Suddenly His - Jessa Kane Page 0,2

man pulls it open, his cold eyes sweeping over us, before he steps aside. “Good evening.”

“Who is that?” I whisper to Darlene as we step over the threshold.

“That’s Banks. He’s kind of a…lookout.”

“A lookout,” I murmur. Of course. Because this is completely illegal.

After that, all I can do is gape at the splendor in front of me. The interior is elegant, smelling lightly of cigars and cologne. The lights are low. Very low. But I can still make out the groups of men, the scattering of girls who look to be around my age or slightly older. They’re gathered around talking in the main room, although some of the men openly grope the girls. Hands fondle breasts, squeeze backsides, fingers trail up thighs, as if it’s completely normal.

There’s an odd tickle at the back of my neck and I turn, just in time to watch a figure sneak in the entrance behind us, but he’s gone before I can get a good look. Was he outside in the driveway the whole time? He couldn’t have arrived so quickly without us noticing.

“Come on,” Gina prompts, guiding me farther into the house. God, it’s incredible. Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves, exotic rugs that stretch across entire rooms, a domed, stained-glass ceiling that filters the moonlight and casts the room in dark, moody colors. “The bidding is going to start soon.”

Bidding?

“Oh.” My feet skid to a stop. “Is there somewhere I can sit that’s out of the way? Or—”

“Gentlemen! Please take your seats. Get comfortable.” The energy in the room changes immediately when a tall, fair-haired man in his sixties begins to speak. Even in the dark atmosphere, his black eyes are coldly brilliant. Evil. They send a chill down my spine. “And ladies…” His voice is significantly harder now. “You know the drill. Line up and look your best.”

Darlene shoos me away. “Go sit in the foyer—”

“No, no,” says the man with the cold eyes, bringing everyone to a standstill. “She stays.”

“Oh, no,” I breathe. “I’m not participating.”

He chuckles. “You just plan to watch, do you? Plenty of our members come to…observe. But I’m afraid that will cost you a hefty membership fee. Are you prepared to pay tonight?”

Something tells me the twenty dollars in my bank account isn’t going to cover it.

I shake my head.

“Then line up,” he says, smoothly, but there’s impatience twisting his mouth. “We’ve already got several members very interested in bidding on you.”

“Me?”

Again I start to protest, but Gina is suddenly whispering in my ear. “That is Winston freaking Creed, Maisy. He’s a very dangerous man, okay? You don’t argue with him. I’m sorry…I had no idea he would fixate on you like this—”

“Enough,” Winston snaps. “What is the issue? She could do a lot worse than the fine gentlemen in this room. Surely she isn’t a virgin or something.”

Having my sexual experience talked about so casually in front of a room of strangers is horrifying. Fire ants crawl up my neck. I beg for the power of invisibility and try to hide behind Gina. But apparently that is the exact wrong way to handle the question, because it sparks an alarming interest among the dozen or so men. They make low sounds in their seats, shifting to get a better look at me.

Even Winston seems caught off guard, his light eyebrows lifting to his hairline.

“Oh, she is a virgin.” He smiles wickedly. “Well. She’s definitely not leaving now.”

2

Jack

It’s almost eleven o’clock when my phone rings. I’m sitting in my bathtub with a cigar in my mouth, staring into the fireplace, finding it impossible to get my mind off…the girl.

Always the girl.

This obsession should have run its course by now. I’ve spent no time in her presence. She picked up her mother once and I glimpsed her through the upstairs window, the afternoon light turning her into a glowing sunbeam in her yellow dress, the line of her neck elegant, her voice a gentle lilt that haunts me. Somehow one glance was all it took for the infatuation to take hold. For me to rearrange finances and lose my ability to focus. Concentrate.

Yes, I might know my interest in the girl is ridiculous, but I can’t help but be annoyed at the interruption when I’m thinking of her. I almost ignore the call. If it wasn’t for the fact that I seldom receive them at this hour, I might have. But I sit up in the tub and glance over at the screen and my senses go on alert.

Kirk. The