Wicked Ride

by Sawyer Bennett

  Sadness fills her eyes, making them shimmer briefly before they shutter closed. Her lips draw down, and, with a regretful sigh, she turns from me to listen in on the conversation Magnus is having with the Cleimdens, a married couple who are into some seriously kinky shit that includes the wife pegging her husband in the ass while he brays like a donkey. I hope to fuck Magnus is not going to let Auralie play with them tonight.

  Turning away, I make my way through the crowd up to the center bar that's circular like the room. A black lacquer top and contemporary chrome stools upholstered in buttery black leather are heavily occupied except for an empty seat right beside Bridger.

  He's sipping on water, ass sitting on the edge of a stool while his foot is propped up on the chrome railing at the bottom of the bar. He rests an elbow casually on top of the bar, but his gaze is pinned on Magnus and Auralie. He's clearly unsettled by the couple as his gaze is wary, but I can tell by the loose set to his shoulders that he's also accepting of their presence. Bridger does not try to curtail the kinky shit that goes on in this establishment as long as all participants are willing and consenting.

  Knowing Bridger as I do, which isn't all that great really because the guy is a complete mystery to most, I'm sure he's thoroughly checked out this Magnus dude as well as ensured Auralie was a willing participant in his shenanigans, contrary to what her eyes have told me in the past.

  "What's up?" I announce my presence behind him with a slight clap of my hand on his back.

  He's not startled because he's Bridger and nothing rattles him, so he merely swivels his body my way and nods. "Not much. What's up with you?"

  I shrug. Not much is up other than my blood pressure and feelings of guilt and anger over the thought of Auralie touching someone else tonight, but I'm not going to tell him that.

  This Bridger notices all in one skilled glance because my emotions are painted clearly on my face, but he tries not to make a big deal out of it. "You seem tense."

  I don't respond but call out to Heather, one of the bartenders, who looks my way. "Maker's Mark... neat."

  "Must be tense," Bridger comments. "You don't ever drink on work nights."

  "I might take the night off," I muse, trying not to get insulted by Bridger's snort of disbelief. Me coming to The Silo and not getting my rocks off is just... unheard of.

  "Seriously," he prods at me. "What's up?"

  Taking the drink, I slug back a hefty swallow and set it back down, enjoying the burn. I shouldn't even bother to engage, and I'm better served by walking out of here and staying away until sweet Auralie is sold off, but I can't fucking help myself.

  "What's the deal with the virgin auction?" I say, carefully veiling my feelings by not even daring to mention I know Auralie's name. I mean, it's hard not to given that everyone is talking about her and her "owner" Magnus--which is a seriously stupid fucking name--but I don't want him to see how affected I am.

  Bridger's head swivels back to Auralie and Magnus, and my gaze follows. I receive a jolt that makes my legs shake as I realize she's staring straight at me. Time seems to stand still as she gives me that wistful look before turning away. Bridger looks at her for just a moment more, and then turns back to me.

  For a moment, I can't even move, but then I tear my gaze away from that pretty pink dress and look back to Bridger, trying to seem unaffected. I'm met with a highly arched eyebrow of curiosity.

  "What?" I say with a belligerent tone. "I'm curious about them, that's all."

  "Have you been fucking her?" he asks in a low voice, leaning in toward me. "Because if he's advertising her as a virgin, someone's going to be disappointed."

  "No, I'm not fucking her," I mutter, but damn... I so wish I were fucking her.

  "That look she just gave you," Bridger says knowingly. "It's carnal."

  "I haven't touched--"

  "Maybe not carnal as in physicality, but you two know each other in some way," he presses.

  Yeah, if you give any credence to silent, wordless communication, then sure... I know her. I know she doesn't belong here selling that sweet pussy to someone, and that I should be the one to have her.

  I think this all in a sullen tone inside my head.

  "You don't have enough money," Bridger says flatly, but not unkindly. He's just trying to make me see reality.

