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

Ithought my eyes were playing tricks on me when she walked on stage.

Blakely Fox.

So that’s what she’s been going by.

I like it better than Gallow, but I can only imagine what Hugh will say when he finds out the one thing he’s been searching for all these years was right under his nose.

What were the chances of her being here?

Never in my wildest dreams did I peg her to have hidden submissive tendencies. Sure, I’d thought about how I’d turn her into one if given a chance, but for her to be so curious about it, she’s willing to let herself be bid on…

Jesus, help me.

And the outfit she’s wearing. I didn’t think she’d have it in her to prance around in the cheap bra and thong.

Her blonde hair is now dark, with blueish-purple highlights weaved throughout her thick locks. I would have said it’s a sin for her to have done it since there are few natural blondes in L.A., but she pulled it off. It gives her an edgier look, and I know damn well the Gallows would hate it.

It makes me love it even more.

The irony of it all has me almost giddy. I couldn’t have planned for the timing of this to be any better. In all the things I plotted in my head about how to take down her father, this was never an option.

I had it on my list to seduce Madelyn, not because I’m interested in the drunk floozy but just to irritate Hugh. Once his friends found out, he’d be more pissed than when he discovered the other men he found her with over the years.

But his little girl…the one who embarrassed him by running away and showing all his cronies he couldn’t control her…

This is too perfect. It’s better than fucking Madelyn. And it’ll be the final nail in the coffin to take Hugh Gallow down.

Plus, I’m going to enjoy every second of breaking his long-lost daughter and training her to be my perfect little pet.

My cock’s never been harder. The girl I couldn’t forget, the one I’ve wanted to defile for almost a decade, is sitting in my house and staring at me, debating about signing my contract.

At least, she wants me to think she’s debating, but I know she’s not. She stepped on that stage begging for this. Now, I’m offering her everything she could ask for on a silver platter.

And she’s going to be mine for a year. Long enough to have my fun and destroy Hugh in every way possible.

Blakely doesn’t answer me about my offer, so I give her an ultimatum. ‘I need an answer, Blakely. Are you signing or walking?’ I graze my index finger over her wet slit.

She inhales sharply, her eyes widening.

‘Calm chaos,’ I mutter, watching her blues dance in the dim light.

Her lips curve, and she softly replies, ‘Your oxymoron.’

I point to the darkness, claiming, ‘When you wake up, you’re going to look out that window, and you’ll see it. Every morning you’re here, you’ll watch the ocean morph into it.’

‘Did you ever think of me?’ she blurts out, then her cheeks turn to fire. She glances at the ceiling, takes a deep breath, then pins her focus on me again. She adds, ‘When you were surfing and realized it was calm chaos.’ A mix of hope and anxiety fills her expression.

I answer honestly, ‘Yes.’ I tap the papers. ‘Now, sign the contract, pet.’

‘Pet?’ she asks, her lips parted.

I groan inside. That mouth of hers has haunted me. I reach for her and slide my hands under her body, lifting her onto my lap.

‘Riggs! What—’ She bites her bottom lip.

I drag my finger between her cleavage, then slip it under the cheap material, stating, ‘Pets learn to be obedient and get rewarded. They’re also mine to touch…to stroke…to train. They get taken care of, but I guarantee you that you’ll feel more pleasure than you ever thought you could, even when I mix it with pain.’ Her nipple hardens under my finger, and I pinch it.

She gasps, jumping slightly. Her breath turns to shallow intakes.

I keep my fingers pressed firmly around her, and she squirms on my lap, her skin turning hotter. I press my forearm over her thighs.

‘Stop moving, Blakely. You don’t have permission,’ I state.

She furrows her brows, her defiance growing.

And it’s just where I want her. She’s always been independent. Hugh’s biggest problem was not being able to control her. He’d only admit it to me after several rounds of drinks. So it’ll be even sweeter when he learns that his daughter will listen to any command I give her. Of course, it’ll be when he’s at his lowest point, having already lost it all.

Yes, I’m going to turn Blakely into the submissive she’s dying to be, only this will be different from all the other women I’ve broken and trained. She won’t only be for my pleasure. She’s a weapon, and I’ll use her to my full advantage.

She murmurs, ‘I don’t want to be told what to do, Riggs.’

