Chapter 3

CHAPTER

THREE

ALIDA

“Where the hell did you get a hundred thousand dollars?” I hiss the words at Fox, hoping the resentment masks my relief as he leads me up a winding staircase and away from the auction room. I want to be angry with him for completely contradicting me and coming to my rescue, but the alternative makes me nearly hurl on the marble stairs.

“You could try thank you,” he says, his voice low as his grip tightens on my forearm. To the outside observer, it might look as though he’s captured his prey and is only determined that I’m not getting away. But I know the truth. His firm grip is the only thing keeping me upright.

What the hell I was thinking?

This auction idea seemed fun and innocent enough in the dressing room when Janelle helped me pick out a sparkly red dress sure to wow the crowd of bidders. One that made me feel like I was worth the highest price tag. A luxury item. I loved how I looked—and how I felt —in this dress.

Until I took the stage.

Reality hit me like a hard slap in the face.

The greedy, predatory gazes of the men in the front row will forever be burned into my brain. There was nothing gentlemanly about the wolves in suits. My stomach does a sickening flop at the memory of those paddles flying, the numbers climbing higher at an alarming rate. The higher the price tag, the more they’ll expect. How did I not recognize that simple statement for the warning it was?

The men here are ridiculously attractive—Janelle wasn’t lying about that detail. The bidding war should have been flattering. Never in my life has any man—let alone half a dozen—gone into competition over me. But with each bid, I felt dirtier. Like a thousand showers wouldn’t be enough to cleanse me of this terrible decision.

Now all I want to do is burn this damn dress.

I steal a quick side glance at Fox as we round a corner, confused as hell why he’s at this place. It’s not the secret wealth that throws me. It’s him. Though I’d only ever met him in person once, Brett talked about his best friend with the highest regard. The man my brother described wouldn’t be caught dead in a place that auctioned off women for pleasure.

“You wasted your money, you know.”

I’m jerked to a halt as Fox stops outside a door with the gold-plated number eleven hanging at eye level. I stare at my reflection in the shiny metal as the lock clicks and Fox pushes the door open. His hot breath tickles my ear as he says, “I haven’t wasted a dime, sweetheart.”

The words that should make me want to bolt instead send a naughty shiver throughout my body. Would it be so terrible… I shove away the inappropriate thought that’s only a product of the adrenaline rushing through my veins, and step into the dark room.

I hear the door shut half a second before dim light showers the bedroom in an incandescent glow, revealing a horror show of sexual pleasure. The type of stuff that terrifies me just reading about it in books. To witness it in person is…indescribable. I’d heard excitable whispers about BDSM while in the dressing room, but until this moment, I hadn’t believed any of them.

A red velvet chair with arms draped in whips and leather restraints sits in one corner. A sex swing hangs from the high ceiling. Something that looks like the sawhorses used to cut wood stands in the center of the room, covered in a black leather cushion and restraints. But it’s the bed, with its dungeon-like headboard that makes me gulp a hard swallow.

“What is this place?”

“What kind of auction did you think this was?” Fox’s tone is part frustration, part compassion. If I weren’t so sick to my stomach, I’d tell him to knock it the fuck off. The last thing I want is his pity.

I run my fingers over a bundle of soft black rope, examining it. My entire body crawls at the thought of any of the men in the front row using it to tie me to that dungeon bed. Had Janelle ever mentioned the BDSM detail when she encouraged me to sign up for this?

“Alida?”

The gentleness in his tone nearly breaks me. The weight of what almost happened to me tonight is feeling heavier by the second, and I just need a minute to fall apart. No amount of money is worth this. Not to me. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to crack in front of Fox Hansen and let him think I’m some sort of damsel in distress who needs any more rescuing.

I shove down my tangle of emotions, summoning the mask of a woman who’s not the least bit rattled, and do my damnedest to inject some humor into the situation. “It’s like a damn sex dungeon in here.”

“You didn’t know?”

“Guess I didn’t read the fine print,” I mumble, flashing him a fake smile.