  Oddly, I do have some money if I was so inclined to bid on a virgin, but no one here knows that and besides... it's probably not enough for the amount Auralie will eventually command. So it will continue to sit in my savings untouched... just as it's been for the past two years. As far as anyone here knows, I'm practically a vagrant who wanders the country in search of the next big rush. I've landed in Wyoming and stayed longer here than I have anywhere in the last two years, mainly because I love my job as a fishing guide and I love the unlimited sex that lets me have some measure of solitude. The fact that I live on a permanent campsite in a small tin trailer with wheels that I pull behind my beat-up old Ford truck lends to the air that I'm pretty much penniless. And that's really how I exist. My income is nominal from my job, but it's enough to pay for my campsite, put good food in my belly, and clothing on my back when I need it.

  I don't respond to Bridger's comment about money, but instead I ask, "You sure she's doing this of her own free will?"

  "So she says," he responds. "I talked to her at length, and she was adamant that she was."

  "So she's selling her virginity?" I ask incredulously. I mean, who does that? Fuck... who still has their virginity at her age?

  Which is?

  "How old is she?" I ask hesitantly.

  "Says she's twenty," Bridger says, and I wince. Christ... I'm thirteen years older than she is. Not a huge difference, but enough to know we're probably worlds apart in our emotional mentality.

  And she certainly could pass for twenty.

  But damn... she looks like she sucks cock like a pro, and I remember what it was like when a twenty-year-old would blow me. Most don't know what the fuck they're doing at that age. Women are infinitely better in the sex department as they get older and their confidence grows.

  "If I can have everyone's attention please," I hear called from across the room. The chatter slowly dies down. I'm stunned the announcement comes from Magnus, and he beams out to the patrons with a smarmy smile.

  "What a tool," Bridger mutters, and this confirms what I had suspected.

  He doesn't like the dude any more than I do.

  "As you all know," Magnus says as he picks up a lock of Auralie's hair and brings it to his nose to sniff in dramatic fashion, "my pet here... Auralie... is a young and fresh innocent. Smells so sweet."

  My gaze slides to Auralie. Her face is tilted to the ground, her eyes shyly hiding from the spectacle Magnus is creating. The crowd presses in a little closer to listen to what he has to say.

  "A select few of you have felt the pleasure she can give the past few days, but I want to offer up something different tonight. I'm going to choose one of you lucky men tonight who want to get a crack at something so sweet and pure that you won't be able to think of anything else after. A chance to feast between the lovely Auralie's legs and see that, although she may be virginal, she is more than ready to be pleasured by someone."

  Auralie keeps her face down, but I can see the pink tinge to her cheeks and the tightening of her jaw as he's just offered her pussy up to someone's greedy mouth. I involuntarily stand from my stool, but Bridger claps a hand on my shoulder and growls, "Stay out of it."

  But how can I?

  When my mouth is fucking watering at the chance to eat her out.

  My dick starts to swell at the thought. I give it a frustrated shove over in my jeans to get it out from behind my zipper, but I refuse to sit back down on my stool. Bridger's hand falls away from me, but he stands up on high alert. I think he's afraid I might run over to her, pick her up, and throw her over my shoulder like a caveman to jet out of here with my virginal prize.

  Instead, I pick up my drink an
d slug the rest of it back, slamming the highball glass down on the bar top. Heather walks over and looks at me with eyebrows raised.

  "Another," is all I say.

  In the meantime, Magnus, with his captive crowd and blossoming beauty ready to be devoured, looks around contemplatively at the potential customers he wants to milk for semen and money. Finally, his eyes come to rest on Jacob Johnson, a local lawyer who made a fortune suing pharmaceutical companies for several years while he practiced in L.A. The rumor is his last settlement yielded a twenty-million-dollar fee, so he retired and owns several homes around the United States. He spends the summer months here in Wyoming, fucking most nights at The Silo.

  While he's generally a nice guy and we once got our dicks sucked together by the same girl who alternated between the two of us while we shot the shit, I hate him right at this moment as he steps up to Magnus and shakes his hand with a grateful smile.

  "How about you take her into The Orgy room?" Magnus suggests with a sweep of his hand that way.

