Page 16 of Single Girl Rules: Auctioned

“Right? I mean…I obviously love his sculpted abs and his humungouscock. But now I’m kind of loving his brain too.”

“He probably just bought it from someone,” said Ghostie. “Orpaid someone to come up with it.”

“Maybe. But his sex auction runway combo is also the work ofa sexual genius. That makes me think he came up with both. And now I’m kind ofthinking that we should just do whatever it takes to get captured so we can seewhat he has planned for the auction tonight. I’m 100% sure it won’t be somebasic ass auction with a fast-talking dude and numbered paddles. Unless the paddlesare intended for sportive ass smacking.”

“He’s your enemy,” growled Ghostie. “The right-hand-man ofyour dad’s archnemesis.”

“Oh my God.” I put my hand to my chest. “Are you all thinkingwhat I’m thinking?”

“Probably not.”

“Yes, yes,” said Slavanka. “Banana king is to sexualinnovation what Comrade Lenin was to economic and political reform.”

“That is definitely not what I was thinking, but I like thatenergy.”

“What you think then?” asked Slavanka.

“I was thinking that the banana king and I are a modern-dayversion of Romeo and Juliet. But like…way hotter.” I was trying to work throughthe entire comparison in my head when the door at the end of the hall caught myeye.Magnus Kingwas etched into a gold name plate. “Oooh,” I said. “I thinkI just found the banana king’s office. I bet he locked Ash up in there after shegot all horny for that masseur.”

“Worth a try,” said Ghostie. “But be careful.”

“I’m always careful,” I said as I opened the office door andstrolled in.

“Painting of you?” asked Slavanka, pointing to a paintingfront and center on the wall right behind the banana king’s desk.

I honestly couldn’t tell. His office was so damned big thatthe painting was at least a good 30 feet away from us. But as I got closer, I realizedSlavanka was correct. It was an oil painting of me at the banana party bent overbetween the banana king and the Italian stallion. The artist had perfectlycaptured the raw sexuality of it.

“It’s amazing,” I said. “I wonder who the artist is.” I got closerand looked for a signature. I was half expecting it to say Michelangelo. Or daVinci. But that wouldn’t make any sense, because both those dudes had been deadfor centuries. This was signed…Magnus King.“Oh my God. He’s a paintertoo! See, Ghostie? I told you he was creative.”

“He create this too?” asked Slavanka.

I walked over to the scale model she was inspecting. It wasan entire community of Italian villas. The label indicated that it was going tobe located somewhere in Italy. I was a city girl and never pictured myselfliving in a neighborhood. But if I ever changed my mind, that was the neighborhoodI would want to live in. With a few adjustments, of course.

Like…why did he make all the villas separate? More spacebetween villas meant you were less likely to get caught getting railed on yourwrought iron balcony. And it would make swinging unnecessarily cumbersome. Noone wants to go to a key party and then have to drive 20 minutes home beforeyou can start having fun with your hot random neighbor.

The banana king may have been a creative genius, but he stillwasn’t on my level.

I grabbed the stack of papers next to the model to get allthe deets.

“Yikes,” I said after reading only about three of the papers.

“What?” asked Ghostie.

“I know why the Locatellis are trying so hard to kidnap me. Thoseidiots went all in on this neighborhood before they had all the permits lockeddown. And now their creditors are getting impatient. They could be bankrupt bythe end of the year.”

“Scan those documents so I can check them out later. But fornow, you need to get back to the roof deck. I’m pretty sure Ash is back. Butshe’s not alone.”

Chapter 6 – Cabana Banana

Sunday, Sept 22, 2013

I burst out onto the roof deck.

“Ash!?” I yelled.

She popped her out of from behind a cabana curtain. “Chastity!”

“Ash!” I yelled again. I ran over and hugged her.

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