Bought For Love
You Don’t Know Jack #1
Michelle Hughes
Tears of Crimson Publishing
Copyright © 2014 by Michelle Hughes.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed “Attention: Permissions Coordinator,” at the address below.
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Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales is completely coincidental.
Book Layout ©2014 BookDesignTemplates.com
Bought For Love/ Michelle Hughes. -- 1st ed.
ISBN-13: 978-1499215625
ISBN-10: 1499215622
Bought for Love
Bought for Love
Greed
Jack
Kim
Opportunity
Dream Date
Enthralled
Learning
Owning Emily
His
Undone
Training
My World
Becoming
Labor of Love
Simply Jack
Who is Jack?
"He was quite beyond all comprehension. Did he really care about her, more than he was willing to admit? Or did he have some other motive?
― Margaret Mitchell (Gone with the Wind)
Chapter One
Greed
“This shit right here is what I’ve been talking about. People have no respect these days.”
Kim was already on a rampage and I hadn’t even had my morning coffee yet. I wondered what was making her mad at the world today. But it was going to have to wait until I poured my first cup. Last night I’d barely slept worrying about our financial situation. I loved my older sister¸ but she got angry at the stupidest things. Sitting down at the worn kitchen table, I had my warm cup held in my hands protectively, and took a deep sip.
Kim shook her head and gritted her teeth as she continued to read through some article on her outdated laptop. “Can you believe the nerve of this asshole? He thinks he can buy women like cars or something!”
Okay. That caught my attention. A man was buying women? Was that even allowed in today’s society? “That can’t be legal.” I’d regret getting into this conversation, but the topic was too interesting to not ask.
You have to understand my sister. She works at a homeless shelter, making minimum wage. Seeing the things she has, well, it made her bitter toward the world’s upper one percent. Her resentment was for the people living in the shelters, but we were on the brink of poverty ourselves. I guess it was selfish but I worried about us instead.
“Of course it’s legal if you’re a billionaire. Hell, they get away with raping people and serving probation instead of jail time because it ‘might not be good for them’.”
She was still rightly angry at that heir who supposedly got away with raping his daughter. I had trouble sleeping at night after finding out the truth behind that story. Unlike Kim, though, I knew there was nothing I could do about the situation, and focused on keeping our rent paid.
“The bastard even states he wants an inexperienced woman that he can mold into becoming his perfect partner! Basically, he wants some virgin who won’t know how bad he sucks in bed so he can make her his personal love slave. Fucking asshole.” She turned the computer toward me, and my breath caught in my throat.
The man was unbelievably gorgeous. As in, stepped right off the big screen handsome. Dark brown hair, cut just above the collar of his button down. Deep blue eyes that almost matched his jacket, and that dimple in his chin? I wondered why he had to buy anyone. He could probably charm a girl by giving her a smile.
“Just goes to show, you can’t judge a guy by looks. You’d think he’d have some class. But he’s no different than some of the pimps you see hustling girls on the street.”
I almost sighed as Kim turned the laptop back. You definitely didn’t see men that looked like that in our neighborhood. Not that I was paying attention. When I walked home from the library or my part-time job I was more worried about getting mugged than caring what the person next to me looked like. Since neither of us owned a car, public transportation was our only travel option. Lately the transit system had gotten even worse than before. Muggings were not only possible but likely.
“What’s he offering the woman?” I drank another sip of my coffee, and wondered what it would be like to belong to a man like him. No worrying about bills, or groceries, just living the good life.
“Get this shit. A long-term relationship with monetary value to be discussed at the interview.” Kim scoffed before closing the lid on her computer. “I hope someone kicks his ass.” She stood up and put her used coffee cup in the sink. “I’m staying over at the shelter tonight. You want to come hang out?”
Just like that her mind was on work. I guess I should’ve been thankful that she had a job to do. When she went off on one of her rampages, they sometimes lasted for hours. “Actually, I was hoping you’d leave the computer with me so I could look for another job. They’re cutting my hours at the store again and I need something better.”
I worked at a little convenience store at the end of the block. Besides being dangerous, I really needed at least forty hours if we were going to eat something more than sandwiches next month.
“This damn economy is killing us all. Of course I’ll leave it. Just remember to check out the bus situation for any jobs you apply for.” She bent down and kissed my cheek.
“Yes, Mom.” I smiled at the familiarity of the situation. Kim was ten years older than me and had been my mother since our own passed away five years back. I was a freshman in high school when my mom had been hit by a drunk driver, changing our lives forever. I owed her so much for stepping up to the plate.
“I wish I had her skills. Need to run, baby girl. If you get freaked out, just come on down.”
