by Gillian Zane
All she could see of the auction items were the elaborate balloon centerpieces, and printed signs that described each item for auction, along with instructions on how to download the app. Bobbie had no idea what Chuck’s charity, BABs Humanity Effort, did, but it seemed to be popular with men. It was a packed house with a high ratio of men to women in the crowd. In fact, the majority of faces peering at her from the dance floor were men. Viv would call this a sausage fest.
Most of the guys in attendance looked like business men, dressed in suits, or polos and dress slacks. There were a few that were more casual in jeans and button downs, but most of them were dressed better than the usual bar crowd Bobbie was used to.
As Bobbie was scanning the crowd she felt of tickle of awareness in her chest, a charged air feeling like you would experience before an electrical storm. Across the room, two men stood straight as boards, reminding her of military men. They stood out from the crowd around them, not because of size or stature, but because of the way they held themselves, and for the simple fact that they did not talk, they held no drinks, and they stared straight at Bobbie.
It took Bobbie a moment to digest another startling fact. They were exact replicas of each other. Identical twins down to the smallest detail. That was something you didn’t see every day. Made even more rare by the fact that they were ass slapping, panty wetting, jaw-dropping hot. Like hawt with the annoying aw in it. It was rare enough to see one incredibly delicious looking man, but give him a twin and that was the shit out of a really good made-for-chicks porno. They stood tall compared to the other men around them, but not stand-out large, maybe an inch or two over six foot if she was judging correctly from this distance. They had perfectly bronzed skin, as if they had Middle Eastern or Hispanic roots, and to add to that ethnic look, their hair was the darkest black and hung down around their faces in messy waves.
Her eyes locked with the twin that stood closer to the stage and she was startled to notice that she could tell what color eyes he had from this far way. They were the most intense shade of piercing green. She could only find one word to describe them: stunning. They exuded intensity she could almost feel, rubbing against her skin from across the room. She couldn’t stop staring. She wanted to walk over and smell them.
That was an odd thought. Even for Bobbie, but that was precisely what she wanted to do. Men like those two had to smell delectable, like let me lick your neck yummy. Anything else would have been a crime of nature. She frowned at her own perverted narrative, but her hormones were ramping up just looking at these two. If looking at them did this to her, what would it be like to—she couldn’t open that can of worms when she was about to go up on a stage in front of hundreds. She was so flustered by her own thoughts she lost her balance on the step and grabbed the woman next to her to steady herself.
“Sorry,” she mumbled an apology.
“Geez.” The woman steadied her with a scowl, but when she saw what had captured Bobbie’s attention she froze. “Oh wow, yeah, I would fall over, too.”
A stirring of jealousy filtered into the lower parts of Bobbie’s stomach and again she was struck by her strange emotional reaction to these men. These men were nothing to her, yet they were stirring up all kinds of drama in her brain? She tried to tell herself she was acting ridiculous, but that didn’t stop the feeling of possessiveness deep in her gut. Their eyes were still on her, and she could feel their gazes trailing up and down her body, leaving a path of heat that had her panting slightly and her cheeks going bright red. She needed to calm herself. She turned her back quickly and hid her face. She wasn’t used to this kind of reaction to someone of the male species.
“Wonder where they breed men like that,” another auction item added. “Because I’ve never seen anything quite like those men before.”
“Me either,” Bobbie managed to choke out, getting the nerve to turn and face the twins again. She was trying to control the urge to poke these girls in the eyes and scream, “mine!” Her eyes found them in the crowd again, and they were still looking at her. Intense and almost feral, their gaze devoured her, but there was little emotion in their countenances, only something that could be described as calculation. There was no denying they wanted something from her. She hoped they weren’t debt collectors, illegal organ harvesters, or something else equally nefarious.
