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She was never going to sit comfortably again.
Charlotte glanced up just as he approached, her face draining of color for a moment before she jerked her chin upward, defiance etched into her expression.
“Charlotte. Killian. I’d like a word with both of you in my office. Now.”
Unsurprisingly, Charlotte leaned into Killian, her expression turning smug as she lifted her martini glass and sipped at the bright pink concoction. “This is a private conversation, Mr. Elliott.”
Bracing his hands on the table, Braden leaned in, excitement licking along his nerves as her eyes widened with a hint of fear. “You are in my club, little girl, so let’s get something straight right now. My club, my rules. And seeing as how you are already in a world of trouble for lying to my receptionist, I suggest you don’t make things any worse for yourself than they need to be. Now, would you like to discuss your misbehavior in the privacy of my office, or would you prefer to be strapped to a bench in the middle of the pit so the entire club can watch Master Killian and I teach you the lesson you so obviously need?”
Just like the day before, her pupils widened with every word and by the time he was finished, her breath was coming in short little pants past her parted lips. And now, he couldn’t even blame it on the alcohol. No, her reaction was purely that of a naughty little girl who had been caught red-handed by a very angry Daddy.
He couldn’t remember ever being so fucking hard in his entire life.
“Come, little one. Let’s not make a scene.” Killian’s grin flashed, full of all the same filthy thoughts currently running through Braden’s mind. “At least, not yet.”
“Fine.” Still clutching her drink, Charlotte slid from the booth. “But I’m taking my cosmo.”
“Good.” Braden smiled, deliberately putting a bit of wicked anticipation into the gesture. “It will give me a color to match when I paddle your ass in a moment.”
He took great pleasure in watching her falter on those impossibly high heels that made her legs look a million miles long, even as he reached out to steady her. And if he didn’t release her immediately, it was just because he wanted to be sure she didn’t fall. Nothing more.
Killian followed behind them all the way up to Braden’s office, and he swore he could feel the amusement rolling off the other man in waves. The smirk on Killian’s face was confirmation as he brushed past Braden and settled himself on one of the leather couches and patted the spot beside him. “Come sit with me, little one.”
Braden opened his mouth to tell her otherwise before clamping it shut. Regardless of how he felt about her lying her way into the club, the fact of the matter was, she wasn’t his submissive.
That knowledge didn’t help to curb the swell of possessive jealousy that rose up in him when she flounced across the room and snuggled up under Killian’s arm with a smirk of her own.
“Before we get into the nitty-gritty of your lack of honesty,”—he pinned Charlotte with a glare before shifting his focus to Killian—“and your lack of respect for the club rules, I have a few questions.”
“Ask away,” Killian said with a lazy wave of his hand.
“First off, how the hell did you two even meet?” If Emmett had gotten himself in with the Irish mob, he and Braden would be having some words. And most of them would probably make a sailor blush.
“As if you don’t know,” Charlotte answered with a derisive snort.
“Me? How the fuck should I know?”
The pair on the couch shared a look before Killian turned his piercing gaze back to Braden, all trace of amusement suddenly gone from his expression. “The auction. I had assumed you were kept apprised of each transaction.”
Images flashed through Braden’s mind, of a gorgeous body draped over expensive-looking furniture and his stomach churned with the mixture of emotions flooding his system. But that couldn’t have been her. That girl had claimed to be a virgin. “Charlotte. Tell me you did not put yourself up for auction.”
“I thought I wasn’t supposed to tell any more lies.” Her voice was syrupy sweet as she batted her eyes up at him and it took every ounce of self-restraint he had not to haul her up and bend her over right then and there.
Luckily, Killian had obviously caught onto the fact that things were not as they seemed, and he frowned at her with all the ferocity of a disapproving Daddy. Charlotte shrank in on herself, as if she could somehow make herself small enough to escape his wrath.
“A sharp tongue will get you nowhere, little one. Answer Master Braden’s questions politely, or you’ll be answering them with a striped bottom.”
Charlotte’s mouth fell open at the threat. “You can’t spank me!”
“Quite to the contrary. The contract you signed allows me to do whatever I wish with you for the evening, within your limits, which includes spanking that naughty little backside of yours. Unless I hear the word ‘red’ from your pretty lips, you will do as you are told, or you will be punished by either myself or Master Braden. Have I made myself quite clear?”
“Sure. Whatever.”
Killian’s lips twitched with amusement. It was well known he had a soft spot for bratty submissives. “Thank you. Braden, continue.”
“Answer the question, Charlotte. Did you put yourself in a sex auction?”
“Yes.”