I nodded and watched her walk out the door. The shelter was only a few blocks from our apartment, but I hated walking the streets at night. I also didn’t like hanging out here without her after a few shootings happened last month in our building that shook me up.
I pulled the laptop over to my side of the table and opened it up. The gorgeous billionaire guy stared back at me. Jack Duncan. I let his name roll off my lips and wondered how someone with such an average name managed to acquire two point five billion dollars
Parents both deceased now. He was the youngest of four children. I admit it, I was curious so I continued reading. Thirty years old? Okay, that was almost ancient, but he definitely didn’t look a day over twenty-five. Good genes? The article went into detail about his business, which had something to do with buying and selling companies. I grew a little bored as the details got away from the personal and into his company’s stock market portfolio. He was looking for a companion not a stock broker, so why did it matter?
I wondered again what it would be like to have a life of luxury. There was link at the end of the post for applicants, and for grins clicked on it. An application appeared and knowing that Mr. Billionaire would never be interested in a girl like m
e, I decided to fill it out.
Some of the information was really personal and my fingers faltered on the keyboard. Breast size? Could you really ask that on application? I wasn’t sure I wanted to put that information out on the web, even though the page claimed encryption. Deciding it was just a joke anyway, I typed in 32 C. My small frame was heavily stacked in that area, and believe me, it was not a good thing.
I had no idea what my waist size was, but I wore a zero, so I typed that in. I’d tried to gain weight all my life, but unfortunately, it just didn’t happen. My sister always griped about that, because she fought with hers all the time. I didn’t want to be that thin. Getting nagged all the time about eating more was a pain in the butt.
I almost died laughing when the interview question asked about my dating preferences. Since I’d never been on a date, I decided to come up with what I thought would be a perfect romantic evening. Taking a dinner cruise on a yacht from the New York Harbor. If you’re going to dream, dream big, right?
I finished up the application and added the only picture I had of me in somewhat formal wear. It was from a wedding I attended with my sister for one of the owners of the homeless shelter. It was only a year old and I hadn’t changed that much. I’d worn a second-hand formal dress we’d found in a thrift store. My sister had piled up my long chestnut hair in a flip and even fixed my makeup that day. I wasn’t big on dressing up, but I didn’t look half bad in that picture.
Sending off the application, I decided it was time to step back into reality and started looking for a job. Two hours later, I was ready to scream in frustration. Even minimum wage jobs were impossible to find lately. Taking a break from my search, I walked over to the refrigerator and pulled out all the fixings for a sandwich. Guess we were going to be living on those next month, because I didn’t see some miracle job dropping out of the sky to save us.
I fixed my simple meal, ate quickly and decided a hot shower might make me feel better. Walking back to the bathroom I stripped quickly and waited for the water to heat up. It managed to get lukewarm, which was better than some of the icy cold ones I was forced to take.
Knowing I didn’t have long before another icy blast, I washed quickly. I wasn’t a violent person by nature, but our landlord deserved a swift kick in the butt. There was no reason to have such a limited hot water supply!
Finishing up in the bathroom, I dried my thick locks and managed to pull on a tank top and a pair of shorts before the phone started ringing. Walking into the living room I answered, thinking it was probably just my sister extending another invite to come stay with her tonight.
“Ms. Yates?” A refined woman’s voice spoke.
“Um, I’m Emily, can I help you?” I didn’t know if the call was for me or Kim.
“I’m a representative for Mr. Jack Duncan. He’s looked over your application and would like to set up an interview.”
Holy crap! I’d done that whole thing as a joke, never thinking the man would be interested. “An interview?” I’m sure my answer made me seem like an idiot, but I was seriously blown away.
“Yes. It’s just an informal meeting and shouldn’t take up more than an hour of your time. How does today at three sound?”
“Today at three. I’m not doing anything this afternoon.” Those words were supposed to remain in my head.
“Wonderful. He’ll send a car for you. Thank you for your time.” The caller hung up before I could catch my breath.
Holy crap, holy crap, holy crap. What was I going to do? There was no way I could go meet some billionaire, no matter how hot he looked in a photo. Not to mention, I wouldn’t know what to say to the guy, and I sure wasn’t interested in becoming some high priced call girl. Nope. No way in hell I was going to meet with him. What would my sister say? Okay, she didn’t exactly have to find out, but still. No! Normal people didn’t drive off to meet some strange, gorgeous man, knowing that he was looking for a hookup.
What if he wasn’t looking for sex, though? Maybe he was lonely. I knew a lot about being lonely. I didn’t really have any friends here and outside of my job and sister my social life was pretty non-existent. What would it hurt to just talk to the guy? I mean honestly, how often does a person like me get to meet someone so interesting?
