“I expected to wear a suit.”
“It is a suit. It’s a superhero suit.”
His response is to glare at me. God he’s hot when he’s annoyed.
I throw him a pout. “I’m going as Catwoman. You have to wear your Batman costume or we won’t match.”
“I thought you were wearing that.” He points to the evening gown hanging from the hook in the bathroom. It’s my decoy dress. I copied it from the movie. I’m starting in an evening gown and then changing partway through the night. It’s all very well-orchestrated. Sort of like a costume change between acts. I tried to convince Amie to do the same thing, but since she’s going as Cinderella the whole rags-to-riches thing wasn’t that appealing.
“I will be. Only to start the night. And you’ll be in a regular suit. And then you’ll change into Batman and I’ll change into Catwoman. It’ll be fun.”
“Why didn’t you tell me about this before now?”
“I wanted it to be a surprise.”
“What if this costume doesn’t fit? Is this Lycra? Where did you even get this?”
“I worked hard on it. Just put it on.” The only real work I did was looking online and punching in his credit card number. Although I did tailor it based on his suit measurements and I made a few special alterations.
He sighs, lips still pursed, but strips out of his clothes while I watch.
“Enjoying yourself?” He sticks his hand down the front of his boxer briefs and does some rearranging.
I grin. “Immensely.”
He pulls the suit on. I think it’s going to look even better than it did on the model who posed in it. Bancroft has amazing legs. Bancroft has an amazing body, period. He’s a massive brick wall of a man. Until him, I’d never been into jacked-up guys. His build is often camouflaged under his suits, although the bulges and contours of muscle are still present.
Now all that incredible definition is encased in black Lycra. I press my knees together. Maybe he doesn’t even need all the armor stuff that came with it. I also wonder if we have time for a quickie before Amie gets here to do my makeup.
“It’s a little tight.” Bancroft smoothes a hand down his chest.
“It’s supposed to be tight.” I start fiddling around with the armor stuff, just to see if I like the costume better with or without it. Bancroft stands with his arms crossed over his chest. He still doesn’t look very impressed. But then he hasn’t seen himself in the costume yet.
“I’m going to be hot in this.”
“Hell yeah, you are.”
“I mean I’m going to sweat.”
“You’ll be fine. And you only have to wear it for like, an hour at most.” I fix the cape to his shoulders. All that’s missing is the Batman mask and he’s perfect. I pull him over to the bed and stand on the mattress so I can get it over his head. Then I take a step back and check him out. He’s so hot. It’s ridiculous.
I jump down off the bed and grab his hand. “Come look.”
He follows me to the full length mirror by the walk-in closet, although I’m half dragging him. I cover his eyes with my hand and position him in front of the mirror before I move them. “Ta-da!”
He stares at his reflection for a lot of seconds. “I can see the outline of my cock.”
I glance at his crotch. He’s right. It’s not super obvious, though. “We’ll just readjust things.” I drop into a crouch, poking him through the shiny fabric. He’s half hard, which is likely part of the problem. His low groan draws my gaze up.
His lip is curled in the hint of a smirk. He’s not looking at me. He’s looking at his reflection in the mirror. “Maybe I don’t mind this costume all that much.”
I snort and make a small adjustment, but I’m just exacerbating the problem. He’s harder now, and more obvious.
“I have a question,” he asks.
“Shoot.”
“How am I going to use the bathroom when I’m wearing this? Won’t I have to take most of it off?”
Now it’s my turn to smirk. I took this into consideration when I made some alterations. I slip my hand over the fabric until I find the hidden flap and slide my hand inside. It takes me a few seconds to work my way around his boxer briefs, but I manage to get his mostly erect cock through the opening.
He snort-groans. “You’re brilliant.”
“Right?”
A wicked grin pulls at the corner of his mouth. “You know what you should do while you’re down there?”
I return the smile. How many people can say they’ve blown Batman?
