CHAPTER NINETEEN
Tabby
I was a mess. I might as well have been standing on the edge of a cliff, the way I felt, like my equilibrium was off and I was staring down at my demise. My body was craving to jump, absolutely crying out for that leap into the chasm, but my mind was steadfast in its determination to keep my cool and maintain my composure. It was likely the most difficult battle I’d ever faced against myself, and one I loved and hated at the same time.
My face felt like it was on fire. I was sure I was beet-red, and I wouldn’t have been a mite surprised to discover beads of sweat were dripping from my hairline to my jaw. The space between my legs was just as warm, and I was afraid I might leave a puddle on the seat. My limbs were shaky and my eyes wouldn’t focus properly and virtually every nerve in my body was alive with electric pulses that left me unable to control my muscles, forcing from me miniature spasms in the strangest of places.
An orgasm was the best and worst possible thing that could’ve happened in that moment.
I hadn’t even realized the panties were of the vibrating variety when I’d put them on in the safety and solitude of my hotel suite. I’d never worn a pair before, but I’d seen them a couple times. Once when Heather dragged me to one of those sex toy parties women host and once when I wandered into a porn store after I’d turned eighteen just because I could. I’d been under the impression they all came with a very noticeable bulge in the crotch region where the vibrator was located. Apparently, these were sleeker and more discreet. I hadn’t felt anything out of the ordinary. Then again, I hadn’t exactly been playing close attention to the exact feeling of them because I was too caught up in the fact that I was wearing underwear Owen had chosen specifically for me. I wished now that I’d been more attentive when putting them on, not because it would have deterred me but because I wouldn’t have been so caught off guard while sitting at a blackjack table in a room with almost a hundred people.
“All right, everyone, get a refill on your drinks and finish your last hands! The auction is about to begin!” I recognized the voice coming through the well-hidden speakers as the same woman who had emceed the last auction I’d attended, and I couldn’t have been more grateful for her very existence as I was in that moment. Hearing her voice acted like an instant anti-aphrodisiac. She didn’t sound repulsive by any means, but it pulled me back to Earth a little and gave me the moment I needed to collect myself.
Owen thanked our dealer and offered her a tip in the form of a chip, then spun on his seat to face me. “Do you want to leave?”
There was no mistaking the hope in his face, nor was there any mistaking the bulge in his pants. The little game he’d just played with me — which happened to be a very effective crash course in blackjack, if I did say so myself — had clearly stimulated him as much as it had me, and I could see the desire flooding his gaze.
If he could play games, though, I could too.
“No,” I told him sweetly. “I want to stay and watch the auction.”
Actually, I didn’t just want to stay to make him suffer. I genuinely wanted to watch because I was still itching to know more about The Club and the men in it. There was so much I wasn’t privy to, and it seemed like the only way I’d get any additional morsels of information was to discover them myself through careful observation and possibly eavesdropping.
To his credit, Owen was able to maintain his composure much better than I was mine. “As you wish,” he said nonchalantly. If not for the tent in his trousers, I would’ve believed he was truly okay with hanging around a while longer.
We slipped into the ballroom while most of the men were hounding the bar in an effort to secure themselves a drink for the duration of the auction and snagged ourselves a great vantage point at the front of the floor. The stage was still empty of women, the spotlights shining on the floor in their orderly row, and the only female I saw in the room other than myself was the auctioneer. She nodded with a courteous smile to Owen as a greeting, but she didn’t approach to speak to him, and I felt a surprising amount of validation. It was as if she knew I was with him and wanted to be respectful of that. It was too bad the men in The Club didn’t have the same reaction to my being with Owen, because the looks I received from them were not of a platonic nature.
“So, do the women in the auction know about the dark and dangerous interests of The Club?” I asked Owen, testing the water.
He looked down at me out of the corner of his eye, and I saw suspicion on his face. He knew what I was doing. “Yes,” he answered with audible crispness. “They’ve all signed the NDA.”
“But not everyone has the same interests?” I pressed.
