Chapter 5

Tara

"How dare you." Stella storms over and slaps me across the face. "You fucking cheated!"

"Dmitri, please remove Stella from the property." Mr. Hudson casually strides over to us with his head down. None of the contestants have made it past the foyer of the club, and I'm still naked, clutching my dress to my chest to hide myself from all the dagger eyes aimed at me.

"What? No!" Stella back tracks as Dmitri closes in on her. "You can't kick me out."

"We have a strict no violence policy here, Stella." Mr. Hudson's back hides her completely from my view as he shields me. The elation of becoming the Butterfly has already morphed into fear and guilt. Stella and the others might be upset that I won, but that's the way it goes. And as far as I know, there's nothing that says you can't go up there naked. Instead of playing on the mystery of what's under my gown, I showed them exactly what I'm built with.

If that's cheating. Oh well. I'd do it again in a heartbeat.

Sex clubs are the same as any other business. You're either a lion or a mouse.

I'm not a fucking mouse.

Besides, it's not like the members were bidding to fuck me. They were donating to a charity and gifting me the chance at a few nights of fun with someone else.

I hardly see why my winning is such a problem. Swiftly stepping back into my dress, I safety pin together the straps I'd cut on purpose for my bold move on stage.

Mr. Hudson shoves his hands in his pockets and remains fixed on Stella. "Had anyone laid a violent hand on you, without your consent, they would suffer the same consequences you are right now. Get the fuck out of my club."

Stella argues and screams and cries as Dmitri escorts her to the door. "My husband will not stand for this bullshit, Ryker. Fuck you!"

There's tension in Mr. Hudson's shoulders when she calls him by his first name. That's a major rule here—He's Mr. Hudson or Sir. Not even his friends call him Ryker that I know of.

The door shuts, cutting off Stella's screeches as Dmitri escorts her off the property. The rest of the room plummets into icy silence.

"The Butterfly's boldness will cost her," Mr. Hudson says to the other women. His dark gaze cuts to me and I almost shrink back. "Thank you for putting yourselves on display tonight, ladies. The money you raised is tremendous and will make a great impact on others less fortunate than yourselves."

No one says a nasty word. In fact, their attitudes lighten.

Then they all start purring and flirting, smiling and melting. "Of course, Mr. Hudson. It's a privilege to be a contestant at all."

"I'll happily try again in six months. This was so fun."

"What a wonderful cause. Tonight was great, Mr. Hudson, thank you so much."

I'm sure no one else wants to risk Stella's fate, but the ass kissing is giving me second-hand embarrassment for them.

Deseri sidesteps Mr. Hudson and comes straight at me. "Congratulations, girl." She gives me a hug that's about as fake as her eyelashes and tits. "Enjoy being the Butterfly."

"Yeah," says Jessie with a pouty lip. "Guess it's good you can't compete again, so maybe I'll have my shot next time."

"That's a good girl," Mr. Hudson says, tipping Jessie's chin up. "How about you and the others enjoy the penthouse tonight? My treat. I'll send some of my staff to spoil you."

That seems to appease her. "Thank you, Mr. Hudson."

Well, now I want to know what the hell's in the penthouse.

"Butterfly." He turns and holds out his arm for me to take. "Allow to me escort you to your new quarters."

After a shaky exhale, I loop my arm in his and we leave. He doesn't say a word to me. Not when we cross the club. Not when we're in the elevator. Not when we arrive at the Butterfly Suite.

But the instant the door shuts, he yanks off his bow tie and starts pacing. "You're going to cost me a lot of fucking money, Miss Reed."

Two million-two-hundred thousand dollars, to be exact.

I'm floored he bid on me, honestly. If he's never bid on a Butterfly before, it makes me feel special that I was the one he had to have. "I didn't expect you to—"

"Shut your fucking mouth and let me think." He fists his hair, ruining its perfect style. Just before I can snap back, there's a knock on the door. "Damnit." He rushes over and swings it open. "Get in here. Fast."

While I'm still trying to understand why Mr. Hudson's making such a big deal about this, a line of men file into the room. Panic takes hold because although they're all spectacular and here for me to choose from, none look happy about it.

My pussy dries up on the spot.

Victory only feels good when it's rightfully earned. Shame assaults me. I should have never made that deal with Mr. Hudson.

And now I can't back out of it.

Dmitri storms into the room last, taking his place at the end of the line. Seven men and two women stare at me, waiting for me to make a choice.

"As the Butterfly," Mr. Hudson says, "the master, or masters, you choose will be who you obey for the entire month. You must live in this suite, and we'll have all your personal effects brought here for the duration of your stay."

Wait. Whoa. A month? I didn't realize it was that long. And to admit how little I truly knew about being the Butterfly would only make me look like a fool now. "What about work?"

Mr. Hudson's sinful mouth curls into a wry smile. "Surely you knew the conditions of being the Butterfly before you went through all the effort to become one?"

Shit. Shit. SHIT.

I didn't realize I'd be a prisoner in the club. I thought the Butterfly had free rein in all rooms of the club at her leisure. But if I can't get to work tomorrow, I'm royally fucked. I may have evaded my stepfather today, but that won't fly a second time.

How am I going to get out of the hole I've just dug myself into? Fuck.

"Make your selection, Butterfly."

He never answered my question about work.

"Quickly, Miss Reed, we have a club to run."

"I…" Glancing at the lineup of Doms, my mouth runs dry. I'm in over my head, which is absolutely my worst toxic trait. I always get myself into situations I later wish I hadn't. But if I'm honest, there is only one man in this room that makes my regrets tolerable.

