by Brynley Bush
I realize with dawning comprehension just how dire my circumstances are if I can’t find Griffin. I have no clothes on except for a tuxedo jacket, no phone since I left mine in the car as they aren’t allowed in the club, and no way to get into the car since Griffin has the keys. I don’t even know anyone here unless you count Dominic, who is the last person I can trust.
Then I see a slight girl moving through the crowd carrying a large box, her pink streaked hair standing out like a beacon. Shelly!
I push my way through the crowd, trying to catch up with her.
“Shelly,” I say breathlessly, touching her on the arm to get her attention. “Thank goodness.”
She turns and I see recognition dawn on her face. She smiles at me.
“Can you help me? I’m looking for someone. We were together earlier and now I can’t find him. But it’s really important that I do.”
“Tall blond guy? Gorgeous?” she asks.
I nod.
“He’s looking for you, too,” she says with a wink. “Lucky girl.”
Thank goodness he’s okay.
“Do you know where he went?” I ask insistently.
“No, sorry,” she says. Raising her voice to be heard over the crowd that is gathering in front of the stage she adds, “The fundraiser is about to start. Go join those people standing to the left of the stage. He’ll definitely find you there! Have fun!”
With another wink, she’s gone.
I hope she’s right. It’s gotten so crowded down here I can barely move, much less find anyone. I make my way over to the group of mostly women along with a few shirtless men who are lined up at the left end of the stage. There’s a palpable air of excitement and nervous anticipation as Dominic says something about the fundraising event starting, with all proceeds going to the American Cancer Society. He hands the microphone to another man who starts talking but I’m not really paying attention; I’m too busy scanning the crowd looking for Griffin.
Then, without warning, I’m being pulled up onto the stage. I stand frozen, looking out into the sea of mostly male faces who are appraising me like I’m some sort of property. Suddenly painfully aware of my lack of clothing, I nervously pull the jacket tighter around me.
“Now, now, pet, don’t do that,” the man with the microphone chastises, pulling my hands away from the lapels of the coat and behind my back in one smooth move, effortlessly clipping them together. I feel a tendril of fear at my sudden vulnerability, and my face flushes as the jacket parts slightly, revealing the inner curve of my breasts. I close my eyes in mortification. I don’t even want to think about what else might be revealed. “The audience should at least get a glimpse of what they’re bidding for,” he adds to an accompanying chorus of wolf calls.
My eyes fly open. Bidding for? What the hell is he talking about? I look wildly over at the man with the microphone but he is oblivious to my confusion.
“This beautiful, dark-haired sub opens our auction for charity tonight,” he is saying. He opens the jacket, fully exposing my left breast which he squeezes roughly before tweaking the nipple. “It would appear by her attire that this Bond Girl prefers things shaken, not stirred. She will undoubtedly enjoy serving whoever wins her for the night.”
The crowd laughs appreciatively. Oh god. An auction? This can’t be happening.
“I’m afraid there’s been a mistake,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.
The auctioneer looks at me kindly. “Don’t worry,” he says quietly into my ear. “Most subs are nervous at their first auction. But I’ve never had one who didn’t enjoy being purchased by a Dominant. Besides, you always have your safe word if things get out of hand.”
Before I can say anything else he turns back to the crowd and says, “Our little sub is nervous. Let’s encourage her with a starting bid.”
There’s a flurry of activity as numerous hands go up, and before I realize what’s happening, the price for me is quickly driven up to twenty-five thousand dollars. I’d be flattered if I wasn’t terrified.
“Forty thousand dollars,” a British voice calls out, and I see the attractive man with the piercing blue eyes who approached me earlier raise his hand. My eyes scan the crowd, desperately looking for Griffin’s familiar face. Instead I find Shelly, and she meets my gaze with a knowing smile, a wink, and a small salute as she looks over at the British guy. With a sinking heart, I realize he was the gorgeous blond who asked Shelly about me, not Griffin, and she had assumed he was the one I was looking for. She had never seen Griffin at all!
