She can’t be here. She can’t.
Madison Greene.
Seeing her is like a punch to my chest, knocking the breath clear out of me. I struggle to breathe, to think.
Last I saw her, she was hunched over my brother’s coffin, sobbing uncontrollably until her mother dragged her away. Her mother scolded her for making a spectacle. Evil cow.
What the fuck is Madison doing here at Low Vice—what is she doing in this auction, of all places?
And what the fuck is my body doing, reacting to the sight of her standing in a black bra and panties? A slender, gold belly chain catches the spotlight. Mesmerizing.
My dick should not be hard right now.
She’s Kyle’s. When he first brought her to my place to introduce his fiancée over dinner, they were both eighteen years old. I’d firmly put her into the no, never box. Didn’t matter how fucking cute she was. She could never be mine.
She’s my fucking sister-in-law.
No, she isn’t. Not anymore. Kyle is gone.
Betty gives an impish grin to the audience. “Here we have Miss M, a twenty-four-year-old young woman. She has had a total of three sexual partners, all men. She is open to bids from men and women this evening.”
I scramble to locate the paper listing auctionees’ kink preferences and hard limits. What are Madison’s? I scan the list. She likes to be dominated, bossed around. Light impact play. She’s willing to try anal play, but indicates she’s unsure if she’ll like it. She’s open to multiple partners, which makes her perfect for Damiano and me—we want to share a woman tonight.
But we can’t have Madison. She’s my brother’s widow.
Betty says, “Let’s start the bidding at ten thousand dollars.”
I don’t know what compels me to stick my fist in the air and raise the bid card. But I sure as fuck can’t allow someone else to win Madison. It has to be me.
Damiano nudges me. “Hey. What are you doing?”
“Yeah, sorry.” We’re going in on a woman together. I was supposed to check with him before bidding. “Any objections?”
“Hell no. You just surprised me.”
If he objected, what would I do? No fucking idea. I don’t move my arm. I don’t even listen to the prices Betty lists.
Someone must pass an instruction to Betty, who passes it along to Madison. Madison does a delicate turn, her brown hair kissing her shoulders as she moves. She sends a flirty little smile out to the audience, winking when she stops and faces forward.
I remember that about her—she hasn’t changed. She was always playful, flirtatious. She drove Kyle half-mad with jealousy sometimes. But she never flirted with me.
More bid cards go up instead of down as Betty raises the price. I can hardly blame the other players. Madison rubs the center of her chest and lets her hand float slowly down between her breasts, past her navel.
My cock twitches in my pants. Fuck, I have to get myself under control.
“We need her, man.” Damiano’s voice is a rough, eager whisper. “Do not put your bid card down for any reason.”
Like I could.
As Betty lets the bids climb higher, others start lowering their cards. Soon, I’m the last in the running.
“Miss M has been won by Seth C. and Damiano R. for twenty-seven thousand dollars.” Betty winks at us in congratulations.
Damiano swears exuberantly in Italian.
Madison’s gaze roves the audience before landing on my bid card, still held aloft. When she sees me holding it, her eyes widen and those plum-colored lips make an O of surprise.
That’s right, baby girl. You’re coming on my cock tonight.
