Page 183 of Auctioned

His fingers curl around his belt buckle.

“Stop.”You will never, fucking ever, have what’s mine. “I have something far better planned for you. Only the best for my oldest friend.”

“Oh, so that’s what we’re doing.” He taps his fingers on his thigh. A smirk tugs at his lips. “By all means, then. Don’t let me get in the way.”

“Thank you.” She bows her head to me, wringing her hands in distress as she turns her head to Oliver. “What would you like to drink?”

My pride in Ophelia and her convincing performance sparks a fire within me.

Oliver cocks his head. “Can she call me owner too?”

Not in this life. Not the next.“Only one man shelled out thirty million dollars for her, Oliver.”

“Technically, three quarters of that sum. But anyway. I see what you’re saying and still, you’re no fun.” He laughs. “Okay, then. Whiskey. Neat.”

“Make that two.” I gesture toward the den where I’ve been keeping the surprise for tonight. “Macallan. The one at the bottom of the wet bar. The one I don’t let you look at. Tonight, you have my permission to do it. This is a special occasion.”

His smirk deepens, and he takes a seat in front of the fire. Places an ankle over his knee.

“I’ll go get it for you.” She spins, the addictive scent of her hair attacking my senses.

I ignore the sharp pang of longing in my chest when she walks away. Instead of chasing after her, I lower myself to the seat next to Oliver. “So. What do you think?”

“I think I finally know why you’ve been hiding. The real reason.” My senses are on high alert, picking up on any change in his tone. “You’ve invited me over. With her here.”

Any elaborate explanation I might give him could potentially incriminate me.

Oliver, on the other hand, enjoys talking.

I let him, nodding.

“But you can’t control her. Not really, the way she ran off back there.”

A shrug. “She’s a feisty one.”

“Mm-hmm.” Apparently, that answer has pleased him. He leans back, adjusting the bulge in his pants. I fight the urge to cut his dick off his body and feed it to him. “I like it when they put up a fight. I never hurt them, but a little discipline every now and then is satisfying.”

“No need. She knows her place. When we share her tonight, she doesn’t have to like it. She’ll do it anyway.” My stomach roils. Bile rises in my throat. I might lose my shit by the time Ophelia shows up. “A gift for you, in exchange for my life. I could tell you suspected me, and I was done hiding.”

“Sharing it is, then.” His entire body brims with murderous energy. Worse. Predatory. “My fucking pleasure.”

“How’s Camden?” I change the subject. Fishing for more information. “Was our day in court what he’d expected?”

“That and then some.” Oliver chuckles. “He blabbered about it over dinner. Only stopped when I started talking about hunting a woman down. He’s thrilled that we get to do it together.”

Barbaric. “Yes, he mentioned that.”

“Join us? You and Topher?”

“Sure.” Hell no. “I’ll have to clear my schedule and ask Topher when he’s available.”

“Great, we’ll make?—”

Small, delicate footsteps bring our conversation to an abrupt end. Ophelia patters slowly across the living room, holding two crystal tumblers in her hands.

Effervescent. Submissive.

Mine.

---