  There are only five people in there right now. Two guys lying on a silk mattress kissing and caressing each other, not in a hurry to get it on just yet. And a threesome going at it... guy fucking a girl from behind while she sucks another guy's dick.

  Been there done that.

  Several times.

  I watch as Jacob takes his hand and wraps it behind Auralie's neck, giving her a subtle push toward the hallway that leads to the back doorways to the rooms. He pushes her along, not roughly but with command, as if he's confident in his abilities. But I've watched him eat pussy before. He's sloppy at best and won't give her what she deserves.

  My fingers itch to do something, but I'm not sure what.

  Heather returns with my drink and I take it from her, knocking it back in one long swallow that burns my guts up but gives me a slight head rush. I don't do liquor very well anymore.

  She starts to turn away, but I say, "Hold up."

  Heather stops and looks expectantly at me. I turn to Bridger, who is facing me again now that Auralie has been led away. I tell him, "I need to borrow Heather for a bit."

  Bridger just shakes his head with a flat line to his lips, not denying my request but rather empathizing with my poor, fucked-up head.

  "Go ahead," he says, and Heather's eyes light up.

  She and I are very well acquainted with each other, and she's a favorite fuck of mine. I jerk my head toward The Orgy Room and say, "Let's go."

  "Absolutely," she says with a grin as she walks toward the other side of the bar that houses the swinging pass through so she can exit.

  Chapter 4

  Auralie

  Oh, shit.

  Shit, shit, shit.

  I cannot do this.

  I. Cannot. Fucking. Do. This.

  The man who Magnus called Jacob keeps his hand firmly on my neck as he guides me to the back hallway that leads to the entrances to the glassed rooms.

  The Orgy Room?

  My skin crawls thinking about having a complete stranger do something so intimate to me. For reasons that I'm sure are completely fucked up, I found I could turn off my emotional switch when Magnus made me blow those other two guys. That was a job and nothing else.

  It was acting at its finest.

  No different than pulling a change-raising short con.

  But now he's talking about letting a man--a stranger-- attempt to pleasure me in a way that I've never had done before. I'm very aware as to how my clit functions, as well as its response to stimulation. I've never had a man's lips and tongue there before, but I have a trusty vibrator that makes short work of me and I'm terrified as to how I'll respond.

  I'll either be so wigged out that I'll stay dry as the desert and embarrass myself, probably ruining my sale value, or I'll react like a shrieking banshee because my clit is so sensitive, and I'll embarrass myself. It's a no-win situation.

  On top of that, the beautiful man is here and I don't want him watching me. I can't bear to have him watch me react, or possibly not, and the humiliation will be awful.

  Or, the worst of all things that could possibly happen is that the beautiful man watching me could cause me to have a reaction that would be unforgiveable. He'd know I was more turned on by him watching me than what was actually being done to me.

  I just can't.

  "Wait," I say suddenly as he starts me down the perimeter hallway, which is dimly lit with wall sconces about every ten feet.

  "What?" he says, using his grip on my neck to turn me to him.

  We're completely hidden from the patrons on the interior of The Silo, as well as the members of each room since the back wall of said rooms is made out of concrete staves that match the exterior. I take a deep breath, knowing Magnus is not going to be happy with me, and say, "I'm on my period... you can't."

  Total ballsy lie, but it's all I got. I hope to God he doesn't ask for proof.

  "You're fucking kidding me, right?" he mutters, his hand falling away from my neck.

  I shake my head a little too enthusiastically, my voice raising an octave. "No... it started this afternoon. I had no clue Magnus was going to offer this to the men here, or I would have told him."

  I sort of expect him to be a little more put out over the wasted opportunity, but instead, he grabs me by the back of the neck again, not roughly but more in a controlling way, and says, "No worries. I'll take a blow job. I was going to get one anyway when I was done, right?"

  Before I can respond, he starts to push me down the hall again. The heels of my feet instinctively dig into the concrete flooring, bringing me to a stop. "Wait--"

  "For fuck's sake, what now?" he growls, his hand gripping me a little harder, which causes my heart to start pounding.

