Page 49 of Sold to Her Enemy

A man wearing a bright red tuxedo walks on stage, introduces himself as the concertmaster.

“Welcome to the Orchestra Hall, gentlefolk. You are all in for a treat this evening. Tonight we are thrilled to host Ava McIntyre!” into Ava’s impressive resume as the conductor steps onto his block and the orchestra files in, takes their seats and starts tuning.

“Mckenna,” I take her hand in mine and rub my finger along her soft webbing. “Look at me, hellion.”

She shakes her head back and forth. I grip her harder until her bright green eyes meet mine.

“You’re mine. Act like you want to be here, now.”

She bites her lip but squeezes my hand back and I hope my harshness has jarred her out of her panicked frozen state. The audience breaks into applause as my sister strides onto the stage.

Ava is wearing a gold dress, and her long black hair is loose over her shoulder.

She takes her seat at the grand piano.

The lights dim, and my sister, looking as ethereal as a saint, places her hands on the piano. The long, haunting notes of the concerto fill the space. I nudge my leg closer to Mckenna’s, and she grips my hand, but I want more than that.

Right here, in this theater, with the well-dressed people and the stately elegance, I want this woman to come undone.

I want to force her to choose between maintaining dignity and letting go.

Breaking the cardinal rule of the theater, I shield the screen, bring up the app, and click on the medium setting.

Mckenna shifts forward in her seat. My hand closes around her arm. She stares right ahead, but I smile, seeing her squirm on the edge of her seat. If she thinks she has trouble holding it together now, let’s see how she does with the vibrations on the full setting. The entire audience is silent. All eyes are focused on my beautiful sister, the relaxed line of her body, and how her hands float across those keys. Like every article ever written about her says, she was born for this.

I tap the intense setting.

Mckenna reaches back from where she is poised on the edge of the seat and grabs my knee. The notes float around the space, lovely and mesmerizing and timeless.

And beside me, I’m with the woman I’ve always wanted.

The one who always told me I couldn’t have her.

I hate her for that.But I have her now.

Sticking my foot between hers, I nudge them apart because everything that is happening between us in this dark theater is by my decree.

I am the one who is conducting Mckenna, and I don’t care if she likes it or not.

As if she’s swallowed a sour piece of fruit, she inches back, her back ramrod straight, until she’s flush against the seat.

I pull her leg over even more, forcing her legs open for her pussy to feel exposed in this high-profile setting.

“Give it to me now, Mckenna,” I say into her ear.

In time to the high melody, I tap the app to the intense setting because I want to see her fight for control.

As she grabs the lapel of my jacket, I brush my lips against her cheek, feeling her quiver.

Her top teeth bite down on her bottom lip.

She gasps against me, muffling her cries into my jacket.

My cock is so hard I might bust a nut right here, in this seat, right along with her.

I hold down the intense setting and don’t let it go. “I can’t! Not here!” she pants against me.

Her shoulder digs into my chest as she gasps for breath, a shudder rippling through her. My eyes are glued to the stage. If anyone looks at us, what are they going to see? I don’t care what story they tell themselves.

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