Seal'd Auction

by Charlotte Byrd

  My first thought was that the man who walked through was far more attractive than I would have thought. Hell, he was a lot better looking than any of the men I had ever dated back in my old life. His face was hard, angular, but with eyes that spoke of a deep kindness below the tough exterior. His suit was exquisitely tailored, hugging every bulging muscle. I used to hate men’s suits. I felt like they covered up all sorts of deficiencies while women’s formal clothes offered no room to hide. But there was not a single flaw on that body. I began to smile warmly at him when my jaw dropped.

  I knew him.

  He was one of Kovalev’s men. Jason.

  I was speechless. He lived in my apartment building. There was no way he was the one who bid on me. He certainly didn’t have that kind of money. Was he just here to make sure I didn’t try to run away? Was he going to be delivering me to the bidder?

  “Do you have anything else? We need to go,” he said in a tight, breathless voice.

  “I, uh, what are you talking about?”

  “I placed the bid, ok? And now I want to head out. Quick.”

  He was tight, that was clear. Could he be telling the truth? The place looked like it had good security, so he probably wouldn’t have been allowed back here if he wasn’t the winning bidder.

  “How do you have that kind of money?” I blurted out.

  Before he could answer, the door opened behind him. I saw him tense, as if he anticipated an attack. I felt my own heartrate jump. But the person opening the door was just the severe woman.

  “Will you be needing anything else, Mr. Phillips?” she asked in a honeyed voice. A smile melted her icy features as she looked at him. It was quite a transformation.

  “No, thank you,” he responded. “Oh, is there an exit through this area? I parked around back.”

  “Of course, sir. Just go out that door and then follow the hallway to the left.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Oh, no. Thank you, Mr. Phillips.”

  The door closed behind her and I realized my mouth was hanging open. I snapped it shut before Jason noticed.

  “Ok, let’s go.” He took my arm in his hand and pulled me along, striding quickly to the door and down the hallway. We were in his car, roaring down the empty street before I knew it.

  The buildings along the street went by in a blur. We didn’t speak a word, the rumble of the engine providing all of the soundtrack. My relief at having such a good-looking guy be the one who bid for me had overwhelmed any sense of discomfiting worry about the circumstances. Questions that should have kept poking at me, like how a guy who lived in my apartment building had so much money, were pushed into the back of my mind. Instead, I started to get excited about the prospect of having a night with someone who didn’t make me want to retch every time I saw him. If I was going to have a brief escape from the dull horror of life as Kovalev’s girl, locked in that apartment, I was going to enjoy it.

  I was so excited, I barely noticed that we pulled up to a motel that was far below the standards one would expect for so expensive a night. Frankly, it was crap. But that didn’t matter. The car came to a halt right in front of one of the first-floor rooms. Apparently, Jason had already booked the room. It seemed strange in retrospect, but I barely noticed at the time. He took me by the hand and led me through the door into the sparely furnished, poorly lit room.

  As soon as the door closed behind us, his mouth was on mine. His lips sought mine eagerly. They were soft and firm at the same time, insistent and tempting. His left hand found its way to the small of my back and pulled me close against his rock-hard body. I could feel his erection pressing hard against my hip. A little rush of blood surged to my skin. I felt flushed, eager.

  Jason’s right hand wound around the hair on the back of my head. He tightened his grip, just hard enough to excite all of the nerve endings in my scalp. He pulled my head back, opening my mouth to deeper kisses.

  After a moment that seemed to last all night, we both broke away. He had a hunger in his eyes that matched the one I felt deep inside me. He whipped off his jacket and I stepped forward to begin undoing his button-down shirt. Then he reached behind me and slowly unzipped my gown. It fell to the floor in a pile around my feet. He stared at me for a moment. I thought I would have felt awkward, but he had such lust and desire in his eyes that I felt like a sex goddess. I was grateful for the new underpants I had gotten for that night. Not that they were going to be on much longer.

