Page 17 of Auctioned to the Billionaire Surgeon

It didn’t, but I wasn’t going to tell him that.

Nico kept talking. “I’d actually planned to bring you up here tonight anyway. There’s a hostess I’d like you to meet. And I made sure we were here in time for Abbi and Madeline’s sets.”

I didn’t want to admit that I was clueless as to who Madeline was and hadn’t known who Abbi was until he’d pointed her out to me. I thought all the strippers at Sugar were hot, but I usually spent all my time in Cayenne. I’d been in the VIP rooms at Sugar a few times to get sucked off, but I didn’t even remember which of the women I’d been with.

“I really do have something to go over with you.”

He cocked an eyebrow.“So tell me why you wanted to come to Sugar,” He said as we sat down and made ourselves comfortable at the premier table.

“I had something to run past you.”

“Ah. Okay.” He waved at a group of men.“Hold that thought. I’ve got to go talk to these guys. They’re new members, and I want to make sure everything is living up to their expectations.”

He was always leaving me, it seemed. But I understood this was his livelihood. It’s not like I’d leave a patient waitingaround at the hospital so I could hang out with a friend.

“Don’t worry,” he said over his shoulder, “I requested Jelly. She’ll take care of you.”

“Jelly?” I asked, confused. But he’d already walked away.

I moved seats so I could see both the bar and the main stage. Abbi was dancing now. That’s all I could call it. The way she moved felt like art, not like something raunchy. She moved like a ballet dancer. She was a beautiful woman with an amazing body and the prettiest hair I’d ever seen. And while she was naked except for a thong, she held herself with a grace and elegance that made her seem different from any other stripper I’d ever watched. She was performing her set to sexy French jazz music, and I found myself getting lost in her routine.

Maybe that’s how the hostess snuck up on me.

“Can I get you something to drink?”

I looked up with a smile, ready to greet whatever beautiful woman stood in front of me. All of the hostesses at Sugar were beautiful.

But I froze when I saw this one. She was… incredible. She was medium height, but with her heels she seemed taller than that. Her legs were incredibly long and shapely. Her ass wasn’t large, but it was plump and heart shaped. I could imagine holding her there while I drove into her from behind. Her waist was very small, and I ached to have my hands there. And then there were her breasts. My mouth watered looking at them. They weren’t as big as I normally liked. They were probably only a D cup, maybe even just a full C cup, but they were perfect. Her tight corset top pushed them up into the most perfectly rounded mounds I’d ever seen. Some of the hostesses looked almost obscene, their large breasts were hiked up so much. That had never bothered me a bit before, but now that I had seen this gorgeous creature nothing compared to her.

I could picture it; her standing between my legs, my hands squeezing that tiny waist, her breasts close to my face. It would be incomparable; heavenly…

“Sir?”

My eyes shot up from her body and looked at her face.

And I gasped. I literally gasped. It felt like a cliché to say she was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen.

But shewasthe most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. She had smooth, ivory skin, a long, elegant neck, full red lips, jet-black hair that reached half-way down her back, luminous crystal blue eyes, and a poise and refinement that belied the fact she was a hostess in a strip club.

I couldn’t speak.

“Are you… okay?” She looked concerned.

“Yes. I’m… I’m fine. Sorry.” I cleared my throat.“I haven’t seen you before. I’m Paolo Lanetti.”

I instantly wished I hadn’t said my last name. Most people, especially if they were originally from West Bay, knew the name and associated it with my father. But she just looked at me with a bemused smile.

Her eyes twinkled with intelligence and good humor.“Nice to meet you, Mr. Lanetti. I’m Jelly.” She leaned in and lowered her voice,“But if you see Carmen around, you have to call me Ray Ann.”

“Jelly,” I breathed as if it was an incredibly lovely name instead of… well, weird.“Please. Call me Paolo.”

“Alright.” She smiled at me, and I couldn’t help but notice that she seemed as taken with me as I was with her.“Paolo, can I get you something from the bar? It’s just after last call, but since you’re with Nico it won’t be a problem.”

“Yes, please. Can I get a whiskey?”

“Sure. Would you like American whiskey or Scottish whisky? We have Jim Beam or Macallan.”

“Jim Beam is fine.” Living in the South had given me a taste for American bourbon whiskey instead of the luxury brands like Macallan.