The Auction Block

by Courtney Lynn Rose

  He smirks. "I don't believe that for a second. Now, what about everyone else?"

  I groan. "Jax is Cobra. Rhett is Adder. Sammi is Boa, Hayato is Boomslang, and Dresden is known as Python."

  "Python? That's suitable. His biceps are insane." He laughs.

  I can't help but join in. "Yeah, he's rather proud of his physique."

  "I can tell. Dude struts around my apartment like he owns the damn place."

  "Well, don't let his arrogance fool you. He's deadly, and damn good at his job."

  "Are you close with anyone on the team outside your working relationship?"

  I raise my eyebrow at him. "What do you mean?"

  "You know what I mean," he says with more force than I expect.

  "I think you realize by now dating isn't something I'm capable of. No, I'm not involved with anyone on my team. However, as far as friendships go, I'm close with Dresden, Vlad, and have spent time with Rhett and Jameson outside work."

  "Good to know."

  His pupils dilate as he stares at me, and my body tenses as the clenching in my stomach shoots straight to my groin.

  This isn't happening.

  10

  ~Lily~

  By Saturday evening, I'm exhausted. I thought I’d be relaxing, but one of Blake's text messages ruined that idea. He's in his room and hasn't mentioned his line dancing plans for tonight. I walk out of my room, sliding my shoulder holsters on. I'm leaving the rest of my arsenal at the apartment.

  Being around Blake is more complicated than I expected. We left for work at 5:30 AM every day. Unfailing, we went to breakfast and lunch. He didn't assault me with too many personal questions, but every day he tried to take my hand or brushed his fingers across my knuckles, and I damn near freaked out.

  Part of me knows he's trying to help, and I wish I could just tell him to give up, but something inside me likes that he keeps trying. Most men would’ve moved on by now. He's nothing like what I'm used to, which is both refreshing and scary.

  "Hey, what's up?" Blake asks, joining the crowd in the kitchen.

  He's dressed in faded blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a tight black t-shirt.

  He's . . . hmmm . . . fuck— he's perfect.

  "We're going with you, Mr. Mason," Sammi says pleasantly as she puts on her jacket.

  "How’d you know I planned on going out?"

  "Well, for one Mr. Mason, you're wearing cowboy boots. Hayato's also been forwarding your text messages to my phone since Monday." I take a confident step toward him.

  His mouth drops open and his cheeks turn red. I'm sure he's embarrassed. I am too, but hide it better. His and Caleb's messages have been very colorful this past week, especially where I'm concerned.

  "So, you've read . . . oh, sweet Jesus," he stammers, running his hand through his hair. "Who else has read them?"

  "Just me, calm down. Not a big deal." I give him a pointed glare.

  If Jax reads those texts, we’re both going to have a wrath of shit to deal with. I'd rather avoid that at all costs. I respect Jax, and don't want him giving himself a heart attack over nothing. Blake lets out his breath, his tension and anger palpable.

  "Your friends are here, Mr. Mason," Jameson says opening the front door.

  Miranda and Caleb strut into the room. Caleb is dressed in tight jeans, a flannel shirt, boots, and a cowboy hat. I think he's taking the hillbilly persona a little far. Miranda on the other hand looks like she should be standing on a corner. Her dress hardly covers her ass and is so low cut she might as well be topless. She's wearing thigh high, come-fuck-me boots and more make-up than Bozo the Clown.

  Wonder how much she charges?

  "Hey baby," Miranda coos, running her hands up Blake's chest to his neck.

  "Hey, hon," he says in a nonchalant tone, briefly hugging her back.

  "Sup, bro," Caleb says as he and Blake bump fists. "You ready to have some fun?"

  "Yep. Looks like we’ve got a bigger crowd coming." Blake's eyes dart to me, followed by Caleb's.

  "Oh, really. You line dance, Agent Williams?"

  I step forward, smirking. "You could say that."

  "Well, let's roll out then, bitches," Caleb says bouncing in place.

  †††

  An hour into this outing, I've finally managed to relax. The team seems to be enjoying themselves though. Dresden, Blake, Vlad, and Caleb stand at the edge of the dance floor talking, watching the crowd, while Miranda makes line-dancing look slutty.