  Jason undid his pants and dropped them to the floor. His hard cock was bursting out of his boxer briefs. He stepped forward and wrapped his arms around my waist, lifting me into the air and burying his head between my breasts. I felt him breathe in and plant soft little kisses, each one sending electric shivers across my skin.

  We landed on the bed and he began kissing me on my stomach, moving quickly down past my waist. I took a deep breath as he looped his fingers around the waistband of my panties and then pulled them off, lifting my legs straight into the air. The air felt cool between my legs because I was so wet. He settled in with his arms around my legs, hands gripping my hips. I grabbed a fistful of his hair as his lips and tongue sent me into convulsions. I needed him inside me. I pulled a little harder on his hair and he quickly got the message.

  In an instant, he was on his knees between my thighs. His firm, straight cock pointed right where I wanted it to go. I reached out and wrapped both hands around it, guiding him into me. The pleasure was so exquisite I almost forgot to breathe. I buried my face in his neck and wrapped my legs around his waist, pulling him as deep as I could take.

  It didn’t take long for us both to come. A radiating, pulsating wave of pleasure exploded from deep inside me. I let out a low moan that I barely recognized as my own voice. A moment later, I heard Jason start to grunt and breathe deep. Then I felt him shudder inside me and his body went rigid. We collapsed beside each other on the scratchy sheets in that cheap motel room and fell asleep immediately.

  Chapter 9 - Jason

  I was out of bed before the sunrise. Claire lay sleeping soundly, her arm flung up over her head. I smiled a little at her. She was so elegant, beautiful, sexy. Now she lay with her limbs all bent in every direction, mouth half open, and hair strewn unkempt across the pillow. I hadn’t planned on sleeping with her. It just happened. The whole night was a mess in my head. I felt like I had woken up from a strange dream, except the dream girl was still in my bed.

  The reality of the situation we were now in hit me hard. I had stolen from my boss. Used his own money to buy this girl, with no intention of giving her back to him. I knew what happened to people who did stuff like that to Kovalev. I had done it to them.

  Claire didn’t know. She must suspect that something is up, but we barely exchanged more than a few words all night. I was too caught up in the moment, in the feeling of having her, possessing her, feeling her in my arms. I didn’t want to spoil it.

  But the cold light of dawn had a way of stripping away all the illusions of the night. And the reality that the quickly brightening sky illuminated was that we were going to have to go on the run. How was I going to explain it to her? Part of me expected that she was going to be grateful. I mean, I had rescued her from her life in that apartment building where she barely ever went outside, and when she did it was only with a minder. She had been a prisoner, and I had freed her.

  I was convincing myself of the nobility of my act when it occurred to me that I should take a look outside. As unlikely as it was that anyone had noticed something amiss this early, I wanted to be sure that we would be in the clear when Claire got up and we got the hell out of town. Quietly, I opened the door and slipped outside. It was one of those cheap motels where the doors opened right into the parking lot. My car was parked, facing out, right in front of the door. A quick scan of the parking lot revealed no new vehicles since we arrived late last night. A few had departed, but no suspicious newcomers. I allowed myself to relax a little.

  There was a Starbucks ac
ross the street and I decided I would grab myself and Claire a cup of coffee and maybe some breakfast. There was already a line when I walked in. I waited patiently, listening to a couple in front of me. It was barely dawn, and they were already arguing about the next leg of their trip. They must be fellow lodgers at the motel. It did not seem to presage a pleasant drive, wherever they were going.

  When I finally had the coffee and bag of croissants in hand, the sun had come fully above the horizon, bathing the motel and parking lot in yellow light. I crossed the street and took a few steps into the parking lot before coming to a dead stop. There was a new car parked in the back. It was a black Chevy Tahoe with dark-tinted windows. I set the coffee and pastries down on the ground and slipped behind one of the other cars, trying to get a clear view of my room. The door was still closed. Probably a good sign.

  Then I saw him.

