by Snow, Jenika
Bought
A Real Man
Jenika Snow
BOUGHT (A REAL MAN)
By Jenika Snow
www.JenikaSnow.com
[email protected]
Copyright © June 2020 by Jenika Snow
First ebook publication © June 2020
Photographer: Wander Aguiar
Cover Model: Thiago & Emily
Image provided by: Wander book club
Cover design by: Lori Jackson Design
Editor: Kayla Robichaux
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, or distribution of any part of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.
This literary work is fiction. Any name, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.
Please respect the author and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials that would violate the author’s rights.
Contents
Synopsis
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Epilogue One
Epilogue Two
About the Author
Sold off like a piece of meat. That’s exactly what my best friend was asking me to do.
“It’s for a good cause,” she said. “Whoever wins will wine and dine you,” she said.
And so I agreed, even though I feared no one would bid on me, even though I worried how everyone would see how very much I didn’t fit in to their aristocratic, wealth-laced world.
But then he came along, saving me from face-planting at the event, holding me close and making me feel all the things that had been foreign to me. He stared into my eyes like he wanted to give me every part of who he was. He looked at me like he wanted to give me… everything.
And as I stood on that stage and was auctioned off, there was one deep voice that rose above all others.
His.
Logan Mathis.
The man who heated my body and hadn’t said more than a string of words to me during our first encounter.
The exorbitant amount of money he bid ensured I’d be his, if only for one night. But God, I wanted more. And the way he looked at me said he wanted the same thing.
Chapter One
Beatrix
“You’re out of your damn mind,” I said, the shock thick in my voice as I stared at my best friend, Patrice. We sat at my kitchen table, her phone sitting on the top, the picture on the screen showing the charity event she was helping organize later this month.
“Beatrix, it’s literally for one night. And you don’t have to do anything but stand up there, look pretty, and let men bid on you.”
I was shaking my head before she even stopped talking. “Patrice, I’m not selling myself. That would make me some kind of… prostitute.”
She rolled her eyes and had an exaggerated expression on her face. “A prostitute? Really?” She leaned forward and tapped her finger on the screen of her phone. “B, it’s for charity. I’m not asking you to sleep with the guy who wins. Just go on a date with him, let him wine and dine you.”
I was shaking my head again, but I lowered my gaze to her phone. Patrice did incredible charity work, raising money for domestic violence survivors at a nonprofit organization. She worked with companies that were worth millions, and said companies never said no to some promotion. And even though I knew this charity auction and was for a good cause, I was still so hesitant.
“All you have to do is look pretty and let some rich guy take you out for one night. That’s it,” she repeated.
“Yeah. I know,” I said softly. But the thought of putting myself out there to be bid on like a piece of meat instantly seemed abhorrent.
“B, we’re short on girls. And although I know this really isn’t your cup of tea, you’d be doing me a huge favor.” She gave me this pathetic smile, knowing it would pull at my heartstrings. “Not only that, just think of all the good you will be doing. Think of all the women and children you’ll be helping, the money you’ll help raise.” She tapped on the screen of her cell phone again as if to emphasize her point, drill it home. “All the bidders have been vetted. They’re all successful businessman, and I’m sure some are young and handsome.”
I cringed at that last part. “So my winning bidder might be my grandpa’s age?” I lifted an eyebrow, and she gave me a sheepish shrug.
“Well, the old ones are the ones who have deep pockets.” She gave me a new smile that looked forced, a little strained.
All I could do was internally cringe. “Great, knowing my luck, I’ll get someone old dude who wants me to sit on his lap so he can pet my hair.”
Patrice started laughing uncontrollably, but I was being serious, unfortunately.
I wouldn’t say no; I had every intention of helping Patrice. I couldn’t even imagine not helping her do good. But the truth was, standing on a podium being auctioned off to the highest bidder? It intimidated me. It scared me a little. The expression I gave her had Patrice smiling. She knew she’d won, that I’d give in eventually.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “It’s gonna be fun. I promise.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t help the smile that played over my face.
“We’ll doll you up and put you in one of the fancy, expensive dresses the boutique is donating for the night. You’re going to look like a supermodel, although you don’t need all the prepping and primping. You’re naturally beautiful.”
I rolled my eyes again but felt my cheeks heat. Her compliments made me uncomfortable in the way when someone said something nice about you but you just didn’t believe them.
I didn’t know how this would end up, but I could handle one night with a stranger if it meant it was for a good cause. It couldn’t be the absolute worst thing I’d ever done in my life, right?
Chapter Two
Logan
I signed my signature on the document and Starla, my personal assistant, took the paperwork and added it to the stack of folders she held.
“Is there anything else you need from me, Mr. Mathis?”
I shook my head and glanced at her. “No, thank you, Starla. You’re free to go and take the rest the day off if you like.”
She nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
She turned to leave, and I leaned back in my chair and ran my hand over my hair, the strands getting a little too long for my liking. I’d have to have Neil, my barber, tend to it.
Starla stopped and looked over her shoulder, her hand poised on the handle of my office door. “Also, a reminder, Mr. Mathis. You have the charity event this Saturday.”
