Sold at the Auction

by Cassandra Dee

  And so I’d given in and was sitting at the hotel bar now, squeezed into an outfit that made me look like Jessica Rabbit. Plus, Abby had slipped me a pair of four-inch nude stilettos, lengthening my legs even if I could hardly walk in them.

  “You won’t have to walk!” she assured me. “Just change your shoes when you get off the subway, the hotel is only one block away,” she instructed. “Sit down at the seat third from the left and wait for a good-looking guy to approach you. Here’s his picture,” she said, thrusting her laptop in my face.

  And I’d gasped at the photo. “Jonah” was astonishingly handsome despite the brooding expression in his profile photo. Dark, almost raven hair left stylishly long, the edges trailing over his collar, with a set of deep, penetrating blue eyes. I could see from his bio that he was six two, one ninety, and liked to work out. Definitely my type – any girl’s type, for that matter.

  “But why don’t you want to go out with him?” I’d asked, taken aback. I mean, Abby was desperate to find a boyfriend and it seemed unlikely that she’d skip over a gem like this.

  “Oh I want to,” she flushed. “But … I dunno, Phil kinda promised me some jewelry,” she confessed.

  Ah ha, so the cat was out of the bag. Abby wasn’t hoping to get back together with her ex, Phil had betrayed her too many times. But he was luring her back with the promise of some bling … I just hoped it was expensive enough to justify my involvement in all this.

  So here I was, pretending to be Abby while meeting a stranger for the first time. I figured it couldn’t be too hard, they hadn’t chatted on the phone so my voice wouldn’t be a giveaway. Plus, I’d read their chat transcripts and it had been reassuringly general, just stuff about shared interests, how expensive NYC was, that kind of thing. I could make up factoids as I went along.

  But it was 8:15 p.m. now and Jonah still hadn’t shown. Maybe he was late? Maybe the whole thing had been a hoax and Jonah didn’t even exist? I’d heard of worse on dating sites. I picked up my purse, getting ready to go when a deep voice rang over my shoulder.

  “Another drink for the lady … Abby is it?” the man asked.

  And I spun around to melt into the bluest eyes I’d ever seen.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Jonah

  The girl was gorgeous. And I mean hands-down, take-your-breath-away, rip-your-heart-apart beautiful. She had a body like Venus, ripe in all the right parts, sheathed in a lavender dress, complimented by creamy skin and gleaming chestnut hair.

  I admit, my expectations had been low. With online dating, you just never know -- I’d been on dates in the past with women whose pictures were ten years out of date or who looked like they’d swallowed a whale before showing up for drinks.

  So when I got a look at the girl from the doorway, I’d momentarily halted in my tracks, unable to believe my luck.

  Abby was looking around shyly, clearly somewhat ill at ease in the luxurious hotel. I liked her already. I’m not really one for fancy places, despite the billions I have to my name, so I like girls who can see beyond garish trappings to what really matters, the conversation and the connection. I’d only picked the Carlyle Hotel because it’s close to my apartment.

  And the wide-eyed wonderment that she displayed was right up my alley. I could see her studying the drink list, marveling at how expensive that shit was, and then asking discreetly for a glass of house wine, probably the cheapest option available.

  Plus, she looked really young, and I mean, less than twenty-five. Her match profile said she was a quarter century, but the girl before me couldn’t have been a day over nineteen. How strange -- most women shave years off their age, not add to it.

  But I was already late because of a stupid meeting that’d gone over at Cambrian Corp., my company, and was determined to start this off on the right foot.

  “Another drink for the lady?” I rumbled to the bartender. And the girl turned, fixing me with the biggest deep brown eyes I’d ever seen.

  “Oh hi,” she said shyly. “I’m Ma- Abby.”

  “Jonah,” I said smoothly. “Pleased to meet you,” I continued, shaking her hand. The small fingers between my big ones were smooth, soft, gentle and trusting, with unpolished nails. Hmm, a girl with no artifice, who didn’t have a standing appointment for mani/pedis at her local Korean spa. Another rarity in Manhattan.

