Getting Down

by Helena Hunting

  “I sincerely doubt it. He faints at the sight of blood.”

  “That guy’s a whack job.”

  “Uh-huh. I sincerely appreciate you posing as my fiancé and punching him.”

  “Anytime you need me to punch out an ex, or even your current fiancé, you just let me know and I’m there.” He winks, but I have a feeling he might be serious about my current fiancé.

  “Okay, well,” Ruby claps her hands together. “I think you’re channeling the spirit of gladiator perfectly tonight, Lex. Keep that up when you’re on the stage so we can make some serious money off of you.”

  Gwendolyn comes rushing backstage, looking as if her head is going to explode. “Amalie! There you are! You won’t believe what just happened. Some man dressed as Peter Pan was in the foyer, screaming about having his panties stolen. Can you even believe it? Bancroft is escorting him off the property. I don’t even know how he managed to get on the guest list.”

  Ruby and I give each other a look. Of all the nights for Armstrong to miss a party, this is definitely a good one.

  Chapter 12: Costume Malfunction

  Ruby

  Gwendolyn has forced Amie to come up on stage with her to help auction off the men. I’ve been relegated to backstage duty—Gwendolyn thinks my costume is too suggestive. Those weren’t her exact words, but her twitchy face and her pinched lips were a significant enough tell, along with her tone when she called my costume inappropriate.

  Amie is not a huge fan of being in front of hundreds of people unless it’s associated with presenting in a boardroom. Apparently when there are slides and a presentation it’s a lot different. I suppose that makes sense. This is unstructured.

  My job is to make sure the guys are prepared, look dapper—or in Lex’s case, hot enough to cause women to succumb to the vapors—and make it out on stage for their auction slot. It’s pretty easy. So far we’ve managed to raise more than a hundred and forty thousand dollars and we still have two bachelors to go. One of them is Wentworth Williams. He once flirted with me at a party back when Bancroft and I were yet to be defined and I was only his pet sitter, not his live-in girlfriend.

  The first time I met Wentworth, within an hour he intimated that he wanted to get naked with me. He’s been well-behaved this evening, perhaps because Lex is right here, and Wentworth is aware that I’m living with Bancroft. He’s been ultra-polite.

  Lex is looking at his phone when something else catches his attention. He frowns, his stance becoming defensive. Dear God, the panty chewer better not be back. The curtains part and Bancroft comes through, dressed as Batman.

  Lex’s posture relaxes immediately and he directs his smirk at me. “You have to be responsible for that.”

  I grin. “Totally.”

  “You take care of that guy?” Lex asks Bane.

  “Oh, yeah. He’s gone.” Bancroft nods to Wentworth and slips an arm around my waist. It’s an intentionally possessive move. Especially when he kisses my temple and pulls me into his side. “That guy’s a little obsessed, huh? A bit of a nutbar? Is he from Amie’s anarchy days?”

  “Anarchy days?” Lex’s grin widens.

  I wave a hand around, as if it’s not important. “She was a bit of a wild child. Anyway, that guy chews holes in panties, and he’s a little unhinged. I think that’s about as much as you all need to know.” It’s really not my story to tell, especially in front of Lex. Maybe later, when I’m alone with Bane and we’re not having sex, I’ll tell him about that brief, weird relationship.

  “I’ll just leave that one alone, then.”

  “That’s probably for the best.” I run my hand over his chest. His broad, Lycra-covered chest. I can’t wait until we’re up in our room and having superhero sex.

  A round of applause makes it difficult to hear Lex’s question and a few moments later Wentworth is being called to the stage. I don’t adjust his tie like I have everyone else, because there’s no way Bane is going to let go of me to make that happen. Also, his hand is wandering and I can feel his hard-on against my hip.

  Once Wentworth disappears through the curtains Lex looks up from his phone. “You two don’t need to babysit me, I’ve done this a bunch of times. I know the drill. Go get a drink.” He motions to the curtains leading to the stage. “This’ll take a while, anyway.”

  I’m starting to get hot in this costume. A drink would be great. “Can I get you anything?”

