Boy Toy Auction

by C. A. Harms

  “It would appear that our boy here has handed his balls over to a woman,” Terry adds, and I still choose to ignore him.

  I’ve never felt this dependent on another person’s touch before. It is like a pull so strong that it leaves me feeling that a vital part of my day is missing without it.

  “When you seeing her again?” It’s Spencer who asks. I shrug because honestly, I don’t know. We haven’t discussed it, but I know I want to see her again. Spence speaks up again. “From what I’ve heard, some guy is staying at one of her father’s hotels and her dad’s been pushing him on her.”

  “What guy?” I lean forward and rest my elbows on the table as I squeeze my beer bottle just a little tighter. The happy, blissful feeling is suddenly replaced with one of pure irritation.

  “Some big shot executive.” Spencer knows me better than most, which means the guy knows how to get a reaction out of me. “He is the perfect image of the man her father believes is made just for her.”

  “Her father’s a douche,” I say without hesitation. I haven’t brought this up to her, but anyone who has ever had a run in with Mr. Mansfield knows just how shady he is. The man has serious control issues; he feels he holds the power to manipulate anything and anyone in his path.

  “A rich as fuck douche,” Spencer adds. “Gianna told me that he does this shit to Emerson often.”

  I don’t have any say in what she does or who she spends her time with; I know this. But it sure doesn’t ease the irritation inside me knowing that she’s been spending time with another man. The longer I sit there in the bar, pretending not to care about where she is, or who she is with, the nastier my mood becomes.

  Nicholas: You’ve been quiet today.

  The moment I send the text I feel like the whipped bastard Terry just accused me of being. I put my phone back in my pocket and try to ignore the fact that minutes have passed with no response.

  I barely know her. We had one night together, well two, counting the one I was paid to share. The truth was, I would have done it for absolutely nothing but the pleasure of her company had we met under circumstances other than an auction.

  I leave the bar almost an hour later, and though I know I shouldn’t, I drive toward Emerson’s apartment, the opposite direction of my own. Call it stupidity, hell, call it fear and desperation, but I feel like I need to remind her of what we shared. Whatever sorry suit she’s been spending her time with needs to be wiped clean from her mind.

  I punch in the code she gave me only a couple of days ago and ride the elevator with so much nervous energy my legs bounce uncontrollably. Once it arrives on her floor, I waste no further time as I move toward her apartment.

  Moments after I knock, her door opens and I step inside as I grip the back of her neck and pull her lips to mine. I love the look of surprise and maybe even excitement on her face when I rush toward her.

  She’s wearing the tiniest little pair of shorts I’ve ever seen and a cropped t-shirt that hangs off one shoulder. The moment her chest firmly presses to mine there is no hiding the fact she’s not wearing a bra. The way the hardness of her nipples gently brush against the thin material of my shirt sends me into overdrive as I reach down and cup her ass. Lifting her from the floor as if she weighs nothing, I back her up to the wall and use the weight of my own body to hold her in place.

  With her legs hooked around my back, I have full access to push my cock against her and I don’t hesitate. “Nic,” she gasps, as she shifts herself against me; it’s just what I need to hear. The movement of her hips almost mimics the way she rode me only days before.

  “Your phone broken?” I ask as I kiss along the side of her neck and bite at the base of her throat. I know my ego being wounded by her lack of response is somewhat childish, but I don’t fucking care. I want to be the only man she thinks of, the one she wants to be with, not some jackass who will one day end up ignoring her once he got the things he wanted. She practically melts in my arms as I push my hips forward once more, grinding my cock against her as she moans into my mouth. “I’m here to remind you of how good I make you feel.”

  The words I’ve never had a woman make me feel so alive with just one touch ring in my mind. That’s the description she’d given to Gianna about how I made her feel, and it is precisely how I feel too. I only know because Spencer can’t keep his mouth shut. On most occasions, I hate how he always feels the need to share everything with us guys, but this was one thing I’m happy he told me.

  “I was busy with work,” she pants, and I feel my jaw twitch with the idea of just what she means by work. “It’s been a crazy, stressful couple of days.” More like daddy’s little prodigy was keeping her company and I don’t like that. Not one fucking bit.

  “How about I help you relax?” I slip my hand beneath her shirt and gently skim over her breast with my hand. The way her back arches only furthers my assault as I now hold her completely in my hand. Kneading and teasing her nipple, I tug just enough to make her gasp. “What do you say we break in that fancy kitchen table of yours?”

  I pull back just in time to see her eyes glaze over with interest, though she shakes her head in protest. Always trying to pull off the innocent act only makes me want to force her to be even more dirty. Something is empowering about getting her to fall off the ledge and go a little crazy with need. It is the best rush I’ve ever felt in my life.

  When I know I have a good grip on her, I begin walking toward her dining area and smirk when I see her bite her lip as she looks back over her shoulder. “When we’re through, you’ll never be able to sit at this table for a meal and not envision me buried deep inside you. You’ll hear our groans, you’ll feel your body grow hungry for me.”