  “So how has your day been?” I asked casually, standing next to her bar stool. The guy next to me was effectively boxed out, giving me a nasty look, but I didn’t care. Hey, if he hadn’t approached within thirty seconds, then he was a loser and deserved to be shut out. Mano a mano, my friend, each man for himself.

  “Oh my day’s been good,” she said shyly, flushing. “I think I mentioned to you I’m in school still? I know, twenty-five is kinda old to go back for a degree but I’m looking to re-tool my career and get into graphic design. So I had class today, worked on my project, just the usual.”

  “Sounds interesting,” I remarked. “And what are you looking to get into? Designing book covers, greeting cards, company logos, that sort of thing?” Cambrian could use a new logo, maybe I could hire her.

  But the girl smiled and clarified.

  “No, I’m going to be an animator, my dream job would be to work for Pixar or DreamWorks, it’d be so amazing to do Star Wars or even Kung Fu Panda,” she said with a wry look. “Kids movies pay really well, believe it or not.”

  And I nodded my head, duly impressed. Women in NYC always have jobs, everyone here works due to the high cost of living. But it didn’t sound like Abby was looking for a free ride from a rich man – she’d gone back to school at considerable expense to elevate her skills, help her get a foothold in a very competitive niche.

  “And do you have a portfolio?” I asked smoothly. As CEO, I’m always looking for talent and good people are good people, no matter how you meet them. I was curious about this girl now, not just to be polite, but as a real person, someone with possibility.

  “Of course!” she laughed lightly. “I’ve been working on it for years now, it’s my pièce de resistance. Of course if it sucks,” she confided lightly, “I’ll be devastated and probably have to commit suicide.”

  That made me laugh, my deep chuckle bringing a few heads around to stare. I knew I was a good-looking guy, with my athletic build and imposing height. To be honest, sometimes the way women trail me with their eyes is downright embarrassing, especially when it’s at a professional function … when they should be acting professionally.

  But I was getting ahead of myself. Abby had piqued my interest not just physically but with her sharp wit and hard work ethic. And there were other parts of me that were getting hard as well …

  “Can I buy you another drink?” I asked smoothly. “I’d love to hear more about animation and what you have in store after graduation.”

  “Oh sure,” the brunette laughed lightly, making my heart jump as her quivering flesh shook in the vee of her dress, the creaminess tantalizing and milky white. “I can talk about this for ages, how much time do you have?” she asked saucily.

  And I settled in to listen to this amazing girl … before we conducted Valentine’s upstairs as well.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Marie

  We stumbled into the hotel room, our hands ripping at each other’s clothes, our bodies grazing, seeking, searching until Jonah pushed me against the wall of the darkened room, assertively thrusting a thick thigh between my legs.

  “Oh!” I exclaimed, startled at the intimacy. A big hand cupped my breast, his fingers warm and reassuring, lightly twisting my nipple through the thin fabric, squeezing, pinching, making me squirm with pleasure.

  Of course, I’ve been manhandled by boys before, but it was always so lame, if you know what I mean. They were amateurs, dudes who fumbled in the dark, who couldn’t even find my breast sometimes despite the fact that I have double D jugs.

  But Jonah was totally different. He was a master at this and had no problem assessing my body, his f
eeling for a woman’s curves innate, masterful, and persuasive.

  “Ohhh!” I moaned into his mouth and the big man chuckled against my lips, squeezing my soft flesh again, rolling my nip with his forefinger and thumb.

  “You like, little girl?” he growled. “How old are you exactly? And don’t give me that bullshit about being twenty-five, you’re not twenty-five, my ass.”

  I choked a bit. How had he figured me out so fast? But I decided to roll with it.

  “You’re right,” I confided breathily in his mouth. “I’m nineteen, but I put that I was twenty-five on my profile because I like older guys. Real men, I mean the ones who aren’t just horndogs, won’t give you the time of day unless you’re in your twenties … so I added a few years.”

  “Mmm,” he groaned. “You’re luscious and fresh, there’s no way any guy would believe you were older. You barely knew how to order wine, little girl,” he teased, trailing a big finger down the vee of my dress and into that tight space between my breasts, my jugs squeezing him tight.