I drag my eyes down her body, homing in on the only parts covered by her scant clothing. When I meet her eyes again, I retort, ‘Oh, but you do.’

She shakes her head. ‘No.’

I softly chuckle. ‘You don’t know what you want. But you were on stage, willing to be bid on by strangers.’

She opens her mouth, then shuts it and turns away.

I move her chin, forcing her to look at me. ‘A year, Blakely. Whatever you’ve been doing to survive, stop doing it. Focus on your music. And me.’

‘You?’ she asks.

‘Yes. Me. And I focus on you. Isn’t that what you wanted all those years ago?’ I taunt.

Her cheeks deepen to a maroon.

I quickly add, ‘What we both wanted.’

My admission seems to momentarily appease her, but then she continues to contemplate the situation.

I switch gears and put her on her feet. I rise and state, ‘Okay. I guess I read the situation wrong. You’re not interested. Your ride’s outside.’

She swallows hard and doesn’t move, not flinching or retreating.

‘Time to go, Blakely,’ I claim and point toward the front door.

I wait for a minute, expecting her to tear her gaze off mine, but she doesn’t. It only makes me want her more. I slide my arm around her waist, moving her toward the door, and say, ‘It was nice seeing you. Our trip down memory lane is now over.’

She pushes away from me. ‘Riggs! Wait!’

My pulse quickens. I keep my neutral expression and cross my arms over my chest. ‘What is it? I don’t have time to waste, Blakely. And I’m not into teases.’

‘Teases? I’m not—’

‘Let’s not act like there’s nothing between us. You aren’t in your father’s house anymore, and I don’t give a damn what he thinks,’ I admit.

‘Why?’ she cries out.

Her question takes me by surprise. I stay quiet.

‘Tell me why you don’t care about what he thinks anymore,’ she demands.

I contemplate telling her the truth, but I never lay all my cards on the table. Plus, the less anyone knows, the better. Even my accountant and Jones knowing the truth are two too many people who know. I reply, ‘I have my reasons.’

Her expression hardens.

‘Let’s say your father and I have a different opinion on how to do things.’

‘Meaning?’

‘It involves business. That’s all I’m saying, and it’s more than I should have admitted.’

She takes an anxious breath, then lifts her chin. ‘Do you promise my father will never know where I am? If I sign the contract.’

I grunt. ‘I thought I made that clear already.’

In a firm tone, she orders, ‘Promise me, Riggs. Swear to me he will never find me here.’

‘I vow upon my life that he’ll never know you’re here. I meant it when I told you he doesn’t know about this place,’ I state, having no intention of ever revealing my Malibu house to anyone. Even the driver from the club had to sign a nondisclosure.

She adds, ‘And you’ll protect me from him?’

A sick feeling fills my gut, surprising me. What kind of father does a daughter want protection from?

I nod, making another declaration I mean to keep. ‘At all costs.’

She stares at me for another moment, and I do everything I can to wait her out. I think she’s going to cave, but she surprises me again and opens the front door.

My insides tremble. I don’t want to lose this opportunity, but I’m also not a beggar. I thought I had her sold on our little deal, but apparently, I don’t.

I’ll find out where she lives from the club.

One way or another, she’s going to be mine.

She steps outside into the dark night.

I watch her walk away from me, frozen and unable to chase her but racking my brain with how to stop her from leaving.

Blakely strolls to the SUV, taps on the driver’s window, and waits for him to roll it down. She says something, then steps back.

He reverses out of the driveway, and the hairs on the back of my neck rise. She returns to the house, walks past me, then sits down at the table. She picks up the pen, initials all the pages, and signs the final one. She holds the pen out. ‘Your turn.’

I don’t think I’ve ever worked so hard to maintain my cool. I sit next to her, scribble my initials and signature, then toss the pen on the contract. It makes a loud thud. I lean into her ear and murmur, ‘Didn’t your father teach you to read contracts before you sign them?’

Her lips twitch. ‘Yeah, he did. I try not to do most of the things he taught me though.’

I can’t help my growing smile. That’s the Blakely I know. Defiant and confident. Fearless in some ways. And I’m going to enjoy every moment of getting into her mind and breaking her until she trusts only me.

She adds, ‘Besides, you already made it clear.’

