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

‘Mmm,’ I utter, hugging my pillow tighter.

Riggs’s hand slides over my ass. Tingles erupt on my skin under his hot breath. He kisses the back of my neck and murmurs, ‘We have twenty minutes.’

‘Until…?’ I question, too sleepy to open my eyes.

He shifts on the mattress. The weight of his body presses over my back, his arms sliding under my hips. He lifts them, and the tip of his erection teases my entrance. He taunts, ‘You’ll be calmer if I let you come before we leave.’

My eyes flutter open. I rack my brain, wondering why Riggs thinks I’ll be anything but calm.

More meetings.

I groan.

‘Not the usual response I get when I’m on top of you naked,’ he teases.

‘Can’t we pick—’

He slides inside my pussy until his pelvis hits my ass.

‘Oh God!’ I breathe.

His tongue flicks my lobe. He keeps one arm under my hips and slides his other hand under the pillow. He pins my wrists to the mattress, slowly thrusting. He buries his face into the curve of my neck, asking, ‘How’s that feel, pet?’

‘So good,’ I admit.

He nibbles on my collarbone, thrusting faster. ‘And now?’

‘Better,’ I confess, closing my eyes, enjoying every moment of Riggs’s body in mine.

His fingers glide over my clit, circling it, and within seconds, he’s ordering, ‘Come.’

My body erupts into chaos. And I don’t know what’s happening between us anymore. Since my first day at the studio, Riggs has been different.

I thought he’d be upset with me after hearing my songs. Yet I rarely see him angry anymore. He didn’t say anything about my songs, except for praising me for how well I did.

More and more, he’s constantly asking me what I want or like. It took me by surprise at first. Now, I’m starting to get used to it, and it scares me. His actions only make me fall for him harder, and I’m already in over my head.

It’s not that he’s never demanding anymore. If anything, his need for control is stronger than ever. And his sexual desires are borderline insatiable. Not one day has passed where we haven’t had sex, or he’s not kissed me. Plus, I no longer have to think about touching him. I do it, and he never objects.

But he hasn’t punished me since before that day. The longer I go without seeing his wrath, the laxer around him I become. And when I catch myself, I can’t lie. Deep down, I know it’s a mistake to think he’s changed. At some point, Riggs is going to show his true colors. Our contract will be up, and I’ll be replaced.

So I do everything I can to remind myself we have an arrangement. It’s been a little over five months, and I’m almost halfway to the end.

The anxiety growing within me about leaving him won’t fade. Yet I can’t stop it.

‘Christ, pet,’ he mumbles, holding me tighter to him, thrusting harder into me.

‘Yes, like that, Sir,’ I cry out, not even realizing anymore when I call him Sir during sex until it rolls out of my mouth.

He loves it. I know he does, and pleasing him makes me happy.

He groans. ‘Fuck, you’re perfect.’

It’s another thing he often says these days. The glimmer of hope I’ll be his forever springs forward, and I try to push it away.

His palm slides up my arm and onto my neck. He glides it under my collar. There’s no slack left, and his fingers sprawl around my skin, holding me in place. He thrusts harder until my body’s out of control, convulsing underneath him, and he erupts inside me.

He stays on top of me, his heart beating into my shoulder, his sweat mixing with mine. His breath calms, and he rolls over, then slides his palm over my cheek. His eyes full of calm chaos meet mine.

‘Do I really have to go?’ I ask.

His lips twitch. ‘How many times have we gone over this, pet?’

‘I don’t like these meetings. Can’t you just pick one for me?’

He shakes his head. ‘No. I’ll interview and negotiate for you. But you need to feel comfortable with whatever agent you choose. This is important.’

I crawl on top of him and trace his lips with my finger. ‘Or, I could stay home, work on some new music, and you could text me when you’re on your way home. Then I could put on a mystery outfit and kneel for you until you come home and order me around all night.’ I beam at him, wiggling my eyebrows.

He chuckles. ‘A mystery outfit?’

‘Yep.’

He flips me onto my back.

