Naughty Bits Part IV: The Highest Bid

Berkley Heat titles by Joey W. Hill

The Vampire Queen’s Servant

The Mark of the Vampire Queen

A Vampire’s Claim

Beloved Vampire

Vampire Mistress

Vampire Trinity

Vampire Instinct

Bound by the Vampire Queen

Taken by a Vampire

Unrestrained

Berkley Sensation titles by Joey W. Hill

A Mermaid’s Kiss

A Witch’s Beauty

A Mermaid’s Ransom

Something About Witches

In the Company of Witches

Anthologies

Laced with Desire

(with Jaci Burton, Jasmine Haynes, and Denise Rossetti)

Unlaced

(with Jaci Burton, Jasmine Haynes, and Denise Rossetti)

Specials

Honor Bound

Controlled Response

Naughty Bits Serial

Part I: The Lingerie Shop

Part II: The Training Session

Part III: Bound to Please

Part IV: The Highest Bid

Naughty Bits

Part IV

The Highest Bid

Joey W. Hill

InterMix Books, New York

INTERMIX BOOKS

Published by the Penguin Group

Penguin Group (USA) LLC

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014, USA

USA • Canada • UK • Ireland • Australia • New Zealand • India • South Africa • China

penguin.com

A Penguin Random House Company

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

NAUGHTY BITS: THE HIGHEST BID

An InterMix Book / published by arrangement with the author

PUBLISHING HISTORY

InterMix eBook edition / July 2014

Copyright © 2014 by Joey W. Hill.

Excerpt from
Honor Bound
copyright © 2010 by Joey W. Hill.

Excerpt from
Controlled Response
copyright © 2008 by Joey W. Hill.

Penguin supports copyright. Copyright fuels creativity, encourages diverse voices, promotes free speech, and creates a vibrant culture. Thank you for buying an authorized edition of this book and for complying with copyright laws by not reproducing, scanning, or distributing any part of it in any form without permission. You are supporting writers and allowing Penguin to continue to publish books for every reader.

Cover design by George Long.

Beautiful Brunette
© PawelSierakowski/iStock/Thinstock.

All rights reserved.

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.

For information, address: The Berkley Publishing Group,

a division of Penguin Group (USA) LLC,

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

eBook ISBN: 978-0-698-13599-4

INTERMIX

InterMix Books are published by The Berkley Publishing Group

and New American Library, divisions of Penguin Group (USA) LLC,

375 Hudson Street, New York, New York 10014.

INTERMIX® and the “IM” design are registered trademarks of Penguin Group (USA) LLC

In our previous three installments, Madison has gone deeper and deeper into the world of Dominance and submission with Logan, even as she gains more confidence running her sister’s erotica shop. Now, at last, she must decide if she’s brave enough to embrace this world permanently, as Logan’s submissive. Logan has told her he is going to take her on a guided fantasy, bringing it to life, and she has a feeling it will be a turning point for both of them
 . . .

As the door to Naughty Bits opened, Gloria Estefan’s “Wrapped” started up on the music system, the sultry intro earning a startled look from the woman who’d entered.

“It’s like having your own theme music, announcing your arrival. Pretty cool, right?” Madison gave her newest customer a smile. She did it from a kneeling position, because she was working on her newest display. The antique lingerie chest, a piece she’d picked up cheap at a consignment store and re-finished with Logan’s help, was perfect to display an array of lace panties, bras and corsets, draped over the half-opened drawers and hung on the knobs.

The woman offered her a tentative smile. She was middle-aged, with attractive auburn tinted hair and brown eyes. Her manicured nails and tailored clothing weren’t polished enough to suggest executive management, but likely the strata that kept the wheels running in the office. Perhaps executive assistant. The type of person who would ask for what she needed, when she needed it.

It gave Madison a fleeting thought of herself, working as an investment manager all those years, polished up and always looking the same outside, no matter what might be brewing beneath the surface.

“If you need help with anything, just holler,” Madison said, holding eye contact to tell the woman she meant it, not just a store employee offering a rote response to a customer.

The woman nodded. “Do you have . . . costumes?”

“We do.” Giving a demi-cup bra one more quick adjustment, Madison rose to her feet. “A variety of them. Which one are you planning to use to dazzle your lover?”

“Oh . . .” The customer chuckled. “Ah, maid?”

“A classic.” Madison took her to the rack on the wall and showed her a traditional black-and-white outfit, complete with frilly apron and very low-cut blouse, matched by the high cut of the miniskirt. As the woman fingered the fabric, her expression reminded Madison of the disastrous times she’d sought out lingerie to bandage her own failing relationships. The look in the woman’s eyes wasn’t a true mesh with the desires she was harboring. Confirming it, she spoke.

“I’m not sure. I really don’t know if he’d even like this sort of thing.”

“Do
you
like the idea?”

