The Auction

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by J. R. Gray

He couldn’t refuse her. “I like to take a girl over my knee, feeling the catch in her breath at the surprise. I feed off the anticipation, and maybe just the slight hint of fear and embarrassment.”

  Scotty leaned in to him, he was sure of it. They were only a few breaths apart now, and her body language enticed him to go on.

  “I like to leave marks. Marks she can see for days. Ones I know are there even under her clothes.”

  “How do you like to leave those marks?” She was in this with him. She was engaged.

  “With my hands. Sure, I can use toys, but I like to feel the skin as I mark it. I want to be in control.” He could practically feel hers already. He bet her ass was as smooth as her cunt.

  She pressed her teeth into her lip. “We should eat before I drag you into the bathroom.”

  He stopped himself from picking her up and turned to his rapidly cooling food. “What’s your favorite toy?”

  “Personal, or for someone to use on me?”

  “Both.” He might as well get as much information out of her as she let him.

  “I have a glass dildo I am rather fond of.”

  “I thought you said…”

  “No one else has used toys on me, but you can’t expect me to be celibate.”

  His mind was spinning as soon as she said it. “Have you played with temperature with it?”

  She tilted her head. “No…”

  A grin formed on his mouth. “Ideas.”

  “Oh?” she asked.

  “Maybe when we play I’ll tell you. If you’re good.”

  She placed a bite on her tongue and chewed slowly. He lived and died waiting for her to speak.

  “If I’m good? I’m rarely good.”

  “So you like to be punished then?”

  She rewarded him with a huge smile. “Among other things.”

  He groaned again. She might be perfect for him.

  “Aren’t you going to eat?”

  “No.” He couldn’t concentrate on his food. He was playing it cool, but she had him too hyper focused on her to stomach anything. They could wrap it up. Or he’d order something later.

  A tiny crease formed in her brow. “I don’t want to keep you from eating, or be rude.” She set her fork down.

  “No, please keep eating.”

  She picked up her fork but didn’t move to eat anymore. “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing is wrong. I’m entirely focused on you, and I’d much rather keep it that way.”

  She put another bite between her lips, but broke off when her phone started ringing. She grabbed her clutch and pulled it out looking at the caller ID. “Sorry, I have to take this.”

  She picked up the phone and listened. She gave a few one word answers then hung up. Stark knew what it was. It was a get out of jail call. He’d set up enough of them in his youth. Now the key would be seeing if she took it.

  “I have to go,” she said to him.

  Chapter Eleven

  She could have cried on her train ride home. What the hell was wrong with her? She shouldn’t have asked Cheri to call her. She shouldn’t have taken the out. She wanted to be there with him. But the moment before her phone rang it all started closing in on her.

  The second she started to feel the warmth of protection, the walls were coming down on her and she was back in that room with Tanya. She could not let her ruin the rest of her life. This would not be her lot. It went against everything she was to let another person control her like this. It was one thing to submit for mutual enjoyment, but she despised that Tanya still had a hold on this part of her so long after. She jammed her key in the door and threw it open, planning on drinking her body weight in anything she could find before she crawled into bed. If she had it in her, she would beat her head against the wall, but she’d always been a chicken. She could never bring herself to inflict pain on herself. She saved that for horrid ex-girlfriends, it seemed.

  Stopping inside, she threw her bag on the entrance table and marched toward the fridge. She wasn’t hungry, but she knew Cheri kept booze hidden in the freezer behind the peas. Generally, she didn’t drink unless they were out, and she really didn’t drink on work nights. She was too old to do that anymore. It was hard enough to get up at five in the morning sober. She grabbed the gin and poured it into a beer mug, then dug around in the fridge until she found tonic. They really needed to go to the store more than once a month. It was slim pickings in here. But they both worked insane hours and got takeout more than they ate at home.

  “Are you going to share, or can I expect you to drink everything in the house?”

  “I don’t really want to share,” Scotty said as she made a second, less strong, drink for Cheri. She passed it over to her as she took a seat on the other end of the sofa.

  “That bad? He was hot. It’s a shame.”

  Scotty pressed her glass to her forehead. “No, it was lovely, actually.”

  “Then why the hell are you here?” Cheri sighed.

  It would have been easier to go hide in her room, avoid all of Cheri’s questions, but she knew she’d have to talk about it sooner or later. Cheri wouldn’t let her get away with this. And, if Scotty was honest with herself, she was glad Cheri didn’t let her. If someone hadn’t made her talk about that night she’d probably need a therapist to drag it out of her, and she’d never submit again. Well, not that she was doing such a great job of it at the moment.

  “Because I panicked.” It was as simple and complicated as that.

  “What the hell?”

  “He was…” She sighed and pulled her knees to her chest. “He was charming and knew all the right things to say, got me picturing what it would be like…” she trailed off and shook her head.

  “Then what?” Cheri prompted when she didn’t go on.

