SOLD: Auctioned to the Billionaire (Steele Series Book 1) Read online

  But Killer Kamp 4 had never brought in a crowd like this.

  Clap ! Fingers and nodding and pointing; clap!

  One man stepped through the crowd, his piercing green eyes fixed on her. He was even more handsome than she recalled from that first fleeting glimpse, with broad shoulders and an athletic build under his perfectly tailored tuxedo. He stepped toward the stage and her eyes locked on his, the two staring at each other as if there were no one else in the room.

  Amid the clapping and the nodding, this man raised his hand and snapped his fingers, a loud clack ! that filled the hall and captured the auctioneer’s attention. All eyes fell on the green-eyed man at the foot of the stage. With the hand he’d used to snap, still upraised, he extended his index finger, a wordless one.

  There was a hush even in that silent crowd, people looking at each other as if they’d just seen a ghost; one that had just paid one million dollars for the weekend.

  The auctioneer looked around, nobody else nodding. He clapped his fingers and raised his own hand, index finger pointing upward to match the man in the crowd. The auctioneer’s partner took Kerri by the hand and led her down the front of the stage and to the green-eyed man before returning to the stage.

  Kerri and the man looked into each other’s eyes. Saying nothing, he extended his forearm. She slid her lithe limb under his black sleeve and let her arm rest on his as he led her through the room and toward those double doors.

  Beyond them lay a weekend she could not imagine but she was sure would never forget.

  Chapter Four

  A valet pulled a gorgeous black Mercedes Benz AMG GT S sports car, his red-jacketed partner holding the door open for Kerri while she climbed in. Her companion climbed in behind the wheel and the valet closed the door.

  “Wait a minute,” Kerri said, “We haven’t even been introduced.”

  “What makes you think I want to know your name, or that I would ever tell you mine?” A tense silence filled the plush car before he spoke again. “You can call me Harden.”

  “Harden?”

  “Harden Steele. You?”

  Kerri hadn’t even thought about using a fake name, but now it seemed more than reasonable. “Chastity,” she said. “Just Chastity.”

  He smiled, gunning the engine. He raised his hand and she placed her own in his. “Nice to meet you, Chastity,” he said, gently kissing the back of her hand.

  A lump rose in Kerri’s throat. “And you, Mr. Steele.”

  “Please, Harden.”

  Harden gunned the accelerator and the car jumped forward, a low hum leaking out of the hood.

  Harden drove quickly, but he was alert and quick, never missing a stop sign, never hesitating. Kerri couldn’t help but flash on her late husband, Mark, his last moments sailing off that mountain road, how terrified he must have been despite the drugs and the booze.

  She looked at Harden and saw a completely different man, a man for whom control was obviously a way of life. His hair was perfectly groomed, his clothes without a single wrinkle, gold cufflinks shining, amazing car spotless and gleaming. He threw the car into gear and the engine purred at his touch, hugging the road before jumping on the freeway and tearing east toward the beach.

  Kerri was intrigued, and nervous enough to be driven to small talk but she sensed that Harden would resist, that he wasn’t interested in sharing any of the details of his life. Maybe that’s best, Kerri told herself, and even better that I don’t share any details of my own.

  He took the 10 West to the Pacific Coast Highway heading north of the Santa Monica Pier toward the famous art colony, Malibu. Harden finally pulled the car up just as a big wooden gate opened inward and Harden coasted the Benz through it. The gate closing automatically behind them made Kerri jump as she watched it close in the side mirror. All or nothing, she told herself.

  Harden’s beachside mansion was an incredible Spanish villa, tastefully lit with a simple large fountain in the center of a brick roundabout.

  A man rushed out of the massive front doors and hurried to open Kerri’s door just as the car rolled to a stop. Harden opened his own door and walked around to escort Kerri from the car into the house, the young man getting into the Benz and driving it to the nearby garage.

  The house was huge, a giant foyer and staircase framing the open center room, living room adjoining to the left, what seemed like a massive music room to the right, dominated by a white grand piano.