“Maybe. I just remember years ago when we saw a movie that had a sexy maid in it, and how he liked that. Maybe I’m being foolish. It seems to take more to get him interested these days since he turned fifty, and I thought maybe something . . .”

What can I do to get him to pay attention again? To look at me the way he did at first?
It was as clear as if she’d said it aloud, but the silence said it was too painful to be voiced.

Not more than a couple months ago, tangled up in her own baggage, Madison would have been unable to help, beyond offering the woman the number to a good divorce attorney. Since then, she’d connected with her own desires, thanks to Logan’s direction. As such, Madison could step back and look at the situation from the woman’s perspective, sympathizing with it, but not getting it confused with her own. This woman was dealing with middle age libido issues with her husband. A simple thing that wasn’t so simple when dealing with the heart. “Would you mind telling me your name?”

“Nancy.”

“Nancy. I’m Madison. And if you don’t mind a couple suggestions, I think you may be focusing on the wrong person here. There’s a good kind of selfishness, the kind that helps everyone involved. We have to be able to turn ourselves on before we can turn on a lover. As obtuse as guys can be, nothing centers their radar like a woman who’s getting hot and bothered. It also sounds to me like rather than taking him on a wild rapids ride, you need to take him to a secluded lagoon.”

At Nancy’s blank look, Madison drew her to the bookshelf. “Does he like to read?”

“He’ll spend a whole day with a book on the weekends and he reads at bedtime every night. He’s even read my romances when he has nothing else.” Nancy gave a little laugh. “Wasn’t self-conscious about it at all. Said he liked a couple of the historical ones.”

“Wonderful. Who gets home from work first?”

Nancy shrugged. “He does, usually.”

“Okay. How would you feel if you came home from work and he met you at the door, naked and ready to go at it like rabbits?”

Nancy put her hand over her mouth, stifling a surprised giggle. Then, seeing Madison wanted her to consider the question, she did, and whatever went through her mind sobered her. “Well, I expect I’d feel a little pressured. I mean, I’d be glad he was interested, but—”

Madison waved a hand, accepting that. “Of course you’d feel pressured. My point is that maybe that’s his problem. When we’re in our twenties or, God help us, our teens, it’s all about our hormones. At fifty, it’s about his boss, about the job stresses, the jerk who cuts him off in traffic on the way home. Whether there will be enough money for the kids’ college, retirement, the vacation you’ve both always wanted to take to Europe. You have to help him change gears when he comes home.”

As Nancy digested that, Madison picked up a book selection. “How about one Friday night, you suggest reading to him? He can put his head in your lap, close his eyes.”

She put the book in Nancy’s hands. “This one is a ménage a trois, with one man and two women, written with both genders in mind. Plenty of things to intrigue him, as well as you. There are sketches in it as well.”

Nancy flipped open the book and blanched. “Wow . . . ” She gave it a closer look while Madison suppressed a smile. “That’s actually very . . . nicely done.”

“Yes. There’s some erotic photography in there too. Again, things that will appeal to him visually and you emotionally, the best of both worlds.” Letting her hold on to the book, Madison took her to a different section of the store and picked up a remote control panty with bullet vibrator in the crotch. She made a mental note to order more, since she’d sold about half a dozen of them this week.

“Encourage him to be interactive. When you’re reading, switch this on, show him what you’re doing. Get yourself worked up, and draw him into the spell. Then turn the remote and the reins over to him, so he feels like a man, like he’s taking the lead. I bet things will take a good turn.”

She took a breath. “If they don’t, then maybe you need to dial it down further—or shoot him in the head and bury him in the backyard—but what’s most important is getting in touch with what you want, Nancy. Pleasure yourself and invite him to take the journey with you. That’s the key to reconnecting to him. If he’s worth anything at all.”

A few minutes later, as she was checking Nancy out with a generous purchase that included a couple of the books and the panty, she saw Clarence’s UPS truck turning into the alley. Today was Friday, and not just any Friday. It was one of those Fridays where he might be bringing her something from Logan. When she heard the motor idle outside her back door, then Clarence turning the back room door latch, delight surged through her.

Nancy flicked a glance at her as she swiped her credit card. “You must have ordered something nice. You look like a pony just arrived at your birthday party.”

She hadn’t ordered anything at all, which was exactly why she had that look on her face. A week ago, Logan had told her it was time to give her the guided fantasy he’d promised her, a tantalizing erotic threat. She expected whatever Clarence was delivering would officially kick that off.

That same night, Logan had taken her for an after dark walk in a park near her neighborhood. He’d done nothing more than hold her hand, flirt, and let her talk about a hundred different things. Then he’d backed her against a tree and given her long, hot kisses that made her feel like a teenager out necking past curfew. She’d had a stubble burn on her throat the next day she’d caressed with her fingers when she discovered it.

