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Auction Night

A Stewart Realty Extra Scene
All rights reserved
Liz Crowe  

“Come on,” Sara said, tugging at Jack’s hand.  “You need to do this. You know it’s for a good cause.”

He rolled his eyes and let her pull him into the shop where the tailor waited with his new tuxedo. She sat in one of the leather chairs and watched while her fiancé got a final fitting for the jet black suit. She grinned and crossed her legs, mentally high-fiving herself. The sunlight caught the diamond on her left ring finger and she allowed herself a minute to admire it, before berating herself for being so completely craven.

She looked up then and caught Jack’s eye. He raised an eyebrow at her and gave a nearly imperceptible nod. She smiled and leaned back in the chair, uncrossed her legs and propped her feet in the super high heels that he liked so much. He held up his arms and let the tailor pinch and fuss over the jacket. A tingle shot down her spine at the sight. Her man. Jack Gordon. Of all men on the planet—who would have guessed?

She shifted in her seat and re-crossed her legs while he watched, his deep blue eyes darkening. Unable to stop herself, she put her fingertip to her lips then touched the tops of her breasts. A corner of his lips lifted in a knowing smirk. While part of her resented that knowing asshole-ish look, the other part could see herself leaping at him, tackling him, ripping off that tailor-made tuxedo and straddling him. She swallowed hard. His grinned widened.

The tailor kept fussing around him, messing with the hem on the trousers, the cut of the jacket. At one point he called out for an assistant who appeared holding a couple of bright, white shirts. Sara watched, feeling woozy, drunk, and horny. She stretched her arms out in front of her and admired the obnoxious diamond again. She was positively buzzing with anticipation.

Finally, Jack emerged from the dressing room, finger hooked through a few hangers.
“Let’s go get something to eat before I have to parade around like a piece of meat.” He held out an elbow and she slipped her arm through it.

“Oh don’t you dare lie. You love the thought of being a piece of meat.”

He shot her a strange look. She grinned and pecked him on the lips, relishing his discomfort.  
“Nah, not anymore,” he insisted as he led her out into the darkening Ann Arbor night. “But I am hungry and can’t strut my stuff without some sustenance.”

They ended up at Café Felix, sitting at a sidewalk table over a bottle of Argentinian red wine and a steak.

“You know, I don’t want to do this,” Jack insisted, cutting a piece and putting it to her lips. “I feel like it makes you unhappy.”

“Don’t be silly, Jack,” she said, taking the morsel, chewing, swallowing and sipping her wine. “It’s a great cause. Lots of married men are participating. You're barely engaged.” She flashed her left hand at him. He winced, and ate a few bites of the steak.

He put the utensils down, grabbed her hand and pulled it to his lips. She leaned forward, loving the utter perfection of this moment.

“I love you, Sara Jane,” he said, running his fingers down her wrist and up her arm to her shoulder. “I don’t want to do this. It’s … not fair or something.”

She chuckled. “You’re such a liar Jack Gordon. You can’t wait to get up there and strut your shit. I have it on best authority that you have a bet with Rob that you’ll get more money than he will—and I will tell you right now, that man is something blond and hot. Just ask my brother.”

Jack laughed and let go of her, tucking back in to the meal with gusto. Sara watched, sipping, while her man ate his steak. After a few minutes, he’d paid the check and they were on their way to the Michigan Theater for the man auction fund raiser.

She gave him a non committal kiss and shoved him toward the back rooms so he could change. He stopped her, grabbing her hand in the middle of the increasing crowd. “I won’t do this, if you don’t like it.”

“Don’t be silly. I have no reason to not like it.” She let her gaze travel down his torso and back up again. He blinked, then grinned.

“God damn I knew I loved you for a reason.”

Just then Rob passed them and smacked Sara on the ass, making her yelp.

“Let’s go Gordon,” he said, grabbing Jack’s arm. “Time for you to see how a real man raises money for Foodgatherers.” He had his own tuxedo over his shoulder. 

