Eye Candy

“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 strutting 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?”

“Oh, you know, the usual, quickie in the supply closet.”

Amie nearly spit-sprays her champagne all over me. “When did that happen?”

“About twenty minutes ago, give or take.”

“During the auction?” She pinches my arm. “You’re a jerk. I can’t believe you were getting your rocks off while I had to manage this.” She gestures to the empty stage.

“You should be thanking me, not punching me.”

“Thanking you for what?”

“You got to see a huge penis, didn’t you?”

Bane slips an arm around my waist from behind. “Talking about me again?”

I scoff. “This time we’re talking about your brother. Apparently he flashed the entire party.”

“It’s the night of indecent exposure, isn’t it?” His hand is on my hip, but it’s low, close to my butt without actually being an ass grab. “You ready to go up to the room soon?”

“In a bit. Amie needs help getting over being exposed to the Millses’ genetic monstrosity.”

Less than an hour later we’re in the elevator on the way up to the penthouse floor. Amie is three sheets to the wind, stumbling down the hall to her room. I’m in better form than she is, but not by much. I use Bancroft’s chest as a place to rest my head while he swipes the keycard and lets us into our room.

Once the door is open, he scoops me up and carries me inside. It makes me think about things like getting married. It’s a long way off, a hint of an idea, but if things continue the way they are, I imagine that it will be an eventuality. It makes me happy.

“What are you smiling about?” Bancroft kisses my neck, dropping down on the massive king-size poster bed.

“We’re lucky Lex and Amie are the only people who know what happened tonight.”

Bane lifts his head, his expression dark. “What do you mean Lex knows?”

“He caught me sneaking back to the supply closet.”

Bane’s eyes go wide and his grip on my hips tightens.

“Calm down, baby, he didn’t see anything. His ball flashing probably saved me from other people finding out, so we’ll just have to deal with the razzing.”

“With his antics tonight, I don’t think he has much of a right to razz. My father is not pleased.” He kicks off his shoes, pushes back on the mattress and pulls me on top of him. “Enough talk, I want to put that mouth to good use tonight, bring it here.” My dress rides up as I straddle his waist. He slides one wide palm along the side of my neck and pulls my mouth down, the other hand moving up the outside of my bare thigh. I brace myself on his chest and bend to kiss his chin, moving slowly to his lips.

“I’m guessing it’s going to take some work to fix your costume,” he says. Well, mostly it’s a groan.

I push back and run my fingers through his hair. “Probably. Are you disappointed?”

He shrugs. “I’m sure I’ll get over it.”

“Tomorrow night I could be Wonder Woman again, but tonight you’ll just have to take me as I am.”

He skims the contours of my lip, grinning. “I’m pretty sure I can handle that.”

Before he can monopolize my mouth with his tongue, I say, “I think we should start planning next year’s costumes early.”

His right eyebrow arches. “You want to throw another party after this shit show?”

“Maybe a private one. In our bedroom. You and me.”