# The Transaction (Emerald Tiger)
Zoey stood before the full-length mirror in the master suite, the emerald green dress hugging every curve like a second skin. The fabric shimmered under the soft lighting, highlighting the graceful line of her shoulders and the dramatic plunge that revealed the smooth swell of her breasts. She turned slowly, admiring how the dress clung to her hips before flaring slightly at her thighs.
As she moved, the dress flowed like liquid mercury, revealing the subtle hints of what lay beneath—or rather, what didn't. At Brad's insistence, she had worn nothing beneath the dress, a deliberate choice that made her feel powerful and dangerous. In the mirror, she saw not just a woman preparing for a gala, but a tigress about to mark her territory.
The door opened quietly, and Brad stepped in, his breath catching as he took in the sight. He leaned against the doorframe for a moment, his eyes appreciative and possessive.
"God, you're stunning," he breathed, his voice thick with desire.
Zoey turned to face him, a slow, predatory smile spreading across her lips. "Do you like what you see, Brad? Or are you just thinking about who else might be getting a view tonight?"
Brad moved closer, his hands settling on her waist as he pulled her against him. "I'm thinking about how many men will wish they were in my position tonight. How many will envy me for having you on my arm?"
His hands roamed possessively over the smooth fabric of her dress, his fingers lingering on the curve of her hips before sliding up to her back, pulling her even closer. "And I'm thinking about how much I'm looking forward to an exciting night."
Zoey's smile turned knowing. "The gala itself or what happens afterward?" she asked, her voice a low purr.
"Both," Brad admitted, his lips brushing against her ear. "But mostly what happens afterward. After you've established your dominance."
Zoey shivered, not from cold but from anticipation. "I've been looking forward to it too," she confessed. "That Venezuelan has no idea what she's up against."
Brad's laugh was deep and appreciative. "That's my girl. Always ready for a fight."
He took her hand, his fingers intertwining with hers. "Come. The car is waiting. It's time to make an entrance."
Brad escorted Zoey from the penthouse, his arm possessively around her waist as they rode the elevator down to the lobby. Doormen and staff watched them with undisguised admiration, but Brad barely noticed his surroundings. His attention was fixed entirely on Zoey, on the way the emerald dress clung to her, on the confident sway of her hips as they moved.
As they stepped into the waiting limousine, Brad's hand slid up her thigh, his fingers tracing the smooth skin beneath the hem of her dress. Zoey leaned into his touch, her own hand moving to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath the fine fabric of his tuxedo.
"You know," she murmured, her lips brushing against his ear as the car pulled away from the curb, "Milena's probably getting ready right now. Probably trying to decide which dress will make the biggest impression."
Brad's hand continued its upward journey, his fingers slipping beneath the edge of her dress. "Let her try," he whispered back. "Tonight is about you, Zoey. Always has been."
Zoey smiled, a dangerous, predatory expression that promised retribution for anyone who dared challenge her. "Just remember your promise, Brad," she warned, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial tone. "The grand reward is only for the winner."
Brad's fingers found their target, and Zoey gasped, her body arching into his touch. "Don't worry," he promised, his voice thick with desire. "You'll collect in full. After you've proven once and for all who rules this roost."
The city lights blurred past the tinted windows of the limousine as they made their way to the gala, two predators on their way to a battlefield disguised as a charity event. And Zoey, the emerald tigress, was ready to claim her prize.
# The Transaction (Battlefield)
The grand ballroom, adorned with expensive art and filled with wealthy conversation, glittered under crystal chandeliers. As Brad and Zoey entered, all eyes turned to them. Brad guided Zoey with pride, his hand resting on her back beneath her emerald dress.
He steered her toward his ex-wife, Eleanor, standing with her younger, less wealthy husband. Eleanor’s eyes widened as she saw Zoey, especially the dress that seemed painted on.
"Brad," Eleanor said, her voice tight with forced civility. "And Zoey. You're looking... well."
Zoey smiled, a slow, predatory expression that promised trouble. "Eleanor, you look... rested," she said, her eyes taking in the other woman's designer gown with exaggerated scrutiny. "That color certainly brings out the... wisdom in your complexion."
Eleanor's smile faltered. "Thank you. I see Brad's still dressing you in his cast-offs."
Zoey laughed, a bright, musical sound that carried through the nearby conversations. "Hardly. Cartier doesn't do cast-offs. But if you're interested, I could give you the name of my trainer. Perhaps a few sessions could help with... the overall appearance."
