Page 3 of The Collector
"I want you to ask him what it'll take to get Mynx alone. Now. End the bidding early."
She hesitated, weighing the significance of his request. "Okay. Give me a minute."
Fifteen thousand dollars and one hour later, Raven and Jimmy struck a deal they could both live with for Mynx's time slot for Seven Minutes in Heaven. Raven took pride in the fact that he had sweetened the pot, getting an extra seven minutes added on—a small victory in a room where time was currency and desire had a price. Jimmy played hardball, closing the bid early being protective of Mynx's appeal. She was one of his top earners, and he guarded her like a prized possession.
The waitress slid another tray of drinks onto the table, her gum snapping as she pushed Raven's glass toward him.
"Hey, sweet girl," Raven said, watching the pink bubble pop against her lips. "Do you happen to know what Mynx drinks? I want to send something back before we meet."
She shrugged, chewing lazily. "Never seen her drink here. But she's into Cherry Cokes. Extra cherries." She blew another bubble, let it pop, and reeled the gum back in with her tongue.
Raven nodded, eyes narrowing slightly. "Alright. Bring me one, loaded with cherries. I'll have Stoker take it back to her." He slid a crisp hundred-dollar bill across the table to her. The waitress blinked, gum paused mid-chew, then snatched the bill like it might vanish, turning on her heel with her ponytail swinging, already halfway to the bar.
Raven leaned back, the din of the club folding around him like static. From his coat pocket, he drew a small tin—sleek, brushed metal, the kind that looked expensive even when it wasn't. Inside were two pills nestled like secrets. He tapped one into his palm, then hesitated.
He told himself it was just a shortcut. A little help. Something to smooth over any resistance Mynx might have. But the truth weighed heavier than the pill itself. Though the pill wasn't charming and wasn't about control; it would offer them a little something to help them relax in the moment.
He slipped one pill under his tongue, dry-swallowed. He held the other between his thumb and forefinger, watching the light catch its surface. It looked harmless. Almost pretty. He dropped it into the cherry Coke just as Stoker approached, his expression unreadable.
"Take this back to her," Raven said, his voice low. "Tell her it's from me. Extra cherries, but don't give her my name. I want this to be anonymous."
Anonymous for now.He knew she would eventually find out who he was.
Stoker took the glass without a word, but his eyes lingered a moment too long, as if questioning Raven's motives. Raven didn't flinch. He paid for what he wanted, and he wasn't leaving without it. What Stoker thought really didn't matter.
The music pulsed through the walls, low and primal, syncing with the thrum in Raven's chest. Each beat seemed to crawl under his skin, coaxing anticipation from places he didn't know he could still feel. He moved down the hallway toward the VIP suite, his steps slow and deliberate—like a man walking into a ceremony, not a transaction.
He raised a hand to his face, fingers brushing the edge of the mask. Still secure. Still him, but not quite. The anonymity made it exhilarating. It allowed him to want what he shouldn't. To take what he had paid for. Often, he didn’t have time for what he wanted or needed. The King's and his father's expectations had always come first. Tonight, he was letting go, living in the moment, being himself— not the heir to the Capo position.
The hallway narrowed, the lights dimming to a bruised red.
Somewhere behind the silk curtain, Mynx waited. He had bought fourteen minutes, plus seven more. Now he had to survive it, survive the way he wanted her. He hoped the dance would take away his desire for her; sex usually did. It was a purge, not a connection. Now all he had to do was get her agree. Raven had yet to meet a woman who made him want more than just the act itself. And he was okay with that. Wanting more meant needing, and needing meant weakness. And weakness was a luxury he couldn’t afford.
Inside the VIP room, a long leather booth stretched along the back wall, resembling a throne designed for customers' indulgence. Raven sat in the center, arms draped wide and legs parted, claiming the space with a quiet authority. The lighting shifted—dim and moody, tinted with violet and blood-red hues. Above the door, a timer blinked fourteen minutes. It hadn’t started yet, but his pulse had. He could hear it in his ears and feel it in his throat.
Marilyn Manson's cover of "In the Air Tonight" began to hum through the speakers, slow and haunting. The curtains parted.
Mynx crawled into the room with a black rose clamped between her teeth. Her eyes locked onto him, watching for any flicker, shift, or tell that would reveal his excitement. Raven leaned forward, hand extended, unable to mask the way his body responded to her presence.
She moved towards him on hands and knees; her movements were deliberate and feline. When she reached him, she nuzzled the side of his leg with her cheek and then dropped the rose at his feet, like an offering. Only then did she take his hand and rise.
His throat went dry.
Her mesh dress clung to her like it was painted on—black over red leather, with a bra and thong that turned suggestion into torment. She straddled Raven, her legs folding around his hips.Her scent wrapped around him like silk and static; it was sweet, like honey and vanilla, with a hint of heat. And in that moment, he wanted her more than any woman he had ever seen.
She leaned in, pressing her chest to his face, and he inhaled her like oxygen. For a moment, he couldn't tell where his body ended and hers began. The hunger in him wasn't just physical—it was cellular. Starvation disguised as desire. His cock was hard as steel as it pressed against the thin layer of leather covering her warm folds. He could feel the heat from it calling to him.
"I'm Mynx," she said, "but I guess you already know that since you paid for my time this evening." She locked her eyes on his as she spoke, as if trying to see the man behind the mask. Her brown eyes, swirling with green and gold, were soft and welcoming as she moved her hips to the music. "And you are?"
"I’m at risk of spontaneously combusting if I can’t get you to let me inside this gorgeous body of yours."
Damn if that didn’t sound cheesy.Raven mentally kicked himself.
She laughed. “Oh, I think you're confused that's not why I'm here. I’m here to give you a show " She said playfully as she ground deeper against his hard length, letting a small moan slip from her red-painted lips.
“The heat rolling off you tells me everything I need to know about why you're here,” Raven murmured, voice low and rough. “And from the feel of it you want me as much as I want you. Say you don’t, and I’ll back off. I can feel the attraction—pulling between us like static electricity. I know you feel it too.”
He leaned in, lips grazing the pulse at her neck. A lick. A slow, deliberate suck. Then a bite—just enough pressure to make her breath catch. He growled in her ear and watched as she curled her spine as the sound vibrated through her.