She didn’t know what to feel about their intense stare, only what it was doing to her insides. It was turning her on in the weirdest way, and giving her the urge to rush over there and lay a claim. From the look they shared, her outlook on the auction did a full 180, because Bobbie wanted to be auctioned, and she desperately wanted those two fine specimens to bid on her and win. She didn’t care which one, only that one of them needed to win her.
“Now for the main event. Ladies and gentlemen, get out those bidding paddles because do we have something exciting for you! I have gathered ten single ladies and gentlemen from across the city, all prime specimens of singleness. They are ready and willing to go out on a date with you! Local restaurants have graciously donated fully comped meals, along with tickets to some of the latest Broadway extravaganzas…how can you deny the awesome that is this auction? You get a free meal and maybe make a love connection, or a new friend in the process! Get those paddles out!”
Bobbie heard Chuck’s words, but her mind was elsewhere. She shyly looked up and tried to find the twins. She saw that one of them was talking very animated, she presumed to the other. He held up his wrist to cover his mouth, but she could see the dip of his jaw, the rise of his eyebrows. She wondered what they were talking about. Maybe they were talking about her? Maybe they were fighting over who would get to bid on her. In Bobbie’s dreams.
“Roberta!” Chuck’s voice snapped her from her inner musing about the twins and she smiled; an automated response.
“Come here, Roberta. Isn’t she lovely, gentlemen? Because, yes, Roberta, likes men…don’t we, Roberta? That means this bid is for the gentlemen in the house. Sorry, ladies, but don’t worry, we have some for you, too, just a little bit later!” Bobbie nodded dumbly and walked out onto the stage. She found a spot with an X marked in tape and stood there trying to look casual. The lights were too bright, she couldn’t see the crowd. A loud applause had broken out and she looked at Chuck questioningly. “For you, dumbass,” he mouthed. Bobbie smiled a nervous smile and did some weird curtsy thing that she prayed to God didn’t get recorded and uploaded to social media. She tottered and glared at the man with his phone held high. She knew she wouldn’t get out of this without a modicum of embarrassment. She just hoped it wouldn’t be that life-shattering, like make it on a meme.
When the female stepped onto the raised platform in the middle of the room, Roc felt the floor beneath his feet give way. Time stopped and his vision narrowed to only her. Every beat of his heart, every pulse of his veins changed orbit and found her as its center of rotation. She was his sun, and he sighed as his entire being aligned around her. He rubbed his fingers together, looking down to see a charge spark between his digits. He stared down in shock. The truth of everything shown to him in that tiny spark. They were charged. The prophesy was true.
His people channeled energy through their molecules; it was how they split, how they gained sight. His world was all about energy. Yet, he had never experienced energy manifesting in this way. The euphoria of the culmination of half a century of searching filled the void that was inside of him. The void he hadn’t realized existed so absolutely until this moment. He had yearned for his Charge Mate, for what it could mean, but he hadn't realized exactly how his life would become complete once this mission was over. Goosebumps broke out on his skin, and it felt like his hair was standing on end. It was true. He had found her.
He had begun to doubt the prophesy. Especially after so much time had passed in his search. This planet was too big. The people too many. He thought he was chasing someone compatible. Maybe slightly matched. But, here he stood, looking up at a female whose charge matched his
perfectly.
A female of another species. This was supposed to be impossible. He had found his Charge Mate.
The shamans of his world called it the fingerprint of the creators. His people’s and Earth’s people shared similar natures. But to share a charge! This would set his world upside down. This proved that the life that existed on the Otherworlds were too much of a coincidence to be not engineered. The Universe was so vast, so foreign, the intelligent species of the universe so varied, yet, here in this section of the galaxy, across a shared wormhole, lay two planets with intelligent life that matched. Both species were so similar they could be the same. Both had the spark within them, and they could reproduce together. If that wasn’t a sign of an intelligent creator, then what was? Some argued that his people were seeded from a great species of aliens that came before them. A species that created life in its image and planted them on the nearby planets. Roc didn’t know what to believe, he only knew he was staring at his destiny. His female.