  I flushed, not only at the juicy contact but also at his words. I knew I’d been naive a couple times during the night, it’d been impossible to hide.

  “A glass of merlotte, please,” I’d said to the bartender. The serving man hadn’t batted an eye, merely pouring me a glass of red wine, the mahogany color sophisticated and vibrant, making me feel like an adult.

  But Jonah chuckled low in his chest, raising a finger to say, “And a glass of merlot for me as well.”

  The barkeep had nodded, smoothly pulling another full-bodied pour, the swirling fluid deep scarlet, matching the shade of my cheeks.

  “No worries,” said the big man, turning back to me. “It took me twenty years to learn about wine, a little mispronunciation happens sometimes.”

  And my embarrassment receded, I was so grateful Jonah was kind, showing no snobbery, touching my elbow at key points during our conversation to indicate that he understood me, that we were on the same wavelength.

  So when he proposed going upstairs for a nightcap, I was more than ready.

  “Sure,” I’d said with a sweet smile. “But I didn’t know you were staying at the Carlyle, I thought you had an apartment in the City.”

  “I do,” he replied smoothly, “but our exchange made me think that a room might be nice, just in case we had a little too much to drink and wanted to relax.”

  “Oh I’ve had more than I usually do!” I laughed lightly. “Two glasses is my max, and I’m already on my third,” I confided. Though not tipsy, I definitely felt happy … relaxed and aroused at once.

  So we made our way up in the elevator, and I was so proud to be seen strolling through the hotel with this man. The moment the doors closed, I turned to him with wide eyes but no words, willing him to kiss me, leaning in slowly in that movie-like swoon.

  And Jonah didn’t disappoint. His lips were gentle on mine at first, sweetly trailing my mouth, his tongue tracing the seam between mine before questing for entry, nipping lightly as if asking permission.

  With a slight groan, I gave in and opened fully, my mouth and body, embracing him, clinging to that hard length, letting myself feel the heat of his male form. And if I wasn’t mistaken, there was a different type of snake rising between us, something hard taking shape against my belly, telling me that this man craved me, desired me, wanted to be inside my rising heat.

  But Jonah was careful in the elevator, stroking my curves but also calming me.

  “There are cameras in here, little girl,” he murmured into my ear, “let’s keep it PG, what do you think?”

  “Ohhh,” I whined, tossing a bit in his arms, hardly able to stand. And the big man just chuckled in response, shifting me closer so that he supported my weight, my head lolling back, delirious with pleasure already.

  The door pinged. “Let’s go girlie,” he murmured, sweeping me up striding to the hotel room door. Our lips sealed in a deep kiss, he fumbled in his pocket for the key before letting us into the darkened room.

  I was pressed against the wall, the big man ravishing me, when an odd scratching sound intruded. At first I ignored it, sure that it was my imagination, I was too heady with this man to be aware of anything else. But then the light flicked on and I screamed with terror. There was an intruder sitting in the loveseat, avidly watching us, and he looked exactly like Jonah.

  I cowered behind my date, struggling to pull the bodice of my dress up as the second man chuckled, seated in a chair in the corner.

  “Jonah, I see you’ve brought a live one back,” he rumbled.

  And my date, instead of jumping to action or defending us in some way, merely shielded me, giving me time to adjust.

  “Yeah, she’s gorgeous isn’t she?” he asked. “Perfect for Valentine’s.”

  At this point, I couldn’t hold back any longer.

  “Wait … you know him?” I cried from my huddled position in the corner. “You know this guy? Why does he look exactly like you? Is this an episode of Punk’d? If Abby put you up to this …” I said, before clamping a hand over my mouth. Oh shit, Jonah thought I was Abby. Oops.

  But the big man just chuckled again.

  “You’re not Abby, sure you look like the girl in the pictures, but you’re not her,” he said with a grin. “I knew as soon as I walked into that hotel bar. Plus,” he added, “you had no knowledge of any of our chat transcripts.”

  “What?” I asked dumbfounded. I’d read that transcript and all it talked about was Abby’s last vacation in Peru, her experience climbing Macchu Picchu. I had definitely briefed myself before coming on this date.