Brad watched the exchange with undisguised pleasure, enjoying the way Zoey's barbs struck their target. He squeezed her waist subtly, a silent gesture of approval.
"Speaking of trainers," Eleanor retorted, her cheeks flushing, "perhaps you should focus on your own job instead of trying to be Brad's trophy wife."
Zoey's eyes darkened. "Oh, I'm much more than a trophy, Eleanor. I'm an investment. One that actually appreciates in value rather than depreciating."
Before Eleanor could respond, the band began to play a new song, and the double doors at the far end of the room opened. A hush fell over the crowd as Milena made her entrance.
She was everything the rumors had promised and more. In a scarlet gown that seemed to be made of liquid fire, she moved with confident grace. Her dark hair cascaded over her shoulders, and her smoky eyes scanned the room with an unmistakable hunger. She was the most stunning woman in the room.
Zoey felt a familiar thrill course through her—the thrill of the hunt. She met Brad's gaze, a silent understanding passing between them. The game had officially begun.
"Well, well," Zoey murmured, her voice barely audible over the swell of the music. "Look what the cat dragged in."
Brad's hand tightened on her back, his thumb making small circles against the thin fabric. "Ready for the main event, my little tigress?"
# The Transaction (Provocation)
The air between them crackled with electricity as Milena moved through the admiring crowd, her scarlet gown a stark contrast to Zoey's emerald. When their eyes finally met across the room, a silent challenge passed between them—a recognition of shared territory and mutual desire for the same prize.
Zoey watched, a slow smile playing on her lips, as Milena gracefully navigated the throng of admirers. Each movement was calculated, each glance deliberate. The Venezuelan model was positioning herself, making sure Brad noticed her. And Zoey knew exactly how to respond.
With a slight adjustment of her posture, Zoey turned more fully toward Brad, the movement causing the emerald fabric to cling even more tightly to her curves. She could feel his gaze on her, possessive and appreciative, and then she felt it—the unmistakable pressure of his manhood hardening against her thigh through the thin fabric of his tuxedo trousers.
A thrill shot through her. This was her signal. This was what he wanted.
Brad's hand rested possessively on the small of her back, his thumb making slow, deliberate circles against the thin fabric of her dress. "She's coming this way," he murmured, his voice a low vibration against her ear.
Zoey tilted her head, her eyes still locked on Milena's approach. "I know," she breathed, her own voice barely audible. "And I'm ready."
As Milena drew closer, Zoey shifted her stance subtly—feet slightly apart, shoulders back, chin raised. The movement emphasized the fullness of her breasts beneath the emerald fabric, the dramatic curve of her hips, the powerful lines of her legs. It was an invitation and a challenge all at once.
Milena's answering stance was equally provocative—shoulders back, one hip slightly jutted out, her scarlet gown clinging to every perfect curve. Her eyes swept over Zoey with open assessment, taking in the other woman's assets with the critical eye of a competitor.
"Well," Milena purred, her voice a sultry melody as she finally reached them, "Brad. And I see you've brought your little pet."
Zoey's smile turned predatory. "Brad has excellent taste in accessories, doesn't he? Though I prefer to think of myself as more of an investment than a pet."
Brad's hand tightened on her back, his arousal pressing more insistently against her thigh. He was enjoying this, savoring the tension between the two women who both wanted him.
Milena's eyes flickered to Brad's hand on Zoey's back, then back to Zoey's face. "An investment that's about to be devalued," she countered smoothly. "Brad deserves someone who can keep up with him."
Zoey laughed, a bright, challenging sound. "Keep up? Darling, I don't just keep up. I set the pace. I'm the one who knows exactly what Brad wants—in and out of the bedroom."
Brad's fingers dug slightly into Zoey's hip, a silent command to continue, to escalate. And Zoey was more than happy to oblige.
"Is that so?" Milena asked, taking a step closer, her eyes roaming openly over Zoey's body. "Perhaps you should demonstrate. Show me what makes you so special."
The challenge hung in the air between them, thick and electric. Zoey could feel Brad's pulse quickening against her back, his erection pressing harder against her thigh. This was it—the moment one of them would have to make the first move. And Zoey, knowing that boldness and being the alpha was exactly what Brad wanted, was not going to hesitate.
Zoey stepped forward, closing the distance between herself and Milena, until they were nearly touching. The air crackled with their mutual assessment, each woman taking in the other's assets with an expert eye.
"You want a demonstration?" Zoey whispered, her voice husky with desire and challenge. "Then watch and learn."
Zoey's smile was pure challenge. "Always, darling. Always."
