Ronan
The little remaining bourbon in my glass swirls slowly as I turn it, the soft, yet smoky aroma hitting my nose as I watch the crowd bustle around me. It’s a lively night at the club, as auction nights often are. The ostentatious show of wealth, the promise of sex, the potential of what one winning bid might bring. It’s easily my favorite night at Salacious.
I almost didn’t come in tonight. It’s been a hell of a day. I couldn’t sleep last night, couldn’t focus on work today, and couldn’t muster the energy or the desire for sex if I tried.
Of course, death anniversaries will do that to you, though. They’re like evil little reminders dwelling on your calendar, not to be celebrated, but impossible to ignore. Even after twenty-eight years.
I toss back the remaining sip in my glass, just as the waitress passes by.
“Another, Mr. Kade?” she asks with an innocent-looking smile.
“Yes, please, Daisy.”
With a gentle nod of her head, she takes my empty glass and walks away. This girl showed up at the club after the holidays, and I find her strangely intriguing. She’s young, and far too angelic-looking to be a drink server at a sex club.
I have a keen enough eye to notice the way I intrigue her too. The way her gaze always seems to find its way to me, especially on Thursday nights. To her, I’m an enigma, someone to gawk at, to marvel, to internally question, but never to approach or speak to.
I get this reaction with a lot of people—mostly people who think I’m nothing more than a callous CEO or an arrogant Dom. And maybe that’s true, but I know how much I like to be surprised by the people I meet. I only wish the same opportunity was afforded to me.
Just as Daisy brings back my bourbon, this one heavily poured, I direct a curious brow in her direction.
“Happy bidding,” she croons with a sugary grin.
“Thanks,” I mutter before bringing the drink to my lips. No point in telling her I won’t be doing any bidding tonight.
Just then, the auction starts with a few familiar faces, men and women who grace the stage nearly every week. I know from experience that many of them will make every penny paid for their time worth it. Not that sex is mandatory in this situation. They’re simply offering up an hour, whether it be for drinks at the bar or in a private—or less than private—room.
It’s the eager and audacious attitudes toward sex that I appreciate anyway, which means I haven’t won the time of any willing participants that I didn’t enjoy.
When the beautiful woman with shoulder-length blonde curls takes the stage, looking a little more nervous than the others, I wish I were in the mood to entertain company tonight. She looks like the kind of woman who could hold a good conversation—before we fuck like animals, naturally.
There are two men at the back of the room volleying their bids back and forth, and I’m pleased to see her date going for over ten grand. She looks quite pleased with herself too.
Just as the bidding gets heated, I feel Daisy saddle up to my side. I do a double take, at first, wondering if she’s already here to refill my glass, but then I notice she’s wearing an anxious expression.
“Aren’t you going to bid on her?”
My brows pinch together as I gaze up at her in confusion. What on earth is Daisy so worried about?
“Is there some reason I should?” I ask skeptically.
Daisy has her bottom lip pinched between her teeth and she’s rubbing her fingers anxiously over the silver charm of her necklace.
“No reason,” she stammers. “Just curious. She…seems like your type, is all.”
This time my eyes widen as I completely turn my body in her direction. “She seems like my type? Do tell, what exactly is my type, Daisy?”
Now, I’m amused. This is by far the most words Daisy has ever uttered to me, and I can’t help but wonder if the woman currently on stage has put the young waitress up to this, doing her best to coax my bidding hand.
The auction proceeds while I’m staring at Daisy in curiosity. She looks almost pale as she watches the auctioneer—who’s really just the resident MC that Garrett has hired to run these events. I’m still waiting for Daisy’s response to my question as the announcer calls out.
“Sold to the man in the back for fifteen thousand!”
Daisy’s eyes are wide as saucers now, and before I can ask what the hell is going on, she scurries off like a frightened field mouse.
Meanwhile, the blonde is beaming down at the gentleman who walks up to the stage and takes her sweetly by the hand, leading her to the empty chair next to his. She looks pleased with how that turned out, and I smile to myself as I bring the bourbon to my lips, realizing that the club seems to have done its trick tonight. For the first time today, I’m not in pain, and it’s a welcome relief.
But as the next player takes the stage, this time a handsome sub, who I’ve heard likes a lot of pain, I realize I can’t get my mind off of Daisy. Standing from my seat as the bidding begins, I find Geo at the bar.
“Hey, where did Daisy go?” I ask.
Geo is pouring a glass of wine as his cheeks stretch into a toothy grin. “My guess would be halfway to Sacramento by now.”
“What?”
He laughs as he sets down the drink in front of the waiting woman. “She lost a bet and she’s probably hiding so I don’t make her pay up.”
My brows pinch together as I stroke my hand over my beard. “Did this bet happen to have anything to do with me?”
Geo’s smile grows more mischievous. “Maybe.”
With a shake of my head, I level a stern glare at him before returning to my seat. This explains Daisy’s peculiar behavior. I’m sure if I was working every auction night at the club, I’d find ways to make it interesting too.
When Eden takes the stage a few minutes later, I catch sight of Daisy nearly spilling a tray of martinis due to the shake in her hands. I don’t know what her wager was, but by the looks of it, she’s not too eager to settle up.
The bidding war for Eden goes down between a lot of patrons, as it usually does. It doesn’t take long before half of them are priced out and she’s standing on stage proudly, while a man and a woman go to war for her, costing them somewhere in the six digits. For most of these people, that’s equivalent to twenty bucks in their bank accounts, but as I watch my best and oldest friend see just how badly these people want to spend one sexy, fuck-filled hour with her, it makes me really fucking happy.
She deserves this.
The woman ends up on top—with the bids, I mean. And Eden wears an enthusiastic expression as she slinks off the stage and nearly drags the woman toward the stairs.
