Page 2 of Break Me Not

“Not really something you can do… I mean, of course we’ll benefit from it. It would be a lie if we said we won’t, but you can think of this as a little present for you. After all, you've treated us so well throughout the years, so how about we repay you?”

Sloan walked toward me as she said it with that cat-like smile of hers. I could tell that she was scheming something, and I didn't want to be a part of it.

But then there was a little voice in the back of my head reminding me of the one thing I wanted to push away.

You could do with the money. After paying the artists, your commission isn’t enough to make a dent in the divorce lawyer’s fees.

“Five hundred,” I said, looking at Ax. “But I’m not willing to throw in free labor or anything like that. I'm a busy woman and I don't have time for your games.” Or the money.

“No games here.” Sloan swept out her hand toward me. “An auction. Similar to the ones you’ve been to, but in our case, we’re selling a different type of art.”

There was only one thing a BDSM club would sell at an auction, and it had me scoffing at her.

“Sloan, what makes you think I'd ever buy⁠—”

“You would be the piece.”

Ax’s words had my heart freezing in my chest.

Me? They want to auction me off?

A wave of insecurity hit me.

During meetings like this, I'd always dress my best. Simple but expensive. Tasteful. Today I was in a deep blue, high-neck dress that hugged my upper body and draped down my legs with a slit. It was cinched at the waist, highlighting my curves, but the main feature was the open back that showed off one of my post-divorce gifts to myself.

I had carefully put my hair up in a more professional manner, and I wore simple makeup so as not to overshadow the art.

The fine-line inked drawing of flowers crawling up my spine was pretty, but not auction-worthy at all. And neither was I.

I was a divorced, forty-two-year-old with a grown child. I still had stubborn stretch marks from my pregnancy. As much as I tried to fight it with treatments and good skin care, wrinkles were showing. And I was nowhere as fit as all the other girls they had in this club.

Nor was I… experienced.

“We’ve talked about your interest in the club,” Ax explained. “And I know you've been here multiple times, so you know what we're about. You can say no, but trust us when we say that this truly is a gift for you. We’ve heard about the divorce. It couldn’t have been easy to give him half of everything you worked so hard for.”

“And the house,” Sloan added.

I pursed my lips. Of course they were sticking their nose into things they shouldn’t be.

A gift for me.

I folded my arms over my chest, feeling unsure.

They were right. My greedy bastard of an ex-husband had taken half of everything I worked for because we hadn't signed a prenup.

Back then, I was nothing more than a stay-at-home mom who barely had anything to her name. I’d built my career through hard work and dedication—and he took advantage of that in the divorce.

Over the years, Ax and I had had multiple conversations about the club. Having been here on more than one occasion, I would be lying if I said I didn't imagine myself as one of the girls I saw getting fucked in one of the voyeurism rooms.

But would anyone truly purchase me?

“I don't think you would be suggesting it if you didn't get something out of it.” I looked between them. “What is it?”

“Excited patrons,” Sloan said with a smile. “A new way to bring the club together. A more competitive way for people to match⁠—”

“Commission. Twenty percent.”

Leave it to Ax to be the one to keep it real.