I try to fight back the panic but I can’t. Griffin is gone, probably lying hurt or dead somewhere, and I’m about to be auctioned off at a kink club. My heart is pounding in my chest and my breathing is coming fast and shallow.
“Mila!” Griffin’s voice, strong and commanding, cuts through the noise of the crowd. I desperately try to find where his voice is coming from, seriously wondering if I’m hallucinating.
“I’m right here,” he says evenly, and I finally see him just a few feet from me in front of the stage. My eyes tear up at the sight of him, safe and sound and HERE. He holds my gaze steadily until my breathing slows.
“Forty-five thousand,” he says as he raises his hand, his eyes never leaving my face. I let out a ragged breath. It’s going to be okay.
“Fifty,” counters the guy with the British accent.
My eyes widen as the bidding between Griffin and the British guy continues, much to the delight of the auctioneer, until the price is at seventy-five thousand dollars. This is ridiculous. Griffin finally seems to have found the British guy’s threshold, and he holds his hands up in deference to Griffin’s final bid.
“Seventy-five thousand dollars for charity!” the auctioneer practically crows. He pauses. “Going once…”
“Eighty thousand,” interjects a familiar cultured voice to the side of the stage.
Dominic? Why on earth would he be bidding for me? He knows I’m here with Griffin. I feel the panic creeping back up my spine again as I consider the possibility of being sold to Dominic. How can Griffin outbid the owner of the club?
“Mila!” Griffin’s voice is sharp and demanding, drawing my gaze automatically back to him. “Eyes on me.”
I nod almost imperceptively. I keep my gaze on him as he continues to counter Dominic’s bids, his golden eyes flashing with determination. The crowd grows almost rowdy as the two seem hell-bent on outbidding each other. Finally, as Griffin raises the bid to one hundred thousand dollars, there is silence. I hold my breath, my eyes still firmly fixed on Griffin.
“One hundred thousand dollars,” the auctioneer announces. “Going once, going twice…” He pauses dramatically, and it takes every ounce of my self-control to not bolt off of the stage. Then, finally he says, “Sold to the gentleman in the front row.”
I stumble forward and Griffin catches me, holding me tightly to his chest as he lifts me off the stage. He sets me down and quickly unhooks my wrists before crushing me to his chest again, his face buried in my hair.
“I have never been so scared in my life,” he says, his voice full of emotion. “When I couldn’t find you, I was afraid something had happened to you.”
“Me too,” I mutter against his chest. There’s so much more to say, so many questions to be answered, but I’m too busy inhaling his scent and relishing the security of his strong arms around me to process anything else.
“C’mon, sweetheart,” he says, pulling away from me to wrap one protective arm around my waist while simultaneously pulling the jacket closed with the other. “You can tell me how you ended up on the auction block later. Right now, let’s go home.”
He leans down and brushes his lips over mine tenderly. At the stairs, we are intercepted by Dominic.
“Going to claim your prize, are you?” he says archly to Griffin. “I certainly don’t blame you.”
Griffin nods curtly, pulling me closer. “I appreciate your hospitality. Even if it did cost me a hundred grand.”
Dominic laughs heartily. “I knew there was no way you would ever allow anyone else to buy her. You can’t blame me for driving up the price of your donation. Besides, it’s a cause close to your heart, is it not?”
Griffin stares at him for a long moment before a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes crosses his face. “Indeed it is,” he says finally. “I’ll have the payment posted to you tomorrow. Thanks again. Goodnight.”
It’s like emerging from an alternate universe when we step out of the crowded, throbbing club into the still, hot, humid night and walk silently to the car. True to form, Griffin opens the door for me, tucking the jacket around me carefully before closing the door, although I can see his eyes darken as he catches a glimpse of what’s hidden underneath. As we pull away from the street where The Pinnacle is located, he rests his hand possessively on my thigh. I find it surprisingly comforting.
