“Yeah…” Bryant exhaled sharply and nodded.
We stared at each other for a couple of seconds before we finally walked to our seats. My thoughts were jumbled, and I couldn’t even focus on the first piece of art when it was auctioned off. I used Alexis Devereaux’s arrival as an excuse to do what I had wanted to do since Bryant walked me to my car after the art show. I convinced myself that I could be his date for the auction and that would be the end of it—but I let my imagination get away from me. I wasn’t a little girl crushing on my best friend’s hot-dad anymore—it had turned into more than that—especially when I saw how he looked at me. Just being close to him made my pulse race, and my heart beat out of control. Kissing him made me quiver—and I was tingling from head to toe when he reached over and took my hand once we were seated.
I need to get these thoughts out of my head—it doesn’t matter if I’m attracted to him. That kiss needs to be our last…
The auction appeared to be a fashion show for the Carson Cove privileged, just like the art show. I felt like the most underdressed woman in the room, but it was hard not to feel that way with so much privilege surrounding me—some of the dresses I saw probably cost more than my entire closet. There were a couple of waiters in tuxedos walking around to top off drinks. Even the auction paddles we got at the door were fancy—they were crafted from mahogany with the Wellington’s logo burned into the front and the date of the auction on the back.
“I’m going to bid on this one.” Bryant winked at me when Mr. Wellington’s assistants rolled the Picasso to the middle of the stage.
“Good luck.” I looked at him and smiled.
Mr. Wellington went through a brief description of the painting, and then he asked for the first bid. Bryant didn’t raise his auction paddle immediately. He kept it in his lap and waited until a couple of others started to bid—then he made his intentions known. All he had to do was raise his auction paddle to scare off several of the other people who thought they were going to take the Picasso home with them. It seemed like they admitted defeat immediately—Bryant simply commanded the room to cower when he made his first bid. Seeing that was kind of hot—I had never seen that many wealthy people wilt before my eyes before. A couple of people bid against him, but he quickly raised it out of their price range. It looked like the Picasso was his—until I saw a paddle that hadn’t been raised before lift—and the icy glare of Alexis Devereaux focused on us.
“Fuck…” Bryant muttered under his breath and raised his paddle. “She’s going to drive the price up and make me spend way more than I expected…”
“What a bitch.” I narrowed my eyes and met Alexis’ icy glare with the best one I could muster—I don’t know if I actually looked intimidating or not.
“I’ll make her pay for it, don’t worry.” Bryant raised his paddle to continue his monetary war with Alexis.
Alexis and Bryant traded bids until she finally turned around in a huff and let him have the Picasso. It was wheeled to the side, and then they auctioned off a few pieces that weren’t quite as valuable as the one he was taking home. Alexis didn’t look happy that she was forced to back off—she kept cutting her eyes over at us. I responded by leaning against Bryant—playing with his hair—letting my finger drift along the side of his neck and up to his ear. It might have been just for show, but I could sense his breathing getting heavier, and I could see the hairs standing on end when my finger caressed his ear. It was enough to get another icy glare from Alexis—and then I felt Bryant’s hand on my thigh—moving to the edge of my dress—teasing the inside of my thigh. Nobody could see what he was doing to me—it wasn’t just for show.
I may have started something I can’t finish—oh god, what was I thinking?
“There’s the bait I was waiting for.” Bryant pulled his hand away and leaned forward.
“The Rembrandt?” I looked at him in surprise. “I thought you didn’t want that one…”
“Alexis doesn’t know that.” He gave me a quick wink.
Bryant had explained that the Rembrandt was just a decoy—he expected people to bid high on that painting if they truly wanted it because they knew he would be raising his paddle in response. I noticed that a few high rollers—people that had the same clout as Bryant—start bidding immediately. Bryant let them cast a few bids, then entered the fray, which immediately drew the attention of Alexis Devereaux.
For a woman who wanted to marry a rich husband and take him for half of his net worth, she seemed to already have plenty of money to burn. I wasn’t an expert, but I had a pretty good idea what a Rembrandt would sell for, and they passed that figure quickly. Bryant studied Alexis while she bid against him, and when her paddle wavered, but still rose up to stop him from winning—he immediately backed off.
“Oh god…” I watched Alexis immediately go from confident to bewildered—and then she looked around the room like she was trying to find the nearest exit. “She didn’t expect to win.”
“No,” Bryant chuckled under his breath. “She was just running the price up—and she thought I would keep going until I won.”
“Now she has to actually pay for it.” I leaned back, and a smile spread across my face. “That’s genius.”
“Yep.” Bryant nodded. “Even if she wants to unload it, she’ll still take a hit—it’s not worth that much.”
“I think she’s officially done with this auction…” I watched as Alexis gathered her things and started walking towards the door.
“She’s probably going to call her accountant and figure out just how bad she got screwed.” Bryant grinned. “Serves her right.”
As soon as the bidding on the next painting started, Bryant’s hand returned to my thigh. There was no reason for it to be there. Alexis was gone—not that she could have seen it from where she was previously sitting anyway. I started to tingle from head to toe again when his hand moved along my inner thigh—his touch practically set me on fire. I could feel my panties getting wet—and the further he moved up my thigh, the wetter they got.
I finally had to push his hand away when my thighs were exposed, and I was afraid someone would actually notice. I didn’t really want him to stop, but I was terrified that someone would look over their shoulder and see his hand underneath my dress. I was blushing and quite flustered when I pulled my dress down, and if he had tried again—I don’t know that I would have been able to resist his touch.
“I’m going to bid on this one.” Bryant leaned forward and waited for Mr. Wellington to open the bidding.
I barely paid attention when the bids started. My wine glass was empty, and my throat was dry, but I didn’t think I could stand—I was afraid my knees would buckle. I had no idea what I would do when his hands found their way back to my body when we were alone. A war was being waged inside me—on one side was the understanding that anything between us was wrong. On the other side was a virgin with a very wet pair of panties that was craving his forbidden touch. Something that taboo shouldn’t have felt that good—it shouldn’t have been so confusing. I was no longer crushing on my best friend’s father—I was lusting after the hottest guy in Carson Cove—and I knew his desires mirrored my own.
How will I ever be able to look Victoria in the eyes again if I let this go any further? It’s already gone too far…
“This is the last piece.” Bryant motioned to the stage. “Then we go somewhere that doesn’t have an audience.”
Oh god…