  They stepped through the house, oil paintings hanging in gorgeous frames, familiar names painted in the corners…; Picasso, Rembrandt, Monet.

  Black-jacketed servants and girls in French maid costumes hovered silently in the other rooms, barely noticeable. Harden noticed Kerri peering at them.

  “They’re paid to be unnoticed,” he said. “Quick, quiet, clean.”

  “I see.—” But the idea that she was surrounded by men and women loyal to this man, servants she could hardly see and could never count, only made Kerri more nervous. The thought that loyalty to their master, not to mention private and personal hungers, might inspire them to participate in some terrible gang assault. Kerri imagined herself besieged by half a dozen of Harden’s fancy henchmen, holding her down while Harden himself closed in, peeling off his shirt, his goons holding her legs spread despite her fitful struggle and useless protests.

  “Are you hungry?” he asked her, interrupting her thoughts. Kerri knew better than to eat on a date, especially if sex was on the playbill but she really was famished, and something told her she’d be needing her strength. Nodding her head, she smiled politely. “Excellent” Harden gestured toward the back of the house. Dinner should be served almost immediately. It’s a beautiful summer night, shall we dine al fresco?”

  “Let’s,” was all Kerri felt that she needed to say; even that felt like it was spoiling the mood.

  The salty ocean breeze was refreshing against Kerri’s bare shoulders, the lobster was buttery and flavorful, a perfect accent to the juicy, peppery steak. Kerri took a sip of chardonnay to wash it down, crisp and refreshing.

  So silly to have been worried, Kerri chastised herself. He wouldn’t do anything to me here, would he ? One disloyal henchman, one untrustworthy witness and his life of luxury is over. Surely not even this man could be that arrogant!

  Kerri looked around, hoping a fake smile would help her relax.

  What a night, she reminded herself, what an experience ! Why can’t I relax and enjoy it ? A handsome, mysterious man, a magnificent beachfront palace, the most delicious food I’ve ever had. What could possibly go wrong?

  Everything.

  But it was too late to second guess herself, Kerri knew. Whatever was going to happen, she needed to stay there and see it through. Nothing short of death was waiting for her on the other side of those double doors. If I die in here, she reasoned, it won’t be much worse than dying out there.

  “Chastity, are you all right?”

  Kerri snapped out of her reverie. “Yes, I’m sorry, it’s just … the food, it’s delicious.”

  “So are you,” Harden said with a smile.

  Kerri smiled awkwardly and a tense silence returned, waves crashing in the near distance. “May I ask … what it is that you’re going to do to me?”

  Harden raised his eyebrows, still chewing on his asparagus. “What would you have me do?”

  “Well, I … ” Kerri had to clear her throat. “I just mean, you seem to have spent a lot of money, I’m sure you have something … special in mind?”

  “How do you know I spent anything at all?”

  Kerri hadn’t given it too much thought; it seemed perfectly obvious to her. “The index finger, you and the auctioneer both did it. That didn’t mean one dollar, I don’t suppose.”

  “It could have meant a lot of things,” Harden chastized. “It’s nothing for you to be troubled about.”

  “Well actually, it is; doesn’t most of that money go to me ? I have a right to know how much I’m worth. And if I have to endure
some kind of weird humiliation or something, I want to know now how much I’m getting for it. That’s only fair.”

  “You want to know, so you can change your mind and leave?”

  Kerri sensed the increasing tension, but she’d stepped past the point of no return. “Maybe.”

  Harden smiled. “I have rights, Chastity, all weekend. I paid very handsomely for them.”

  “Well, all right then,” Kerri said. “That’s really all I needed to know.”

  “What you needed,” Harden repeated, “Interesting turn of phrase. What is it that you need, Chastity ? Besides money, I mean.”

  “I beg your pardon?”

  “You were obviously on that block for a reason.” He looked her over with a smile. “I know it’s not because you can’t find a man by more conventional means.”

  Kerri tried not to show her offense. “My husband died last year.”

  “I know.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I know who you are, Kerri Abernathy, I know all about you.”

  “But how did you— ?”

