There’s no mistaking the need in which he’s referring to.
He locates the door he’s searching for, and we enter another large empty room, furniture covered with sheets. He keeps going, and then we’re bursting outside into the crisp night air. Crickets sing their nightly song, lightning bugs glowing intermittently as we pass by. He drags me through a literal maze of a garden, green growing high above our heads. Disk lights are implanted in the ground, guiding our way.
“This looks like something that belongs in Italy,” I murmur, more to myself than him. He doesn’t answer, determined to bring me deeper into the garden to ensure we’re alone.
I don’t normally think flowers have a strong scent but enveloped in so many, it’s heavenly.
There’s a bench ahead, and Teddy walks faster with renewed energy.
“Have you ever had sex in a garden?”
His question shouldn’t catch me off guard since that’s clearly been what this whole mission is about, but it does anyway. “No. Never in a public space.”
He groans in a way that I know my answer pleases him.
We reach the bench and he shucks off his tux jacket while I get rid of my shoes. “Fuck, I need to be inside you,” he growls, fumbling with his belt. I swear it looks like his hands are shaking. Belt undone, he shoves his hand in his pocket and rips open a condom foil. “Pull your dress up,” he commands, undoing his pants enough to pull his cock free and sheath himself with the condom.
I do as he asks, pulling my dress up to my thighs. He sits on the bench and grabs my hips, yanking me onto his lap. I squeal with the sudden movement, my hands landing on his shoulders for support.
His fingers skim up my inner thighs and he hisses between his teeth when he finds me bare and wet.
“You mean to tell me you haven’t been wearing panties?”
I shrug casually but my words come out breathless, betraying me. “You can’t risk panty lines in a dress like this and I loathe thongs.”
He groans, dropping his head into my chest. “You’re never wearing underwear again.”
And with that statement, he grips my bare hips and pulls me down on him.
My head falls back. “Oh my God,” I exhale at the intrusion. I feel so full.
I rock my hips against him, his fingers digging bitingly into my ass. Holding his cheeks in my hands, we’re forehead to forehead, eye to eye, breath to breath.
It’s incredibly intimate despite the location and our mostly dressed state. I’ve never felt more exposed. Like Teddy can see every bit of me. The good, the bad, the ugly—all of it. And he doesn’t look afraid. His eyes seem to say give it to me, give me every part of you
With that thought, I fall apart, shaking around him.
My muscles clench around his cock and this sets him off. He pounds into me harder, groaning through his own release.
It all happens so fast, but it’s the most powerful sex of my life.
I know that no matter what happens between us, I’ve been irrevocably changed by this moment and given a piece of myself to Teddy that I’ll never get back.
When our eyes connect, I know he feels it too, and a tiny piece of him settles in the space where I gave him a part of me.
We put ourselves back together, shooting heated looks and coy smiles as we right our clothes. Back in order, we clasp hands and reluctantly head back to the madness.
We’re outside the main room, the auction still in full swing, when I announce, “I need to go pee.”
“Oh, right.” He rubs his fingers over his forehead like he should’ve known. “Restrooms are right there.” He points me to the door. “I have to go back to the table.”
“I’ll be there as soon as I’m done.”
Slipping into the bathroom, I expect to find a normal one like in any home. Of course, this isn’t the case. Marble extends from the floors to the counters, and then up the walls. It’s laid out like a public restroom with separate stalls, and there’s even a room off of it that’s a lounge.
Shaking my head at the ostentatiousness of it, I pass by a few other attendees who stare at me funny for my open gawking and lock myself in a stall. After peeing and cleaning myself up, I straighten my dress and wash my hands. My hair is mussed from our garden tryst. I do my best to bring order to the unruly sections, feeling the tiniest bit bad that I messed up Danika’s hard work—but not too bad, because it was entirely worth it.
Mascara is smeared beneath my right eye. Using a tissue from the counter I wipe it away.
Stepping out of the restroom, I bump into someone, immediately mumbling out an apology as the person’s hand wraps around my arm to keep me from falling in my heels.
“You and I are going to talk.”
My body goes cold at the sound of Mr. McCallister’s voice. All of my happy fuzzy feelings from before are erased beneath his shrewd gaze. He yanks me into a room down the hall. It appears to be some sort of meeting space, if the long table and chairs are any indication.
“Sit.”
I do as he says, a tad scared of the what the repercussions might be if I disobey.
He pulls out the chair across from me and sits, his hands clasped on top of the table.
“Why are we in here?” I ask, hating that my voice shakes with nerves, betraying my attempt to appear composed.
His eyes narrow on me until they’re nothing but tiny slits. “To talk.”
“About what?”
“About you staying away from my son.”
I sit up straighter, holding my chin in the air in refusal to cower. “That’s not going to be possible.”
“Oh, I think it is. You will break up with him, and you will do it in a way that doesn’t show my involvement.” My heart gallops a wild beat, sweat beginning to bead on my brow. This man is intimidating regardless, but knowing he beats his own son doesn’t leave me appreciating being shut in a room with him where no one knows we are. “I’ve been suspicious of your relations from the start.” His eyes peruse my body, not in a way like he’s checking me out—ew—but as if I’m gunk caked beneath his expensive shoes. “My son doesn’t chase after women like you. He prefers models, actresses, not some overweight back-talking bitch from some stupid town called White Claw.” He sneers the name. “And before you open that wretched mouth of yours, don’t you worry missy, I’ve done my digging—my lawyers have done the digging, and don’t think we didn’t uncover the fact that my son paid off your tuition. I’m far from dumb, young lady, it’s obvious to me that something fishy is going on here. What do you have on him?”
“E-Excuse me?” His accusation has me reeling. That wasn’t what I was expecting him to say, or where I thought this rant was going.
“Do I really need to repeat myself?”
“I don’t understand the question.”
He laughs in a way that lacks any humor at all. “My son is reckless without a care in the world or a semi-coherent thought in his head.” I open my mouth, ready to protest that none of that is true and he doesn’t know Teddy at all, but he plows ahead. “For him to pay your tuition, I’m assuming you’re blackmailing him for something you witnessed that could ruin his reputation, as if it isn’t already in shambles. I’m guessing all of this,” he waves a hand to encompass my fancy get-up, “is a part of it too. Get him to pretend to be your boyfriend and all kinds of opportunities open up for you.” Pursing his lips, he leans toward me but there’s still an ocean of distance between us thanks to the size of the table. “Name your price, whatever it is I’ll pay it. The only stipulation is you are never to speak to him again.”