Page 8 of Ryker

My integrity, however, says otherwise.

“Fuck.” I pinch the bridge of my nose and drop into my chair while Dmitri shuts my office door. “I need to figure this out. I can’t lose what I’ve built by cheating her way to a win.”

“Maybe we can put a twist on it? Let the bidders go in blind so they don’t see which woman they’re bidding on. Then make it her at the reveal?”

“That’s not a bad idea.” But it won’t sit well with my clients. Many of them bid on their own wives and girlfriends. They want their woman trained by my Doms in specific ways, so their new fuck toys turn into upgrades for them to play with after their month as our Butterfly is up.

As far as I can tell, Tara’s not with anyone at the club. No one will specifically be there for her. She’s also stunning and fucking ballsy. Maybe I can work all that to my advantage.

“Once she wins, however that happens, I need to make sure she pays for putting me in this position.”

I want revenge.

Dmitri leans against the door and doesn’t look happy. “How far you want me to go with her?” Because we both know even he has his hard limits, as do I. We also both know that D is the top Dom in the club. Women would happily give their soul for a night at his mercy.

My god, I’m becoming a monster. And for what, some crumbling brick and mortar? “We’ll have to see.”

Imagining her under Dmitri’s care shoots fiery ice through my veins. Not that I’ll ever admit it.

If she chooses Dmitri, which most Butterflies do, we’ll have to come up with a plan that meets both our requirements. He’s not one to hurt a woman, and neither am I, but part of me wants to teach her a fucking lesson about… what was it she said? Oh yeah, never biting the hand that fingers her.

God. Damn.

She punched my pride tonight. I’d love a chance to return the favor.

???

“Good evening, Mr. Hudson.”

“Good evening, Mr. Hudson.”

“Good evening, Sir.”

I’m too wound up to respond to any of my staff and all but storm through the growing crowd gathering in the club. Dmitri and I stayed up late last night devising a plan that will hopefully work. Time to put it into action.

I shoulder my way through the private doors to the suite where all the Butterfly competitors are getting ready. Tara’s sitting between two women who are younger than her.

Perfect.

“How are you this evening, Stella?” I bend low and kiss the cheek of the twenty-four-year-old to the right of Tara. She’s built to fuck, and her cuckold husband pays a lot of money to make that happen.

“I’m so nervous,” she says, smiling. “I hope I win.”

“Look how stunning you are.” I practically purr against her ear. “The bidders would be insane to not pay top dollar to have you spoiled.”

Tara’s cheeks blaze red, but she doesn’t say a word. Keeping my cool, I move onto the woman sitting on Tara’s left. “Deseri, if you were my Butterfly, I’d spend hours with you on my tongue so I could gorge on your sweetness.” I drag my thumb down her mouth, smearing her lipstick. “Keep it like this. The men will go feral for it.” With a wink, I add, “As will Dmitri.”

Her eyes darken with lust.

Giving them hope they might win weighs my heart down with guilt, but what I’m saying isn’t a lie. There is an excellent possibility that either of them could win, just like any other woman here.

Because I’m not cheating tonight. Fuck that.

Nowhere in our verbal deal was it stated that Tara had to be this month’s Butterfly. For all I care, she can compete every year until she finally wins or gives up and goes home. I’ll be damned if I let my honor, or the integrity of my club, get smudged because little miss mouthy wants to play hardball with me.

I finally turn my attention to the woman who’s gone from my little obsession to the bane of my existence. “How are you this evening, Tara?”

She may have to win this on her own, but that doesn’t mean I can’t nudge her in the right direction. Just like I gave Stella a boost of confidence, and Deseri a tip to appease the bidder’s desires, I’ll give Tara a secret weapon too.

---