not bother me. Now, I can only think about how he’s stealing from me and I’m still buying the drinks.

‘Done,’ I say, then nod to two security guys, Roy and George.

‘My office,’ Hugh demands in a firm voice.

The hairs on my arms rise. Why is he pissed at them?

Something tells me to stick around. I grab the door handle, motion for everyone to go inside Hugh’s office, and declare, ‘Nice work, Hugh.’

‘You too,’ he replies, then orders Roy and George to sit.

I shut the door but leave it open with a slight crack.

Hugh seethes, ‘How did you let her escape?’

‘We got a flat tire, boss,’ Roy explains.

‘She jumped out the back of the SUV. We followed her, but damn, she’s fast,’ George adds.

Hugh bellows, ‘Morons! I should fire you now.’

Silence fills the room.

Hugh asks, ‘Where did you lose her?’

‘She went into a club. The bouncer wouldn’t let us in,’ Roy declares.

It’s like fuel pouring over my rage. I’ve heard all I need to. It’s clear these two are the ones who kidnapped Blakely.

I leave the building and get into my Porsche. I call Chainsaw.

He answers, ‘Riggs. I should have some news later tonight.’

I state, ‘Hurry up. When you get done, there’s a deuce for you.’

He chuckles. ‘I see you’re making lots of friends these days.’

‘Yep. Speed it up,’ I reiterate and hang up. Snake’s going down, but so are Roy and George.

I leave the parking garage and head toward Malibu, anxious to get home to Blakely, but a few minutes in rush hour traffic makes me realize I’m still too out of control. And all I can envision is the new affection she had in her eyes for me when I left her to dry her hair in the bathroom.

Every part of me craves to see more of it. Yet I need to avoid it. At least for now. It’s time to refocus. The event at the club is right around the corner.

I mentally go through my schedule to think about what I can push out, but there are too many large deals on the table.

I need reinforcements.

I pick up the phone and call one of my former subs, Aria. I broke her in years ago. She’s helped me with a few of my subs in the past.

The phone rings twice, and she coos, ‘Riggs. Long time.’

‘Aria, how’ve you been?’ I question.

‘I can’t complain. You?’

‘Good. I need your assistance.’

She laughs. ‘Of course you do. Why else would you call.’

‘Guess I’m predictable,’ I claim.

Aria takes a deep breath, which makes me smile. She’s like an open book to me after our time together. Every ounce of air she takes displays a different emotion, and this one has pure adrenaline in it. She inquires, ‘The woman you bid on?’

‘Yes.’

‘When do you want to meet?’ she asks.

Calmness enters me. Getting some assistance to train Blakely while I’m at work is the best idea I’ve had all day. Aria is the best at what she does. She’s never let me down with any previous subs.

Since I bought Blakely at the auction, I have to prove she’s fully submitted to me at the two-week mark, or the club will revoke our contract. They’ll give an apartment to her in the city. It’ll be in a discreet location the club chooses for the remainder of the contract period.

The fine print of the club’s paperwork states that Club Indulgence has the final say over everything. It’s in the members’ contracts and the subs who go up on the auction block. Since Blakely didn’t even bother to look at my contract until I forced her to, I doubt she paid attention to the details, not that it’s clear what it means.

It’s why rule fourteen is in my contract. The one Blakely was fretting over. Every Dom must have it in his contract, as well as rule five stating a safe word, and rule twelve about basic needs being provided for by the Dom. The rest of the rules the club allows the Dom to create. And while I added language to rule five, it was approved by the board when they reviewed my contract.

The mandatory rules ensure subs are being taken care of properly and sever the relationships that aren’t working.

So while I told Blakely not to worry about rule fourteen because it’s off the table, I was telling a half-truth. It won’t be due to my boredom if it gets enacted, but if she doesn’t fully submit when it’s time to present her to the club, I won’t have a choice.

And I’ll be damned if I allow that to happen.

I ask Aria, ‘Can you meet tonight?’

She chirps, ‘Sorry. I have a date.’

‘Cancel it. I’m on a timeline. And I need you to stay until she’s ready. Please,’ I add.

Another moment of silence passes.

‘Aria—’

‘Well, don’t beg me. It’s not becoming of you, Riggs,’ she teases.

‘You know what the rules are, Flower,’ I remind her.

‘Oh, not fair! You know I still get weak-kneed when you call me that,’ she scolds.

I chuckle. Flower was the nickname I gave Aria. I assert, ‘Then say yes to tonight, and you’ll hear more of it.’

‘Ugh. Riggs, I like this guy,’ she whines.

‘Bring him. I’ll train him for you,’ I offer.

Another moment passes, and she lowers her voice, confessing, ‘He’s not in the lifestyle.’

My pulse pounds quicker. Aria and I are good friends. There’s nothing between us except that, and I care about her well-being. I claim, ‘You know that’ll never work.’

She groans. ‘Things change. People can change.’

‘No. That’s not how our lifestyle works. You’ll get bored.’

‘I won’t. He’s a really great guy!’

I reprimand, ‘Aria, you can’t go backward.’

The line turns silent again.

She says, ‘Riggs, he’s different.’

‘Then you have to convert him,’ I declare.

‘He says he isn’t into it.’

‘Then dump him,’ I order.

‘No.’

‘Flower, I’m trying to look out for you,’ I state, then veer left to avoid a semi.

Horns blare, and I give the driver my middle finger. And I’m frustrated with this entire conversation. I can’t risk losing my pet, and Aria will realize after tonight there’s no backtracking into old lifestyles once you’re in ours. So I use my most commanding voice, demanding, ‘Loverboy will wait. Tonight, Flower.’

She sharply inhales, then stays quiet.

I can imagine her squeezing her thighs together and lightly scratching her neck. And this is exactly why she can’t be with a vanilla-sex guy. She needs a Dom. One firm order, and I know I have her, but I still question, ‘Is that a yes?’

She sighs. ‘Okay, but you owe me.’

‘But you love reminiscing so much,’ I remind her.

She snorts. ‘Don’t push it. Apartment Thirteen?’

I grin. ‘Always. And bring your stud. Let him learn.’

‘Hard pass,’ she says.

‘Suit yourself. I need blueish-purple highlights put in your hair, and call Isabella. Tell her to rush over the gold heels and lingerie I bought the other day. Wear it tonight. I’ll send a driver around six.’ I hang up and continue to deal with the traffic. I crack my window but within seconds shut it when the smog seeps into my Porsche.

I almost call Blakely but stop myself. It’s too soon for her to hear from me. She needs to wonder what I’m doing and when I’m returning.

When I get to Malibu, I roll the windows down and turn the volume up. I get to my driveway, open the gate, and reverse in.

For several moments, I sit in the car, fighting the adrenaline pooling in my cells over the thought of seeing my pet. I remind myself of several things.

I must retain full control over Blakely at all times.

Real submission can only be achieved after one has been broken into pieces and put back together.

Everything must be earned. I’m not entitled to anyone, including Blakely. It all has to be her choice, but she’ll have to demonstrate it, or our journey will end before it begins.