  "Is there a problem here?" I hear from behind us, and I don't even need to turn around to know who it is. While I've never heard his voice before, I know without a doubt it's the beautiful man standing behind us.

  Jacob whips around, spinning me with him since he doesn't let me go. My first close-up look at the man who is softly washed in the glow of the sconces is almost too much to take in. He's just perfection, and his eyes are pinned right on me. I vaguely notice he has a woman with him... one of the bartenders, it seems... and he's holding her hand. But what I notice most is the hard glint in his eyes and the way his jaw is locked so tight that a tiny muscle jumps in the lower portion of his cheek. While his gaze seems full of anger, I inherently know it's not directed at me.

  This is confirmed when he slices his eyes to Jacob and says, "I repeat... what's going on?"

  "None of your fucking business, McKay," Jacob bites out, his fingers gripping me even harder as if I'm his favorite toy and he's afraid the neighbor kid is going to take it.

  And McKay? That's his name?

  The beautiful man--McKay--drops the woman's hand he's with and takes two steps to bring himself almost toe to toe with Jacob. His voice is low and commanding when he says, "She looked like she didn't want to go with you, and you know Bridger's rules... she has to consent."

  Oh, fuck.

  I have no say in this really. Sure, I had a very awkward conversation with the owner, Bridger, a few days ago when he grilled me for affirmation I was here of my own free will. Another fine acting job was completed when he seemed to accept my lies.

  "She's on the rag," Jacob mutters. "So I'm getting a dick suck instead."

  "Nice," McKay mutters sarcastically, and his eyes slide down to mine. "You want to go with him?"

  His first words spoken to me. Even if he hadn't voiced a single syllable, he could have looked at me with that same question in his eyes and I would have known just what he was asking.

  My expression back to him is pointed. Eyebrows knitted with tension, biting hard on my lower lip with unease and eyes filled with a desperate plea for help, I still manage to say, "Yes."

  Because that's what Magnus would expect of me.

  McKay stares at me for a long moment, seemingly undecided as to which answer he
should deem as the truth. Even though there's nothing he can do to stop my fate, I hope he accepts my silent answer as the one I mean, so he knows I want nothing to do with this creep. I wonder if he can also glean just by my look that I would have gladly gone into that room with him.

  "Auralie." I hear Magnus' cultured voice behind McKay, who is so tall and broad shouldered I hadn't seen Magnus walk up. "What's going on?"

  Before I can answer, McKay turns to Magnus and says, "She's not feeling well. You can take one look at her and tell."

  Thank God he didn't give my "period" lie to Magnus. Magnus would demand an inspection for proof because he'd be pissed I was messing up his grand display of showmanship and superiority.

  Magnus' gaze cuts to me, and in a tight voice that he tries to pass off as concerning but doesn't quite make it, he asks, "Auralie, love... is that true?"

  I give a slight nod, trying to look pathetically sick, but I know I come off as terrified of how this situation has gotten out of control. When I risk a look up to McKay, I see that muscle in his cheek jumping harder as he takes in the fear in my eyes.

  With a surprising amount of humility that I wouldn't have guessed this big, powerful man would possess, but with complete manipulation that I admire, he turns to Magnus and says, "With all due respect, sir... perhaps you should let her rest tonight. She's put on quite a show the last few nights, and you've admirably whipped up everyone in here. It's been a real treat to watch for sure. And if she doesn't make an appearance tonight, it's only going to increase every man's appetite for her."

  Magnus looks at McKay. For someone who regularly takes advantage of and manipulates people, he still immediately buys into the flattery that McKay gives to him. His chest puffs out a bit, and he says, "You have an excellent point."

  Jacob's hand falls away as he growls in frustration. McKay looks right at me, but he says, "Jacob... why don't you and Heather head into the Orgy Room? I'm sure she'll make things better for you."

  "Yeah, fine," he mutters, but as he reaches past me to grab Heather's hand, who looks just as happy to be going with Jacob as she was with McKay--weird girl--he looks to Magnus and says, "I want another crack at her though before you make the sale. I'm going to make a serious bid you don't want to miss."