Page 15 of Auctioned Surrender

As a dancer, the routines are not complex, because it’s a passion, something I love and have done for years, but I’m not usually in a crowd, definitely always dressed, and never in heels that are this fricking high.

I sashay across the stage, proud that I haven’t already come tumbling face-first atop these stilts, as the crowd whistles, sends out catcalls, and chants for me to take it off!

I do my best to shake everything off, put it out of my mind, and focus on the music, but an almost magnetic draw pulls my eyes in the direction of the back corner of the room, and as my eyes meet those of the man at the high-top table, my entire body quivers with recognition and uncontrollable desire.

Chapter 11

Damian

I’m mesmerized, watching as Bryanna’s hips sway gently to the music, building the tempo along with the beat until she spins and begins to absolutely command the stage. My eyes are riveted on her body, and there is no way I can turn away. Bryanna senses me watching her and turns toward me, searching me out in the dim light of the club. The minute her eyes meet mine, they lower. The audience may think she’s a little embarrassed, or that she’s just playing coy, but I’ve come to know that little tell. I shouldn’t be so damn attracted to my charge or to her submissive side, but hell if her every move doesn’t make my blood race with desire.

I watch as she finishes, and the MC tells the crowd to settle back in and order a drink because she’ll be back shortly for a couple more. The men hoot and holler, banging the bottom of their beer bottles on the tabletops. “Settle down now, men,” the MC says. “She’s just putting on another little costume for you, and for those of you who may have been waiting for your favorite tonight, talk to your waitress, because they’ve been freed up to play.”

My jaw tightens at the very thought of Bryanna doing another dance, much less more. This throws a wrench into all of my plans. I have to go and meet the blonde who just came offthe stage. I can’t stay here and protect Bryanna, which means another one of my team is going to have to come in and do it for me so Dereck can continue to cover the other side of the room. The thought of them sitting here watching my green-eyed Doll dance her way out of her clothes inexplicably pisses me off to no end.

I send a text to Matt, because he’s completely head-over-heels in love with Marenah, and for whatever reason, that makes me feel slightly better, but not much. The lights go dim, with little sparkles of silver light hitting the stage as Bryanna comes back into view. This time her hair is piled on top of her head. She walks out onto the stage, swaying to the rhythm of the sultry beat. The lights sparkle lightly around her as the smoke clears, and she’s left in a spotlight in the center of the stage.

Bryanna is dressed in a crisscross top that covers her firm and perky tits, but just barely. If she inhales too deeply, her pert little nipples are going to pop right the hell out of the strappy top. Her torso is completely bare and shows off an indented little waist that flares into the curves of her hips and ass, which is covered in only a black and silver thong.

I can’t take my eyes from her as she teases, and she feels me watching her. Through the throng and daze of the lights, her eyes search mine out and then find them. I don’t even pretend to hide the desire running through my veins. It would do no good; she senses it, her green eyes hazy and simmering with desire. Bryanna continues to tantalize the crowd, swaying gently before slowly removing her top, and baring the pink tips of her nipples. This show is for me, regardless of how many people are in the room. Her eyes don’t leave mine as she bares herself, touches and taunts the erotic flesh, and then slowly walks toward the pole in her six-inch black-and-silver strappy heels.

I glance down at my watch, knowing exactly how long it’s going to take me to get to the hotel. I’m also pretty certain thelady will wait, and she’ll need to, because my feet wouldn’t move right now if my very life depended on it.

Bryanna caresses the pole with one hand in time to the erotic beat, slowly walking herself around it, her long, toned legs and beautifully shaped ass on full display atop her sexy heels. She gains a bit of motion, swings herself around, slow at first, just teasing the crowd, building their anticipation, before her feet lift off the ground, and she spins gracefully around the silver rod. It’s like gravity has left her body, and even my throbbing cock takes a break as I watch this magnificent creature swirl around and around until finally she grasps the pole with a curved ankle and slowly lets herself slink down its length before finishing in a wide-open split for the crowd.

The room goes crazy, everyone yelling at the top of their lungs, men closer to the stage throwing untouched bills at her, but as she comes up from her pose, her eyes know exactly where I’m at. Her eyes don’t leave mine for a minute as the crowd gains tempo in their cries and chants for more.

I have exactly ten minutes to get my ass to the hotel so I can get information to save Bryanna’s ass, but damn if it doesn’t take everything that I’ve got to actually stand on my feet, put one foot in front of the other, and leave her in the room dancing for these men. I walk out, and Matt walks in. He’s good at undercover and doesn’t give me so much as a glance as we pass. I may not like that he and Dereck will both now see her in this state of dress, but I do know that her life is safe in their hands, and getting to the bottom of what’s put her in this situation is what matters right now.

I race to the Honda, and Garrett’s in the driver’s seat.

“Where’s Evers?”

“I don’t think pops trusted me with the limo, so you’re stuck with me. Keith and someone named Scottie are on backup.”

My eyebrows raise, because I didn’t realize Scottie was still in the States. Last I heard he was going to be working on the opposite side of the ocean, but if this ends up being a cross-continent issue, he’s got a hell of a lot of connections with all the overseas bureaus which may come in pretty fucking handy. “Sounds good” is all I say.

“Keith sent me the address. The Vintage Hotel on Testle Ave. is about six minutes away. Buckle in, unless you wanna be late,” Garrett says, easing out of the parking lot and then flooring it as we reach the main drag.

He pulls up to a low-to-mid-class hotel in record time, and I get some of the guys on a call. “Same drill as always. I’ll text every ten minutes. You don’t hear from me, you send someone to check on me last. You get word to every man we’ve got to make sure Bryanna gets out of that bar safe tonight,” I say.

“We had it the first time.” Evers is usually a man of little words, but him and everyone on the call can be depended on to follow through with my direction, even if he is a grumpy smart-ass.

I check in at the nondescript little hotel desk as Mr. Goose at exactly 10:01 p.m. How the hell does a young, lanky, nineteen-year-old-looking kid who looks as though he should be playing video games, eating pizza, and drinking soda manage to find himself behind the counter of a hotel fronting for a brothel? He searches the screen in front of him for my reservation, and his eyes register recognition when he finds it. “You have room 314, on the top floor. Take the elevator, and it’s down the hall to your right.”

I’m sure the third floor of this hotel is about as prestigious of a room as they have. I refrain from giving him a tip, or just a talk about life, not wanting to draw attention to myself, but there’s something about the kid that makes me want to take him under my wing and get him the fuck out of here.

I exit the elevator and head down the hall to room 314, briskly knocking, waiting to see if the woman at the club will have the good sense to look through the peephole and make sure it’s the same person who got cleared by the waitress, or if she’ll just open up the door to anyone who knocks.

Mikah opens the door immediately, and I would be thoroughly disappointed, except there’s something in her eyes as she assesses me that makes me believe she hasn’t yet been conditioned to this shit.

“Who cleared you at the bar?” she asks.

“Waitress named Hannah.” Clearly anyone who knocks on that door doesn’t just have permission to come in and take what they want. Mikah’s careful and takes precautions, and I like that.

I push the door the rest of the way open and follow her, sending a quick text to the group to let them know I’m in her hotel room as we reach the living room.

Mikah’s dressed in a bright red corset, fishnet stockings, and black-and-red-heeled shoes that have to be at least five inches in height.

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