"You." I turn and face him. "I choose you, Mr. Hudson."

He won't even look at me. "I'm not in the line."

Confusion rattles my voice. "But… you bid on me."

"It's a charity, Miss Reed. Every man out there bid tonight, and none of them are in this room. It's not the winner who chooses who the Butterfly gets as a Dom. She's choses that for herself, which is a privilege, I might add, that was paid for by the bidder. Now choose from the Doms presented, Butterfly, I have work to do."

I'm not budging on this. "I chose already. I want you as my Dom." When he opens his sexy mouth to argue with me again, I get in his face. "You're a Dom, too, Sir. And you're in this room. You paid for me to win and for the privilege of picking who I want. If it's the Butterfly's choice, then you have my final answer."

Someone snorts from the other side of the room. Dmitri ducks his head, so I assume it was him.

The one named Vault gets this lopsided grin on his face next to him.

Two more are giving each other Oh shit smirks.

Dmitri clears his throat. "According to club rules, any Dom in the room is available." His mischievous gaze flicks at Mr. Hudson. "You've just never been in the room while she's chosen before, Sir."

Someone else fights back a small laugh and it looks like Mr. Hudson wants to beat them all to a pulp. His face turns red and the veins in his temples stick out.

"You've made your choice then," he says in a growl. "Everyone, get back to work."

Dmitri is the last one out the door. Just before he closes it, he flashes a smile in our direction and mumbles, "Have fun, you two."

The door closes and we're plunged into an airless, soundless space that seems to have become an anti-gravity chamber because I swear, I'm floating.

"You didn't have to bid," I whisper like a little mouse.

"And you didn't have to get naked."

"You said to be bold."

His jaw clenches. We stare at each other and the urge to kiss him is strong. But I can't. I won't. Not until I know he won't strangle me for putting him in this position.

My heart thuds in my tightening throat. "Is being my Dom so awful?"

He doesn't answer.

Now I'm pissed. "You didn't have to stay in the room." I toss my hands in the air. "You could have let Dmitri or someone else escort me here while you went back to ruling over your club. No one forced you to stay."

I don't believe for once second that he doesn't remember what his own motherfucking club rules are. He stayed on purpose, whether he'll admit it or not.

We glare at each other for a long time.

I'm not scared of him. I think Mr. Hudson is all bark, no bite, and if I'm wrong, I don't think I'll mind letting him sink his teeth into me.

"Why did you do this?" He seethes. "You've set me up and I want to know why."

I've done no such thing. "I only wanted to be Butterfly. Last night I saw an opportunity, and I took it."

"An opportunity to tear down what I've built." He slowly prowls over to me.

"I'm not here for your club. I'm only here to learn about myself."

"You don't need to be the Butterfly to do that, Miss Reed." He's dangerously close to me now. "Why couldn't you have just walked away from that building?"

"For reasons that no longer matter since we made this deal."

His eyes darken. "Until you tell me the truth, I will not make this a pleasant experience for you, Tara."

My heart skitters to a stop. Keeping my expression impassive and voice calm, I tip my chin up and deadpan him. "I told you the truth."

He'd never hurt me. It's against his rules. I'm also certain it's against his nature. He's just lashing out because he's mad I got the best of him.

Mr. Hudson holds my gaze for a long time, then he exhales in a half-growl and steps away from me. "I'll have a driver take you back to your house. You'll have fifteen minutes to pack your things. You will not have access to your cell phone during your stay here."

The club has a strict no cell rule, but how the hell is that supposed to work if I'm here for a month?

Ryker pulls out an envelope from the breast pocket of his tux. "This is an NDA you must sign before you leave this suite. Take your time going over it. If you chose to not sign it, the woman who came in second during the ceremony will become the new Butterfly. Since you won this time, you cannot be in the ceremony ever again, which means this is your one and only chance."

He heads to the door while I'm left holding the NDA in my clammy hand.

I feel like he hates me. And maybe he has a right to, considering I put him on the line and made him bend his morals to put me in this position. I live in a dog-eat-dog world, and part of me assumed he did too.

No one knows anything about Ryker Hudson other than he started an elite sex club and has become extremely wealthy from it. But no one in the sex business is an overnight success.

Unless you're the Butterfly.

I can't help but want to scratch at this man's hard exterior to see how the self-made millionaire has done so well, so fast. I'm guessing he's about the same age as me and even with my family's name, I don't have his prestige.

Then again, I'm a woman. We always have to work harder to get less.

When he reaches the door, I suddenly feel awful for things that shouldn't matter. "I'm sorry," I say. "I should have never exploited your weakness for my gain."

Mr. Hudson halts mid exit. Then he looks over his shoulder. "I have no weakness, Miss Reed. The only thing you've exploited is yourself with that stunt you just pulled."

"I only wanted to be the Butterfly." The rest of my confession dies on my tongue when he faces me again.

"So does every other woman in here, Tara. You had no right to demand special treatment."

"And you had every opportunity to refuse me." If he thinks he can make me feel shitty for what I've done, he doesn't know who he's dealing with. I'm kicked down daily by my family and peers and especially myself. Mr. Hudson will have to sharpen his tongue if he ever wants to cut me. "You also didn't have to bid on me."

I'd already won without him doing that and we both know it.

Ryker's jaw clenches and I swear he's going to crack his molars with how hard he's chomping down on them. Without saying another word, he wrenches the door open and slams it shut behind him.