Auctioned to Protect [The Spectrum Auctions 2] (Siren Publishing Allure)
Page 12
“Oh, that?” Mike smiled and winked at her. “Not a word of it.”
Scarlett laughed and Mike approached again and knelt in front of her.
“I only love you with every fiber of my soul and seeing you injured was worse than anything I’ve ever been through.” He looked up with a smile and added, “And if you repeat that to anyone else, I’ll deny all knowledge. I have my street cred to think of, you know.”
Scarlett cupped his face and ran her nail across his full lip.
“Well, you big, wonderful, bratty sub you, I love you, too, with all my heart and soul, and I’d love nothing more than to have you serve me, always.”
Mike exhaled loudly and then looked up.
“Sounds a good deal to me, My Lady.”
Epilogue
Four months later
Mike breathed in the sounds and the smells of Club Spectrum with a small smile. Dressed in nothing but the obligatory thong to maintain his dignity, he stood behind his Lady and massaged the knots out Scarlett’s shoulders. Something about this auction had made her tense. His silver cuffs gleamed in the spotlights shining down from the stage. They matched the discreet silver chain he now wore around his neck as a day collar, and signaled the fact that he was Mistress Scarlett’s property.
The cuffs worked as an instant tool to get him into the submissive headspace, and Mike loved the ritual of Scarlett placing them on his wrists when he came home to her. Work had been particularly stressful lately. His team was working on exposing a child trafficking gang, and to be able to leave all that at the proverbial door and just concentrate on Scarlett’s needs had been a godsend the last few weeks. To be able to let go of all that, for Scarlett to get him out of his head until the rest of this miserable world just disappeared and it was just the two of them, made him fall in love with her even more every time she did it.
The club had come under a lot of public attention since the attack on Scarlett, and keeping their members out of the limelight had been a particular headache for Slade and Scarlett. As co-owners of Club Spectrum, it fell to them both to ensure the smooth running of the club. The reporter who had gained access to Scarlett’s hospital room had proven to be a particular pain in the ass. Mike’s hackles rose every time the woman’s name came up in conversation between Scarlett and Slade, which happened far too frequently. Apparently they had come to some sort of decision about how best to deal with her. Mike wasn’t privy to the details.
Scarlett had merely smiled at him and tapped her nose.
“It’s best that you don’t know, Mike. You’re a cop after all, and what we’re planning might not be illegal, but it’s certainly unorthodox. I wouldn’t want to put you in an awkward position.”
Mike had hooted with laughter at that.
“Well, only the ones that will give us both pleasure, eh?”
Maybe that’s what the problem was. Mike had that itch back between his shoulder blades, and he scanned the room, instantly on alert.
Scarlett had only recently taken up the reins for running the auctions again, and this was the first one she had organized herself, so maybe that explained why she was so tense tonight.
Or maybe something more was going down tonight. He glanced at Laura, but his sister sat by Slade’s feet and accepted the nibbles he fed her with a serene smile on her face. They’d found out she was expecting. Rather a surprise for everyone involved, and his niece or nephew had already made its presence known. Laura felt as sick as a dog most days and the only thing that seemed to help was constant nibbling of dry snacks, so Slade had made it his personal mission to ensure Laura had a supply of nibbles wherever she went.
Pedro looked restless tonight. The Spaniard’s black eyes held a hint of boredom, and he flicked the end of his riding crop over his booted foot repeatedly.
Mike had been expecting him to pick up one of the slaves being auctioned off tonight. They had a few newbies, men and women alike, but Pedro just scowled and sipped his wine. Maybe he missed his family back home. A man’s birthday could do that.
The announcer on stage read out the last slave for the evening, and Scarlett sat up straighter. Slade grinned and punched Pedro on the arm and the Spaniard came to full alert.
“What the fuck is that reporter doing in the auction?” Mike asked.
Scarlett patted his hand, but there was no mistaking the warning in her voice.
“Language, brass. Well, she wanted to know what happens in these auctions, so Slade and I decided the best way was for her to experience it firsthand. Her psychological profile proved very interesting. It seems Peyton King is a closet masochist, and we haven’t had a new one of those in the club for some time, have we Pedro?”
She smiled at the Spaniard and a slow and rather worrying grin spread across his face.
“Indeed, we haven’t,” he confirmed and he raised his hand to join in the bidding. A new and pretty slave always brought plenty of interest and the uncomfortable looking woman, whose impressive tits nearly fell out of the skimpy top she was wearing, was no exception. The mutinous arch of her eyebrows and the way she stared into the crowd promised a rather bratty sub to anyone who won her, and Pedro had a reputation for breaking bratty subs.
Scarlett giggled as one by one the other bidders fell away and the falling hammer announced Pedro as the winner.
“Happy Birthday, Pedro,” Scarlett and Slade said in unison.
Mike looked at Laura and he was pretty sure her expression of mild alarm matched his. Things were certainly going to get interesting around these parts.
THE END
WWW.DORISOCONNOR.COM
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Glutton for punishment would be a good description for Doris…at least that's what she hears on an almost daily basis when people find out that she has a brood of nine children, ranging from adult to toddler and lives happily in a far-too-small house, cluttered with children, pets, dust bunnies, and one very understanding and supportive husband. Domestic goddess she is not.
There is always something better to do after all, like working on the latest manuscript and trying not to scare the locals even more than usual by talking out loud to the voices in her head. Her characters tend to be pretty insistent to get their stories told, and you will find Doris burning the midnight oil on a regular basis. It's her only time to get any peace and quiet and besides, sleep is for wimps.
She likes to spin sensual, sassy, and sexy tales involving alpha heroes to die for, and heroines who give as good as they get. From contemporary to paranormal, BDSM to F/F and Ménage, haunting love stories are guaranteed.
For all titles by Doris O’Connor, please visit
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