I screech, laughing.

‘Or, you can put on your big girl panties, attend a very important business meeting, and put on the mystery outfit when we get home.’

‘Aww,’ I whine.

He rises and pulls me off the bed. ‘Time to shower.’

We get ready and leave the house.

‘Who are we meeting today?’ I ask.

‘Phil Millin, then Jack Secroy, and after that, Noah Kingsley.’

‘We met with all of them last week,’ I point out.

‘Yeah. They’re the top three picks,’ he states.

I lean closer to him. ‘Sounds like you have this handled. Why am I here again?’

He sighs. ‘Blakely, you’ll be tied to your agent for years. These aren’t short-term contracts.’

‘Guess they don’t have commitment issues,’ I blurt out, then immediately regret it.

Riggs’s face hardens. He questions, ‘You have something you want to talk about, pet?’

Heat flies into my cheeks. ‘No,’ I lie.

‘Seems to me you have something you need to get off your chest,’ he asserts.

‘I don’t have anything to discuss. Is there something you need to talk about?’ I question, my heart pounding so hard I’m sure he can hear it.

He veers onto the expressway, then he briefly pins his eyes on me before accelerating and weaving in and out of traffic, grinding his molars.

Why did I say that?

I put my hand on his thigh. ‘Thank you for helping me. I’d be lost without your assistance.’

His face softens. ‘You’re welcome. But you’d be fine.’

I shake my head, insisting, ‘No, I wouldn’t. You ask questions I don’t think about, and contracts make my head spin.’

‘Is that the real reason you never read mine until I made you?’

My chest tightens. ‘No.’

‘Then what was it?’

‘My father—’

‘The truth would be nice, pet,’ he interjects.

My pulse creeps up. His eyes dart between me and the traffic until I cave, confessing, ‘I wanted to stay with you. It didn’t matter what was on it.’

‘And now?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Knowing all the things you know about me, would you still sign it? If I handed you a stack of papers and said, ‘This is a new contract, sign it,’ what would you do?’ he asks.

Goose bumps break out on my skin. ‘A new contract?’

‘Hypothetically speaking. Humor me,’ he adds.

Is he asking me this because he wants to keep me longer? Or is it really hypothetical?

He pushes, ‘Cards on the table, pet. Would you sign without reading it? Or would you study it and then decide? Or, would you toss it back at me and tell me to fuck off?’

My mouth turns dry. The flutters in my stomach somersault.

In a hurt voice, he asserts, ‘I guess the answer is so bad you can’t admit it.’

‘Don’t put words in my mouth,’ I scold.

He glances over his shoulder, veers into the left lane, and accelerates past a semi. The Porsche rattles, and he replies, ‘Well, your silence says a lot.’

I toss back at him, ‘Why are you asking me this?’

‘Because we’re talking about contracts.’

‘Really? You want my honesty but can’t even be honest with me in return?’ I accuse.

Tension fills the car. He keeps his eyes on the road, pulls off the exit, then speeds down several streets before parallel parking.

For the first time in weeks, I’m pissed. I reach for the door, and he grabs my arm.

‘Did you forget my rule?’ he questions.

I sneer, ‘Which one? You have so many.’

‘Why are you acting like this?’

‘Like what? Someone who can open their own car door?’ I seethe, internally cursing myself for expecting him to change when he never will. He’ll always just be playing games. No matter what I mean to Riggs, he’ll never let me in.

If I even mean anything.

‘It’s for your safety,’ he claims.

I roll my eyes. ‘My safety?’

‘Yes.’

‘There’s another lie,’ I mutter.

‘How is it a lie?’ he questions.

I insist, ‘It’s so you can control me.’

‘No. It’s actually not.’

I scoff. ‘Can you at least not lie to my face like I’m a moron?’

His face turns red. He blurts out, ‘When you step out of your car and get shot—and for no reason—then you can decide if I’m being a control freak or actually give a shit about your safety.’

My gut dives. ‘Did that happen to you?’