As Milena walked through the crowd, her eyes met Brad’s. Zoey felt possessive triumph. This was her territory, her man, and her night. She intended to prove it spectacularly.
# The Transaction (Unexpected Contest)
The air in the ballroom crackled with anticipation as Zoey stepped forward, closing the distance between herself and Milena. Without warning, Zoey's hand shot out, not to strike but to trace a slow, deliberate line down Milena's arm, her touch light yet possessive.
"Such a pretty dress," Zoey murmured, her voice a low purr that carried in the suddenly quiet room. "Too bad it's about to get ruined."
Milena's eyes flashed with fury. "You think you can intimidate me?" she shot back, her hand snaking out to grip Zoey's wrist. "I've dealt with women like you before. All talk, no substance."
Brad watched the exchange with undisguised excitement, his hand resting on the small of Zoey's back. "Ladies, ladies," he announced, his voice carrying easily over the murmuring crowd. "As you can see, we have some... tension that needs resolving. If you would all kindly clear the center of the room, we're about to begin an unexpected contest."
The guests exchanged confused glances but quickly moved to create a circular space, their whispers creating a backdrop of eager anticipation. As the space cleared, Brad positioned himself at the edge of the circle, his eyes fixed on Zoey with unmistakable approval.
Zoey met his gaze, and in that moment, he could see it in her eyes—she was taking no prisoners tonight. The competitive fire burned bright, fueled by the knowledge of what was at stake: her position, her lifestyle, and her place in Brad's bed.
Milena, too, understood the stakes. This wasn't just about tonight—it was about her future. She was determined to have Brad take her home after she had dealt with this "poor attempt to intimidate her." Milena was going to make sure Zoey was stripped bare and humiliated tonight, proving to everyone—and especially to Brad—that she was the superior woman.
"Ready to learn your place?" Milena sneered, dropping into a fighter's stance with surprising agility for someone in heels.
Zoey laughed, a sound that was both amused and dangerous. "Darling," she replied, assuming her own stance, "you're the one who needs to learn. You're playing in a league you can't possibly afford."
The first move was Zoey's. She darted forward, not with a punch but with a palm strike aimed at Milena's chest. Milena blocked the blow, her forearm meeting Zoey's with a sharp impact that echoed in the quiet room. The contact sent a jolt through both women, a spark of electricity that ignited their rivalry.
Zoey followed through with a kick aimed at Milena's thigh, her leg clad in the emerald dress flashing in the light. Milena twisted aside, the red fabric swirling around her as she avoided the blow. The movement caused her gown to slip slightly off one shoulder, revealing smooth, tanned skin.
"Careful, sweetheart," Milena taunted, "you might rip Cartier's dress."
"Cartier's?" Zoey laughed, feinting left before striking right with a hook aimed at Milena's jaw. "More like knockoff. You can tell by the way it hangs."
Milena blocked the strike, her fingers closing around Zoey's wrist with surprising strength. "You talk too much," she growled, pulling Zoey forward and delivering a knee to her stomach.
Zoey gasped but didn't fall back, using the momentum to spin and deliver an elbow strike to Milena's side. The impact sent Milena stumbling, her scarlet dress billowing around her as she regained her balance.
"You're going to pay for that," Milena snarled, her eyes narrowing with fury.
Brad watched the exchange, his own excitement palpable. He could feel the tension rising, the erotic energy crackling between the two women as they circled each other, each looking for an opening.
"Come on, ladies," Brad called out, his voice thick with anticipation. "Don't disappoint me. I want to see some real passion."
Zoey and Milena exchanged a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. This was no longer just about winning or losing—it was about putting on a show for Brad, about demonstrating who truly deserved to be by his side.
With a shared nod, they launched themselves at each other, their movements a blur of emerald and scarlet as the contest truly began.
# The Transaction (Savage Desire)
The fight escalated quickly, the elegant facade of the gala dissolving into something raw and primal. As their dresses tore—emerald and scarlet fabric ripping away to reveal smooth, sweat-slicked skin—both women transformed into feral creatures driven by competition and desire.
Zoey's nails, sharp and deliberate, raked down Milena's shoulder, leaving four red welts in their wake. Milena hissed in pain but retaliated instantly, her own fingers digging into Zoey's thigh, leaving crescent-shaped marks that would surely bruise. The crowd watched, stunned but fascinated, as the two beautiful women tore at each other like animals fighting over a prized possession.
"You like this?" Milena snarled, her voice husky with exertion and arousal. "Getting rough with another woman? Does that turn you on?"
