Page 38 of Auctioned Surrender

“We found Ramiro, and you’re never going to believe what we learned.”

“Don’t keep me in suspense, Murphy.”

“He’s running with the same gang, Dame. We tapped into the police records and investigation documents and were able to place both men with the same gang. They have their eyes on both Ramiro and Bryanna’s brother and suspect them of trafficking.”

The connection can’t be coincidence, and before I’ve said a word, Murphy is confirming my suspicions. “Looks like we may have found our culprits. Although, one thing doesn’t sit well yet. I can’t find anything linking the gang they’re in with trafficking, outside of the two of them. In fact, the report I have put that motorcycle gang in the middle of a rescue attempt with a large truck full of women who were being transported earlier in the year.”

“Damn, Murphy. That’s exactly what was running through my mind. I was just looking back at some old files to find that too. Things can change, but they were staunchly opposed to trafficking not that long ago. Their position has either drasticallychanged, or something else is going on. Can you keep digging?” I ask.

“Roger that. In the meantime, the masquerade ball is still on for ten tomorrow night, and we haven’t found him yet. Every single name that was on the RSVP list Friday has accepted for Sunday night, so chances are that your very wealthy bidding opponent plans to make an appearance.”

“I’ll be working on a detailed plan tomorrow. Make sure I have all the intel I need before that time, and we’ll be in good shape,” I say.

“Will do. I’ll get a report over to you as quick as possible so you have time to brush up on it tomorrow.”

“Thanks, Murphy.” Our intel team is the best on the globe, and every one of the security agents knows it. We couldn’t do half the jobs we do without the information they are able to glean with their intelligence.

“No need to thank us; that’s our job,” Murphy says before signing off, leaving me staring at the four fuckers on my screen whose faces I’ve memorized, while focusing on the one that has Bryanna’s eyes and smile, the one right in the middle of everything that has happened to his sister and my green-eyed Doll.

On impulse, I send Murphy a quick text message to find out what he can about the relationship her brother has had with his family. I already know the surface stuff—loser dad drifting in and out of the children’s lives, bad back after a nasty spill, always popping pills and partying—but there’s nothing substantial enough to make me want to break Bryanna’s heart after all that she’s been through.

The ping on my phone lets me know intel will work on it. I pull up a few more documents to review in preparation for tomorrow’s masquerade ball before calling it a night.

The next day, I roll over and open my eyes, finding Bryanna fully awake and watching me. Her cheeks pinken with embarrassment, causing my pants to strain with the erection she’s caused, just looking at her in my bed. The guilt I initially felt for crossing the line between protector and lover has quickly subsided, because I already know this is not just a quick little tryst with someone I’m paid to protect. The magnetism of what pulls me to her is far more than that.

“Morning, Doll.”

“Are you hungry?” Bryanna asks.

I glance at the time. “It’s almost eleven, and I’m starving. Would you like brunch or an early lunch?” I ask, settling onto my elbows to look at her.

“Hmm, I’m hungry too. We wore off a ton of calories last night and slept right through breakfast. I feel like my entire schedule is out of whack, but my body must have needed the sleep. I saw a container labeled with spicy chowder in the refrigerator yesterday. It sounds like a New Orleans dish to me, and I’d love to try it. I can heat some up and make grilled cheese sandwiches to go with it, if you like,” Bryanna says, smiling up at me.

“Chowder and grilled cheese sound fine, but I’ll cook,” I say.

She looks up at me with those expressive green eyes between those lush lashes, and her brow knits. “You’re positive that I shouldn’t cook, or at least help?”

I know she’s been reading and exploring websites that emphasize different dynamics, and it gives me pause; another reminder that she is young. It’s my responsibility to ensure that she has a good experience and ability to explore her preferences.I already know how much she enjoyed being cooked for and fed, because I couldn’t have taken my eyes off her dilated eyes, rapid pulse, and erect nipples if I tried. “Because you want to, or because you think you should?”

“I’ve always thought that it was the submissive’s place.”

I narrow my eyes at her, because we both know exactly where she got it from. “Where did you read that?”

Her cheeks pinken, but just slightly, giving them a perfect little glow. “A website that I searched. It gave all the highlights in bullet points. The ten top things that a sub should learn and know how to do.”

I try to suppress my smile. She must have skimmed over the part where submissives get their little asses paddled for being dishonest. “I see. Well then, let me enlighten you a bit. There are many relationships where the sub cooks, cleans, and does many other things of the dominant’s choosing, but that’s because that act just happens to please that particular dominant, and his submissive is compatible. Are you looking for someone who will require you to cook and to clean? Do those things fill a need that you have to give, Bryanna?”

She doesn’t answer immediately, but I can tell she’s mulling it over.

“I can’t read your mind, Doll.”

Her eyes immediately lift and connect with mine. “I’m just not sure how to answer this in a way that’s not going to botch things up. I do enjoy cooking, and it’s definitely something I would like to do for you, but I absolutely loved when you cooked for me and fed me too. I adore how you take care of me and are always in charge,” Bryanna says shyly.

My chest tightens with the knowledge that once again she isn’t looking for a dynamic that I can’t give her. She may not realize it yet, but she’s just looking for someone to take the reins. This I can do, even accommodating her desire to cook at times.

We’ll go slow, because I’m enjoying discovering the facets of Bryanna’s submissive side immensely. “You can make an early lunch, and I’ll make some coffee,” I say, and she nods with enthusiasm.

“Sounds absolutely perfect! I’ll get it started,” Bryanna says, but I don’t miss the little smirk.

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