  “It doesn’t matter.” Kerri knew he was right; with the internet and the IMDb, anyone can learn anything about anyone in a matter of minutes. Harden went on, “Mark McCall was a good actor, but one thing he couldn’t do was act like a man.”

  Kerri wanted to be offended, and even if she truly wasn’t, she felt she had to say, “Excuse me?”

  “What you need, getting back to it, is a man, who can take control; control of himself, control of you, of your body, of your will.”

  “Is that so?”

  “It is.” His tone was emphatic making her bristle.

  “And you think you’re that man.”

  “I do … because I am that man.”— A long, trembling tension passed between them before Harden went on, -“I am sorry for your loss, but surely a year of mourning is long enough.”

  “More than enough,” Kerri responded, not realizing she’d said it aloud. “So why where you there in that auction room? -Surely a man of your resources and … attractiveness doesn’t need to pay for a woman’s company, no matter what your intentions are.”

  Harden said, “Who says I need to pay?”

  “You want to pay ? Is that some part of your control fetish?”

  “I want the best,” Harden said. “And that always costs.”

  “Just what is it that you expect for your money?”

  Harden looked at her, long and cold and silent. Taking a sip of wine, he set down his glass. He stood up and silently walked around the table, his fingers curling around Kerri’s naked upper arm. He gently pulled her up out of her chair.

  “Hey,” she said, nervousness in her voice, “What are you doing?”

  “I’m answering your question.”—

  Chapter Five

  Pulling her to her feet, Kerri offered only the slightest resistance to his quickened pace into the house and up the big staircase. She asked him, “What are you gonna do ? Where are we going?”

  He pulled her up the stairs, her feet scrambling to keep her upright while he made his determined way toward the second floor. The higher up they went, the faster her heart beat, creeping into the backs of her ears, veins throbbing on the sides of her neck. “We’re going to my bedroom,” he said.

  “Why ? What are you gonna do to me, damn it? Why won’t you answer me?”

  “Because words are cheap, Kerri.”

  They reached the top of the stairs, Kerri’s heart beating faster, louder in her ears. “I … I don’t understand.”

  “You will.”

  “No, I won’t!” With a hard yank, Kerri tried to pull her arm free of his grip but failed. “I won’t go anywhere or do anything with you until you tell me!”

  “You need to learn a few things about control, Kerri. I’m going to teach them to you.” He pulled her down a long, wide hall.

  “What do you mean?”- Kerri let her increasing frustration and anger disguise the fear in her voice. “Are you going to tie me up, is that it ? Don’t whip me; I don’t want to be whipped!”

  Harden just glanced at her, a half-smile growing on his roguish face. Then with another hard tug, he pulled her along to the double doors at the end of the hall. He opened the door, only darkness awaited her on the other end. “Wait,” she said with a quick snap of her voice, “What’s the safe word?- What are the rules? I don’t like this, Harden, I … I’m afraid.”

  Harden turned those piercing green eyes on her, a strand of his black hair falling in front of his furrowed brow. “Good,” he said simply before gently pushing her into the room and closing the door behind them.

  Kerri’s heart was pounding, her mouth dry. She looked around the big room, dark but for a shaft of moonlight streaming in through the big windows, a balcony beyond it. Kerri stood nervously, expecting Harden’s hand to clamp down over her mouth, for him to throw her onto the bed and ravage her. Admittedly, she wasn’t entirely against it, though at that moment she wished she could have just stayed home.

  The moments remained quiet, no explosive delivery of rape lust, no hand wrenching her own behind her back. Instead, Harden loomed behind her, closer to her trembling body as he led her to the bed. Her eyes were quickly acclimating to the moonlight, and she could see the huge footboard, thick rods of heavily polished walnut. Harden positioned her to face the bed, his hands finding her wrists from behind and setting them onto the walnut footboard, her hands too small to wrap around it. His hands remained around her wrists, his head leaning in to whisper into her ear, hot breath collecting.

  He growled, “Tie you up ? Is that what you want, is that what you expect?”- Kerri opened her mouth to answer, but no words found their way out. Harden seemed to expect it and went on in his low, sexy voice, “There’s control there, sure, and I will control you, Kerri, in every way. But that’s physical control. First you have to learn about mental control.”