Zoey laughed, a wild, untamed sound. "Only when it's for you, darling," she panted, ducking under Milena's swinging arm. "And when I'm winning."
With a sudden burst of speed, Zoey executed a perfect leg sweep that sent Milena crashing to the floor. The impact was followed by the sound of tearing fabric as Milena's scarlet gown split up the side. Before Milena could recover, Zoey was on top of her, straddling her waist with predatory grace.
Brad watched from the edge of the circle, a wide, appreciative grin spreading across his face. This was exactly what he had wanted to see—his Zoey in her element, dominant and ruthless. He could feel his erection straining against the fabric of his trousers, the erotic display before him fueling his desire.
Zoey's eyes met Brad's, and in that moment, he saw the reflection of his own excitement in her gaze. With a deliberate slowness that only heightened the tension, Zoey lowered her hands toward Milena's exposed breasts. Milena struggled beneath her, but Zoey's weight and training kept her pinned.
"Wait! No!" Milena cried out, but it was too late.
Zoey's fingers closed around Milena's nipples, squeezing and twisting with practiced cruelty. Milena arched her back, a mixture of pain and pleasure crossing her face as she cried out. The sound echoed through the silent room, drawing gasps and murmurs from the onlookers.
Brad's breathing quickened as he watched, his hand unconsciously stroking himself through his trousers. This was better than he had imagined—Zoey's dominance, Milena's submission, the raw, unfiltered desire on display.
The crowd, initially shocked by the violence, was now thoroughly aroused. Whispers turned to moans as guests began touching themselves and each other, their own desires inflamed by the spectacle before them. The gala had transformed into an erotic arena, and everyone wanted a front-row seat.
Eleanor, Brad's ex-wife, watched in horror as her carefully planned charity event descended into debauchery. "Brad!" she hissed, storming toward him. "What is the meaning of this? You've destroyed my gala!"
Brad didn't take his eyes off the struggling women on the floor. "Relax, Eleanor," he said, his voice thick with desire. "You're just not sophisticated enough to appreciate the artistry."
Eleanor's face flushed with rage. "Artistry? They're tearing each other apart like animals! This is disgusting!"
"Disgusting?" Brad laughed, finally turning to face her. "Look around, Eleanor. Everyone's enjoying themselves. You should try it sometime."
Meanwhile, on the floor, Zoey had shifted her tactics. Instead of continuing to torment Milena's breasts, she leaned down and captured one nipple in her mouth, her teeth scraping against the sensitive flesh. Milena's cries turned to gasps of pleasure as Zoey's other hand moved between her legs, her fingers finding their target with practiced ease.
The combination of pain and pleasure overwhelmed Milena, her body arching into Zoey's touch despite her protests of resistance. Zoey could feel the Venezuelan's body responding, her wetness seeping through the remnants of her dress.
"Feel that?" Zoey whispered, her voice a sultry challenge against Milena's ear. "That's what happens when you try to take what's mine. Your body betrays you."
Milena's eyes glazed over with desire, her resistance crumbling in the face of Zoey's expert ministrations. The crowd watched in breathless anticipation as the two beautiful women entwined on the floor, their struggle transforming into something else entirely—something far more intimate and erotic.
Brad watched, his own desire reaching a fever pitch. This was his fantasy come to life—Zoey's dominance, Milena's submission, the raw, unfiltered passion on display. He knew without a doubt that tonight, regardless of who won, he would be taking both of them home. And he couldn't wait.
# The Transaction (Triumphant Return)
Zoey's fingers moved with practiced precision as she traced patterns on Milena's quivering stomach, her touch alternating between gentle caresses and sharp pinches that made the Venezuelan model gasp. Milena lay beneath her, pinned by Zoey's weight and her will, her scarlet dress torn in several places, revealing patches of sweat-slicked skin.
"Submit," Zoey whispered, her voice a sultry command that vibrated through Milena's body. "Admit I'm the one Brad wants."
Milena shook her head, her eyes defiant despite the flush on her cheeks. "Never," she gasped, but her body betrayed her, arching into Zoey's touch as her fingers danced closer to the damp heat between her legs.
Zoey laughed, a low, throaty sound that held no amusement. "We both know you're enjoying this," she murmured, leaning down to capture Milena's earlobe between her teeth. "Your body's already given up. It's just your pride that's holding out."
As Zoey's fingers finally found their target, sliding into Milena's wet heat with practiced ease, the Venezuelan model cried out, her body arching off the floor. "Oh God..." she moaned, her resistance crumbling with each deliberate movement of Zoey's skilled fingers.
