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Couldn’t stop imagining her draped in a very different position, so he could spank her ass red for such a stupid fucking stunt.
None of the other entrants had garnered such a strong reaction from him, and he couldn’t for the life of him figure out why ‘Ladybug’ did. There was just something about her, something almost familiar, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on…
Annoyed with himself for obsessing over her and the auction in general, he forced himself to minimize the site, since he couldn’t quite bring himself to close it completely. Part of that was simple curiosity. He was, despite himself, dying to know exactly how much a virgin was worth these days.
He managed to lose himself in the day-to-day minutiae of running a business until nearly ten, when he took a break to do his rounds on the floors. There were no new guests tonight, which he was grateful for, but he found himself wondering how many new requests would come through in the following days.
That thought made him pause. If the auction followed any kind of set pattern, perhaps he could go back through the club records and match the auction days with any new guest passes. There had to be some way to track down the source of the auction, and the only way he could think to do that was by backtracking through the people involved.
Unless he wanted to get Martin involved, which he wasn’t quite ready to do just yet. He wasn’t even sure why he was being so stubborn on that front when Martin could probably have the culprit locked down and the website out of business in under an hour. But knowing that someone was using his name, his club, to lend even an ounce of legitimacy to their bullshit auction made it personal. And he was self-aware enough to know he was going to continue being a stubborn ass about figuring it all out on his own, unless he was left with no choice but to call in reinforcements.
It was bad enough his brothers were already involved. But that couldn’t be helped, so he’d just have to tolerate them continuing to butt their noses into club business.
Oh, and look who just walked in, with the new love of his life on his arm? Damian, one of the twin banes of existence, with pretty little Emily beaming beside him as they made their own tour of the pit. Despite the grin on her face, Emily was walking a bit stiffly, which sent Braden’s mind tumbling down a rabbit hole of wondering what his brother had done to her before they’d come to the club.
It probably should have made him feel like a dirty old man, considering Emily was twenty years his junior, and his niece’s best friend. But there were plenty of submissives Emily’s age in the club who would—and had—thrown themselves at his feet if he gave them half a chance.
The fact that he couldn’t remember the last time he wanted any of them, regardless of their age, kneeling for him, wasn’t something he really wanted to think too much about.
“Damian. Emily. What a pleasant surprise.”
And it was a surprise, seeing as how his brothers almost never came by the club, despite being silent partners in the business. They’d taken the ‘silent’ part far more literally than he’d ever intended, but it suited him just fine.
Emily’s smile widened and she sent him an enthusiastic wave. “Hi, Braden!”
Beside her, Damian raised a gray brow in a gesture that managed to be both amused and slightly disapproving. “I figured you’d be upstairs.”
Watching the auction. The words were there, even if he didn’t say them. “I was, but I didn’t see much point in just sitting around. Did you have a room booked for tonight?” He knew they didn’t, as he’d also taken to reviewing all room requests as well as the guest passes, but he enjoyed putting his brother on the spot.
Not that Damian seemed bothered by the inquiry. “Nope. Just figured we’d come by and check on things.”
“He means check on you,” Emily said with a roll of her eyes. “We were worried because a little birdie said you’ve practically been sleeping here. What?” she added, eyes wide with innocence when Damian glared at her. “It’s the truth!”
Equal parts amused and delighted by her, Braden leaned in to brush a kiss over her cheek. “Thank you for worrying about me, sweetheart. And whenever you decide to dump Mr. Grumpypants over here, you know where to find me.”
As he’d hoped, Emily’s cheeks turned red and Damian’s hold on her waist tightened, eliciting a small squeak of surprise from her as he pulled her closer. “You have a club full of willing submissives, Braden. Go find your own.”
Again, the image of Ladybug, draped suggestively over her fancy furniture, her face obscured by a mask, flitted through his mind.
Goddammit Braden, get it together. Forcing a smile, he gave his brother and Emily a small nod. “I think I will. Have fun, you crazy kids.”
With his brother occupied, Braden made his way out to the lobby, where Shane was perched at the front desk. Compared to his usual club wear, he looked almost professional in a well-fitted corset and equally well-fitting dress slacks. “Hey, Daddy B. All quiet on the western front?”
“For now.” Stopping in front of the desk, Braden crossed his arms and stared down at his brattiest member. “Shane. Did you tattle on me to my brother?”
Shane cleared his throat and busied himself with straightening the front desk. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Uncrossing his arms, Braden leaned down to brace his hands on the sleek dark wood. “Shane. Look at me.”
Bottom lip puffed out in a pout any brat could be proud of, Shane reluctantly lifted his gaze to Braden’s. “Sir?”
“I appreciate your concern,” Braden said, letting his tone gentle a smidge. “And because I know your heart is in the right place, I will not be calling Mistress Rogue in so you and she can have a very public chat about keeping your nose out of other people’s business. I can’t guarantee I will be feeling so magnanimous should it happen again. Understood?”
Shane gulped audibly, his eyes going wide. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good.” Straightening, Braden plucked a candy corn from the bag on the desk and popped it into his mouth. Almost immediately, he regretted the decision. “Jesus. How can you eat these things? They taste like wax.”
“Delicious wax,” Shane returned with a grin, the sting of his chastisement already fading. “You should try the Thanksgiving mix. It’s awful, but I love it anyway.”
