Hidden Love by MINK
6
Gaines
Trent blathers on and on as the crowd laughs at his jokes. I stand at the side of the stage, doing my best to see the woman who’s stolen my attention from the moment I caught her on the red carpet.
What is it about her? I can’t put my finger on it, but I also can’t seem to stop thinking about her. So much so that I miss when Trent announces my name.
“Gaines, you here?” He cracks a sardonic smile while giving me a vicious side-eye.
I straighten my suit coat and stride out to thunderous applause, the best money can buy. So many people attend this event for a chance to go home with beautiful, wealthy--or both--socialites that the crowd gets bigger every year, just as the tickets get even harder to come by.
This scene doesn’t fit Pansy. Not at all. Her charm is more earthy and real, none of the falsity I’ve become used to from the people who chatter at me whenever I’m forced from my comfortable spheres of home and travel.
“Gaines, you seem a bit distracted.” Trent is grinning even bigger. “Got a lucky lady in mind?”
I glare at him.
He gives a loud, fake laugh. “Always stony, isn’t he? That’s why he’s such a hit with the ladies. They want to crack this tough nut.” He reaches up and pats me on the back. I consider breaking his hand, but then again, I pay him well to provide entertainment, and he’s doing his job.
“All right. I hate to start the bidding with the biggest prize, but my pal Gaines insists on doing it this way.”
Right, so I can get the hell out of here. This time is different, though. This time I want to leave with that pretty brunette on my arm. I need to know her better, to research her the same way I do the treasures I discover. And once I know everything there is to know, I’ll unwrap her like a gift. I lick my lips.
My thoughts are consumed with her, but I can’t see her for the bright spotlight that shines in my face. She’s out there, though. It’s like I can feel her.
“Let’s get the bidding started at a modest $1,000,” Trent calls.
The bids start rapidly, women staring at their phones as a huge screen lights up behind us over the stage. The $1,000 opening number is long gone, and each second that ticks by shows a higher amount, with the name changing based on who’s the highest bidder.
The spotlight finally abates so the partygoers can see the screen. I blink away the dots in my vision and find the mysterious woman sitting where I left her, her eyes on me. My blood heats as I look directly at her, taking in her form.
Her dress hugs her ample breasts, nips in at her waist, then flares out again at her hips. She’s built like a goddess, and I would be more than happy to worship at her altar. Filthy thoughts swirl in my mind as the number keeps going up. What will she say when I tell her I want her in my bed? The thought should shock me, but I’m over my initial surprise. She was unexpected, but now that I have her in my sights, I’m not letting her go.
She’s a treasure that, for once, I intend to keep for myself.
“Whoa, ladies, already at $100,000 and still rising?” Trent claps. “Save some for the rest of us!”
Some of the men laugh or shift uncomfortably in their chairs. There are plenty of Hollywood stars and corporate titans here that are more than happy to be bought by the hungriest of society ladies. But they’ll have to wait. Once my mystery woman wins my bid, they’ll get their turn on the stage, and I’ll whisk her away to my home.
Mrs. Pettyford might have a stroke when she sees me with a guest. But it can’t be helped. There’s no way in hell I’m letting Pansy get away.
Her name flashes up on the screen behind me, but is quickly drowned out by a Melinda, a Caroline, and, the most frequent bidder of all, Selena.
The amount is rising higher than even the previous years, the dollar amount quickly approaching a quarter of a million. The names start falling away, and I keep my gaze on Pansy. She glances up at me, her fingers still at work on her phone. Her eyebrows lift, as if she’s questioning whether she should keep bidding.
I give her a nod.
She shrugs, the swells of her breasts rising with the movement. Fire lights through my veins again, and I can imagine running my tongue along her fair skin, then delving lower and tasting the ripe buds of her nipples. Desire rides me hard, the sensation so foreign yet no less intense.
“Looks like we’re down to two big spenders.” Trent whistles as the names flip from first Pansy, then Selena. The bidding continues rapidly.
Selena doesn’t have this kind of cash. There’s no way she can win, but she isn’t giving up. I grit my teeth as the room falls into a hush. Disappointed bidders turn to their drinks or sit back and wait for the next bachelor. But not Selena. She’s standing, slowly moving toward Pansy.
My hands clench into fists as she gets closer and closer, the bids still going.
“We’re going to have to shut this down.” Trent laughs. “Blowing our load too early.”
The bids keep flickering.
Ms. Lane, the stately matriarch of this charity event, pantomimes a slash across her throat from the side of the stage.
Trent takes the hint. “All right folks, we need to move along. Let’s all count down together, and whoever has the highest bid when we get to zero, wins.”
The crowd cheers, and Trent leads them in a countdown.
Five.
Selena is getting closer to Pansy.
Four.
I don’t like it one bit.
Three.
Pansy is still bidding like crazy.
Two.
But Selena is beating every bid in rapid fashion.
One.
Right when the crowd takes in a breath to say the final number, Selena slaps my phone from Pansy’s hand. It topples to the floor as Pansy jumps from her seat.
Zero.
The final bid was $425,000.
The winning bidder’s name flashes in bright pink letters.
Selena.
