3. Three
Three
Landon
The emcee announces the start of the auction, and I can’t take my eyes off Jasmine as she struts onto the stage. No one in the club can. Her confidence is magnetic.
She’s been teasing us pretty hard though, talking to us about winning her. So why the hell is she waving at other men? Why is she flaunting her cleavage at someone who’s not me? And when a heckler says he can’t wait to bend her over his knee, why does she turn her ass to the audience, lift her short skirt, and smack it?
My dick spurts a shot of pre-cum into my underwear. Great. She’s mischievous.
I tamp down the possessive anger boiling inside of me. I’ll be the one spanking her when this thing is over.
Her antics are just part of the game. She owns the spotlight, and my cock, which is already hard.
“Alright, boys,” she purrs into the mic, her voice dripping with naughtiness. “Who’s ready to find some mistletoe with me?”
The crowd erupts in cheers and whistles. Cole and I turn to Blake. He has a fascination with mistletoe, even has some hanging in our house which I find deeply disturbing since only the four of us guys are at our house. But I’ll camp out under it when we get Jamine home.
Jasmine parades across the stage, crooking her finger at a guy in the front row. “You think you can handle me, handsome? Want to start the bids?”
The emcee is going to be out of a job with her on stage. He plays along. “Go for it.”
The poor guy nearly falls out of his chair, scrambling to raise his paddle. “Fifty thousand!”
Poor fucker’s going to lose if he thinks five figures will be enough.
The bids fly fast and furious, and I keep my arm raised to outbid each poor soul who thinks he has a chance. One hundred thousand. Two. Three. Jasmine works the crowd like a pro, alternating between letting Jefferson, the auctioneer, do his thing, and teasing and flirting with every guy in the club.
My hands itch to spank her little ass for that. Then I get a better idea. She wants to play with them. Fine. I’ll watch. I set my paddle on the table as the bids skyrocket.
Blake and Cole ask why I stopped. We planned on dropping several million tonight and the bids are still in six figures. “Just having a little fun.”
Jasmine’s eyes stop on my discarded paddle. Her step falters.
Good. The little brat’s been teasing all of us. Until I can spank her ass, this will be her punishment.
Jasmine’s eyes raise to meet mine. She bites her lower lip, stealing the air from my lungs. I ball my fist to refrain from grabbing my bidder number.
“One million!” someone shouts from the back. Now we’re talking.
A flicker of confusion crosses Jasmine’s face before she regroups, catering to the newest bidder—a guy who had been flirting with one of the other waitresses-turned-auctionees. What’s his deal?
“Going… going…,” Jefferson announces.
I scramble to pick the bidder’s paddle up and knock it off the table in my haste. Fearing he’ll close the bid, I stand, raising my hand. “We’re still in. Two million.”
Jefferson says, “Looks like the charity’s going to do well tonight.”
The man lifts his number before Jefferson resumes the bid. I can’t blame him for being so drawn to Jasmine, but he’s in for a rude surprise if he thinks he can outbid me.
The bids escalate, everyone dropping out except for us and him. I’m sure I could take him on my own, but with the pooled resources of my friends, I’m not the least bit worried.
Jasmine doesn’t know that though. She stands closer to us, shaking her spankable ass a little more each time we take control of the bid. Her smile falters each time he gets it.
Is the asswipe not capable of taking a hint?
He finally wusses out at five million. I don’t care why.
The second we’re declared the winners, I jump on stage, grab Jasmine, sit on the edge, and spank her sassy ass.