I’m so fascinated with her I can’t remember what she’s referring to or tear my eyes off her calm chaos fighting with a brewing storm. I question, ‘What did I make clear?’

Something dark enters her storm. It broods in a way that sends adrenaline shooting through me. She leans closer, her sea salt and driftwood scent I’ve tried to erase from my memory but couldn’t, floating in the air around us. She traces my skin around the opening of my shirt and states, ‘You stated that you were going to do to me whatever you felt like at the moment. Is that not true?’ She pouts, batting her eyes.

I need to fuck her.

No. She needs to learn what this is about, not what she thinks will happen.

If I fuck her now, there’s no going back.

Patience gets rewarded.

She needs to learn who’s in charge.

I grab her hands and pin her wrists behind her back so hard, her chest arches into my pecs. Her breath hitches, and shock fills her delicate features.

I reply, ‘That’s right, pet. You’re going to see sides of me you never knew existed. But before we start, what is it you think I want to do to you right now?’

Confusion replaces shock. ‘I-I…’

I tighten my grip over her wrists.

‘Riggs,’ she whispers, scrunching her beautiful face.

I put my mouth an inch from hers, wanting to kiss her but knowing if I do, it’ll mess everything up. And there’s no do-overs in my world. I have one chance to break her. There won’t be any way of using her to destroy her father if I act like a little boy and give in to my raging hard-on.

Her gaze drifts to my lips.

My erection strains against my zipper and I fight the debate.

No, I can’t afford either scenario to blow up, just to give in to the temptation of coming inside her.

I ignore my aching cock and release her, demanding, ‘Stand up.’

She hesitates.

I reach down, grip her armpits, and lift her to her feet.

‘Riggs?’

I spin her, push her over the table, and splay my hand across her spine.

‘Riggs, what are you doing?’ she cries out, turning her head to look at me, her cheek pressed against the wood.

I palm her ass, then lean over her, asserting, ‘This cheap, fake leather, along with this gaudy bra, is to never again be on your body. Do you understand me?’

She stays silent.

‘When I talk to you, I expect answers,’ I warn.

She nods, blinking hard. She manages, ‘I understand.’

‘You will never wear anything unless I approve it. Are we clear?’

Her lips quiver. She closes her eyes.

I slam my hand on the table next to her face.

She jumps, and her eyes glisten.

‘Answer me,’ I threaten.

‘Y-yes,’ she replies.

‘Good girl,’ I praise, dragging my knuckles down her spine. I step back and demand, ‘Turn over.’

She slowly spins, her expression both defiant and fearful, with confusion increasing by the second.

I make a circular motion with my finger, ordering, ‘Take it off.’

She hesitates.

‘I won’t tell you again without imprinting my hand on your ass,’ I warn, even though when I eventually spank her, she’ll love it so much she’ll beg me to do it some more.

She swallows hard.

I cock an eyebrow, taunting, ‘Ah, you’re already craving my handprint branded on you, aren’t you? Tell me, Blakely, did you think about it when you stepped on that stage tonight?’

She stays quiet.

I grind my molars, studying my new plaything, reminding myself that everything comes with time. ‘Off. Now,’ I command.

Taking a deep breath, she slowly reaches for her bra. She moves one strap at a time off her shoulders, not tearing her gaze off me, then reaches behind her and unclasps the hooks. She drops it on the table and lifts her chin higher.

I hold in my groan and don’t push her to remove her panties. I count to sixty, staring at her pink nipples, watching them get harder with every passing second as her breasts move up and down faster.

Real breasts.

So un-L.A.

But it’s her vulnerability that almost makes me come in my pants. I finally point to her lower body, commanding, ‘Keep going.’

A small tremble in her finger is the only indication she’s nervous. Other than that, she appears as cool as a cucumber as she slides them under the thin material and drops the thong to the floor. She steps out of it and continues to give me her exposed stare.

Minutes pass while I fixate on her bare body. Then I motion to the bar. ‘Go get me a scotch.’

She glares at me.

There’s the Blakely I know.

‘Did I stutter?’ I ask.

She clenches her jaw and huffs at the ceiling, then spins and goes to the liquor counter. She fills a crystal tumbler to the top with scotch and returns.

I go to the kitchen, pour it into the sink, then hand the glass to her. ‘Two fingers. Never more. Now, try again.’