  He shakes his empty glass. “Scotch and soda would be good.”

  I nab it from him. “I’ll be back in a few.”

  “Take your time.” He glances at his phone again.

  I head for the stairs, but before I get too far, fingers wrap around my wrist and I’m pulled back into a hard wall of muscle. Bancroft’s cape flutters around me, caging me in. Picking me up, he takes me in the opposite direction of the bar, and back behind the stage.

  “What’re you doing?” I whisper hiss.

  “This costume is killing me,” he mutters.

  “Like you’re uncomfortable?” I can’t see how that’s possible; his costume is the softest, stretchiest fabric in the world. Warm maybe, because Lycra isn’t known for being super breathable.

  I’m dangling about six inches above the floor, my back pressed to his front. He shifts his hips so I can feel his hard-on. “No. You’re making my balls ache. I need to take the edge off.”

  “But we’re supposed to get a drink for Lex.”

  “Lex can get his own drink. We’ll be quick.” He heads toward the closest door. Pushing it open, he hits the light. It’s a supply closet. “This’ll have to do.”

  It closes behind us and he sets me down, flipping the lock before he pushes me up against the wall and crushes his mouth to mine. Well, I guess I know how he feels about the Catwoman costume. Grinding against me, he strips off his gloves and runs his hands over my shiny black cat suit, groping my breasts, sliding them over my hips, and cupping them between my legs. Tearing his mouth away he exhales a harsh breath. “Fuck, you’re so hot. Why is this so hot? Motherfucker.”

  He groans when I palm him through his Batman suit, then slip my hand into the secret pocket and wrestle him free. He wasn’t kidding about this costume driving him nuts; he’s rock solid. His cock kicks in my hand as I run my thumb over the head. My nails are painted red.

  He takes my face in his hands, tilts my head back and his mouth is on mine again, tongue forcing its way past my lips, each stroke hot and aggressive. Exactly the way he’s pumping into my hand.

  “I want inside you.” His hands move down my sides and he grabs my ass, the other coming around to slip between my thighs. “How do I get into this?”

  I have to push on his chest with some real force to get him to back up. “I’ll show you.”

  He closes his hand around mine when I try to let go of his erection.

  I give him a devious smile. “I can’t show you if you’re fucking my hand, can I?”

  He’s quick to let me go. Arching my back, I reach behind me and find the zipper. When I get halfway I have to move to the front to unzip it the rest of the way. I installed a hidden zipper that starts at my tailbone and ends at my navel in preparation for this exact event.

  I turn around and bend over, showing him my bare ass. I’m without panties—otherwise, what would be the point?

  “You’re a goddamn genius.” Bane spins me around, grabs me by the ass and lifts me. I wrap my legs around his waist and his thick head slides over my clit. “I’ll love you better later,” he promises, and then he slips low and pushes inside.

  It’s a fast, frantic fuck. I bite his shoulder so I don’t make too much noise. I doubt anyone will be able to hear us with the auction going on, but just in case, I want to limit my pleasure sounds. I know when he’s getting close because he tugs on my ponytail. I lift my head and his palm slips under my chin, holding my face while he drills me into the door, eyes on mine.

  He’s wearing the Batman mask. It’s so sexy. I think I may have a costume fetis
h. Thankfully, Bane seems to share it.

  He slips his thumb between my lips. “That’s gonna be my cock as soon as we get to the room.”

  I come, groaning his name because I love his dirty mouth, and he’s right, that’s exactly what’s going to happen. I’m so glad we’re staying at the hotel tonight and that Bane has booked us into one of the lavish presidential suites. We have all night to get our freaky sex on. It’s going to be amazing. A few more thrusts and he follows right after me, declaring his love of fucking Catwoman.

  After a few long moments of just breathing, he steps back from the door and I unwrap my legs from his waist. As he starts to set me down there’s a horrible ripping sound. We freeze, eyes on each other.

  “I really hope that wasn’t anything important,” he says with a nervous chuckle.

  Together, we look down. It’s impossible to see what the issue is with the black on black material. He bends at the knee and I lower my legs carefully to the ground, but when he tries to pull away another tear reverberates loudly through the room.