  Such a rare talent she has.

  Rhett, Jameson, and I sit at the far end of the table, while Sammi, Jax and Hayato are at the other end. I'm the only person without a beer in their hand, but I've never been much into drinking anyway. Jax must be in rare form tonight because even he’s having a beer. I've watched Blake like a hawk this evening, my eyes glued to him each time he moves across the dance floor.

  “Remember that summer you came to Texas with us?” Rhett smirks before he even finishes his sentence.

  I chuckle as I sip my water. “Oh, the one where you had to carry Jameson to the car because he thought he could keep up with Jack Daniels shots? Yeah, I remember.”

  “Hey, now, it’s not my fault you two are closet alcoholics.” Jameson sits his beer on the table as all three of us laugh.

  "Alright ladies and gents," the DJ says over the microphone catching our attention. "If you know Soft-shoe, get ya asses up because Carrie Underwood's about to bring it down with Songs Like This."

  My eyes meet Rhett's. He nods toward the dance floor, a grin playing at his lips. I give him my sly grin. This isn't going to be easy, but for once, I want to feel normal. I want to be twenty-seven and carefree, even if it's only for a moment— and even if I’m the only person who actually knows I’m still in my twenties. He stands and walks around, stopping in front of me and holds out his hand. I glance from it to his face.

  Fuck . . .

  My hand shakes violently as I reach out and place it in his. He ignores my reaction and pulls me to my feet, letting go of my hand as we walk toward the dance floor. He and I line up with the other dancers on the outside and my heart is pounding in my ears.

  "Lily!" Blake takes a step forward. "What are you doing?"

  I grin at him. "Dancin', Mr. Mason."

  The music starts, and Rhett smiles. We both join the group in clapping to the beginning of the song and as the dance starts, my feet move, gliding with precision and grace over the floor. I lose myself in the music, forgetting about everyone around me, ignoring the hoots and hollers coming from Caleb and Jameson, and the tapping of many feet against the floor.

  When the song ends, I strut back to the table and chug my water. Rhett's grinning from ear to ear, taking a long draw from his bottle.

  "Nice job, Lily," he says.

  "Thanks." I turn toward the dance the floor and almost slam into Blake's chest. Looking up, tremors run through my body from his closeness.

  "Alright, couples! It's time for Sweets and Wilds. Gents, grab your ladies and get ya asses on the floor," the DJ booms through the mic.

  "Dance with me," Blake whispers, his eyes blazing.

  I shake my head slightly. "I can't, Mr. Mason."

  "Please?"

  Something inside me pulls and I want, so bad, to say yes. His touch will send me in convulsions, no doubt, but for some unknown reason— I want it.

  I follow him out to the dance floor, tremors running from my shoulders to my knees. Blake stands next to me, gently setting his right arm across my shoulders as I lift my right hand, placing it in his. He reaches over and takes my left hand as well, squeezing gently.

  The music begins and I take a deep breath, the shakes making it almost impossible to stay standing. Dresden stares at me from the edge of the dance floor, his face full of pain and concern.

  "Talk to me," Blake whispers in my ear.

  "I'm okay, just ignore it."

  "This is what happens when people touch you?"

  "Yes."

  The music pick
s up and we move to the beat. My body never calms down, but his touch elicits far more than fear. It's the strangest mix I've ever experienced. With each turn around the floor, he pulls me tighter against his body, squeezing my hands.

  I look up into his face and my heart stutters. His gaze is intense, and I'm not sure if it's the way he makes me feel or the fact this is the first normal thing I've ever done in a long time, but I find myself smiling even as the shakes radiate like miniature earthquakes through my limbs.

  As the song ends, he gently lets go of my hands and takes a small step back, giving me space. My nerves calm, slowly returning to normal as we meander back to the table.

  Sitting down in my chair and reaching for my water, Jameson leans toward me. “For what it’s worth, I’m proud of you.”

  I glance at him with my bottle almost to my lips, my eyes wide. “Thanks, Mamba.”

  He nods and gives me a small smile. “What are friends for, right?”