Jack stood, seemingly frozen with indecision. Rob let him wait, then winked at Sara before tugging him away into the back rooms.

She chatted with a few friends then found a seat in the dark, wanting to experience this little show all by herself. A glass of champagne set her at ease but her nerves were humming still as the lights dimmed and the auctioneer got the crowd fired up with a funny bit about “man flesh” and “good causes.”

She grinned and watched the other men parade around, looking awkward and uncomfortable. Finally, the lights dimmed and single spotlight hit the middle of the stage. The music switched from cheesy burlesque to Frank Sinatra crooning “I Get a Kick Out of You.”

“And now, ladies, I give you the auction lot you’ve been waiting for,” the auctioneer bleated into the microphone. Sara grinned and sunk lower into her seat, twisting the ring around her finger.

“The one, the only….Mister John Patrick Gordon!” 

The crowd squealed, the spotlight flared bright, and Jack’s silhouette appeared, hands tucked into his pockets. Sara’s face flushed hot, noting the flurry of auction paddles that shot up. The auction house flunkies scrambled up and down the aisles, trying to keep up with the bidding.

Old Blue Eyes kept crooning, nearly deafening the crowd. Sara sat still, watching the bids climb. Rob had gone just before Jack and had taken nearly $9000 to the extreme chagrin of Sara’s brother via text. The auctioneer kept calling out numbers.

Two thousand.
Six and a half.
The music changed then. The bass line thumped through her chest and she watched as a bunch of clamoring women bid on a date with her fiancé. She watched while Jack strutted his stuff around the stage like a pro, smiling and winking, slipping off his jacket and unbuttoning his shirt. The crowd ramped up, and the bid hit eight thousand dollars.  

Sara rose to her feet and raised her paddle, nodding to one of the auction assistants.
The lyrics hit her hard and she bit her lip, pondering how very foolish she might be at this moment, trusting the man on the stage right now, whose very presence had worked this room up to such a ridiculous frenzy. She hesitated a second, listening…

I done been around the world
I done kissed a lot of girls
So I'm guessin' that it's true
Make me holla and I bet a million dollars
Don't nobody kiss it like you….

At that moment, Jack looked right at her, as if he knew exactly where she’d be sitting, apart from the crowd, just taking it all in. He smiled and hooked his finger his jacket over his shoulder and stared. She grinned and whispered to the auction helper.

She hurried out, settled her winning bid and snagged another glass of champagne. After about thirty minutes of socializing she ducked into the back hallway near the bathrooms. Every inch of her skin tingled. She nodded at a few guys she knew who’d been part of the auction, but was on a mission towards the very back room, a small one, at the end of the long hallway. She could hear him, he was laughing, then he was flirting, she could sense his change of cadence and tone.

She sucked back the rest of her booze and set the empty glass on a passing tray. Tugging her skirt down and taking a deep breath, she stepped behind an open door, into a room stacked with speakers and miscellaneous crap. Her ears were ringing from the music and yelling over the final bidding war. She leaned on a stack of something, reminding herself that she won, period. But the bright light of jealousy was slowly but surely blinding her. Could she do this? Be married to a man that so many women wanted, and were willing to pay cold hard cash for…just a damn date?

Sweat dripped down her back. She wished she’d taken the time to change into something sexier than her work skirt and blouse. She wished she’d never said “fine” to the question “Hey, honey can I get my fine ass auctioned off for charity?” She waved her hand in front of her face, trying not to hyperventilate.

Finally, after what felt like an hour, a figure appeared in the doorway. It leaned there, silent. She watched, unable to form words.

“I love you,” she said, finally, at the same time he said, “You seriously spent how much?”

They came together in a tangle of lips, teeth and clothing. She reached down to unzip him just as he yanked her blouse open to cup her breast. The urgency made her want to cry. He tasted so good, felt so perfect, touched her in all the right places.

He made a low, growling sound as he ripped her panties off and plunged his fingers between her legs even as he lifted her up so she was sitting on a speaker.