  My carefully sewed secret front pocket in his Batman leotard is ripped wide open. But that’s not the worst part. The zipper on my cat suit has torn as well, leaving a huge hole at my crotch. The two seem to have gotten caught on each other with all the thrusting.

  “Oh shit. That’s not good.”

  “No, no, it’s not.” I try to separate us, but all I manage to do is make the hole in my costume bigger. “I have to be back out there soon. Gwendolyn is going to give some huge speech and make me go out there and thank everyone for coming. I can’t do that with my vagina hanging out!” I gesture wildly to my crotch. Panic is setting in. This is an epic wardrobe malfunction.

  “Fuck. Shit.” Bane tries to run his hand through his hair, except he’s wearing the mask, so he runs it over that instead. He takes a deep breath and goes into problem-solving mode. “Where’s your dress?”

  “In our room.”

  “Fuck. So we have to get to the elevators.”

  I bite my lip. “And up to the twenty-third floor without being seen.”

  He exhales a breath, nods once, grabs my ass, and hoists me back up.

  I grab his shoulders. “What’re you doing?”

  “Taking you to your dress.” He wraps his cape around us, holding it closed with one hand.

  “Right. Okay.” I throw the lock.

  Bane peeks his head out into the hallway. The coast is clear so far. He creeps down the hall, as much as a six-three, two-hundred-plus-pound man can creep anywhere with a woman attached to the front of his body. If I wasn’t so worried about having to be back onstage, I might think this whole situation was hilarious. I don’t even know how long we were in the supply closet. I don’t think I’ll get over the panic until I’m back in my dress.

  We manage to get to the doors leading to the hallway without being seen, which is a miracle since we have to pass Lexington, who’s still waiting for his turn to go up on stage. Wow, I didn’t expect Wentworth to be such a hit with the ladies, or maybe we were a lot faster than I thought.

  Just when I think we’re in the clear I peek my head out into the foyer and note several guests milling around there. Goddammit. Why aren’t they in the ballroom, taking part in the auction, or at least watching it go down like they’re supposed to?

  I push him back before anyone sees me. “Shit. What are we going to do?”

  Bancroft gives his head a shake. “I’m an idiot.”

  “No you’re not. You were horny, and that’s totally okay, but I need to figure out a way to get my dress back on my body so not everyone gets to see my used cooch.”

  He tries to set me down, but I cling to him. “Let go, babe.” He pries my fingers free. “You stay here, I’ll get the dress and bring it back down as fast as I can. I’ll take the stairs if I have to.”

  “Why didn’t we think of this in the first place?”

  “Panic is good for making people dumb. I’ll meet you back in the supply room.” He kisses me quickly and then he rushes out the door, leaving me in the hallway with a very drafty crotch.

  I tug at the zipper, but it’s bent and pulled free from the teeth. I’ll have to replace it entirely to fix it. With my hands over my crotch and my back against the wall I shimmy my way through the dimly lit hallway, back to the supply closet to wait.

  I’m not quite so lucky this time around with going unnoticed. As I’m passing backstage, my black outfit against the cream wallpaper must catch Lex’s attention. He glances over and spots me before I can duck out of sight. Not that there’s anywhere to duck into. The supply closet is still a good twenty feet away and I’m not free to move quickly unless I want to flash him.

  I’m sure my smile is more of a grimace. He leaves his post and saunters over to me, looking suspicious. “What’s going on, Ruby? Where’s Bane?”

  “Oh nothing, he’s just gone back to the room for a minute. He’ll be right back.”

  He tilts his head to the side, eyes narrowed a little. “I thought you were getting drinks.”

  “I was. I am. I just, we uh . . .” Shit. If he finds out what happened he’s never going to let either one of us live it down.

  “Why are you standing like that?”

  “I had a bit of a costume mishap.” I can give him a smidgen of truth.

  He comes a little closer. “What kind of mishap?”

  “My zipper broke.” Okay, maybe more of the truth is okay. He doesn’t need to know how it happened.

