“Isn’t he just adorable?” Mikey went to touch Mark’s hair, but Mark slapped his hand away and turned narrowed eyes on him. “And feisty!” Mikey bounced on his toes again and wriggled like an overenergetic kid. “He’s gay, sorry, ladies. We do try to respect preferences, so we’ll only be taking bids from the men. Let’s start the bidding at ten thousand.”
I stood back and let the other men fight it out. There looked to be some serious bidders, and I checked them out through the sea of bodies. I waited for the perfect time, and when the paddles popping into the air slowed down, the wager was at forty-five grand.
“Do we have fifty? Come on, boys. Mark here needs some lovin’!” Mikey did a twirl in front of Mark, and Mark’s gaze followed him, mouth pursed in displeasure. He smoothed his hand down the tight black tank top he had on and stared out at the crowd again. Our gazes locked, and that’s all it took for me to hunger for him. I imagined him in my bed, all pale skin and bright red hair against my sheets, and I knew he had to be mine.
I raised my paddle, and Mikey squealed.
“We have fifty. What about fifty-five?”
The bidding ended up being between me and another man in the corner, a tall blond who switched between glaring at me and making gooey eyes at Mark. By the time I raised my paddle for seventy, though, he sighed and shook his head when Mikey looked at him with interest.
“Going once.”
Excitement shot through me, an impossible thrill that carried the heat of a good chase, and it took all my effort not to pump my chest out in a typical alpha move.
“Going twice.”
Mark’s gaze settled on me and he stared, cocking his head as though curious about me. When I smiled at him, he turned his head away.
“And sold to bidder number thirteen!”
The crowd clapped. Someone patted me on the shoulder, and I smiled at him in thanks.
One of the attendants came rushing to me, her face flushed when she reached me. “Congratulations, sir,” she said. “How would you like to pay for your night?”
“Madam Winters said she’d take care of it for me.”
“Oh.” She grinned and bobbed her head. Her blonde hair was tied up in a ponytail and swished as she clutched a clipboard in her hand, topped with a piece of paper she scribbled on. “Of course. You’re one of the madam’s special guests. I just have to go through a few quick details with you. You’ve already signed our nondisclosure form?”
“I have,” I said, my gaze sliding to Mark, who loped off the stage and started heading in my direction, his cheeks blazing almost as red as his straight, short hair.
“Okay, if I could just get you to sign this. It’s a form that says you agree to pay the fees, which doesn’t affect you, and that you are aware you only haveonenight with Mark. If he doesn’t wish to see you again, you will not commit any illegal actions against him, including stalking or harassment.”
I jolted and grabbed the pen out of her hand when she turned the clipboard at me. I signed the document just as Mark reached us. She nodded with a smile and bustled off, leaving me and Mark alone.
He still had his arms crossed, mouth pursed and nostrils flaring. “I never wanted this.”
“What?” I frowned at him, taking in the soft lines of his face and the freckles splattered across his cheeks and nose. It was fucking adorable.
“I’m not… one of those people. A prostitute,” he leaned forward to say softly.
“Yes, the people being auctioned tonight aren’t professionals,” I said, not quite sure what he was getting at.
He huffed and pouted. His stare slid to Madam Winters, where she stood holding court in a corner, and I followed it, but she had her back to us. “This was her doing.”
I laughed. “Let’s start again. I’m Camden, and you’re Mark.”
He pressed his hands over his hair as though patting it flat, but it was already straight. Maybe too straight. Some of the strands curled slightly, like their natural state wasn’t meant to be the way it currently was. “Fuck this. I’m not doing this.”
He was gone so fast that by the time I realized he’d escaped for the exit he was halfway across the ballroom. I followed him, a spike of exhilaration pumping through my veins. He was already running. Excited goose bumps rose on my arms as I followed him through the doorway and into the extravagant hallway outside the ballroom. Below a perfect example of a Gothic Revival vaulted ceiling, long golden curtains bracketed open arched windows, and the airy cloth shimmered and danced inward on a light breeze as if it also wanted to pursue Mark. I seized his arm before he could get much farther and slammed him against the wall, eliciting a gasp of surprise from him when I got in nice and close to his face with mine.
“Don’t run,” I growled out, my voice deeper than usual. “Unless you really want to, but I enjoy a chase.”
His hazel eyes widened, and he threw his head back, bumping it against the wall behind him. “I’m not running.” His voice wavered, and his tongue darted across his lips. My gaze followed that pink tongue and the way he dampened his mouth with his saliva, and I wanted to devour him—eat him all up like the prey he was.
“You are.” I leaned forward a little more and smiled dangerously. I ran my fingers over his cheekbone and followed the path his tongue had taken across his lips, and he gasped again. “You’re mine for the night, Mark, and I’m going to consume you. Make you crave every touch and kiss. Do you want that?”
A whimper escaped his mouth and his pretty red eyelashes fluttered. “I….” He chewed on his bottom lip and nodded fast. “Yes.Yes.”