  I half expect her to attempt to argue when I place her on the tabletop, but she doesn’t. Instead, she reaches for the hem of her shirt and lifts it over her head before tossing it to the floor behind me. “Do your worst, Mr. Vaughn.” Her lips purse in the sexiest fucking way when she looks up at me through her long eyelashes. “I need these dirty thoughts to get me through the most mundane days of stuffy executives and ass kissers.”

  I keep my eyes locked with hers as I carefully begin to remove her shorts. She lifts one hip then the other, making the task that much easier; I’m pleased to find she wears nothing beneath them.

  In that very moment, I felt like a complete sap as I look her over, thinking that she looks even more beautiful than she did the first night. I’m a man who generally seeks only pleasure and leaves all the feelings shit at the door. That stuff always got in the way of great sex. But with Emerson, something feels different as I find myself wanting to take the time to cherish every inch of her. Hell, I want to spend hours making sure she feels every possible desire I can offer. But then again, sex with her isn’t just great, it is fucking epic.

  Emerson

  I wake to a darkened room and roll to my side, fully intending to reach out and feel Nic lying there. But the only thing I find is an empty space. Instantly I feel disappointment. Then reality sets in and I wonder what it was I expected.

  The only reason we ended up sharing two, okay three now, of the most amazing nights was because I paid for his company. It was silly, really to think that we would ever be more than two people getting out some pent up desires and sexual tension. It was an easy solution, and I shouldn’t allow myself to believe that it could ever be more.

  Only my mind wouldn’t stop. The last two days I’ve been with Rodger and I’ll admit I expected him to be some stuck-up asshole, but he isn’t. He is kind and considerate, but he is no Nic. He is in shape, but nowhere near as fit as the man I’d touched over and over as we explored one another. Nic is hard in all the right places. I get this tingling sensation throughout my body whenever I close my eyes and imagine my hands roaming over his chest, stomach, hips, and…well, you get the point. His everything—that would be the easiest way to explain it.

  I shake my head to clear the thoughts racing through my mind and I curl into my c
overs tighter.

  Rodger is everything my father wants in a man for his daughter, with money and power to boot. Only he doesn’t make me feel as if I am beneath him, like the others. That was a common trait in all the other men my father attempted to push upon me. They treated me as more of the key to the riches and not so much a woman with needs and wants that don’t revolve around my father.

  Today Rodger and I spent the morning touring the hotel then had lunch on the balcony of his penthouse suite. He made me laugh and shared some of the stories of other facilities he’d visited for his upcoming project. But throughout the entire day, I found myself comparing him to Nic and I know that was wrong. I am only setting myself up for disappointment. Nic and I are nothing more than sex; it is something I need to accept.

  I know I need to stop this thing I have going on with him, but the moment he steps into a room, my body reacts without warning. I can’t stop myself; the lust inside me is ignited and it’s like I lose control of my ability to make conscious decisions. Every fiber of my body is lit on fire the moment he touches me. He doesn’t just make me feel each touch, he makes me own every need it triggers. Nic has me saying and doing things I never thought possible. It is like I become a completely different person with him; that inner vixen, the woman who had been clawing to get out for years, erupts.

  I’m still unsure if I like that person. She isn’t me; or is she the me I’m supposed to be?

  “Having you lead me around to all the local areas does make this trip very much worth it,” Rodger says as he stares at me from across the table. “The last location I was offered a tour guide who had ear hair.”

  “I do hope it was a male and not a female.” He gently winces and I can’t help but laugh. “She had more facial hair than I do.”

  “And I assume though the view was not the most appealing, you were still a perfect gentleman.” He doesn’t strike me as a guy who can be rude.

  “I did my very best,” he winks, and the feelings I get from that gesture are nothing compared to Nic. It irritates me that Nic affects me the way he does. I shouldn’t be thinking about him every moment of every day. I don’t even know the man, besides intimately. There are rarely words exchanged whenever we are together.

  “I thought that maybe we could skip the business side of things tonight.” I am brought out of my Nic fog by Rodger’s voice. “I like your company, Emerson. I am hoping it would be possible for me to take you to dinner and a show this evening.”

  I stare at him, waiting for the tinge of excitement to hit me. That point at which I feel giddy inside at the thought of spending more time with him. I want that rush. I want that flipping in my stomach, the need for his company…only it doesn’t come.

  “Your father sent over two tickets for The Sound of Music.” Of course he did. “I’m hoping that you’ll join me.” And so was my father, I wanted to say. Hector Mansfield is so predictable. He plays this sorry pattern every damn time. Then if I say no, I’ll hear all about it later. These were the times I regretted the position I held. I regretted my choice to follow behind my father and accept the roles he’s given me. Because with the power came obligations, and none of them were truly in my favor.

  There was a time when I admired my father, when I looked at him as a powerful and successful man who led a room so easily without even speaking a word. Now that I am older, wiser, and have seen first-hand how conniving he can be, all that has changed. I was living every day in regret for the decisions I’d made.

  “Maybe dinner at the Spiaggia before the show?” I find myself nodding though I want to decline. “That’s great. Shall I pick you up?”

  “No.” I say it too quickly and do my best to recover. “I have things to do at the office. I’ll just meet you in the lobby.”

  “How’s six?”

