Page 24 of Royal Hottie
Maybe not so sophisticated. The sexy pickup line works though. The women go wild. They’re out of their seats, hands in the air.
“Me-e-e!”
“I want to feel lucky!”
“You’re hot!”
He’s pointing at different women with an intense sexy expression, holding his hand to his heart like he felt the compliment deeply. Oh, he’s good, interacting with the audience.
Oscar smiles, and the women let out a soft swoony sigh in near unison. His eyes sparkle as he takes them in. “I love you, ladies! You’re fantastic, every last one of you, here for such a good cause!” He flashes a naughty grin and starts to unbutton his shirt.
Hooting and hollering erupts as he works his way down the buttons. Then with his shirt completely unbuttoned, he struts down the catwalk, the shirt playing peekaboo with defined pecs and rippling abs.
The crowd goes berserk! My ears ring from the high-pitched screaming.
Anna barks over the noise, “Let’s start the bidding! Can I hear one thousand?”
Oh, yeah. The bidding goes fast—one thousand, three, five, seven.
Oscar gets into it, lifting his arms and doing some hip gyrations that are sexy as fuck as he gazes into the eyes of whoever just bid the highest. The women are beside themselves. He knows how to work a crowd, that’s for sure. I can’t look away from the sexy display that’s somehow over-the-top and engaging at the same time. He’s inviting us in on the fun.
Bidding tops out at twelve thousand. Holy crap. Do these ladies know this is in euros? That’s actually more than twelve thousand in US dollars. Maybe money isn’t an issue for them. Anna did say they were all successful in their careers.
Another round of drinks circulates, the women chattering happily and laughing. I can’t fully enjoy the fun, thinking of Phillip up there soon, having women drooling over him, someone else winning a date with him. Jealousy is an ugly thing. I want to be above it.
Next up is Lucas with his sexy beard. Not to be outdone by his younger brothers, Lucas appears on stage wearing a blazer over his dress shirt, which he promptly sheds, swings in a circle over his head, and tosses out to the crowd.
A woman leaps out of her seat to grab it. “Five thousand!” she hollers, blazer clutched in hand.
Wow. Anna hasn’t even started the bidding yet.
Lucas gestures for the bidding to keep going, then makes a big show of unbuttoning his shirt, slowly undoing the top button. He stops, leans toward the crowd, and croons, “Should I keep going?”
“Yeah!”
“Take it all off!”
“Strip, strip, strip!”
Anna goes for it. “Do I hear six thousand?”
“Six thousand!” someone immediately puts in.
He slowly undoes the next button as more bids roll in. Then he struts down the catwalk, stopping a few times to give the grabbing hands of the women a squeeze. We’re all on our feet. I’m only standing because otherwise I couldn’t see a thing at my height. Okay, he’s insanely hot. Is it the beard? The sexy confidence? Who cares?
“Only two princes left in need of a date,” Anna says. “Who will be the lucky lady?”
Lucas returns to center stage, goes to the next button on his gaping shirt, and stops. “Want more?”
“Yes!” the women holler.
“Let’s hear twelve thousand,” he says with a grin.
“Twelve thousand! Yes!” a woman hollers.
He rips the shirt open, the buttons flying off. Sculpted tanned muscle from chest to abs. Whoa.
The bids instantly go up, up, up. Faster and faster, insane levels!