Chapter 9: Auction
Amie
This dress is so uncomfortable. I can feel the sweat trickling down my spine, as well as down the inside of my thigh. Seriously. I’m disgusting under this thing. Not that it matters. Armstrong had to go out of town on a last-minute business trip this afternoon, leaving me alone as Cinderella in this stupid costume. It was too late to find something else, so here I am, stuck in this poofy dress for the entire night.
Ruby, on the other hand, looks amazing in her form-fitting, sparkly evening gown. It’s costume one of two for this evening. She’s having way too much fun with this whole event.
I, on the other hand, can’t wait for the event to be over so I no longer have to worry about things like the bachelor auction, which Gwendolyn has semi-delegated to me. Getting out of this dress and escaping Armstrong’s mother are two more things I can’t wait for. I keep reassuring myself that after the wedding I won’t have to spend nearly as much time with her.
Also, there are at least three guys here that I may have fooled around with in college. I may have slept with one or two of them, back in my wild, slightly promiscuous phase. That lasted all through freshman and sophomore year. And half of junior year, as well, and maybe a small blip in senior year, but that was a long time ago. Still, I would really like it if I didn’t have to exchange awkward pleasantries with them. At least Armstrong isn’t here, so I don’t have to worry about explaining any awkwardness to him.
But ex-flings and Armstrong’s mother aren’t my biggest concern at the moment. It’s after nine and Lex has yet to show up. The auction is supposed to begin at ten and I still need to brief everyone. There are six eligible bachelors up for bid tonight and he’s one of them. He’s last, and expected to fetch the highest bid, but that’s not going to happen if he doesn’t show. I don’t know how reliable he is, and Armstrong seemed to think it was typical for him to flake out. That’s my interpretation of his assessment. Armstrong would never use the phrase flake out.
Currently I’m hiding in a corner to avoid Gwendolyn, but it’s a difficult feat considering the size of this damn dress. I spot her across the room talking with some women dressed in evening gowns. I’m still unsure who she’s supposed to be tonight. Maybe some queen? The Queen of Bitches?
Feeling safe, I weave my way through the throng of guests. Some of the costumes are amazing. More than one person decided to be Dracula, or a vampire. There’s a couple here who literally look like Barbie and Ken—it’s a bit creepy. I pass Alice in Wonderland, a lonely looking zombie—there was a reason I said no to that theme—and Chewbacca, whose date is Princess Leia, which is a bit . . . odd. I have to say excuse me every two feet, because my dress is just as puffy as every other woman’s in this room. It’s like playing dress bumper cars. I also have to duck behind a group of people to avoid one of my past flings. Dear God. I’ve been to tons of events in the past six months and managed to avoid running into anyone whose bed I’ve been in. Why does it seem like all my bad choices are here tonight?
I spot Bane. He’s a hard man to miss, even if he’s dressed in the same suit as the majority of the men here. I should’ve agreed with Armstrong and had a masquerade party even if it would’ve taken some of the fun out of this for Ruby. It would’ve been easier to navigate and I would have had a better chance of hiding from my soon-to-be mother-in-law and the other people I’m not interested in reminiscing with. Or I could’ve chosen to be a Storm
Trooper, I suppose.
I search the area around Bane’s massive frame, but I don’t see Ruby anywhere. Regardless, he’ll have Lex’s number, he can contact him and find out when he’ll be arriving. I lift my massive skirt and begin the arduous task of crossing the room again.
“Amalie!” Armstrong’s father stops me with a hand on my arm. “Come meet some of my associates. I’m so sorry Armstrong couldn’t be here tonight to see you in this dress. Has anyone sent him a picture so he knows what he’s missing?”
Fredrick’s breath is sharp with scotch and I think I might catch a hint of slur in his words. He puts an arm around my shoulder and turns me to the group of men, all holding glasses of amber liquid. He issues introductions, the last names familiar, and I try to be attentive and gracious while I panic internally. I want this evening to go as smoothly as possible to avoid anything negative from Gwendolyn. I need all the help I can get with her. Our missing bachelor is an issue I’d like to rectify, otherwise I need to find someone else to stand in for Lex and that’s not going to be easy with less than an hour before the auction begins.