He grinds his molars, then shakes his head. He lowers his voice and says, ‘You live in a bubble, pet. You always have. And hey, I’m glad you do. But don’t ever question what I do to keep you safe.’ He gets out and slams the driver’s door.

Ugh! What have I done now?

He walks around, opens my door, and holds out his hand.

I take it, rise, and say, ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—’

‘Change the subject, pet.’

‘Riggs—’

‘We have a meeting to get to,’ he states, then guides me into the hotel. He goes to the counter and checks in.

I stay quiet, and he leads me into the elevator, down a hallway, and into a suite.

‘Make yourself comfy. We’re going to be here all day,’ he announces, then pulls his laptop out of his bag.

I slide my arms around his waist, hugging him from behind.

His body stiffens.

I blurt out, ‘I’m sorry. I would read the contract this time.’

He spins. ‘Why?’

I swallow hard. ‘So I know what I’m getting into and ask for what I wanted.’

Surprise registers on his expression. ‘What do you want that I haven’t given you?’

My pulse skyrockets, and my stomach flips.

The doorbell rings. Too scared to tell him what I want, I turn toward the door and announce, ‘I’ll get it.’ I walk a little too fast to the door and open it.

‘Blakely, good to see you, babe,’ Phil Millin booms, stepping forward and tugging me into his arms. He kisses me on the cheek.

Riggs steps next to me. His disapproval radiates off him. He slides his arm around my waist, tugging me away from Phil, and dryly asserts, ‘Have a seat at the table.’

Phil arrogantly glances at Riggs, then saunters over to the table. He pulls a folder out of his briefcase.

Riggs pulls my chair closer to his and motions for me to sit. I obey, and he takes his seat next to me.

Phil leans closer to me, gushing, ‘I’m excited to sign you, Blakely. With my connections and experience, you’re going to top the charts.’

Riggs interjects, ‘With Blakely’s talent, she’s going to top the charts. And we’re not committing to anyone today.’

Phil jerks his head toward Riggs. ‘Is this a joke?’

‘No. There are issues with your contract, if—and this is a big if right now—Blakely decides to sign with you,’ Riggs asserts.

‘What’s the issue, darling?’ Phil asks.

Riggs shifts in his seat.

I put my hand on his thigh and lean closer to him. Maybe Riggs is right to have me involved in this process. Something about Phil gives me the creeps.

Riggs’s voice turns colder. ‘Let’s start with her royalties. You’re 8% lower than where you need to be.’

‘The royalties are fair. The cost of promotion to take Blakely to the top is more than you realize,’ he claims.

Riggs stares him down, keeps his voice calm, and asserts, ‘It’s less than the industry standard, and you know it.’

Phil gives Riggs a warm smile. ‘No offense, but I know the music business inside and out. While your reputation as a businessman is impeccable, this isn’t your area of expertise.’

Riggs turns toward me. ‘Are you looking to get screwed?’

My stomach flips. I quietly answer, ‘No.’

‘Then if I were you, I’d tell Phil to take his deal and shove it up his ass.’

I gape at Riggs.

He gives me a challenging stare.

‘Ms. Fox, the deal I’m offering you doesn’t come around very often. I suggest you think twice before listening to someone who doesn’t understand how things work in the music world,’ Phil warns.

Riggs waits for me to speak, the blues in his eyes swirling, reminding me of the calm chaos he loves so much.

It’s nerve-racking to turn anything down. I’ve struggled for years to sit at a table with Phil Millin. He’s a legend in the industry. But I know Riggs has my best interests at heart. I trust him more than anyone. And there’s no way I’d accept an offer if he advises me not to.

So I lift my chin and lock eyes with Phil. ‘Thank you for your time, but I won’t be signing with you.’

‘You’re making a mistake,’ he declares.

Riggs winks at me, then rises. ‘When Blakely’s first song hits number one, remember that your greed ruined this deal.’

Phil’s cheeks turn red. He seethes, ‘This industry is a small world, Mr. Madden.’ He locks eyes with me, warning, ‘Having friends in high places is always better than burning the bridges with the same hands that feed those who are in power to make or break you.’