“Do you want to go straight back to Emma’s or would you rather stop and get a drink and talk first?” he asks.
“Drink,” I say unhesitatingly. “But I don’t think I’m dressed for it.”
He laughs. “You’ve got a point.” He thinks for a moment and then says, “I’ve got an idea.”
Before long, we’re pulling up in front of the brick warehouse building I recognize as his brother Beckett’s loft. I look at him questioningly.
“No one’s here,” he assures me. “Beckett is at Emma’s, but I’m pretty sure she keeps some clothes here. I’m sure you can find something.”
We take the elevator up to Beckett’s penthouse apartment where Griffin punches in a security code, granting us access to the loft.
“I put in the system for him,” he says with a shrug and a smile.
Once inside, he points me toward Beckett’s room where I find a comfortable pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt tucked into a drawer that is clearly Emma’s.
“How is it that you turn me on wearing yoga pants as much as you do naked in my tuxedo jacket?” he says as I return fully clothed to the living room. “Those tight pants make me have dirty thoughts about your tight little ass.”
My pelvis drops deliciously at the reminder of the more pleasurable part of our evening, and the promise he made about my ass.
“Here,” he says, handing me a glass of red wine.
He lowers himself onto the plush brown leather couch in Beckett’s living room, pulling me down with him so that I am draped across his lap. His arms tighten protectively around me.
“Why didn’t you wait for me in the room like I told you to?” he asks gruffly, the affectionate caress of his rough chin against the top of my head belying his harsh tone.
“I did,” I protest. “I waited for at least fifteen minutes. But then the girl showed up to clean the room so I waited outside for a while, but you still didn’t come. I started thinking maybe Dominic had hurt you somehow.”
He sighs. “Does the fact that I’m a trained Navy SEAL give you any confidence whatsoever in my ability to take care of myself?”
I flush and snuggle closer into his chest. “I guess I wasn’t really thinking about that,” I admit. “I just couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to you,” I add in a whisper.
He grasps my chin and tilts my face up to his, refusing to let me hide. “So you thought you’d come rescue me?” he demands.
“Umm…yeah?” I have to admit it sounds pretty ridiculous.
His eyes soften. “That’s both the dumbest and the sweetest thing I’ve ever heard,” he says, pressing his lips gently to mine.
I sigh and part my lips as his tongue invades the softness of my mouth, the same way he has invaded my heart.
“I should give you the spanking you deserve for blatantly disregarding what I told you to do and putting yourself in jeopardy.”
I look up at him quickly. I think he’s joking, but I’m not positive.
“How did you end up on the auction stage, anyway?”
“I don’t really know,” I say honestly. “I went looking for you, and when I couldn’t find you I asked Shelly if she’d seen you. She said a gorgeous blond had been looking for me and I assumed she was talking about you. She told me to wait by the stage and you’d find me. In retrospect, I think she thought I was trying to hook up with another blond guy who’d asked her about me.”
“The British guy,” Griffin says testily, and I can’t help but hide a little smile.
Then I remember the hundred thousand dollars he just spent.
“Thank you for buying me,” I say, hugging him tightly. “I don’t know what I would have done if someone else had won the bid.”
A shudder runs through me, and Griffin’s arms tighten around me.
“I would never have let that happen,” he says with steely certainty.
“But it was so much money! I’ll pay you back somehow,” I promise.
“You’ll do no such thing,” he says firmly. His voice turns seductive. “I bought you. I own you. You’re not getting off the hook.”
The predatory look in his eyes sends a shiver dancing up my spine. But still, a hundred grand? That’s an insane amount of money.
“How much money do you have?” I ask incredulously.
“Enough to buy the things I want,” he says nonchalantly. His voice takes on a husky rasp. “And I definitely want you.”
I wriggle a little under his penetrating stare and quickly change the subject. “Where were you? What took you so long?”