Fredrick’s arm is still slung casually over my shoulder. “Isn’t she a catch? Armstrong has great taste in women, just like his father, isn’t that right?” The question seems to be directed at me.
I’m really not sure what to say to that. Gwendolyn is an insufferable bitch. Although, I’ve seen pictures of her when she was younger and hadn’t been subjected to years of Botox and surgery. She was once very pretty. I just nod and smile and blush appropriately before I excuse myself and slip out from under Fredrick’s arm.
I finally reach Bane, who’s drinking imported beer, chatting with his other brother, Griffin, and someone dressed as a gladiator. His back is to me. I fight an eye roll. Clearly whoever it is wanted a reason to be shirtless. As I get closer I notice he’s at least attempted to complete the look with some fake scars. Two thick lines run down his back. His incredibly muscular back. I assume it’s supposed to mimic whip or sword marks. He has a shield propped against his leg. Which is also muscular. A helmet, shoulder armor, and an authentic-looking skirt-type thing complete the costume. He can definitely pull the costume off with a back like that. Actually, the whole package is quite nice.
“Bane.” I put my hand on his forearm to get his attention. It’s loud with the music and the conversation.
“Amie.” His white teeth flash in the chandelier light. “Hey! How’s it going? Have you seen my girlfriend? She’s been missing for a while.”
“I’m actually looking for her. And do you know if Lexington has arrived yet? The bachelor auction starts soon and I haven’t seen him. I need to make sure he knows what’s going on.”
“I’m right here.” The deep male voice is close and yet muffled.
I jump and spin around. The voice is coming from under the gladiator helmet.
“Oh! I didn’t realize it was you.”
I try to keep my eyes above his neck, but they dart down anyway. It’s supposed to be the quickest of glimpses. He looks like an airbrushed model. Ridges defining each and every contour.
Washboard abs flex and ripple as he raises his arms, thickly corded with muscle, his full sleeve tattoo on display, and lifts his helmet. His hair is a mess, damp from being contained. He runs a hand through it, sending it into further disarray. Usually it’s tamed with a perfect part to the left making him authentically the businessman he is. But right now he looks very much the part of the untamed gladiator.
“Excellent costume choice, Lexington.” I place a hand on his forearm. “You’re perfect.”
His brow arches. And I blink a few times. Reviewing what I’ve just said, I rush to complete that thought. “For the auction. You’re perfect for the auction.”
That panty-dropping smile widens. “Anything for charity, Cinderella. Where’s Prince Charming?”
“I’m sorry? What?”
“You’re Cinderella, right? Where’s my cousin? I assume he’s playing at being Charming tonight.”
“Oh! Right. He had a business thing to take care of. Very last minute, so he’s unable to attend.”
“That’s unfortunate.” He sounds very much like he doesn’t mean that in the slightest. He takes my hand and bows, his lips pressing against my knuckle for the briefest moment. It’s completely disarming, exactly like it was a year ago when I met him at a Moorehead function. Incidentally, it was the same night I met Armstrong, who warned me off his too-smooth cousin.
I snatch my hand away and laugh, a little disconcerted. “Have you been practicing that move all day? You should definitely do that when you’re being auctioned, you’ll have women throwing their checkbooks at you. Anyway, once I’ve found Ruby I’ll give you a rundown of how the auction is going to work.”
“I’ve done a bunch of these, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.” He winks.
I turn away from Lexington so I don’t succumb to the urge to look at his abs again.
Bane appears annoyed with his brother. I’m not sure why. His costume is genius. He’s going to garner lots of attention at the auction.
I glance around the room, searching for Ruby, but it’s difficult with the low lighting and all the people. “When was the last time you saw Ruby?” I ask Bane.
“It’s been a while. She mentioned changing her costume, but then she went to get a drink and hasn’t come back yet. To be honest, it’s fine with me if she just stays in that dress so I don’t have to change out of this suit.”
“Have you seen her in the other costume?” She sent me selfies yesterday. It’s amazing how a costume that covers so much skin can still be so scandalously sexy.
“She wanted it to be a surprise. You know how she is.”
