Page 82 of Soul Mates: Hercules Valentine and I

“Call me Hercules,” I told her for the millionth time.

Even then, she clamped her lips shut, refusing to do it. That Lake is a strange one. But she has a huge crush on Mason. I tease him about it sometimes. For the longest time, he thought she was too crazy to date. Only recently has he started really paying attention to her, describing her as cute and feisty. I'm shocked we’re here. Art and I mix, but art and Mason don't.

Outside, Lark and I locked eyes. I make her nervous. But she makes me nervous too. Close-up, under the warm lighting of this room, she looks even sexier than she did outside. I don’t know what to do about how she turns me on.

Mason lengthens his neck to get a better look at the mural that’s collected the most viewers. “Are those nipples?”

Lake pats Lark on the shoulder. “LC’s friend’s perfect perky nipples.”

The crotch of my pants just got tighter. I see them—perfectly curved and the tip pointy, just right for sucking.

Mason tries not to stare at Lark’s chest. Her face has turned red. She elbows Lake’s arm. “Cut it out,” Lark whispers.

Lake, or Betty, laughs.

I grow an erection as I imagine those nipples and Lark’s cleavage in my mouth.I should move away from her for a while.

“Excuse me.” I take a step back, away from the three of them.

If I stick around any longer, I’m going to burst. There are other beautiful women here tonight, but she’s the only one I want to ram my cock inside of. I usually have more control over my desires than this.There’s something about her. What the hell is it?

“Oh, and, Mr. Valentine, feel free to bid on any of the pieces,” Lake calls, and I turn around, trying to focus only on her. Lake is tapping her earpiece. “Anyone who’s wearing these can help you.”

I accidentally glance at Lark, who’s watching me with longing.Why does she look at me that way?I can’t handle it. I lift my thumb up and walk away as fast as I can.I need a drink.

I spotthe bar on the opposite side of the crowded room. There’s enough distance between me and Lark to let me get my bearings. But first, I stop a girl who’s wearing a headpiece and tell her I’d like to bid on a painting, the one with the ones and zeros.

“Oh, the friendship piece. You know, the price is really high. But you’re…” Her eyes grow wide. “You’re Hercules Valentine.”

I really do loathe being recognized in circles like this. The recognition is not about me—it’s about the money my family has. “How much?” I ask.

Lips pressed together, she checks her tablet. “Wow. It’s up to three hundred thousand. This can’t be real.”

“Sorry, I never caught your name,” I say.

Her mouth falls open. “You never caught my name?”

“No. What’s your name?”

Her hand passes over her red cheeks. “Clemson, but you can call me Clem like everyone else. Clem.”

“Clem, I’m going to need you to get me that painting. I’ll bid ten thousand more than the highest bid until it’s mine, got it?”

“Um…” She looks confused.

“There’s five thousand in it for you.”

After a beat, she nods. “But I can’t take your money, Mr. Valentine. At least, not that way.” She starts tapping her screen. “I’ll receive a commission if my bidder wins.” She looks up, grinning. “And it’s going to be a lot more than five thousand dollars.”

I chuckle. It’s good to know it was the money, not me, that had her out of sorts.

Paisley Grove

“What?” I say to Mandy, the girl who processes my bid.

“Yeah, it’s up four hundred thousand. And if you put in a bid, it’ll go higher,” she says.

“Who…?” I start. “Never mind.”