Page 261 of Bad for Me

It’s while I’m scrutinizing the second man that I realize why I recognize him.

The last time I’d seen him, he’d been clean-shaven, but there’s no mistaking it.

He’s from one of the other divisions. We’d met at a big anti-human-trafficking conference.

I notice exactly when he recognizes me, too, because his eyes widen just a fraction.

Raul’s lack of reaction makes me think he didn’t notice the split second I’d shared with the other agent, but he’s surprised me before.

“See? He’s plenty handsome,” Raul says with a shrug, but his hand goes to the back of my neck and squeezes it lightly in what I’ve learned is a possessive gesture from him. He does it when he feels threatened, when he feels insecure, and there’s a lot he’s not showing to these men.

“He’s old,” the portly man says, making a face. “You’re never going to be able to get the money you spent back on him.”

“Good thing I don’t plan on selling him,” Raul says tightly.

The other agent—Michaels, that was his name—lets out an amused laugh. “I bet. And an older one like that, at least he’s got some experience. Knows how to properly suck cock.” He waggles his eyebrows at Raul.

I’m trying to figure out what he’s doing. Building rapport? Or does he want to see me humiliate myself more?

Can I be sure that he’s not corrupt, enjoying the benefits of being undercover with the sleazy underbelly of this country?

My thoughts begin to spiral. Right now, he has all the power here. He could get me killed if he says the wrong thing.

I could destroy him, too—if Raul removes the gag.

“That’s for me to know and youneverto find out,” Raul says. There’s a hint of distaste in his voice as he says, “I know he’s not your type.”

What does that mean? Has he seen Michaels using some of their victims?

I don’t want to imagine him forcing his cock down the throat of some teenager. He could argue it was to maintain cover, but I know I would never do it. I wouldn’t touch any unwilling person, and especially not a child.

Michaels grins at him. “More for me, then. You keep to your old men. Maybe you’ll eventually buy someone as old and ugly as Stevens here.”

The name-drop has to be intentional. They’ve all been careful — not even using Raul’s name — and for him to “slip” right after he recognizes me has to mean something.

Doesn’t it?

Raul makes another face. “No. Misha is it for me.”

“You have your forever slave, then,” Stevens says, draining his drink and setting the glass down on the coffee table with a thud. “I’m finished here.”

“Call me when you’re ready for the shipment,” Raul says as Stevens gets up. “You can see yourself out.”

We all watch Stevens leave. Now I’m even more keenly aware of Michaels in the room with us, watching us.

I should be grateful he’s here. That means there’s a good chance that somebody will come for me soon—as long as Michaels informs them about this.

But that also means more people will know that I got myself captured. They’ll know that I’ve been used and abused by these men.

Depending on what Michaels tells them, they might even know that I get off on this humiliation and pain.

“Now that he’s gone…” Michaels grins at Raul. “Come on, show him off at least a little bit. Bend him over the couch and let me see you abuse his hole.”

I tense, not sure if he’s bluffing — not sure if Raul will go along with it or balk, either.

“As much as I’d love to give you a show, I have another meeting,” Raul says, which I’m pretty sure is a lie.

I’m a little surprised that he didn’t take the opportunity to use me — to humiliate me — but I’m grateful, too.

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