  A tall, thick guy in jeans and a leather jacket, his dark brown hair pulled back in a greasy ponytail. I didn’t recognize him as one of Kovalev’s security guys, but that didn’t mean anything.

  He was walking toward my room.

  I moved quickly. I knew there was a risk that there were more guys in the SUV, but I had to deal with the threat in front of me. I padded across the parking lot silently, staying directly behind him.

  He had almost reached the door when I got close enough.

  I took aim at the back of his knee just as he planted his foot, kicking forward and buckling his leg. He crumpled down, his bulk landing squarely on his kneecap. No permanent damage, but painful as hell. Before he could turn, I took one of his outstretched hands and twisted it behind his back, using my other hand to clasp his mouth and muffle his shouts of pain.

  When he had calmed down sufficiently and stopped resisting, I released my hand from his mouth.

  “Who the fuck are you and who sent you?” I growled lowly.

  “I guess you are Jason,” the man grunted. “Fucking Collins told me you were twitchy, but fuck, man.”

  Sergeant Collins. Why had he sent someone after me? He wouldn’t want me dead. I released the man’s hand and watched him fall forward, catching himself with his other hand and rolling onto his side to look up at me.

  “Talk.”

  “Collins told me to follow you last night,” he said through ragged breaths. “When I told him where you were and who you were with, he sent me back to warn you.”

  “So, warn me.” I knew I shouldn’t be so gruff, especially to a guy I had just put in a very painful situation, but I was pissed off that I had been followed. Even more pissed off that I hadn’t noticed.

  “He said Kovalev was looking for you last night. Said he was furious that you weren’t there. And that he was asking questions about who had bid on his girl. It won’t take long for him to figure out it was you.”

  “Tell Collins I appreciate his concern. And you can let him know that he can feel free to put it out there that I am probably going to kill the next goon I see skulking around me.”

  The guy shuffled off without a further word. I looked back across the parking lot to the paper cups of what was supposed to be a pleasant morning’s coffee spreading a light brown puddle across the pavement. I let out a sigh. I stood here for a moment, debating whether to go back and get more or to just rouse Claire and get on the road as soon as possible.

  I had to admit, finding Collins’ guy right outside the room had unnerved me. I knew what I had done was dangerous, but I was confident I could handle myself. Bringing Claire into it, however, well, it changed things. I was responsible for her. She hadn’t asked to be in this situation. I started it, so I had to keep her safe.

  The warning was serious, and I took it to heart. I had burned my bridges, and likely hers as well. Burned isn’t the right word. I had set C-4 on the bases and loaded the bridges with nitroglycerin. Kovalev would make sure there wasn’t the slimmest ember remaining. I didn’t mind. I had nothing to lose. Based on what I had seen from Claire, she didn’t either. I was happy to start a new life somewhere else. And if Claire wanted to do something else, go off on her own, so be it. But at least she would be making her own choice, free from someone who would just sell her off to the highest bidder.

  I decided to forgo getting a fresh round of coffee. We would have to make do on the road. Nevertheless, I was looking forward to a nice good morning kiss from Claire.

  When I turned back to our door, I quickly realized that was not going to happen.

  Chapter 10 - Claire

  I woke up sore. After months with Kovalev, I had forgotten how great sex could be. And that was great. Jason was both fierce and gentle, pushing where I wanted him to push and giving me space where I needed it. I felt liberated, free in ways that I couldn’t have imagined. The room was dark, quiet. I stretched myself out, tensing and relaxing every little muscle I could. With each movement, I felt tension leave my body, never to return.

  Even if the bed was uncomfortable, and it was, I wanted to stay here forever. Even if the springs were threatening to pop through the fabric top, even if the thin, hard sheets were scratching at my skin (I hadn’t bothered to put anything on last night), even if the sag in the middle of the mattress threatened to put a permanent cramp in my back, I had been happier in that bed than I had been in a very long time.