“I got your bag and passed Dominic’s office as I headed back to the stairs. It was open and empty so I thought I’d take a quick look around and see if I could find anything. Unfortunately, just as I was about to leave a couple stopped just outside of his office and decided to play out a scene there,” he adds drolly. “I had to wait until they were finished so I could leave without anyone seeing me.”
I smile at the thought of him trapped in Dominic’s office listening to a scene just outside the door.
“Then I went looking for you, but you weren’t anywhere. I was starting to panic when I saw you up on the stage.”
“Panicking,” I add with a self-deprecating laugh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cause so much trouble and cost you so much money.”
“Shh,” he says. “I wouldn’t have missed this evening for the world. It was worth every penny.” His finger traces an erotic circle around my breast, and my nipple tightens at his touch. “Plus, I got a beautiful slave girl out of the deal.”
My mouth goes dry. I try to say something, but nothing comes out.
“Let’s stay here tonight,” he suggests. “We can fill Beckett and Emma in tomorrow.”
“Beckett won’t mind?” I ask. I am suddenly exhausted, and the thought of going somewhere else and having to talk to anyone seems overwhelming.
“Not at all,” Griffin assures me.
He effortlessly gets to his feet with me still in his arms. Five minutes later, I’m tucked into bed in Beckett’s guest bedroom, my soft body curled into Griffin’s comfortingly hard one, my head on his shoulders, and I sigh with utter contentment. I am just drifting off when I hear him whisper, “Mine!”
Chapter Nineteen
I wake up to the sound of voices in the living room. I sit up quickly, my groggy brain frantically trying to piece together where I am and how I got here.
“It’s just Beckett and Emma,” Griffin murmurs sleepily, pulling me back down against him.
Memories of the previous night come rushing back.
“Do they know we’re here?” I whisper, suddenly conscious of the fact that I am stark naked under the covers.
“They do,” he affirms, his hand roving up my bare leg and over my bottom. I snuggle closer to him, pressing my body next to his. “I texted Beckett last night to let him know.” He sighs, his hand stilling. “He’s probably dying to know what happened. If I know Beckett, he’s trying to flush us out with bacon and eggs.”
Now that he mentions it, something does smell enticingly good. My stomach growls. Griffi
n laughs as he pushes the covers aside and props himself up on one elbow, leaning over to press a kiss to my belly. I feel that familiar jolt that he’s capable of generating with a single touch.
“We should probably go out there before he decides to come in and drag us out,” he says with a sigh.
The thought of that has me hopping out of bed and scrambling into the yoga pants and t-shirt I’d found in Emma’s drawer last night. Five minutes later, we walk into Beckett’s kitchen just as he is putting four steaming plates of tortillas filled with scrambled eggs, diced bacon, and cheese on the table.
Both he and Emma look up as we walk in.
I gesture at my clothes and say to Emma apologetically, “I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed these. My dress was, umm…” I trail off. “Well, Griffin said you wouldn’t mind,” I finish hastily.
Beckett is looking at me with amusement. “Sounds like an interesting night,” he says drolly, unable to keep the hint of laughter out of his voice. I blush and he graciously lets it go. “Let’s eat,” he says, pulling out a chair for Emma as Griffin simultaneously does the same for me. Emma shoots me a knowing look and winks.
“Did you guys find out anything?” she asks as we devour the breakfast burritos Beckett has made, looking from me to Griffin.
“Actually,” I say between bites. “I ran into Shelly in the restroom at the club and found out what she’d said to Gavin. Apparently, Camille is dating Dominic. Shelly said she’s his sub.”
Both Emma and Beckett freeze, staring at me incredulously.
“What?” Beckett says, his voice lethal.
I remind myself that we’re on the same side and that the deadly look in his eyes is not directed at me. Nonetheless, my voice sounds like a squeak when I say, “Shelly said Dominic and Camille were a thing, both in public and at the club. She said she mentioned it to Gavin the night he attacked Emma, just before they left the club. I’m guessing he didn’t know and that’s what set him off. Maybe he wanted to get the research for himself before Camille and Dominic could.”