He’d refused to take things further that night, but he left her reeling with the possibilities, thanks to his parting words.

“Can you clear your Sunday next weekend?”
At her nod, those brown eyes had kindled with heat.
“Then do it. I have plans for my sub.”

She still leaned toward keeping their relationship a chain of erotic sessions, nervous about moving too fast into deeper territory. However, the obvious care Logan put into making those sessions special and unique perversely transferred those qualities to their relationship as a whole. The man was far too clever.

Nancy took her leave with a smile and a nervous look, but nervous in the right kind of way. Madison well understood the feeling. While she engaged Clarence in pleasant conversation, she had to quell her impatience to shoo him out of the store before more customers arrived and she’d have to wait to find out what was in the package he left on her counter.

As he was leaving, though, he paused at the curtain to the back storeroom and looked back at her. Like most UPS drivers, he was fit. Not very old, maybe a couple years younger than Madison, but she’d often wondered about his story, because there were lines around his eyes, and a look in them that said he’d had some interesting journeys in his life.

“I bet Alice smiles every time she looks down from Heaven and sees you behind that counter, ma’am,” he said. “You fit here. You really do. Not like you’re her, but like you were the best person to honor this place. To honor what she made of it. I think that’s why she gave it to you.”

It was the most she’d ever heard the quiet man say, and it left her staring after him as he beat a hasty retreat. He lifted a hand before he disappeared out the door, though, and she automatically raised her hand in answer, giving him a warm smile again so he didn’t feel awkward about it. After the door shut behind him, she thought about it, though. And smiled.

“I really didn’t fuck this up after all, did I, Alice?”

Each person walking through her doors was a potential story or desire to realize, just as Logan had said. As Alice had said. Madison wondered why she’d spent five years of her life doing something that didn’t speak to her heart the way this job did. And pursuing relationships so different from the one she was in now.

The answer to that was pretty simple. She’d been looking for love, a relationship, instead of actualizing herself. Moving to a new place, realizing how much she enjoyed doing this, gave her a different sense of who she was, almost as if she was becoming a more evolved Madison. One who was involved in . . . something . . . with an extraordinary man. A Master.

As she picked up the box, she knew she might be about to evolve even further—if she could hold on to her courage with both hands.

The box wasn’t as small as the last one, but too small to hold a full costume. Shaking it, she heard what sounded like several loose items.

“Why do you shake a present before you open it?”
She remembered her eight-year-old self asking Alice. “
You’re going to open it anyway.”

“Why do you smell chocolate before you bite into it?”
her sister had rebounded.
“It’s the same thing.”

Lately, Madison had been shaking packages as well as savoring her chocolate. Good changes.

When she opened the box, the first thing she saw was an embossed invitation on heavy, cream-colored paper. When she opened it, the handwriting looked like a woman’s script.

Novitiate, your training is complete. It’s time for you to be claimed by a Master. At six p.m. this coming Sunday, you will wait in a kneeling position inside the door of your quarters, leaving the door unlocked. A servant will retrieve you for the auction. It will be the last time you see your home. Wear and bring nothing but what is contained in this box. Prepare yourself exactly in accordance with the instructions. —Training Mistress

What Logan had coaxed from the deepest, most shameful corners of her mind was her recurring desire to play out a fantasy where she was a female sex slave, trained to serve a Master. The pinnacle of the fantasy was an auction where the highest bidder would take possession of her. A particular bidder—a soldier. Quelling a little quiver in her lower vitals, she looked deeper into the box.

She lifted out a utilitarian collar, no more than a buckled strap with several D-rings placed around its circumference. There were chains attached to it. A diagram showed her how it fit. The chains ran to a set of nipple clamps, and then continued around back to be reconnected to the collar. As she registered the weight of the chain, imagining the pull, her nipples gave a twinge.

At the bottom of the box was a thong like she’d given Nancy, a bullet vibrator inserted into the crotch panel. There was no obvious way to turn it on, suggesting it was remote-controlled, but that piece wasn’t included. Her heart fluttered as she thought of the control in Logan’s hands. The thong’s back strap had a metal ring sewn into it. Glancing at the bottom of the box, she found out why. She also found she was starting to breathe a little more shallowly. The room had become even more silent, the air dense, pressing on her exposed skin.

She pulled out a butt plug. It was about three inches long, but thick as a man’s cock. As Logan’s cock. Opening the folded sheet included with the announcement, the referenced “instructions,” she started to read. The quiver of the paper told her she was shaking.

From here forward, you are not allowed to pleasure yourself in any way. Or be pleasured. A single infraction will incur severe punishment. Twenty-five strikes with a switch.

You will not speak to anyone about your preparations or the auction. For eight hours before you are picked up, you will not eat, or drink anything but water. You will not watch television, read or do anything to occupy your time except think of how you will serve your new Master.