  “Right,” I whisper as he sits up straight and I finally take a sip of my drink. Even though I don’t like showing my emotions, Jameson knows what he and the others mean to me.

  We all sit around, drinking and enjoying the evening. Miranda is on and off the phone, arguing with an ex-boyfriend apparently. If all dating aftermath is like that, I'm glad I don't have to deal with it. Listening to her answer phone calls and then whine to Blake after each one might be the most annoying thing . . . ever.

  "He's such an asshole," she says tossing her phone on the table.

  "Then stop answering his calls," Blake says with disinterest as he takes a draw from his beer.

  "You know it isn't that simple, Blake."

  "Yeah, it is. The dude treats you like shit. Treated you like shit when you dated him. Yet every time he calls, you jump to the phone." His eyes dart to mine and my stomach clenches.

  "Lily, where'd you learn to dance?" Caleb sets his drink on the table.

  "I'm originally from Texas."

  "No shit? No wonder you're hot." He winks at me.

  "Caleb!" Miranda's voice is shrill and makes me wince.

  "Oh, Christ man, stop drinking now," Blake says shaking his head.

  My cheeks heat, but a loud huff pulls my attention to the end of the table. Jax is glaring at me.

  Shit!

  "Lily." Jax stands.

  I knew this was going to happen. God damn it. I sigh, setting my drink down and standing. I follow Jax out of earshot of the others and look at the floor. His irritation is thick enough to cut with a hacksaw.

  " Your actions are inappropriate, Lily."

  "They are not."

  "Really? Breakfast with him every morning, lunch every afternoon. You're not the only person who’s read those text messages. Dancing with him . . . do you have any idea how you looked out there? If you were trying to hide the shaking, you failed."

  "I'm his bodyguard. Breakfast and lunch are necessary, seeing as he can't go alone. I have nothing to do with those messages. They're between him and Caleb. Tonight's my only infraction, and I'm sorry." I lift my eyes to his face.

  His demeanor softens. "I know. It isn't your fault. You're a beautiful young woman and someone was bound to notice. Nevertheless, you're the agent. If you let this go too far, I'll have no choice but to get Monroe involved." He gently rubs my upper arm.

  I shake, hard, gritting my teeth together. Jax ignores it and drops his hand. "Yes, sir."

  "She said leave her the fuck alone," Blake yells from somewhere behind us.

  I spin around as a guy damn near as tall as Blake shoves him. He staggers back, but immediately recovers and pushes the guy back. Miranda's standing just behind him, a mischievous grin on her lips. My entire team is on their feet, watching intently.

  The two continue to yell at one another. I stalk across the space, vaguely aware a few of my team members follow me. Without thinking, I push between them, place my hands on Blake's chest and push, hard. He continues to talk shit to the guy, the tension in his chest muscles too noticeable.

  "Blake!"

  Everyone shuts up and he gazes down at me, and then at my hands on his chest. I slowly let them drop, keeping my eyes on his.

  "Enough," I whisper.

  He takes a deep breath, closing his eyes and reopening them. Miranda's to my right, staring at him, her mouth hanging open.

  Trouble making bitch.

  "Listen, enough yelling, Let's jus— " Something hard connects with my cheek.

  Miranda's ex-boyfriend has got balls. He doesn't know who I am . . . but he's about to. Blake goes to move around me, but Dresden and Vlad each grab one of his arms. I stand straighter, and gently touch my cheek, hiding the pain it brings.

  "Don't interfere, Mr. Mason." Dresden is quiet but firm.

  I meet the brute's menacing stare. "So, you like to hit woman, huh?"

  He stalks forward, his hand cocked back ready to slap me again. As soon as he's within arm's reach, I jab my right fist out, hitting the side of his face, followed by a swift kick to his balls. Adrenaline courses through my veins, sending my brain into a mode I know all too well. He falls to his knees and I bring my left fist diagonally across my body, swinging to connect with his face again. He falls to the floor and I kick him onto his back.

  I squat next to him and fight to keep my voice steady. "The next time you come near Mr. Mason, or any of his friends, I'll put a bullet in your head. Have a good evening."