The female in question was breathtaking. Absolutely perfect. She was a rare flower in a sea of common wildflowers. Statuesque and lush, her height rivaled most females on his planet, but where the females of his planet were petite and willow-thin, she had curves upon curves. He hadn’t thought he would be so fascinated with breasts, but the dress she wore showcased the sides of them, and their plump roundness teased him with the hope that the material would move an iota and show him the world.
His dick hardened, and he adjusted himself. It even affected his other manifestations, which usually wasn’t the case. He was hard as a rock, even on his homeworld, which was kind of embarrassing since he was in a meeting back in Thames.
Distracting himself, he focused the majority of his consciousness on the meeting about the centralized sewage system in the Capital City. It wasn’t working. The female—his Charge Mate, did a turn and her skirt flared slightly, her calves, the coloring so different from what he was used to, were exposed for everyone in the room’s eyes to behold. Their creaminess, tantalizing even from this far away.
She was an apparition he couldn’t have imagined. Different, but the epitome of everything he could have asked for in a Charge Mate. Her hair was the color of his favorite flower, the Kori that bloomed on the side of Mele Mountain, the highest peak near his home and a favorite spot of his from childhood. Her red locks were highlighted with what looked like spun gold and hints of rose that cascaded down her body in a style that reminded him of a waterfall.
Roc wanted to rush the stage and claim her as his own. He wanted to throw her over his shoulder and bring her to the nearest bed, and explore every inch of her creamy skin. He could imagine his bronze hand against her thigh, such a contrast in color. He knew that she was his perfect match. Every molecule of his being recognized her as his Charge Mate. She was everything he could have ever wished for and more, and all he had to do was buy her.
6
Can I please buy a redhead?
“Roberta, Roberta, Roberta!” Chuck did a bow in her general direction. “This fiery redhead is every male’s dream! Roberta, who her friends call Bobbie, is one of the city’s top Estimators at Putman and Urgon. She is a Virgo and likes her men well-equipped…” He paused for dramatic effect and there were a few titters in the crowd. Bobbie felt her cheeks get hot and she could have killed Chuck if they weren’t in public. “…with the necessary tools to treat her right. If you bid on a date with Bobbie, our sponsors have donated a Monica Limousine service for the two of you, dinner at L’Ubligia and a make-over for both of you at Lapistos’ Salon and Spa, along with two tickets to see Big Catch at the Totalia. Nice, right?” He paused for the crowd to clap and they did as expected.
“Roberta is a catch, gentlemen, she’s a non-smoker, doesn’t have a cat and probably makes more money than you. Let’s start the bidding at a cool five, what say you, boys?”
A man raised his hand from the corner and Bobbie could have died of embarrassment. She recognized him from her building. They didn’t work for the same company, but maybe he was bidding out of pity? Five hundred didn’t seem worth all the donations of things they would get to do. Or was it five dollars? That would be ridiculous. Why did Chuck start it so low?
“Six, anyone for six thousand?” Chuck called and another man at the back of the room raised his hand.
Six thousand? Bobbie’s mouth popped open in shock and she made a point of slamming it shut when Chuck shot her a look. A man in the back raised his paddle. Another one after that. Then another. She could feel her cheeks flaming and she had to do a breathing technique her therapist taught her to keep her panic in check.
“Ten, anyone for ten?” Bobbie’s eyes shot up trying to see through the bright stage lights. Her eyes landed on one of the twins, a paddle held high. That slow burn of arousal washed over her from her chest to her thighs. It was lustful anticipation and something Bobbie had never experienced before in her life. If they could turn her on just from a look, she couldn’t imagine what they would do if they won the date. She worked up the nerve and shot the twins her biggest come-hither smile, hopefully conveying to them that their bidding was welcome and to do more of it.
The number increased. There were two men in the back that were bidding against one of the twins and all three seemed dead set on winning. One of the men in the back would throw up his paddle, then the other guy, who Bobbie couldn’t see that well, would throw his up, and then promptly one of the twins would bid. When it hit twenty-five, it was between the twins and only one man, at thirty the man in the back shook his head and disappeared into the shadows. Bobbie felt bile rise in her throat.