Riggs slides his arm around my waist and declares, ‘Thanks for the warning. Now, let me give you one. You do anything besides sing praises for Blakely’s talent, and you’ll have a lot more to worry about than the lost opportunity to sign her. Thanks for your time.’ He points to the door.

Phil scowls, shakes his head, and drops his card on the table. ‘Blakely, if you come to your senses, call me.’

‘She won’t be. She knows her worth,’ Riggs firmly declares and hands the card back to Phil.

He storms out of the room.

When the door’s secure, I turn to Riggs and fret, ‘Phil Millin isn’t someone we should piss off.’

‘He’s trying to screw you,’ Riggs scoffs.

‘I’m just saying—’

‘Both Jack and Noah have fair deals on the table,’ he informs me, then adds, ‘And their client lists are more impressive than Phil’s. Don’t listen to a word he says.’

‘Then why did you invite him here for another meeting?’ I question.

Riggs’s lips twitch. ‘Because he’s Phil Millin.’

My chest tightens. ‘And?’

‘And he’s in the top three. It’s your decision who you go with, and you deserve full transparency.’

‘You could have just told me his deal wasn’t up to par,’ I state.

Riggs chuckles.

‘What’s so funny?’ I inquire.

‘One day, when you realize what an ass he is, you’ll always have the memory of telling him to shove his shitty deal up his ass,’ Riggs declares.

I furrow my brows, deciding Riggs is officially crazy. But also adorable when he’s negotiating or telling important people off, sweet to care so much about this when he has a busy company to run and could be doing a million different things, and sexy as hell when he’s sticking up for me. Still, I remind him, ‘You’re the one who told him that.’

He grins. ‘You did in your own way.’

The bell rings, and my stomach knots again.

Riggs wiggles his eyebrows. ‘Next.’

Even though the first meeting went badly, the next two are both great. Jack and Noah both offer fair deals, and Riggs even negotiates a few more things into the contracts. At the end of each meeting, Riggs informs them that I’ll get back to them soon.

Noah leaves, and my head spins.

Riggs only seems energized by the negotiations.

‘You love this stuff, don’t you?’ I ask.

A boyish look appears on his handsome face. He questions, ‘Is it that obvious?’

‘You’re good at it. My father got lucky when he met you,’ I point out.

Riggs’s face darkens.

‘Sorry. Did I say something wrong?’ I fret.

He shakes his head and tugs me into him. ‘No. You’ve done everything right.’

Surprised, I reply, ‘I have?’

He strokes my cheek. ‘Yeah, pet. You have.’

‘Just in these meetings, right?’ I blurt out, then my face heats.

Why did I say that?

He freezes, then slowly shakes his head. ‘No.’

‘No?’

He steps closer. ‘You’ve done everything right. And I’m not easy. I know I’m not easy, but you still managed to pull it off.’

My butterflies go full force. Time seems to stand still. I open my mouth and then close it.

‘Say whatever’s on your mind, pet,’ he demands.

‘What does that mean? I-I want you to clarify what that means so I’m not confused,’ I admit, then add, ‘about us. I don’t want to keep being confused about us.’ My stomach dives so fast that I think I might get sick, but it’s the question that’s always on my mind.

He locks his blues on mine, his chest filling with air several times, his exhales steadied and controlled. He closes the small gap between us, tilting my chin up and studying me.

For the first time ever, I swear Riggs is nervous. It swirls all over him, and I’m sure he won’t answer me.

But he does.

He lowers his voice, claiming, ‘It means I was wrong.’

‘About what?’ I whisper, scared about what he will say.

‘How I want to love you,’ he declares.

My emotions roll through me. I’m unable to escape the tears. I force myself to ask, ‘Meaning?’

‘I need to do better.’

I inhale sharply.

He presses his lips to mine, then vows, ‘I will do better.’

‘Why?’ I ask.

He strokes my cheek, announcing, ‘Because you see me. And I don’t want us to ever end.’