"Who does Brad want?" Zoey demanded, her voice dropping to an intimate growl as she increased the pressure, her thumb finding Milena's clit in perfect rhythm.
"You!" Milena gasped, her back arching as she reached her peak, her body shuddering with pleasure. "He wants you!"
The crowd erupted in applause as Zoex raised her victorious hand, still possessively holding Milena’s trembling body. Brad stepped forward, his eyes shining with pride and desire. He helped Zoey to her feet and pulled her into his arms, capturing her lips in a searing kiss that affirmed his ownership and admiration.
The kiss was long, deliberate, and thoroughly possessive—a message to everyone, especially Eleanor, who stood nearby with her face flushed with outrage. When they finally parted, Brad's eyes met Eleanor's across the room, his expression one of unapologetic triumph.
As the applause continued, Brad leaned closer to Zoey and whispered something in her ear that made her smile. Then, as he turned to leave, he subtly dropped a small folded note near Milena's still-trembling hand. The Venezuelan model's eyes followed him, a mixture of humiliation and determination in her gaze.
Brad and Zoey walked arm in arm through the parting crowd, their heads held high, basking in the adulation of the guests who had been thoroughly aroused by their display. Eleanor stood frozen, her face a mask of fury as she watched them leave, knowing full well the scandal that would erupt from tonight's events.
"You've ruined my gala!" Eleanor hissed to no one in particular, her voice trembling with rage. "The society pages will have a field day with this!"
But she was speaking to empty air, as most guests were now focused on the one woman still recovering on the floor, or following Brad and Zoey's triumphant departure.
***
In the privacy of the limousine, the city lights blurring past the tinted windows, Brad wrapped his arms around Zoey, pulling her onto his lap.
"You were magnificent tonight," he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear as he traced patterns on her bare thigh beneath the torn remains of her dress.
Zoey smiled, her body still humming with adrenaline and triumph. "As were you," she whispered back, her hand sliding up his chest. "That kiss back there... did you see Eleanor's face?"
Brad laughed, a deep, satisfied sound. "Perfect. But there's something else you should know."
He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a small, folded piece of paper—the same note he had given to Milena. "I gave her an invitation."
Zoey raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "An invitation to what?"
"To a redemption match," Brad explained, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "At my penthouse. If she has the nerve to show up, that is."
Zoey's eyes widened with excitement. "You mean... you want her to come here? To us?"
Brad nodded, his eyes dark with desire. "I want to watch you handle her again. But this time... without an audience."
The thought sent a thrill through Zoey's body, her nipples hardening against the thin fabric of her dress. "And you think she'll come?" she breathed, already imagining the possibilities.
"I think she will," Brad confirmed, his hands sliding higher up her thighs. "She's too proud to let this stand. And too curious about what might happen."
Zoey's breath hitched as Brad's fingers brushed against the damp heat between her legs. The idea of Milena coming to their penthouse, of facing her again in a more intimate setting, was intoxicating. Without warning, Zoey shifted positions, straddling Brad's lap as the limousine sped through the city.
"I think I need to practice," Zoey purred, her fingers working at the buttons of Brad's shirt. "For when your little Venezuelan visitor arrives."
Brad's eyes widened with surprise and delight as Zoey took control, her movements confident and assertive. Her lips found his neck, her teeth scraping against his skin as her hands roamed his body with possessive intent.
"Practice what exactly?" Brad managed to gasp as Zoey's fingers freed his erection, her touch both firm and teasing.
"Everything," Zoey whispered, positioning herself above him before slowly sinking down, taking him inch by inch into her hot, wet heat. "How to make sure she knows her place. How to remind Brad who truly owns him."
Brad moaned as she began to move, her hips finding a rhythm that was both powerful and intoxicating. Through the tinted windows, the city lights created a kaleidoscope of colors that reflected in their eyes, mirroring the passion building between them.
"God, yes," Brad breathed, his hands gripping her hips as he met her thrust for thrust. "Just like that..."
Zoey leaned down, her breasts pressing against his chest as she captured his lips in a kiss that was all teeth and tongue, a perfect reflection of the dominant, untamed woman she was. "That's it, darling," she whispered against his lips. "Give me everything. Because when Milena comes to play..."
She paused, her movements becoming more deliberate, more intense. "...I'm going to need you at your absolute best."
Brad's response was a ragged moan as he felt himself reaching his peak, his body arching into hers as he surrendered completely to her control. And as the limousine pulled up to the penthouse, Zoex knew that regardless of who might come calling for a redemption match, tonight belonged to her. And she intended to collect her reward in full.