Thirty. Fucking. Thousand. Dollars. All to win a date with Bobbie Flemming. She couldn’t believe it. And one of the twins had won. One of the twins who turned her on with just a look. She needed to get some air, she might be hyperventilating. She might be about to spontaneously combust. She was having some kind of fit. Like in the old times. Where were smelling salts when you needed them?
“Sir, you have yourself a date! Come claim your prize. Get to know the lovely Roberta, and you guys can set up a date to get together.” Chuck motioned for Bobbie to leave the stage and began to introduce the next person.
Bobbie carefully made her way down the stairs, her high heels a menace when it came to the uneven floor. Her eyes were on her feet as she took the couple of steps to the dance floor and when she looked up, there were two massive men standing there with a woman in a headset talking to them in a fast, high-pitched download of information.
“You have thirty days to claim your…err, date,” she was saying. “When you agree on a time, come find me and I’ll make the reservations for you. You can go for your makeovers that morning and we’ll have limos to take you to your set meeting place. Get to know each other, find me when you’ve agreed. Enjoy yourself, you have no obligation to each other tonight, other than to set that date,” she repeated over and over again, until finally one of the twins stepped around her to face Bobbie.
The twins didn’t even look at the woman who was talking. One took the business card she forced into his hand, but their eyes never left Bobbie’s. They had spent thirty grand for a date with her. A tingle of apprehension washed over her. What kind of person spends that kind of money to win a date with someone like her? Chuck had greatly exaggerated her monetary status, plus she wasn’t that easy on the eyes, so why? Maybe it was the dress?
She didn’t make a lot of money at her job. She barely had two grand in the bank for her future retirement, much less thirty lying around waiting to be given to a charity for a date. She began to seriously doubt this guy’s frame of mind, but then she started to think about which man was it exactly? She didn’t know which one of the twins was her date. Would they both go on the date with her? That would be pretty awkward. Her inner boujee princess did think it might be interesting, maybe sexy, but awkward nonetheless. The mechanics of the whole thing would just be weird to work out. What would go where? Her cheeks flamed at the thought as she
knew exactly what she wanted where.
As Bobbie’s mind drifted to the mechanics of dating both twins, she didn’t hear one of the twins as he spoke. He was smiling, but didn’t look happy if that made sense, or friendly for that matter. It looked forced. His smile was rather menacing, and scary as hell as she thought of what could go wrong with this entire scenario. Her legs shook a bit, and her own smile fell from her face, lustful thoughts gone as a million and one ID Channel scenarios fluttered through her brain. Stranger danger! Had she really been dying for them to win the auction? What was wrong with her!?
“I’ll need you to fill out some paperwork. Would you like to take a seat in the VIP section and I’ll come up and find you?” The woman broke the weird moment, and pointed to the VIP seating area.
“Yes,” the smiling twin said stiffly.
“Do you need an usher?” the woman asked.
“I know the way,” Bobbie said helpfully, thinking this might be a good time to make a break for it. She did not want to be alone with these men. They were a lot bigger than she initially thought. They must be at least six foot five. And not a lanky tallness. Their shoulders were wide and imposing, their bodies large and muscled. They wore suits that fit their physique perfectly and screamed money and privilege.
“I would like to join you in a quiet spot, female,” one smiling twin said in a heavily accented voice. Bobbie was usually good about placing regional accents, but she didn’t recognize this one at all.
“Bobbie, female is not appropriate,” she corrected automatically as she moved forward through the crowd. People moved to the side as soon as they noticed what trailed behind her.
“Bobbie,” the man repeated, as if the word was foreign on his tongue. They had made it across the dance floor with no issues, and the bouncer undid the velvet rope when Bobbie fished the lanyard out of her purse and flashed it.
