Her Troika by Trent Evans Page A

don’t want anyone looking at her.”
    It was such an odd thing to think, but it just popped in there, before he had a chance to filter it through reality, sanity, or logic.
    Such things appeared to have taken leave of this place.
    “What do we do now?” Derek hated the uncertainty in his voice, almost as much as he hated the erection he knew his jeans were failing to hide. This whole thing was fucked. Truly fucked. Yet here he was, staring at her. Staring at the generous, heaving breasts he longed to feel fill his hands, at the long, pink nipples he wanted to taste on his tongue, at the big, wide eyes he wanted to kiss the fright from.
    “You bought her my friend.” Kurt slipped past Derek, moving into the stall to stand over his wife. “She’s yours to do whatever you like with. That was the deal.”
    Breanna’s eyes moved up to her husband’s, and Derek saw something exchanged there, so much said without a single word.
    “Then I want her covered up. This is insane.” Derek scanned the enclosure. “Gotta be something we can give her.”
    Kurt turned back to him, an eyebrow raised. “Why would you do that? She’s here to be seen. That’s also part of the deal.”
    “Is this up to me or not?” The surrealness of this conversation was almost painful. “You said she’s mine, right?”
    Kurt’s jaw clenched, then he held up his hands. “All right. You’re right, she is.” He walked back outside the stall. “Hang tight.”
    Then he found himself, alone in a building filled with people, with his friend’s wife, naked, on her knees, helpless.
    “I — I have no idea what the hell I’m supposed to do here.”
    “I’d say you’re doing—” Breanna’s throat moved. “—just fine.” She flashed him a nervous smile. The same smile that lit up her face, the few times he’d met her. How she’d managed it in this situation, he’d never know.
    You need to stop being a fucking pussy, and just roll with this. She picked this, remember?
    He tried not to look directly at her as he spoke, but thought better of it. Absurdly, he didn’t want her to think that he didn’t want to look at her. God, all he wanted to do was look at her. All night long. For the next hundred nights.
    “I need to know if what he told me … is this something you really — wanted ?” He met her gaze. “I can’t do this if this was forced on you. I just can’t.”
    The relief he saw in her eyes buoyed his spirits, and she smiled again, this time with more confidence. “I chose to be auctioned, yes … ”
    “Here comes the ‘but’, right?”
    She dropped her gaze a moment, color flushing her cheeks. Then she met his gaze again. “What happens afterward, after the auction …it’s not up to me.”
    “You mean you — just do whatever he says?”
    He looked behind him to see if Kurt had returned. No luck.
    “I do whatever you say.”
    Whoa.
    He took in the whips handing from a row of hooks on the wall beside her, and thought what they might do to her—
    Stop it. Right now.
    Breanna’s brow furrowed, and she glanced beyond him.
    “What’s wrong?”
    “I’m—” the flush bloomed fully then, coloring her entire face. “—I’m not supposed to talk.”
    “ What ?”
    She swallowed hard. “That’s one of the rules when I come here. No speaking unless spoken to. It’s always been that way.”
    “What … why?”
    This was getting weirder by the second, but he’d be lying if he said part of this intrigued him. Was this some sort of elaborate role-playing thing? Is that was this was all about? Then he thought back to what he’d witnessed, what he’d heard out there, and thought better of it. If this was just a game, it was the most elaborate mind-fuck of a game he’d ever heard of.
    This was the real deal.
    “Jesus H,” Derek said, rubbing his chin. He looked behind him once more. “I need to see where the hell Kurt … ”
    “Don’t go, please Derek. Sir.”
    A chill traveled down his spine, even as his