I give him a sly smile. “I’m pretty sure once you see it you’ll feel differently.”
Lexington taps me on the shoulder. “Uh. What’s Ruby’s costume again?”
I maintain actual eye contact this time. “She’s supposed to be Catwoman.”
“I think she’s changed then.” He points across the room.
Bane and I follow his finger. I smile as his mouth drops open.
“Sweet fucking Christ.”
“It’s a really great costume, isn’t it?” Ruby is talented with a sewing machine.
The V neckline plunges teasingly low, but stops before it reveals cleavage. Her long hair is pulled up in a ponytail and a simple mask covers her eyes. Her lips are painted a deep, glittery red. The bodysuit clings to her like a second skin, showcasing every curvy inch. Black stilettos complete the look. And of course, a pair of cat ears. She also has a whip. Because why the hell not?
She’s grinning as she slips between guests, drawing attention from all sides. “She needs to put that damn dress back on.” Bane’s hands are in his pockets. I try not to think about what I accidentally got a glimpse of the other day when I was there. Or how Armstrong fails to stack up, even a little.
Chapter 10: Panty Eater
Ruby
Bane looks like he wants to commit several murders as I move through the crowd, which is the exact reason I refused to let him see the costume before this moment. I have a plan for later tonight. And it includes costumes. His and mine. And sex. Hot superhero sex.
Once I’m close enough, I do a little spin and curtsey. “Do you like it?”
Bancroft adjusts his tie, then stuffs his hand back in his pocket, exhaling a low whistle. He clears his throat, but it doesn’t help much with the gravel in it. “A little too much.”
I bet he has a wicked hard-on right now. I wonder how long I have to wait before I can get my hands on it, or more exciting parts of my body.
“Banny!” A collective group-cringe accompanies the shrill sound.
I know that voice. I know it well. It’s Brittany Thorton. I call her Brittany Whore-ton. Because it’s fitting and sometimes I’m juvenile. She also wants to sink her claws into my man. She uses the fact that she’s known him her entire life as an excuse to hug him every time
she sees him. Two broken arms would make that rather difficult.
Back before Bancroft and I were dating, he went out with her once. It was the same night we met.
As expected, she ignores me and throws her arms around his neck like she does every single time. God, I hate her so much. “You have got to be kidding me. Who the hell invited her?” I mutter.
Amie shrugs and Lex watches the interaction with amusement.
I have no idea what her costume is supposed to be. Her dress barely covers her ass, which is typical based on what I’ve seen her wear at other events. She shows up everywhere we are. It’s one of the pitfalls of being connected to all these people with money. They invite each other to everything.
I glare at Bancroft, who’s smart enough not to hug her back with the same level of enthusiasm. In fact, he barely pats her back. He touches her. That’s enough to make me consider using my whip to strangle her.
When she finally lets go of him her nose crinkles. “Who’re you supposed to be?”
She sucks a lollipop into her mouth. Pushing it to the side, she creates a bulge in her cheek.
“Bruce Wayne.”
“Oh.” She tilts her head as if she doesn’t understand. Shrugging, she pulls the lollipop out with a suctiony sound. I want to shove that damn thing up her left nostril. “Are you in the auction again? I brought my checkbook!”
“I’m not a bachelor this year.” Bane looks like he’s trying to keep his smile under control. He knows how much I loathe Brittany, especially when she ignores me on purpose and gets all touchy-feely with him. He thinks it’s funny when I get worked up about it. Probably because the sex afterward is extra feisty. He often comes away with scratches post–Brittany encounters, and then struts around without a shirt on so I can see the damage I’ve done.
“Oh, right. I forgot. You have a girlfriend.”
Lex coughs to cover his laughter. He knows just as well as Bancroft how much Brittany’s continued interest in Bane irritates me.
I push my way between them, wrap one arm around his back and slide one under the lapel of his suit. If it wouldn’t cause a huge scene I’d stick my tongue right down his throat just to make a point, or grab his crotch, but that would be pushing the line a lot. “Hi, Brittany, it’s so great to see you again!” I put on my best fake friendly smile.
Getting Down Page 8