  As I stand, two police officers' barrel through the door and move toward me. Jax intercepts them, holding up his Interpol badge. We move to the front of our table as one officer talks to Miranda's ex and the other Jax. Blake's gaze is glued to me, an unreadable expression on his face.

  Behind him, Vlad, Dresden, and Rhett stare at me with the same expression.

  "What?"

  Blake reaches up and takes my chin between his thumb and index finger, sending a strong wave of tremors through my body. He tilts my heads to the side, examining my cheek.

  "This is probably going to bruise," he whispers.

  I jerk my chin from his grasp and laugh darkly.

  "What's so funny?"

  "Nothing. Relax, Mr. Mason, I'm fine."

  He leans down in a very measured way and puts his lips next to me ear. "Call me, Blake."

  "Why? Does it matter what I call you?"

  He chuckles, his breath on my skin sending shivers down my spine. "I like the way my name sounds on your lips."

  Fuck . . . me.

  He stands back up and I fidget, pressing my thighs together as blood pulses through my veins to my sex. In my peripheral, Jax is regarding us through narrowed eyes.

  11

  ~Lily~

  The following week, Caleb and Miranda come by Blake's apartment every night. They've texted each other very little, so I'm assuming Blake let them know his phone is monitored. I suspect he's emailing instead, which Sammi could hack, but it doesn't concern me right now.

  I've spent the majority of tonight standing on the balcony outside my bedroom. Horns blare from the street below mixed with people shouting and music coming from every bar in Canton. Friday night's a busy one in Baltimore. I'm glad Blake and his friends decided to have a quiet night here. He's got a charity event next weekend, so the down time is appreciated.

  I sigh, exiting my room, and move quietly to the main floor of the apartment. It’s one large room divided into a living room, dining room, and kitchen. Blake and the team stand around the island in the kitchen, talking in hushed tones. At the bottom of the stairs, I glance from the guys to the door of Sammi's office. I tiptoe to the office.

  Inside, Sammi sits at her desk watching the monitors. Most people find her job boring, but she loves it. She can use a computer to find information about anyone. It's like having a virtual ninja at your beck and call.

  "Hey, Boa."

  This is the first time we've been in a situation where we have "down-time."

  "Hey Lily, how's it going?"

  "Same shit, different day. You?"


  I stop next to her desk and fold my hands together behind my back. I learned early on not to touch her tech space. She goes from sweet to bat-shit in the blink of an eye.

  "Have you run out of stuff to do already, mate?" She sits back in her chair, twists slightly, and smiles at me.

  "You know, I could always train, but I don't want to wear Rhett and Jameson out and they’re my partners for now, and I think the other guys are tired of having their asses' kicked." I roll my eyes.

  "You and Mason seem to be getting along nicely." She raises her eyebrows.

  "Don't, Sammi," I say giving her a pointed look.

  "Oh, come on, Lily. I get the issues, mate, honestly, but you wouldn't be the first Interpol agent who fell for an assignment."

  "What?"

  "Hyde and his wife met when he first started at Interpol. She was in Witness Protection involving some murder case he was working. Apparently, they fell in love and married three days after she testified at the trial and was released from the program."

  "No shit."

  "Yeah, don't let anyone try to tell you how to feel. I get the risks, but you're young. If Jax tries to have you disciplined, you'd do well to use that bit of information against Monroe." She grins.

  "How did you know Jax was thinking about calling Monroe?"

  "Lily . . . I'm the most well informed person here. I know everything about you guys, remember?"

  I give her a sad laugh. "Yeah."

  Someone clears their throat from the doorway. I spin around to find Blake leaning up against the frame, hands in his pockets, a bemused look on his face.

  "Yes?" Sammi raises one of her eyebrows.

  "Jax needs to talk to everyone." He locks eyes with me and winks, spinning on his heels and strutting from the doorway.

  I stand with my mouth slightly open.

  "Come on," Sammi says walking around me. “Fix ya face, mate. You look like a jelly fish stung you and that man winking can’t be that painful.”

  I close my mouth and shake my head. I don't know what the hell Blake is doing to me, but part of me likes it . . . the other part, not so much.