  Kerri’s mind began to swim, her legs trembling as Harden pushed her hands close together, one of his big, strong hands clamping around her wrists to hold them together. His body was pressed against hers from behind, and she could feel his massive erection in his slacks, pressing hungrily against her sensitive, muscular ass.

  Harden’s free hand began to roam, tracing up Kerri’s left arm toward her breasts, nipples already hard and awaiting his touch. He whispered, “You leave those hands on that footboard, Kerri. You hear me ? Don’t move those hands.”

  Kerri sighed and nodded, eyes dipping shut.

  Tightening his grip, Harden demanded, “Answer me, Kerri.”

  “Yes,” she said, barely a whisper.

  “No, Kerri, tell me what you’re going to do!”

  “I will … I’ll keep my hands on the footboard.”

  “That’s right, you will.”- Harden’s fingers finally found her left breast, hands strong but gentle as they slid along the underside, barely touching her nipple.

  Despite herself, Kerri found herself lurching forward, easing her breast into his hand. She jumped when he slapped her breast, a surprised jolt shooting through her chest. “I’ll decide what and where,” he growled, “I’ll decide how much and for how long. You understand me?”

  “Yes,” Kerri gasped, “I understand.”

  “That’s right,” he said, his fingers returning to her breast for a passionate squeeze, fingers splayed over her firm tit. He nuzzled the nape of her neck, gentle kisses contrasting the firmness of his grip. Kerri let her head fall back.

  While his left hand lingered over her breasts, his right hand left he wrists and quickly found the curve of her flawless hip, flat palm sliding over her upper thigh and inward, her smooth and dewy crotch ready to receive him. She parted her legs, arching the small of her back, pushing up as his finger barely traced her twitching labia. Her clit was already creeping out to meet him, but his touch was only a tease, distant, a suggestion of what was to come.

  Kerri moaned and thrust her hips forward in impatient passion, but Harden pulled his
hand away again, leaving her loins aching for satisfaction.

  “Don’t you move those hands,” Harden warned as if reading her mind or her twitching arms, fingers wriggling on her hands as if already fingering herself with crazed vigor. He was right; she was fighting every impulse to reach down, to jam his hand into her, to bring frenzy to her frustration.

  “Don’t do it,” he warned, his fingers still just barely touching her twitching twat.

  “Please,” Kerri said, a gasped plea, “Oh please, Harden.”

  “Please Harden, what?”

  “Please … fuck me, fuck me now.”

  But Harden answered with a hard, cruel slap, flat on her right ass cheek. The surprise of it, the snap of pleasurable pain that raced through body, was almost enough to knock her off her feet.

  “Don’t you let go,” Harden warned before delivering another hard slap, this time to her left cheek. The sound filled the room, underscored by her loud scream. Harden kneaded her other cheek, a gently prodding massage, before executing another hard blow, this one ringing in her ears, breath pushed out of her lungs. “Don’t you dare let go.”

  Kerri stood there trembling, eyes extracting more and more light from the dark room. Harden stood behind her, the buckle of his belt filling the quiet room as his clothes fell with a muffled thump.

  Kerri separated her legs even farther, fingers trying to hold onto that thick wooden rod as he positioned his condom-covered cock at the entry of her hot, wet pussy. It rested perfectly, and without seeing it, Kerri could tell it was massive, the head only suggesting the length and width that was to come. With a gentle push, Harden pushed that big head into her and stopped there, allowed just that round introduction to linger between her twitching labia. Her clit rubbing against his head like the meeting of two old friends from another lifetime, and she eased back to encourage him to delve deeper. But he backed up, always the one to be in control. She stopped and waited, knowing he would not keep her in suspense much longer.

  Harden slid his cock just a bit deeper, and Kerri’s tight pink tissues thrilled at that passionate pressure. He stopped, pausing, before drawing it back just a bit and then starting an even series of shallow jabs, each one heightening Kerri’s senses, every nerve rising to the surface, juices heating up to a boil.