She tilts her head. ‘Why are you doing this?’

‘The sooner you learn not to question me, the better your time here will be,’ I inform her.

She puts her hand on her hip and throws daggers at me with her glare. It’s nothing I didn’t expect. In fact, she’s playing right into my hand the way I figured she would. ‘I’m not going to be bossed around by you, Riggs.’

‘Is that so?’ I challenge.

‘Yes. I don’t know who you think—’

I grab her wrist and tug her down the hall.

‘Riggs! Let me go!’ she shouts.

I push open my bedroom door, go to the dresser, and take out a pair of handcuffs.

‘Riggs! I said to let me go!’ She tries to escape my grip but can’t.

I take her to the bathroom and position her in front of the mirror. I sling the handcuffs over the towel rack and secure one of them to her wrist.

‘What are you doing?’ she cries out, trying to free her arm from the restraint.

I spin her so she’s facing the mirror, pin her other wrist behind her, then secure the second cuff. Her eyes dart between me and her reflection. Her voice turns fearful, and she meekly asks, ‘Riggs?’

I graze my fingers over her thigh, slowly sliding up over her torso, then breasts, until my hand is around her neck. I don’t squeeze, but her breath hitches. I kiss the curve of her neck, then murmur in her ear, ‘I’m in charge, pet. You don’t question me. You never defy me. If I say to do something, you do it the right way. And you never touch me without permission. Understand?’ I flick my tongue on her lobe and inch back to study her.

There’s no calm in her expression. It’s pure chaos on a tidal wave, which only fuels my fire. The defiance I saw earlier still brews underneath the fear, and it’s so perfect, endorphins are zinging all through me.

‘Let me go,’ she quietly begs.

I cup her pussy and slide my finger inside her.

She arches her back and closes her eyes.

‘You sure you want me to let you go?’ I question.

She opens her mouth, and I circle my thumb over her clit, slowly pumping my finger in and out of her wet heat. She whimpers, and her knees wobble.

‘Tell me to stop,’ I taunt, curling her hair around my fist and tugging her head backward harder than in the past.

Her body trembles against mine. The defiance in her blues grows stronger.

‘Tell me to stop, Blakely.’

Heat radiates from her glistening skin. Her whimpers grow louder and longer as I continue manipulating her body. Neither of us tears our gaze off the other.

I insist, ‘You can’t have it both ways, Blakely. You either want what I give you, or you don’t. Which one is it going to be?’

She tries to look away, but I won’t let her.

‘Tell me to stop,’ I restate, then curl my finger inside her.

Her knees buckle, and her eyes roll.

I hold her tight to my waist, not letting up, keeping her shuddering and whimpering. I lower my voice further, more to maintain my control than for her benefit, and warn, ‘The next time you defy me, you won’t get this. Good pets get rewarded. Naughty ones get punished.’

The metal handcuffs jangle against the towel holder, making a loud clang. I release her hair, and she buries her face into the curve of my neck, riding out her orgasm and tormenting my cock even more.

When her body calms and she regains the strength in her legs, I step back, assessing my flushed, spent pet. I enter the bedroom, open a drawer, and pull out a gold collar. I return to the bathroom and secure it around her neck. Then I step next to her so we’re both facing the mirror.

She furrows her forehead, her questioning glare reappearing and pinned on my reflection.

I assert, ‘You’re mine, Blakely. I’m in charge. It’s best if you don’t forget it. Last chance to change your mind about the contract. You can yell at any time and I’ll let you go. I’ll tear up the contract and send you on your way. But if you don’t leave tonight, you won’t hear me give you any more outs. So decide if you’re in or out.’

She glares at me but stays quiet.

I cup her chin and nod at the mirror, murmuring, ‘If you stay, I own you, Blakely. All of you. Games are over. You’re in or out.’ But I know the games are only starting. I peck her on the lips even though I don’t kiss my subs on the mouth. But I know her already and, just as I suspected, she turns her face away from mine.

‘Ah, that’s my defiant little pet,’ I taunt, then add, ‘Yell at any time and it’s over.’

If she could, she’d be shooting darts at me with her eyes.

Feeling giddy, I walk out of the room and leave her cuffed to the towel rack and collared, with the only place to look being directly at her reflection.