  But I had to get up. My bladder was insisting, and it was not amenable to counter-argument. I rolled over to the edge of the bed and swung my legs over, planting my feet on the thin, threadbare carpet. After I finished in the bathroom, it occurred to me that I was still completely naked and the only thing I had to wear was the evening gown that lay crumpled on the floor. I slipped on my bra and panties and sat back down on the bed, unsure of what to do. Something about walking out of a cheap motel room in the bright light of morning wearing a wrinkled dress just felt bad. Even after everything I’ve been through over the past few months, I was somehow still worried about the embarrassment of a ‘walk of shame’. The power of ingrained social mores, or something.

  I noticed that Jason had a duffel bag he had set down by the side of the chest of drawers. Maybe he had a t-shirt and a pair of jeans or something that I could wear until I could get my own clothes back, or buy new ones. The zipper was U-shaped and well made. It gave a satisfying unzipping sound as I pulled it along its path. My body gave an involuntary shiver, even though it wasn’t very cold in the room.

  When I flipped open the flap, I did not find any clothes. Instead there was cash. Stacks and stacks of bills wrapped in little paper bindings that read ‘$10,000’. What the hell?

  Why did Jason have a bag full of cash? Something told me I wasn’t going to like the answer.

  It occurred to me that I had not considered every angle the night before. How could I have? The whole night was a whirlwind. But now, with the early morning light fitfully streaming through the worn and stained curtains, a number of inconsistencies tickled my mind.

  Jason never explained how he had the money to bid at the auction. The duffel bag, obviously, answered that, but introduced further questions. I knew that Jason worked for Kovalev and that the only way he would get his hands on that much cash would be through some kind of nefarious act. That, by itself, didn’t bother me so much. I mean, I couldn’t exactly afford that kind of scruples. But even so, why had he taken us to a seedy motel to spend the night together? That night, I was so disoriented, a combination of fear, anxiety, confusion, and excitement, that I barely registered where we were going. And when we got to the room, well, I was a bit distracted.

  I sat down on the bed, unsure of what to do next. I had no phone, no wallet, and no clothes. No matter what, I was going to have to wait for Jason to come back before I did anything.

  A shadow passed in front of the window, briefly blocking the little shafts of light that poked through the openings in the curtain. I stood up, ready to confront him when he opened the door, to demand answers. But the door didn’t open. At first, I thought it was just another guest who had walked past the room, but a f
ew moments later, I heard a thud and a muffled grunt of pain. Someone was fighting outside.

  I was frozen. Fear poured into my stomach like a river of ice, buckling my knees. Whatever Jason had done, it had followed him and now I was going to be dragged into it as well.

  The sounds of scuffling stopped, and I could hear voices, muffled, talking just outside the door. Steeling myself, I took a few steps toward the window. I moved the curtain to the side and carefully peeked into the parking lot.

  Jason was there. He had another man down on his knees with his arm twisted in a horrible direction behind his back. Jason looked angry. I couldn’t make out what they were saying, but it clearly was not a friendly chat. I felt a brief sense of relief that it was Jason who had the upper hand in the encounter, but that was quickly quelled by my anxious worry as to why this man was here in the first place.

  I watched as Jason let the man up and then allowed him to walk away. He stood there, following the man with his gaze as he got into his car and drove out of the parking lot. Even when the other man had been gone for a bit, Jason continued to stand there and stare. I decided that I had had enough of waiting and pulled open the door. At that moment, he turned toward me.

  When I saw the shocked look on his face, I became very aware that I was standing out in the open in a motel parking lot wearing only my finest, laciest bra and panties. I held my face in a carefully composed mask, not letting any hint of embarrassment or discomfort disrupt the angry and confrontational look I had intended. It seemed to have an effect, because Jason’s face was a mess of worry, confusion, and bemusement. We stood here silently for a beat, and then Jason strode forward, putting his hand on my hip to shepherd me back into the room.

  “What did you see?” he asked as soon as he had closed the door. His voice was tight and his face unreadable.