Kim was going to kill me. I really wasn’t considering going. Just because I walked back to my closet and started throwing outfits on the bed, didn’t mean I was thinking about doing this. So what if I snuck into her room and rummaged through her makeup, hoping I didn’t look like a clown as I fixed my face?
Everyone’s entitled to getting dressed up once in a while. I slid on the only presentable dress I had, another thrift store find, and paired up the white cotton garment with a light pink jacket. Standing in my bedroom, evaluating myself in the cracked full length mirror, I decided I could pass for decent.
Sliding on a pair of white Mary Janes, I looked ready to go to church instead of possibly going to meet some man interested in a date. I didn’t have a clue what to do with my hair, so I just left it hanging down my back after I brushed it until the thick locks fell in a curtain. I hadn’t had this many butterflies in my stomach since I graduated from high school. Walking down to the curb, I still wasn’t sure I would go through with it. Not until a driver walked around to the back passenger door, and I slid into the softest leather seats imaginable did I really make up my mind.
Chapter two
Jack
A dozen women had walked through my office doors today and not one of them interested me in the least. They were all beautiful, but something was missing in each one of them. I wasn’t looking for one of my normal conquests. Those fell into my bed at will. Hell, if I wanted to fuck, all I had to do was pick up the phone, and I could have one of them in my office and on her knees immediately.
No. What I needed was a sweet little, controllable woman who would mother my children. She couldn’t be like the countless women that fulfilled my dark passion, and was sent on her way after pleasing me in the way she was taught. I could be a cold-hearted piece of shit, and usually preferred things that way, but this time was different.
I’d decided to run for political office and the woman that I chose in this capacity, had to be different. She needed to be a woman that the American public would fall in love with, looked good on my arm at social events, and be willing to do everything I asked during certain times while accepting that we would have a relationship of convenience.
In return for her complete obedience, I would give her a life that most people could only dream of. Now if only I could find that one lucky woman and start putting things in motion. She’d want for nothing. Clothes, a beautiful mansion, riches beyond her dreams, those were just a few of the perks this contract would include. In return, she’d give me children, and be the perfect little wife sitting home and indulging in her life of pampering.
“Mr. Duncan, your three o’clock appointment has arrived.” My secretary was one of the few women I respected. She earned the high esteem I held her in during her eight years of employment with me.
“Thank you, Lorna. Send her in.” This was the last interview of the day and I hoped that there was something in this female that I could work with.
What. The. Fuck.
That was my first impression of Emily Yates as she walked into my office, looking like some sweet little angel. Judging by her appearance, she was barely out of high school and my dark side wanted to throw her ass across the desk and fuck her until she couldn’t move. I’m sure I should’ve hated myself for feeling that way, but I rarely felt bad about anything I did. With a big ego comes a lack of responsibility.
“Please have a seat.” Those words came out reserved and I was thankful that my cock wasn’t controlling my manners at the moment. The way she timidly made her way toward my desk and nibbled on her luscious little pink lips was enough to make me want her even more.
“I’m Emily.” Her beautiful hazel eyes rested on my desk. Shit, that’s every deviant’s fuck
ing dream. Fidgeting in the chair as she sat that slender little body down had me so hard I was glad my lower body was hidden behind the desk.
“Jack.” But you can just call me Master, sweet thing. “Tell me about yourself.” Quickly. Before I walk around this desk and see just how submissive you are.
Even her voice was sexy, in that unsure, I’m so asking-to-be-trained kind of way when she began talking about her non-existent social life. There couldn’t be a more perfect woman for what I had in mind. Twenty years old, lived with her sister, didn’t have a boyfriend, and was probably the most innocent little creature I’d ever met in my life. Definitely perfect for what I had in mind.
“That’s about all there is to know.” Those hesitant little eyes looked up at me, and I swear, I felt like I’d been punched in the gut. The only problem with this woman was going to be reeling in my appetite and not scaring the shit out of her.
“What are you looking for in a relationship, Emily?” Whatever the fuck it is, I plan on making you change it.
She blushed. Fucking blushed! Shit, that’s sexy. “Um, I really don’t know. I haven’t had one before.” Consider this interview over, I found what I need. She wouldn’t even know what hit her until we’d walked down the aisle and was finally mine.
“Maybe we should go to dinner and find out?” Dinner, and then my bed, that is. I wanted this little woman in my bed, and had no intention of denying my needs. She’d give me what I wanted after I instructed her in the ways of passion. This was going to be too damn easy! An innocent over the age of sixteen, life just didn’t get much better than this.
I know I’m a son of a bitch, never claimed I wasn’t, but when I want something, I don’t stop until it’s mine. I wanted Emily Yates. Hell, the girl was ripe for the picking, and since she answered my ad, obviously she was ready to give it up.
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