  “Then I felt it. I felt like he was going to take care of me, and I couldn’t breathe. Everything was closing in and you called two seconds later and I had to get out.”

  “Wow, he must be good. You haven’t had a panic attack like that in a long time.”

  Scotty nodded. “Yep.”

  “You better text him, or he’s going to think you didn’t want to be there.”

  “What can I possibly say to make up for that? ‘Hey, sorry I had a panic attack because you made me feel safe and warm and well my ex fucked that all up for me’?”

  “It’s a start.”

  Scotty pressed her forehead into her knees. “I’ll look like a damn idiot.”

  “You’re not an idiot. Tanya is a lowlife who doesn’t deserve to call herself a Domme.”

  Tears welled up at the corners of Scotty’s eyes. She squeezed them shut trying to stop it. “And then what? Then I let him and have a panic attack during? It’s better to…” But she didn’t have an answer. She didn’t want to let Tanya have control and ruin this for her, but she didn’t know how to fix it. She didn’t want to let anyone see her like this, either. It was bad enough Cheri saw it because they lived together. There had to be a way she could fix it.

  “Maybe you should stab Tanya. That might help you get over it.”

  “You’d miss me if I went to jail.”

  “I wouldn’t tell anyone.” Cheri laughed. “But you’re right. There is no way I’d find another roommate I’d tolerate. Fuck that shit.” She downed the rest of her drink and stood up. “Text him. Even if you’re not going to see him again, he deserves to know it wasn’t him. From what I’ve heard he’s been through enough himself.”

  “What has he been through?”

  “Ask him.”

  Scotty sat for a long time staring at her phone. Finally, she picked it up and opened a new message to Stark.

  Scotty: Sorry for bailing like that.

  He replied almost instantly. He must have had the phone in his hand.

  Stark: Is everything okay?

  Scotty: Yes… No… It’s hard to explain.

  Stark: Try me.

  She wasn’t ready yet. She couldn’t bear to do it.
/>   Scotty: I owe you for dinner. You should let me make it up to you.

  Stark: Are you really asking me out again?

  Scotty: I guess I am.

  Stark: Are you going to tell me why you bailed on our first date before I join you for another?

  She sighed. She knew she owed it to him, and it would be easier to say in a message rather than if he confronted her in person.

  Scotty: I panicked. So when my friend called I took it.

  Stark: Did I do something?

  Scotty: No, no. I don’t want you to think that at all.

  She started to type: You were… but couldn’t add the word perfect so she deleted the message.

  Scotty: It was all me. I promise you.

  Stark: What made you panic.

  Scotty: This is going to sound terrible.

  Stark: I doubt it.

  Scotty: I was starting to feel safe and dominated.

  Stark: That sounds like it was me.

  Scotty: My ex fucked my head up bad.

  Stark: Tell me about it. Please.

  Scotty: We were mid-scene when I found out she was cheating on me.

  Stark: Fuck.

  Stark: So that’s why you don’t want to scene with me.

  Scotty: Anything to do with play has brought me back there since. I already had an issue with anxiety before and well, she made it worse.

  Stark: I’ve had issues with anxiety myself. It’s nothing to be ashamed of.

  Scotty: So you get it. I was panicking. I didn’t want to have a panic attack in front of you so I bailed. I’m sorry.

  Stark: You should have let me drive you home.

  Scotty: I should have, but you know, that might have made it worse. The whole taking care of me thing.

  Stark: Better to have a panic attack in my car than on a train.

  Stark: I worry about you getting home like that.

  Scotty wanted to pull back. She didn’t want to look at her phone. He was so amazing. He wanted to take care of her and here she was scared out of her mind when this is what she would have killed for. Still would if she could get around the damn mental block.

  Scotty: I made it home okay. If it ever got really bad I could call my roommate to come get me. I’m sure she would have.

  Stark: It’s good you have someone like that.

  Scotty: So will you let me make it up to you.

  Stark: That depends.

  Scotty: On what?

  Chapter Twelve

  Stark couldn’t believe he’d actually typed this. But it was time to get his balls back, and if he treated Scotty with kid gloves he knew he’d scare her away faster than if he actually went for it. His thumb hovered over the send button.

  Stark: You have to give me a chance.

  Stark stopped himself from pacing, waiting for her reply. Instead he rested his head against the back of the sofa.

  Scotty: Okay, but not tonight.

  Stark: Did you really think I’d drag you back out after being worried if you got home safe?

  Scotty: I was giving you a hard time. You’re too easy.

  Stark: I’m not good at this. It’s been a long time.

  Scotty: Are you going to tell me about that?

  Stark: Do I have to?

  Scotty: If you expect me to submit and open up to you, yeah, I think you have to.

  Stark: When are we doing this?

  Scotty: You tell me. Remember, I’m off until after New Year’s.