And I figure my night is over. Not a total loss for an evening at the club. I could have spent the last two hours of my night in much worse ways, so I toss back the rest of my drink and start to rise.
But that’s where the night takes a turn.
Just after the announcer starts to thank everyone for coming and declares an end to the auction, a voice bellows from the bar.
“Actually, we have one more!”
The announcer smiles at Geo from the stage. “Is our bartender joining us on the auction block tonight?” he says excitedly.
Geo snickers. “Oh, not me.” Then, I watch as he points directly at Daisy, and every pair of eyes in the room shift, landing on her. “Our drink server, Daisy, will be auctioning off a one-hour date for tonight!”
The MC looks straight at her. “Daisy? What a treat. Would you care to join us on stage?”
Her smile is forced as she meanders awkwardly up to the stage. I have to pinch my bottom lip between my teeth to keep from smiling like an idiot as I watch her take her place, front and center.
This answers my question. Daisy lost a bet, and it’s time for her to pay up.
When she’s standing under the lights, highlighting her nearly white-blonde hair and petite stature, I find myself suddenly admiring her for the first time.
She’s a cute, little thing. Long, wavy blonde hair that she always keeps braided down one side. Stunning sky-blue eyes and a button nose. But she’s young—too young.
Not that I have a problem dating women younger than me. I’m at the tail end of fifty-six. I don’t have a preference either way, but a woman as young as Daisy wouldn’t be interested in a man of my years, at least not for the right reasons.
I’ve learned that lesson the hard way.
She’s standing in the middle of the stage next to the MC in her tight little server skirt and black top with red heels. She’s holding her hands clasped together in front of her, looking way out of her comfort zone. I almost feel bad for her.
After an awkward introduction and some goading from Geo at the bar, they start the bidding, and I have every intention of only being a spectator. A couple people I know end up getting it going.
I find myself scrutinizing the people placing bids—low bids, if you ask me. One is a lawyer in his thirties, another, a younger guy I’ve spotted in the voyeur hall a lot, and then a new guy I’ve never seen here before. I shift in my seat.
I trust Emerson and the rest of the team to vet their members harshly, but there’s something about seeing a new face at the club that gives me pause. He looks like something the stock market spit out. Cocky expression. Cheap suit. Big attitude. And I can’t help myself.
“Fifteen,” I call. I figure it’s my fault she’s up there in the first place. The least I can do is save her from the misery of having to spend an hour with one of these guys.
Daisy’s eyes land on my face with her eyes wide as saucers.
“Ronan Kade bids fifteen thousand,” the announcer exclaims. “Do we have a challenger? Can I get sixteen?”
“Twenty,” the young guy returns. The other two stay silent.
My spine stiffens when I watch his eyes cascade over Daisy. He’s sure as hell not looking at her face. And something about him just gives me a bad feeling.
“Twenty-five,” I say with certainty.
This time, the kid in the suit turns to glare at me, adjusting the tie around his neck, clearly uncomfortable. As our eyes meet, I watch the fight in his expression die. He’s not going to outbid me, and he knows it. So it’s all a matter of how much he’s willing to risk and how badly he wants to get this fear-stricken girl alone.
But I promise, I’m ready to gamble more.
Pressing my shoulders back, I wait for his next bid.
“Do I hear twenty-six from the young gentleman up front?”
He swallows, then turns toward the stage. Daisy is starting to look a little green as she waits for the next move. Hesitantly, he raises a hand.
“Twenty-six!”
All eyes are on me as I nod to the announcer. “Thirty.”
Daisy bites her lip.
My competitor laughs, looking cocky.
“Forty thousand,” he calls out, trying to appear brave.
“Fifty,” I say, without even blinking.
The young guy comes back with another bid, and another, and another. I outbid each one until he nervously stammers, “Seventy-five.”
“One hundred thousand dollars,” I proclaim, my fingers thrumming against the leather of the chair.
There are stirrings of surprise in the crowd. Daisy’s already pale skin takes on a new shade of porcelain, like the keys of a shiny new piano.
“One hundred, going once…going twice…”
Her eyes dance back and forth between me and the young guy.
“One hundred thousand to Ronan Kade!” the MC announces, and Daisy looks about ready to faint.
I watch the young guy’s jaw click as he clenches it in frustration. The crowd cheers, staring at me in fascination as Daisy makes her way down from the stage, meekly walking in my direction, but then pauses when she reaches me.
I stand, putting out a hand, in which she places her delicate fingers. Her eyes don’t leave my face as she gazes at me with intrigue. Within moments, the crowd disperses and loses interest. So it’s now just me and a nervous-looking waitress.
“Are you all right?” I ask. There’s a tremble in her hand.
“Yeah,” she replies unconvincingly. Then she starts to shuffle her feet, looking around at the busy room.
“I have to finish my shift, but if you plan on sticking around for a while…” she says as her eyes cascade toward the bar.
A part of me wants to consider taking the date. I could escort her upstairs to my private room, get to know her a little better, maybe prove to her that I’m not, in fact, too old, too rich, or too boring. But something holds me back. That old voice in my head that sees her as a potential for heartbreak more than anything else.
So I touch her gently on the arm. “Actually, Daisy. Do you mind if I get a rain check on that date?”
Her mouth forms a small o as she turns to gaze up at me. “Of course.”
“I look forward to it,” I reply with a smirk, although I have no intention of cashing in on that rain check. “Have a lovely evening, Daisy.”
“Um…good night, Ronan.”
With that, I walk toward the exit alone and find my driver out front waiting for me. As I climb into the back seat, I realize that I never found out what exactly Daisy wagered when she lost that bet. But I make it a point to ask her another time. The last thing I want to be is predictable.
