Chapter 12

Jane

 

When it’s my turn to step up to the mic, I’m more excited than nervous. I miss having Mariah up here with me. Part of me wishes she were here for some moral support, but I know that now that she’s been sold, she’s in a better place. I don’t mean heaven, thank God. I mean a million-dollar place with her billionaire lover, probably getting some foreplay and some ideas about what’s to come.

In my own way, I’m getting some foreplay too. Now that the older brother is gone, Alex has nothing to distract him from me, and I love it. I love the grip his eyes have on mine. It’s stronger than any part of me has ever been held by anyone.

“And what will you be offering us this evening, miss?” The MC’s question does nothing for me. Doesn’t rile me up like she’s hoping it will. Especially after such an explosive and intense bidding session with Mariah. She’s anxious to keep up the interest, and the dollar amounts, but I already know what I want.

And the first thing I want, I think, taking the microphone, and smiling into it, is to keep my virginity to myself.

I hold the mic in my hands, making sure to keep my hand closed around it like it’s a cock. Alex’s cock. Luckily, it seems he gets my drift. Plus, a whole lot more. I say to the assembled audience I don’t care about, “well, let me think.”

There’s really no thinking involved. I’m already super clear on what I’m offering, but I want to make these other men feel like they have a chance with me. Like they have even the slightest ability to satisfy me. Maybe that’ll keep the stupid ones from raising their hands.

You know me so well, don’t you? I think, briefly, allowing myself to enjoy Alex’s intense gaze again. It’s even more enjoyable now because his posture has changed to reflect it. But not in the way you think. He’s not sitting intensely forward. He’s laid-back now, like an Emperor on the throne. His eyes are now wolf-like. Not mean or scarily hungry; just wise. Confident. You know I don’t need to think about what I want, don’t you? And you know you want to be the one to give it to me, don’t you, big boy?

I sigh into the microphone, this time letting them hear my voice. My contemplative hum. “I’m offering a whole night, no holds barred.” I pause, letting the men eat up my words like fast food. “During this night in question, you can do whatever you like to me.”

I let my eyes return to Alex, who’s just nodding. Almost like he’s getting in sync with me. Prepping himself to come out of the gate running, the moment I finish announcing what I’m offering. Good. That’ll make sure you get me, I think, holding him the same way he holds me. Intensely. “But I will be particularly interested in taking offers from men who are willing and able to stretch the definition of ‘whatever’ when it comes to what you want to do to me. Be a big dreamer,” I say, emphasizing those words for Alex though I know I don’t need to. “Be risky. Be wild. Be yourself,” I whisper, hoping he hears it. Or reads it on my lips.

The MC is definitely hungry for what I’m serving. “Ooooh,” she says, letting me hear her pleasure as she takes the microphone back, “a fairly good offer to come on the heels of our Virgin Mary, don’t you think, boys? An offer to be risky. Wild. To be…creative in how you do her.”

Chuckles from a few men who think they’re bedroom Einstein drift towards me, but we all know who the alpha predator is here. And he happens to be sitting not far away from me.

“Isn’t that nice, boys?” The MC pauses. “If you’re ready, let’s start the bidding, shall we?”

Cheers for this go up, but nowhere near as enthusiastic as the noise made for Mariah. Which is fine by me. I’m not jealous. And I don’t care to be on anyone else’s menu except Alex’s. From the looks of things, he’s ordered a drink to go along with my auction. Something dark and mysterious, much like him.

“Any starting bids, gentleman?”

Alex takes a sip of his drink, and says, “$10,000.” It’s so lazy — so unconcerned — it’s like he said ten, not ten thousand. The fact that he’s the first one to bid, and that his starting bid is so high, makes the front of my pants feel full. My lacy underwear, wet and slick.

I knew you weren’t shy, I think, glancing at him as another bid comes in. This one is for $10,000 more.

Unfazed, Alex takes another sip of his drink and puts forward another bid. “$50,000,” he says. Unlike his brother, there is no anxiety. No hesitation. Again, $50,000 sounds like $50 coming from his confident mouth.

But if Alex were going for no competition, it seems this bid is a mistake. Once he says $50,000, it’s like the room erupts. Bids start flying, and from men who are looking at me trying to figure out what the other men see in me. Particularly the man who was the first to bid.

By the way they look at me, it’s obvious that they don’t see it. None of them admire my curvy figure the way Alex does. But it doesn’t matter. The numbers keep flying.

“$65,000,” says the cowboy who lost my friend to Paul.

“$70,000!”

“$80,000!”

“$90,000,” says the cowboy in response to the two chumps trying to outbid him.

“$100,000.” Surprisingly, this is from a woman.

But I don’t even have time to find her in the crowd or wonder what she sees in me. Before that offer even has time to cool on the floor for more than a second, Alex comes back with, “$350,000!” Saying this, he drains his drink and slams it down on the table. For emphasis, and to mark his territory.

The tagalong friend at his table nurses an eggnog but doesn’t seem to look at any girl in particular. Just watching the action, like his type would. They love a good dick-measuring contest.

“$425,000!” Regrettably, the cowboy is back in action with this bid. But luckily, I can hear his fatigue. He may have a lot of money, but I can tell he’s not willing to part with it for me. Good. Not for much longer.

“$525,000,” shouts Alex, as if he’s tired of toying with the competition. Like he just wants to leave them all in the dust, which I would love.

Thankfully, Cowboy backs out. And so do many of the others who were bidding for me.

But there is a challenging bid. One for $50,000 more, and from a man who sounds like he just flew in from Britain.

For a moment, Alex doesn’t speak. But that’s not because he’s scared off. He’s just taking his second drink from the waiter and sipping on it. This one looks like something I would like. It has a cherry on top.

“$575,000,” says Alex with a grin. Now he’s just toying with everyone like a gazelle with a mouse before he swallows it whole.

The man from Britain makes another offer. It’s more than Alex’s but not much more.

“$799,000,” says Alex, getting to his feet and taking a big swig of whatever he’s drinking. He also takes a big swig of me. From head to toe. As he does, I read one message loud and clear: You’re mine. Money doesn’t mean shit to me. You will be mine by the end of this, I guarantee it.

I can’t help it. I giggle, seeing how much he wants me. He may have adorable puppy-dog eyes, but he’s a real man. He knows how to throw his weight around.

Then go ahead and take me, I think, nodding at him to accept his bid. To accept his ownership of me. Money doesn’t matter to me either. I have enough of it. What I want is you. So, come get me, big boy.

With those thoughts, I turn my eyes back to the rest of the unworthy audience and wait for what I already know is coming. The end of my bidding war. Most men have thrown in the towel and now are just left trying to figure out what makes me so valuable.

“$799,000,” says the MC, as if she can’t believe that big of a number being applied to me either. “Going once, going twice…” As she did with Mariah, she pauses, but not as long. There’s not as much excitement to build up this time, and she knows it. “Sold!”

To this news, Alex doesn’t celebrate. He simply finishes his drink and sets it down on the table. All without ever breaking eye contact with me.

I hurry off the stage before the MC even has to ask, or before I have to spend another minute being studied by other men who don’t understand what makes me worth over seven hundred grand.

It’s because I’m his, I think, as I get closer to his table, and feel the magnetism of his eyes practically melt my insides. I was his before the bidding even started. None of these men understand that. And they never will.