whose gazes stroke over his body be

whose gazes stroke over his body before zoning in on his face. Possessiveness stirs inside me, along with desire. I touch his chest, and he immediately leans closer. “I think you look amazing.”
His mouth quirks up on one side. “Good enough for me. Can we go look at the auction pieces?”
I grin at his eagerness. I was hoping that this experience would make him more willing to contribute pieces of his own in the future, because it’s a great opportunity for him to get his work seen by a lot of people. “Sure.”
I take his arm and we follow signs to the auction space, which is apparently in the gallery room. Caleb stiffens as we approach, and I follow the line of his gaze and see Claudia standing at the arched entrance to the room, with a man I assume is her husband. Her highlighted blond hair is in an immaculate updo, and her diamond earrings shimmer in the light. When she spots Caleb, her eyes flash with a hunger that makes me tense. Caleb puts his hand over mine, holding my fingers to his arm as we reach the couple.
“Caleb, it’s such a treat to see you here,” says Claudia, ignoring me completely. “I was wondering if you’d come.”
“Romy works at Sojourner House,” he replies. “She invited me.”
The lines around Claudia’s mouth deepen for a moment. “Well, you didn’t need to use her ticket. You have every right to be here on your own.”
“I know,” he says, making me blink at him in confusion. “But we decided to come together.” He gives her a charming smile as he emphasizes that last word.
Her gaze rakes over the tattoo on my arm, and she smirks. “Lovely. Good luck tonight.”
I glance up at him as he thanks her. What the hell does that mean? Does she think he’s actually got enough money to bid on something? Bizarre.
“I’m Romy Foerster,” I say to her husband, seeing as Claudia’s clearly not going to introduce us. He’s a bald, bull of a man, with a pitted round nose and a friendly smile.
“Melvin Dexter. So glad you could come.” He slaps Caleb’s shoulder as we pass. “And I’m excited to see what happens,” he says to Caleb, who looks pretty damn excited himself.
I pull Caleb aside as soon as we’re in the gallery room, where the auction pieces are lined up for display along one wall, with chairs set up in rows before them. There’s a podium at the front of the room, where the auctioneer will preside. People are milling around in front of the auction items, holding numbered paddles, drinks in their other hands. “Can you please translate what just happened? Is she after you again?”
He shrugs. “I told her I’d be happy to accept a commission at any time, as long as it was just for a painting.”
I squeeze his arm. “And?”
He gives me a resigned smile. “I haven’t heard from her.”
My heart aches for him. “Someday, Caleb, people are going to recognize how talented you are.”
“It means a lot to know that you believe that,” he says quietly. A smile playing at the corners of his mouth, Caleb takes my hand from his arm and holds it between both of his. “I wanted this to be a surprise. Come on.”
He leads me up the aisle and tugs me to the right when we reach the front. His hand is trembling. He stops at a spot where a small knot of people have gathered. Gently, he takes my shoulders and guides me in front of him. “I’m wondering if you see anything you recognize.”
As my eyes scan the paintings and sculptures, a few people move aside, and my breath catches as I see the large canvas, prominently displayed. It’s a painting, done with palette knife and oils, a style I recognize as easily as if it were my own. Black squares, threaded with yellow and red, layer upon layer of darkness. But in the center, where there used to be a red, raw gash, an open wound, now there is light. Brilliant white, yellow, pearlescent pink, bubbling up from the darkness, bold and strong. The light squares knit together the darkness, and the very center is still tender, more pink than white, like scar tissue. The edges of the painting are smaller squares of light, like it’s gradually chipping away at the deep darkness. A work in progress. I blink away tears. “It’s your painting,” I say, unable to conceal the rasp of emotion in my voice. Caleb’s arms wind around me, and he speaks in my ear. “It’s what you’ve done to me.”
My throat is so tight I can barely speak, so I simply squeeze his hands, pressing them hard against my ribs. I can’t handle this. It’s so much that I’m going to start sobbing if I don’t get away. Mascara’s going to run down my cheeks. It won’t be pretty. “I need to go to the ladies’ room. I’ll be back.”
He lets me go as soon as he feels me trying to get loose. I lower my head and clumsily brush my lips over his wrist, the only way I can communicate that it’s okay, that it’s not him.
It is, though. It’s him, only him.
If I stay here another moment, I’m going to tell him that I’ve fallen in love with him, and that’s crazy. Wobbling on my high heels, I move toward the side exit, which I’m hoping leads to a bathroom.

