Page 15 of Savage Desires

When the security guard posted at the front door sees me approaching, I know I've made the right choice with my mask. I soak up the look of fear on his face. Based on what Todd disclosed, most of the men invited are old fucks that are richer than God or trust fund babies that have never seen a hard day's work. I'm neither of those things.

The guard is a large man. Over six feet with broad shoulders. He looks like he can hold his own in a fight with most men. Not me. I'm several inches taller and obviously broader. He looks like he's playing dress up compared to me. Add the black goat skull mask with curling horns that hide my entire face, and I make an imposing figure.

The eye holes of my mask are covered with black mesh, which allows me to see out but makes it impossible for anyone to see my eyes. This adds to the fear factor. Taking away a person's ability to see someone's eyes makes them uncomfortable. The eyes give you a glimpse into a person's soul and can help you read someone's intentions. Take that away, and all you get is discomfort and fear.

Precisely what I am going for tonight.

"Invitation," the guard growls.

I smile at his pathetic attempt to display his strength and prove he's not afraid of me. He would piss his pants if I lunged at him right now. I'm amused that he thinks he's fooling anyone with his bravado. I hand him the invitation, and he studies it closely. My guess is he's trying to figure out who I am despite the invitation not having a name on it. Each invitation has a number instead of a name. Anonymity is guaranteed.

It makes it easier for me to gain entry, but it will complicate things when I later go to free the women sold tonight. Thanks to Todd, I know how they handle payments, which will help me track down the buyers. It'll take a little time, but I can't afford to show my hand too soon and take the women tonight. Finding out that the Russian Bratva is involved means I need to be cautious in how I approach things.

Tonight is about recon. I will observe the operation and learn as much as I can. I'll bid on a girl, but not enough to win. I want to be on the radar as a client who's ready to spend money, but it's imperative that I leave without a girl so they will invite me back to the next auction.

The guard gives me another once-over and then steps aside so I can pass. As I walk by, I keep my masked face turned towards him, smirking when he steps back. Since the Russian mob is involved, you'd think they would have better security protecting their assets. Though from what I've seen at Mecca, they don't have much in the way of security there either. It's either hubris or stupidity. Either way, it will benefit me and my goals.

There is a low pulsing music playing that teases you to follow. The entryway is empty and dark except for dim light from sconces on the walls. I follow the sounds of the music and the din of voices I can hear coming from deeper inside the house. The noise leads me to a staircase that leads down.

A second guard stands at the open door. He gives me an appraising look. I'm guessing the guard at the door told him about me, and he's assessing me based on whatever the pissant at the front door said. He not so subtly flashes his gun holstered on his hip. I barely bite back my laughter at his weak display. He may have a weapon, but I could disarm him in seconds and have him dead in another. I don't change my stance at the silent threat. Just like the man at the front door, fear flashes in his eyes for a moment before he schools his expression again. Without a word, he steps aside, allowing me through.

The people running this despicable business are definitely idiots. They have no idea who they've allowed into their lair. They didn't even check for weapons for fuck's sake. They are obviously used to prissy white-collar assholes attending and don't consider them a risk that deserves better security. Again, it works out for me, so not going to complain. I can only hope the hubris continues. It'll make my job easier.

I slowly descend the stairs, the music and voices getting louder the closer I get. The stairs open up to a large room decorated like a luxurious club. There's a bar across one wall and booths set up on another. There are several couches and other seating facing a stage at the far end of the room. It looks like a typical stage in a strip club including nude women dancing on poles, but I know it's more sinister than that.

There are at least thirty men here with women in various states of undress serving drinks or draped over the men. A woman wearing a tiny pair of panties and stiletto heels saunters up to me. She is going for sultry, but she does nothing for me. She's thinner than she should be and despite her smile, I can see the dead look in her eyes. She doesn't even show a bit of fear at my mask or imposing size. Either she's seen it all and fears nothing anymore or she's on drugs and so high she doesn't care.

I'm unsure if she's paid to be here or if she's an unwilling victim as well. She could very well be a paid prostitute since I know the Russians deal in flesh. If it's the woman's choice, so be it. When that choice is taken away, I have a problem.

"Hello, sexy. I'm Lexis, and I'll be yours for the night."

She steps closer and trails her finger down my chest. It takes a Herculean effort to allow her touch. Sending her away would rouse suspicions. I have to play the game to win my spot among these people. I don't say anything in response. I stare down at her, waiting for her to make another move. My lack of reaction has made her uncomfortable. I almost feel bad, but I won't be putting my hands on her, and the less I speak, the better.

I don't know how many people know that Todd Mallory was expected at this party and if it will raise red flags that he's not here. With the guaranteed anonymity, I'm not too concerned about being found out, but it's better to not take the risk. Portraying the aloof businessman with deep pockets is the goal. Making them both respect and fear me is my first goal. It'll let the people in charge know I belong here. By the looks of it, I look like I belong here more than the men who were actually invited.

A few men are wearing Halloween-style masks that would look intimidating if they weren't obviously men who haven't seen a day of hard work in their lives. Most of the men are overweight or too thin. The outliers are muscular and would maybe be intimidating to lesser men than me. Not a single person here could take me in a fight. It would be laughably easy to take them down.

"If you'll follow me, sir, I'll take you to your seat. The auction will begin soon," the woman before me says.

I give her a nod. She turns and leads me towards the stage. I can feel eyes on me as we weave through the room. I don't give any indication that I'm paying attention to them when, in reality, I'm taking everything in. I might not be able to see who they are, but I'll find out and enjoy exacting justice for every woman they've touched with their vile hands.

Lexis leads me to a chair that looks more like a throne. It's made of deep red velvet with gold trimmings. To the side is a small table with a glass box that protects a black button. That button is how you bid on a woman.

"Would you like a drink, sir?" Lexis asks.

I shake my head once. She swallows thickly and shifts on her feet. The more my silence drags on the more uncomfortable she's becoming. I lower myself onto my assigned seat and watch her eyes dart around the room. She pauses at a man wearing a basic black mask covering only his eyes. He glares at her in a way that makes me clench my fists.

Her discomfort isn't because of me; it's because she's afraid of that man, and my disinterest in her is being seen as a failure on her part. I have no doubt she'll be punished for displeasing a client. The idea of her touching me in any way makes me sick, but I don't want her punished because of me, either. With a deep sigh, I pat my thigh. Lexis visibly relaxes at my invitation and perches on my lap. I wrap one arm around her, placing my hand on her hip to keep her steady.

She puts her hands on my chest and studies my mask. I know she's trying to see beyond the black mesh to my eyes, but it's impossible. She wriggles on my lap, trying to rub on my cock. If she's trying to get me hard, she's going to be disappointed. Nothing about this situation is attractive to me. I'm disgusted and nothing she can do will change the state of my dick.

I grip her hip more firmly, stilling her movements. She freezes on my lap, her hands clenching against my shirt. She's probably afraid I will push her away and get her into trouble. I'm not going to do that, but I don't want her trying to tempt me into fucking her, either.

"Relax," I say quietly.

Her eyes widen in surprise at my command, but she slowly obeys. Her fingers relax so her hands are just resting on my chest again, her body loses its rigidness, and the fear that was radiating off of her dissipates slowly.

"I'm yours to use however you want tonight," she says, confused.

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