“Dammit Alida, I hope you’re joking.” Fox runs a hand through his hair, messing it up. Making him sexy in a way that isn’t fucking fair. A flash of me combing my fingers through that same hair as I sit in his lap catches me off guard. Despite how much of a pain in the ass this man has been in my life since my brother died, I never found him lacking in the good looks category. The man could melt panties with one seductive glance. A hum of chemistry has always crackled in the air between us, no matter how much I’ve wanted to deny it.

It only makes this whole mess all the more confusing. I shouldn’t want the man I swore to hate. But I bet the sex would be electrifying.

I turn away from Fox, picking up a silk blindfold from the dresser to distract myself, desperately trying to get my buzzing body under control. It has to be the adrenaline that’s scrambling my brain tonight, because the last thing I should be thinking about is anything sexual with Fox.

“Alida?”

“I skimmed it,” I say with a shrug. When I signed the electronic contract, I’d been on a break at the hospital. But when one of my patients had an emergency, I skipped straight to the bottom of what I’d been reading, signed it, and hit send as I rushed down the hall. I didn’t want to give myself the opportunity to chicken out.

Now I see the stupidity of that impulsive decision.

“You know that for the six-figure price tag you raked in, you’re basically at the mercy of your bidder, right?”

For a single beat, fear seizes me. Fox bought me. If he wanted to have his way with me in this crazy sex dungeon, he could. A shiver runs down my spine, a bizarre combination of panic and thrill I’m not ready to unpack. “Are you?—”

“Am I what , Alida?”

I glance at the red velvet chair, and I’m assaulted by a vision of me sitting in it naked, legs draped over its arms to spread me open wide, with Fox kneeling between my thighs. The nausea I’ve been feeling since I left the stage transforms to something else entirely, and I don’t hate the feeling. Would it be so terrible…

I lick my lower lip nervously. “ You paid six figures for me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” The force of his words causes my gaze to flicker to his, and in those whiskey brown eyes, I see such anger—such disbelief. “I’m not going to touch you, Alida. How could you even think that?”

His words sting, which is unexpected. What the fuck, Alida? “I can’t pay you back, Fox.”

“I know.”

I want to ask why he brought me up to this room if he doesn’t have any intention of touching me, but the words are lodged in my throat. I don’t know how to ask the question without sounding like he’s hurt my feelings. Which is completely stupid. Because I don’t want Fox in that way.

Liar .

I shouldn’t want Fox.

So why do you?

Ugh, shut up brain!

I clear my throat, shoulders squaring of their own accord as my chin tilts upward. “Then what do you want from me, Fox?”

“A favor.”

The sparkly red dress suddenly feels itchy. A lump forms in my throat but I clear it before asking, “What kind of favor?”

“Why don’t you change—take a shower if you want—and we’ll talk afterward.”

Another layer of my composure returns at the suggestion of ridding myself of this god-awful dress. “Why do I have the feeling I won’t enjoy this favor very much?”

“I’d promise you that you won’t hate it, but I don’t like to lie.” The sly barely-there grin does funny things to my already misbehaving insides as I move toward the bathroom door in the corner of the room, reaching behind my back for the elusive zipper of this sparkly red prison.

As my fingers fail to reach it, I remember Janelle zipping me up in the dressing room.

“Fox?”

“Need a little help?” He’s suddenly close, his breath tickling the back of my neck, causing very naughty shivers to travel throughout my body. For a moment, I almost forget he basically rejected the very idea of touching me—almost.

I’ve done a lot of stupid things today, but the stupidest one I do is look over my shoulder at him. Because when my gaze locks with his, I forget all about this shitty situation. I forget where I’m at. I forget that I’m supposed to hate this man who reminds me of losing by brother. I forget my damn name when his knuckle brushes my skin as he gently tugs my zipper down.

“Fox?” When I say his name this time, my voice is raspy. It’s not a question so much as an invitation.

“No, Alida.”

I turn away to hide my reddening cheeks, refusing to feel the full brunt of embarrassment as I shoot back, “Because you can’t get it up?”

He leans closer, his lips brushing the shell of my ear as he says, “This isn’t a game you’re going to win, Alida. But make no mistake. I could make you come apart with one single flick of my tongue.”