Hasil (Bahasa Indonesia) 1:

stroke yang memandang ke atas tubuhnya sebelum zonasi di wajahnya. Sikap posesif bergerak di dalam diriku, bersama dengan keinginan. Aku menyentuh dadanya, dan ia segera bersandar lebih dekat. "Saya pikir Anda tampak luar biasa."Mulut Nya quirks up di satu sisi. "Cukup baik bagi saya. Kita bisa pergi melihat potongan-potongan lelang?"Aku sanggup di keinginan. Aku berharap bahwa pengalaman ini akan membuatnya lebih bersedia untuk berkontribusi potongan sendiri di masa depan, karena itu adalah kesempatan besar bagi dia untuk mendapatkan pekerjaan-Nya yang dilihat oleh banyak orang. "Pasti."Aku mengambil lengannya dan kami ikuti rambu ke ruang lelang, yang ternyata di gallery room. Kaleb menegang seperti kita mendekati, dan saya mengikuti garis dengan tatapan dan melihat Claudia berdiri di pintu masuk yang melengkung ke kamar, dengan seorang pria yang saya asumsikan adalah suaminya. Rambut pirang disorot di updo rapi, dan nya anting-anting Berlian kilau cahaya. Ketika dia bintik-bintik Kaleb, matanya flash dengan kelaparan yang membuat saya tegang. Kaleb menempatkan tangannya atas tambang, memegang jari-jari saya untuk lengan seperti kita mencapai pasangan."Kaleb, it's a memperlakukan untuk melihat Anda di sini," kata Claudia, mengabaikan saya benar-benar. "I was wondering jika Anda akan datang.""Romy bekerja di rumah Asing," Dia menjawab. "Ia mengundang saya."Garis di sekitar mulut Claudia memperdalam sejenak. "Yah, Anda tidak perlu menggunakan tiket nya. Anda memiliki hak untuk berada di sini pada Anda sendiri.""Aku tahu," katanya, membuat saya berkedip dia dalam kebingungan. "Tapi kami memutuskan untuk datang bersama-sama." Dia memberinya senyum menawan seperti dia menekankan bahwa kata terakhir.Her gaze rakes over the tattoo on my arm, and she smirks. “Lovely. Good luck tonight.”I glance up at him as he thanks her. What the hell does that mean? Does she think he’s actually got enough money to bid on something? Bizarre.“I’m Romy Foerster,” I say to her husband, seeing as Claudia’s clearly not going to introduce us. He’s a bald, bull of a man, with a pitted round nose and a friendly smile.“Melvin Dexter. So glad you could come.” He slaps Caleb’s shoulder as we pass. “And I’m excited to see what happens,” he says to Caleb, who looks pretty damn excited himself.I pull Caleb aside as soon as we’re in the gallery room, where the auction pieces are lined up for display along one wall, with chairs set up in rows before them. There’s a podium at the front of the room, where the auctioneer will preside. People are milling around in front of the auction items, holding numbered paddles, drinks in their other hands. “Can you please translate what just happened? Is she after you again?”He shrugs. “I told her I’d be happy to accept a commission at any time, as long as it was just for a painting.”I squeeze his arm. “And?”He gives me a resigned smile. “I haven’t heard from her.”My heart aches for him. “Someday, Caleb, people are going to recognize how talented you are.”“It means a lot to know that you believe that,” he says quietly. A smile playing at the corners of his mouth, Caleb takes my hand from his arm and holds it between both of his. “I wanted this to be a surprise. Come on.”He leads me up the aisle and tugs me to the right when we reach the front. His hand is trembling. He stops at a spot where a small knot of people have gathered. Gently, he takes my shoulders and guides me in front of him. “I’m wondering if you see anything you recognize.”As my eyes scan the paintings and sculptures, a few people move aside, and my breath catches as I see the large canvas, prominently displayed. It’s a painting, done with palette knife and oils, a style I recognize as easily as if it were my own. Black squares, threaded with yellow and red, layer upon layer of darkness. But in the center, where there used to be a red, raw gash, an open wound, now there is light. Brilliant white, yellow, pearlescent pink, bubbling up from the darkness, bold and strong. The light squares knit together the darkness, and the very center is still tender, more pink than white, like scar tissue. The edges of the painting are smaller squares of light, like it’s gradually chipping away at the deep darkness. A work in progress. I blink away tears. “It’s your painting,” I say, unable to conceal the rasp of emotion in my voice. Caleb’s arms wind around me, and he speaks in my ear. “It’s what you’ve done to me.”My throat is so tight I can barely speak, so I simply squeeze his hands, pressing them hard against my ribs. I can’t handle this. It’s so much that I’m going to start sobbing if I don’t get away. Mascara’s going to run down my cheeks. It won’t be pretty. “I need to go to the ladies’ room. I’ll be back.”He lets me go as soon as he feels me trying to get loose. I lower my head and clumsily brush my lips over his wrist, the only way I can communicate that it’s okay, that it’s not him.
It is, though. It’s him, only him.
If I stay here another moment, I’m going to tell him that I’ve fallen in love with him, and that’s crazy. Wobbling on my high heels, I move toward the side exit, which I’m hoping leads to a bathroom.