  That signature smirk pulls at the corner of his mouth. “Oh, yeah? What were you two doing to break a zipper?”

  “It just, I just—” God. I lie professionally for a living—I fake being another human being, living another life five nights a week and I can’t even come up with a plausible lie to tell my boyfriend’s smirking brother.

  Suddenly, Lexington’s name is called from the other side of the curtain. The crowd erupts in applause, along with the sound of female whistles.

  “You have to go.” I cross my legs and try to shoo him toward the stage. When he doesn’t move right away, I hiss, “Go! You can’t keep Amie waiting like that, do you know how much stress this whole thing is causing her?”

  “I seriously don’t understand why she’s marrying my dickbag cousin.” He turns and heads toward the stage.

  “That makes two of us,” I mutter.

  I must not have been quiet enough, because he glances over his shoulder, looking like he wants to say something.

  “Can you do me a favor?” I don’t wait for him to say yes. “Make it take a while, please. I can’t go out there until I’m back in my dress.”

  Lex winks and bows, then steps through the curtains and the crowd screams. God, he really thrives on the attention. And at this moment, I love him for it.

  It’s another five minutes before Bancroft returns with my dress and his suit in hand. He’s sweaty, but at least he’s here and I won’t have to embarrass myself or anyone else with indecent exposure.

  “Did you run into anyone on the way?” I rush to change back into it while Bane does the same. It’s the night of missing crotches, it seems.

  “Brittany was getting off the elevator when I was getting on, but it was uneventful otherwise.”

  Bane helps me fix my hair. My lipstick is worn off completely, but there’s nothing I can really do about that. I turn around. “I’m good?”

  He gives my ass a little squeeze. “You’re phenomenal.”

  “That could’ve been an absolute disaster.” I push up on my toes. “I need to get back out there.”

  “I’m right behind you.”

  He opens the supply closet door and peeks out. The coast seems clear. I pretend like I didn’t just have sex in a supply closet, where I ripped the crotch out of my costume—thank God I had the good sense to have two—and make my way back to the stage where I hear a cacophony of screaming women. What the hell is going on out there?

  I rush to the curtains and peek through them. Lex is strut
ting around on stage and there are about fifty hands in the air. Amie’s eyes are saucer wide and her hand is at her throat. Gwendolyn is fanning herself with a piece of paper. Bids are being shouted rapid fire. He’s already at a hundred thousand dollars. He’s been out there for all of ten minutes and the ladies are going wild.

  It takes another ten minutes and fifty thousand dollars before the auction finally ends. Lexington has been purchased by someone other than Brittany. I’m sure he’s relieved.

  I’m summoned to the stage to celebrate the nearly four hundred thousand dollars we’ve raised through the bachelor auction. Once we’re done thanking the guests, I thread my arm through Amie’s and lead her to the bar because I sure as hell need a drink and she looks like she needs about seven.

  “What happened with Lex?” I ask after I’ve placed an order for two glasses of champagne. He’s already been claimed by his purchaser. I wonder if she thinks the date starts immediately.

  Amie grabs hers almost before the bartender is finished pouring, chugs it, and signals him to refill it. “Lex flipped up his skirt thing.” At my confused expression she fills in the blank. “He wasn’t wearing underwear.”

  “Oh!” As that news sets in I ask what I assume I already know, based on the reaction of the women in the audience. “I assume that means he’s . . . ample.”

  “Well.” Amie gulps half of her second glass of champagne in one swallow. “I sincerely hope he’s a shower and not a grower, otherwise we should consider renaming him Vlad the Vagina Impaler.”

  I snort. “You’re exaggerating.”

  “Oh no, I am not. He could destroy someone with that thing.” Her cheeks flush, whether from the champagne or the memory of being flashed, I can’t be sure. Possibly both considering she’s finished her second glass and is going for her third.

  She motions to me. “What happened to your Catwoman suit?”

  I smooth my hand over my stomach. “There was a bit of a problem with the zipper.”

  “What kind of problem?”

  “It broke.” I sip my champagne and avoid her gaze.

  “And how did that happen?”