  “Perfect.” My chest feels tight as I force a smile.

  Why can’t I find my backbone? Why can’t I stand up to my father and tell him that I’m an adult and can damn well choose who I want to spend time with on my own? I know, though, that he’d never approve because it wouldn’t be someone he’s selected himself. It would be a never-ending battle.

  Rodger and I say our goodbyes before I leave the hotel and instead of going to my office, I feel like I need some air.

  I walk along Lake Michigan as the breeze blows off the water. I’ve always loved the coolness gained from it even though the weather may be warm outside. I enjoy watching the younger couples walk hand in hand along Navy Pier, doing something as little as sharing a hot dog or a cotton candy. It all seems so simple and a huge part of me wants just that. I want to laugh without feeling as if I’m being judged. I want to sit around and watch movies in a theater versus a stuffy opera or musical that I don’t even understand. I want a messy loaded burger with a heaping amount of chili cheese fries instead of fancy tasteless food. And I want my father to be okay with all of that.

  I hear a woman’s loud squeal followed by her laughter and I pause along the walkway as I look down at the beach below. There’s a guy who has a younger woman tossed up over his shoulder as he carries her along the sand, close to the water. Her arms and legs are kicking and moving about, but I can see she loves it.

  I want that too.

  I want a man I feel so comfortable with that there is no fear of being judged. I don’t only want a man who blows me away in the bedroom, but one who warms my heart and isn’t afraid to be a kid right alongside me. I want a lover and a best friend. I know I won’t find that in any of the men my father pushes on me. They’re all entirely too worried about getting their suits dirty or a hair out of place. They know my father’s expectations because they all carry the same ones. Family and love are always second place to money.

  I reach inside my bag and dial Gianna’s number only to hear her answer with a laugh. “Hey hot stuff, how are you?”

  “Are you busy?” I can almost envision a big smile on her face. She’s such a beautiful person both inside and out.

  “I’m meeting Spencer for lunch,” she says, and I hear his muffled words in the background though I can’t quite understand them. “He says to tell you hi."

  I remember the man from the auction, the one she went to battle for against a girl I assumed he at one time had some connection with. It would seem Spencer and Gianna have hit it off because they are now always together.

  “What’s going on?”

  “I’m just calling to see what you're up to.” I try to hide the discouraged feelings from only moments ago. “We can talk later.”

  “No, we can talk now,” she corrects me. “You called for a reason and I’m here. I’m listening, what’s on your mind?” She is the one person who is always able to drag the truth out of me, no matter how hard I attempt to hide it.

  “I could use one of your pep talks right now.”

  “Which one?” she asks. “The one where I tell you that you’re bright and beautiful, that you deserve so much more than you allow yourself? Or maybe the one where I tell you that you need to stand up for yourself and go after what Emerson wants for a change and not what her father wants.”

  I lean forward and rest my forearms on the railing along the walkway. Holding my phone in my hand, I look down at the screen and see the contact picture I have set for her of Gianna smiling brightly looking back at me.

  “Rodger’s nice,” I say, and she remains silent. “He’s not as stiff and unapproachable as the last few guys.”

  “Does he make your heart race?” I close my eyes and hang my head the second the question leaves her mouth. “Do you get excited when you know that you’re about to see him? Does just the thought of him make you smile so big your cheeks ache?”

  Again, we’re both silent. I think over Gia's questions, and know there’s no point in answering them because she already knows the answers.

  “Call Nic,” she adds, and I instantly look back at my phone almost as if I could see her instead of the photograph it held. “I sat on the phone with you just the other
day for over an hour and listened to how excited you were over a guy. I don’t remember the last time that happened with you, Em. High school maybe, when we were both so young and oblivious to the world.”

  “It was just sex with him.”

  “Was it?” she asks. “You’re the one that has to decide if you want a relationship of means or one with a man that with the simplest whisper of your name can melt the panties right off you.”

  “It’s not all about sex, a relationship is more than just physical.” I’m not sure at this point if I’m trying to convince her or myself. I guess I don’t know what a relationship consists of. I grew up watching my parents share more of a business partnership than a love-filled marriage. I don’t have anything to guide me.

  “A relationship isn’t all about sex, Em, I know this. But you have to admit, lying next to a man every night that you aren’t attracted to would make for a very boring life. Believe me, I know first-hand what a struggle that is. The physical attraction is where it all begins and I think we can safely say that you and Nic have that connection. I think you owe it to yourself to see where it leads the two of you.”

  “So far the only place it’s led us is to my apartment, to my bed, my kitchen table, and against the wall.”

  “Wait,” she says with curiosity, “I didn’t hear about the kitchen table.”

  “Later,” I say with a smile, because when I think of him, I can’t seem to help it.

  “I’m gonna hold you to that.” And I knew she would. “But for now, you have a choice to make. You can continue with the life you’re living, the one where you’re following all your dad’s rules and guidelines, or you can let go of it all. You can give him an ultimatum, you work for him, but your personal life is your own. It’s not fair how he continues to lead your choices. It’s time you live your own life, Em. Just call the guy,” she adds, and again I feel the flutter of excitement in my stomach.