  “Well, whoever you are,” said Jonah, “the real Abby must not have shown you the other transcripts from our chat sessions. We’ve been corresponding for three weeks, there’s a lot of … uh, specifics that she didn’t tell you.”

  I was going to throttle my roommate when I got back. This was beyond the pale, I couldn’t believe that she’d held back because she wanted to spend Valentine’s trying to get back with her boyfriend. Boy, was Abby in for a tongue-lashing the moment she got in the door.

  But first, there was the situation at hand.

  “Listen, I’m Marie, Abby’s roommate. She wanted to come tonight, I swear, except her ex promised her jewelry and she couldn’t resist. So she sent me instead because she didn’t want to disappoint,” I said plaintively. “But all she gave me was a chat transcript where you guys talked about hiking in Peru, there was nothing else. So who is this guy here?” I asked confusedly, nodding to the man in the corner. “Do I need to call the police?”

  The big man chuckled. “No need to call the police. The real Abby was evidently a little … curious,” he stated. “I’m Jonah and this is my twin John. We started chatting with Abby on-line because she was interested in dating twins,” he said simply. “So we agreed to meet on Valentine’s Day. I’m sorry her ex is back in the picture, she seemed like an interesting girl, sensitive and open-minded.”

  “Well, she never told me that there were two of you,” I said. “And there was nothing about it in your profile either.”

  “Honey,” said John, the one in the corner. “My brother and I would be the weirdest dudes on Match if we shared a profile. There’s no way any girl would meet up with us if they saw that we’re a double deal, a twofer. Well, I guess perverted chicks, but that’s not what we’re looking for, at least not right off the bat,” he said lasciviously.

  “But what are you looking for?” I asked. I had to say I was intrigued. Both John and Jonah were so big, so gorgeous, so imposing. What would it be like to be with two men?

  John shrugged, still in his chair.

  “We’re looking for someone who’s open to new experiences, that’s all,” he said simply. “Someone who won’t judge, who likes to sample new things. Abby seemed like that girl … and it seems that Jonah thought you fit the bill too, considering that he brought you up here.”

  I thought about it for a moment. What would happen if I sampled t
wins? Would my life go up in flames? Would I be labeled a slut?

  No, I decided firmly. I was tired of being a boring student, focused one hundred percent on my studies. I needed to get out, live a little, have some stories to tell my grandkids, you know? Okay, maybe this wasn’t quite the story to share, but you get what I mean.

  I took a deep breath.

  “I think I could be … I mean, I’m willing to try and be the girl you’re looking for,” I said, looking both men straight in the eye. “Just for tonight, at least,” I added hastily.

  And both men smiled, a deep chuckle rumbling from Jonah’s throat.

  “I thought you’d be,” he said silkily. “I knew it from the moment I saw you.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Marie

  “So what’s next?” I asked tentatively. “Do we talk more? Do we … I dunno, rip our clothes off now?”

  John laughed from his corner, slowly uncrossing his legs to stand before stalking towards us. God, he really was gorgeous, a replica of his brother, all tall, dominating male animal, ink-black hair with bronzed skin, his eyes penetrating even in the dimly lit room.

  “Baby, we’re not that coarse,” he said. “It’s not just wham, bam, thank you ma’am. We want to get to know you a bit. Jonah got his chance downstairs, now I get mine,” he said, moving towards me like a lion tracking its prey.

  But I didn’t feel scared. I felt warm, overheated almost, the center of attention of this magnificent duo.

  “Please,” I said slowly. “I’ve never done this and I didn’t even know this was on the menu tonight. Slow okay? I just need some time to get my bearings.”

  “Of course honey,” said Jonah smoothly. “Why don’t you come over and sit on the couch? John and I won’t even be on your side of the room, you can just take your time getting to know us.”

  The other side of the room? That was a little far, but okay, the men respected my personal space, my plea to edge into things instead of diving in headfirst. I sat primly on the love seat, rearranging my dress, crossing my legs in a lady-like fashion before fluffing out my hair and looking up again.