“Jack,” she gasped as he leaned down to tug her nipple into his mouth. “Wait.” She tugged his face up to meet hers. His blue eyes twinkled in the half light thrown from the hallway.

“Why? You paid ten grand for this. I’d better get to work.” He kissed her then, and teased her with his fingers until she cried out and clutched at him.

“Jesus,” she gasped, staring up at the darkened ceiling and acknowledging that the noises outside the closet were dying down. “Honey, let’s…go…”

She slid down off the speaker, keeping her lips on his neck, unable to stop kissing him. All she knew was him then, his smell, his taste, his sound.

“Turn around,” he whispered. “Put your hands on the wall.”

He threaded his fingers in her hair and leaned over her back as he slid into her. She arched her back, sighing with satisfaction at their connection, shuddering when he reached around to cup her breasts and tug her nipples. He came fast, groaning too loud but she didn’t care at that point.

He slipped out and pulled her up, turning her around and kissing her until she got dizzy. He put a hand alongside her cheek and grinned. Then reached down to zip himself back up and help her get her skirt down and her blouse pulled back together. He held her close for a minute. His heartbeat pounded through her, calming hers, even as she worried that they’d just acted like horny teenagers at a grown up event.

“Well, Mizz Thornton,” he said. She pressed her lips to his neck as he spoke. “Will that do?”

She laughed, and grabbed his hair, going up on her tiptoes in her high heeled shoes to bite his lower lip. “Not even close,” she whispered, cupping his ass. “Mine.” She sighed into his chest. He held her close, making her feel loved and protected, which made her feel suspicious. 

Oh get over yourself Sara. You just spent a solid commission on this man. Enjoy it.

“Good,” Jack said, sliding his hand up her skirt and touching the edge of her bare sex. “I don’t feel like I’ve given you your money’s worth…yet.”

“Feed me first. You ate all the damn steak,” she said, before biting his earlobe. “And find my panties, unless you wanna leave ‘em in this closet.”

“My command,” Jack said as he fished around on the floor and emerged with a black scrap of silk dangling from his finger. She snagged them and they giggled their way to the closed door.

“Holy shit,” he said, shielding his eyes. Sara blinked, then smiled and waved at the crowd of people hanging around the hallway, cheering. 

“And that, ladies and gents,” Jack said, not embarrassed in the slightest by the fact that the entire damn hallway full of people knew what they’d been doing just now. “Is how you raise money in this town.” He yanked her close, bent her back for a public, yet very private kiss.

Later, over a bourbon and decent filet at the Chop House, he leaned across the table and touched her lips as she ate. Sara tried not to be mesmerized by his blue eyes but gave up, figuring she might as well, since they were supposed to get married. The heft of the ring on her left hand suddenly made her feel weighed down and somehow stressed out.

“You’re okay, right,” he asked, as he picked up his half empty glass.

“Sure,” she said, reaching for the knife to cut another piece of steak. He grabbed her hand, uncurled her fingers and took the utensil.

“You paid for a service. Allow me to provide it.” He grinned and his blue gaze darkened. 

She tilted her head and watched as he cut the meat then held it up to her lips. She took it, chewed the rich morsel and swallowed. His foot pressed between hers, forcing them apart. His hand slid up her bare thigh, making her shiver. “You owe me, Gordon,” she said as he leaned over to kiss her.

“Well hell, baby, I’d guess so. I’m not sure I’d ever spend ten grand on pussy…so I’ll take it as the ultimate compliment.”

“You’re such a huge pig,” she sighed into his lips, sensing herself melt into him. “I don’t know that you’re worth it…yet.”

“Yep,” he said, reaching around to cup the back of her neck. “I’m a pig. But I’ll earn every…” he pecked her cheek… “Single…” he slid his lips down her neck, keeping one hand on her neck, the other sliding up her leg. “Penny.”

                        The End.

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  1. Melissa Keir  

    Wow.. I understand the jealousy but that's a lot of money. I'm not sure I could have come up with that money!

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