“In a broad sense and to an unknowledgeable third party, we do. But, if you’re asking my opinion on the matter, no. Our interests are individual.”
“What are your interests?” I probed.
Without warning, my groin was lit with fresh vibrations, and my knees buckled a bit. I clapped a hand to my mound instinctively and almost swallowed my tongue trying to keep my moan inside. It stopped as quickly as it had started, and I slid my eyes hazily back up to Owen.
“What was that for?” I demanded, wriggling my hips slightly to readjust the panties.
He merely smiled one of his malicious smiles. Then, in a complete juxtaposition, he leaned down and kissed me on the forehead with such delicate affection I almost buckled again out of sheer surprise. The gesture was so innocently sweet and the first he had done of the kind that I wasn’t sure how to take it. Was he playing with me, or had he really felt an urge to give me a strings-free forehead kiss?
Either way, I didn’t mind.
I kept my mouth shut as the auction began. The Dealer walked around with her cards and handed them to the participating men, and I noticed Howie was included amongst them. He was looking at the stage with feverish thirst, his gaze bulleting from woman to woman, and again I felt that stage was not somewhere I’d ever hope to find myself. Standing in front of it with Owen’s hand on my hip, however, was somewhere I would’ve been delighted to find myself many times over.
“You know your friend is here?” I asked him softly. He looked at me quizzically, so I jutted my chin in Howie’s direction. He glanced around, then turned back to me with a nod.
“He told me he’d be coming,” he murmured. “I didn’t think he’d be bidding though.”
“Does Howie have the same interests you do?” I couldn’t help myself.
Owen laughed outright, and it was loud enough to grab the attention of those nearest us as well as the women standing on the platform. “No,” he said once his guffaws quieted. “Quite the opposite.”
“What are his?” I inquired with faux innocence.
Again, the panties buzzed to life between my thighs. The constant on-off clit teasing I’d been receiving since our arrival was starting to take its toll. Even when the underwear was just being underwear, I still felt the twitches in my core and didn’t seem to lose any arousal steam. Each time he turned them on, I didn’t have to rebuild to where I had last been, but rather I continued building from where I’d left off. A climax for the ages was hovering too near in my future, and I was terrified it would arrive while I was surrounded by a horde of strange men.
As my hips bucked, my head shot up, and I accidentally made direct eye contact with one of the women. She was looking at me unblinkingly, practically studying me, and I realized with horror she probably knew what was going on. At the very least, she had to be aware I was verging on an orgasm. Before I could gauge her reaction to the scene I was involuntarily making, however, she beamed her eyes toward Owen and fixated on him just as pointedly as she had me. The expression on her face changed. There was visible want and a glimmer of hope, and I detected a cloud of anger beneath the painted surface. I didn’t ask Owen who she was. I couldn’t. If I opened my mouth, I was going to moan.
He switched the vibration off and gave me a second kiss on my forehead. I hadn’t yet torn my gaze from the woman, and I saw her mouth curl downward with disgust as he did it. There was no question about it. She knew him, and she was not happy to see him with me.
“Why are these women doing this?” I questioned quietly. I didn’t want to outright ask who she was, mainly because I wasn’t sure I wanted to know that particular mystery, but I figured the query would shed some light both on her and The Club.
“The reasons vary,” he explained. “Some are socialites hoping to make excellent social connections. Others are part of charitable foundations and find this a preferable way to earn donations for their organizations rather than holding a heap of benefits and asking for money. There’s a few who have no ambitions other than to marry wealthy, and this gives them that chance. The motivation to participate depends on the woman.”
I analyzed his admirer. She wasn’t cute or pretty or beautiful, at least in my opinion, but she was undeniably sexy, like the type of woman men watched getting gangbanged in porn but would never consider taking home to meet their moms. Her breasts were basically nonexistent, yet I could tell with the littlest twist that she had a great ass. With her flawless hair, makeup, and nails, she seemed like she fit in exceedingly well at The Club. I couldn’t imagine her as being Owen’s type though.
Hell, who was I kidding? I didn’t want to believe Owen’s type could have possibly included anything other than me.