  How he went from reluctant to the driving force behind the encounter, Stark had no idea. Sure, he knew when Matt convinced him to do this, he would have to do it, but he could have let it all fade away and returned to his life when Scotty voiced her reluctance. Maybe Matt was right. A thought painful to even think. Stark sure as hell would never tell Matt he’d thought it.

  He started to type out a message but deleted it. Did he really want to wait another week before he saw her? If he was honest with himself, he hadn’t wanted tonight to end when it did.

  Stark: Tomorrow?

  Scotty: Sure…do you have a room at the club?

  Stark: I returned it years ago. I could borrow one, or we could play here.

  Stark: If you’re not okay with it you’re welcome to have your friend come and supervise.

  Scotty: She’s already done a background check on you.

  Stark: You’re not serious…

  He really couldn’t believe she was. Who would do that?

  Scotty: She’s a little obsessed. Like a big sister, one who works for the FBI.

  Stark groaned. He was happy he was a good guy. Now he knew exactly who Scotty’s roommate was. There was only one female FBI agent he knew of who went to their club.

  Scotty: Scared?

  Stark: Who wouldn’t be scared of Mistress Cheri?

  Scotty: You know her?

  Stark: Does anyone not?

  Scotty: You have a good point. Still want to do this?

  Stark: Of course I do.

  Scotty: What time?

  He had to do this just right. He already had a plan forming in his head.

  Stark: Seven, don’t be late this time.

  Stark: I want you in shorts, a bra and the overcoat. Nothing more. I want as much flesh exposed to me as possible.

  Scotty: Yes, Sir.

  Those two words made everything worth this.

  * * * *

  “Should I be nervous about this? I shouldn’t be nervous about domming. This is a bad sign.”

  Matt had his feet kicked up on Stark’s coffee table and a beer in his hand, much different than how he looked as his drag persona. “Suck it up, buttercup.” He burped, probably to accentuate his point.

  “You’re nicer as Pinky.”

  Matt raised his brows.

  “You’re really not, but this,” he gestured at Matt’s current spread eagle position. “Is weird as fuck.”

  “Can’t deal with a real man, baby?”

  “Do men like you better this way or when you are…you know?”

  Matt gave him a questioning look. “Who said I like men?”

  Stark paused. He wasn’t really sure. Matt did say things that would make him question it. They’d been friends for years, but he’d never bothered to ask. And because their friendship had come about in such a weird way. It was stupid, and he should have. “I’m sorry, I just assumed…” Now he was putting his foot in his mouth. Holy shit, how could he have not known this about Matt? Had he been too focused on himself? Had he been that bad a friend all these years? “Are you into men or women?” He was so used to being alone all the time, the closer he and Matt got the more socially awkward he became. Really they mostly hung out here or in the restaurant downstairs. There wasn’t ever a reason to see him with suitors.

  “Yes.”

  “I gave you two choices, you can’t answer yes.”

  “I can when the answer is yes.”

  It dawned on Stark what Matt meant. “Really?” He’d been pretty sure Matt was strictly gay all these years.

  “I enjoy pussy from time to time.” He took another sip of his beer. “Plus, who could completely rule out tits?”

  “I’m really sorry.” He felt like such an asshole.

  “Why are you sorry, bro?”

  Stark looked in the mirror again. It had been a long time since he’d felt like a “real” Dom. Somewhere along the way he’d lost the mojo behind it. “Because I assumed because of the drag thing.”

  Matt waved him off. “Honey, you aren’t the first, and you won’t be the last.”

  “I can still feel bad.”

  “Feel bad about yourself. I have double the one-night stand pool you do.”

  “I already feel bad about myself,” Stark mumbled.

  “I heard you.” Matt was on his feet, and he came up behind Stark. A little closer than he was used to having people. “You can’t keep living in the past. She’s gone, and I’m mad at her, too, but we owe it to ourselves to move on.”

  “What if I can’t?”r />
  “Then you’re letting her win.” Matt stepped back and gave Stark’s shoulder a squeeze. “It’s time. You’re going to become an agoraphobe.”

  “I’m nowhere close—” Stark looked around his place as he said it. Maybe he was a little too close for comfort. He even had his groceries delivered for the past six months so he didn’t have to deal with the store. If he was honest with himself, he only left his place when Matt made him come to the club or go watch a game.

  Matt didn’t have to say anything. They both knew. Stark sighed and ran his fingers through his hair again.

  “You should go.” He grabbed the small bag of toys he’d gotten out of storage, feeling a nervous knot starting to form in his stomach.

  “Do you want me to cancel for you?” Matt looked at him in the mirror.

  “No, no, I’d hate to do that to her. I like her, and she is way out of my league. It’s just one scene, and if I never leave my house again after it…” he trailed off when Matt growled.

  “You have to keep going to Yankee games with me. No one else will.”

  “Yeah, no one else would be caught dead there.”

  Matt flipped him the bird. “If you start to panic.”

  Stark waved him off. “I’ll call you. I have this.”

 

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