I thought about the event she was referencing. I had so many events, galas, business meeting, and dinners that I attended on a monthly basis that they tended to blur together most of the time. But thankfully, Starla knew all of this at the drop of a hat. She organized my work life and made it so everything ran like a well-oiled machine.
She could obviously see me trying to sift through all my obligations, because she gave me a knowing smile and turned to face me fully.
“It’s the charity auction to benefit domestic abuse survivors.”
It all fell into place then. I gave her a nod and a grateful smile. “Of course. Thank you.�
��
“Your tux will be at your residence Saturday afternoon, and I can have Neil either come into the office Friday evening or have him stop by your residence Saturday morning for a trim?”
I gave her another grateful smile. “Whatever works best for him. Just let me know where to be and when.”
“Of course, Mr. Mathis.” She exited and shut my office door quietly behind her.
I sat there for a moment and closed my eyes, tilting my head back and resting it against the chair.
I was exhausted—not just physically, but mentally. Being the CEO of a multi-million-dollar advertising company gave me a cushy lifestyle, notoriety. But it was also one that was very lonely, very isolating. It didn’t matter that I was surrounded by people, that they kissed my ass because they thought I could give them something, because they wanted something.
And they always wanted something.
And romantic relationships? Yeah, those were nonexistent, not just because of my busy schedule, but because people were nothing more than users. I experienced that firsthand, saw it every single fucking day.
And because of that, I didn’t date, hadn’t for a very long time. Women didn’t see me as somebody they could spend the rest of their life with, as a companion. They saw me as a bank, saw who I was connected with, socialized with. They saw what I could give them. And that’s how it had always been. That’s how it probably always would be.
So I’d probably be single for the rest of my life, not giving myself or my heart to anyone, because the damn truth was, I couldn’t trust anyone to be sincere and genuine with me. I’d only ever be a deep pocket they could reach into.
I turned in my chair and looked out the window at the cityscape, the towering buildings in front of me, a bustling street below. The city was packed, congested. Citizens were always angry, always in a hurry. No one ever stopped and just thought about how grateful they should be for what they had.
You didn’t need money or status to be happy. And as the years passed, as my success grew, I saw that so profoundly it took my breath away at times.
I knew what you really needed to be complete.
Love.
You just needed love. And the older I got, the less that notion seemed like it would be my reality.
Chapter Three
Beatrix
The first thing I thought when I looked at the dress was how much skin I’d be showing. In fairness it wasn’t even that much, but for me and how modest I normally was, it was almost too much. It was far more than I’d probably ever shown in my entire life. But it was gorgeous, this emerald-green, floor-length dress with beading around the bodice, the material no doubt forming around every curve and hollow of my body, showcasing every nook I didn’t want seen.
I was a little hesitant. I wasn’t some svelte model with a perfect form. I was just like any other normal, average woman, thicker in places I didn’t want to be thick in, with bumps and blemishes, and a self-esteem that could use a good boost.
But I couldn’t deny that the very feminine part of me wanted to wear it, wanted to feel pretty.
“Beatrix, I know what you’re thinking.”
I blinked and looked up at Patrice, who watched me with skepticism.
“What?”
She lifted an eyebrow, and I gave her a sheepish smile. “You’re thinking about backing out, that the dress isn’t something you can pull off, but that’s where you’re wrong.”
Patrice had been my friend for so long I couldn’t picture my life without her in it. Not only was she genuinely sweet, but she told me how it was, not mincing words, knowing I appreciated honesty more than anything else. I didn’t need somebody to sugarcoat things for me. I didn’t need my ego stroked.
“That is what I was thinking,” I muttered, my focus on the dress.
“No one will know you’re you until after the event.”
I felt my brows knit and glanced up at her. “What do you mean?”
She turned and grabbed a small paper bag off the table, one that had the boutique’s name embossed on the front in silver lettering. She reached inside and pulled out a black, gorgeously beaded mask. It was the kind people wore to a mascaraed ball.
“Um,” I said as she handed it over and I took it. I stared at it for long moments, running my fingers along the satin and crystals. “So the auction is really going there, huh?”
She chuckled. “Believe me, having the guests masked wasn’t my idea. But the committee thought it would add more mystery to the whole event, make it more interesting.”
I guess, but it almost seemed silly to wear a mask, as if we were in some Eyes Wide Shut scene. On the other hand, wearing it would give me a modicum of anonymity, and I couldn’t deny that appealed to the very shy part of me.
“The masks were a last-minute add-on by the committee. I would’ve told you about them when I asked you to do the auction, but I just found out about it myself.”
I glanced up at her, and she shrugged, giving me another smile. An employee from the boutique came up and started talking to Patrice, and I focused on the mask once more then turned my attention to the dress. The gown hung from a hanger on the back of the dressing room door of the boutique. There was a small table beside it, a pair of black strappy stilettos on top of it. And those scared the hell out of me.
I could barely walk in ballet flats on the best of days. How the hell was I going to walk in those killers? And we wouldn’t even talk about my lack of coordination.
On top of the table, they set out a couple pieces of jewelry I could choose from. I looked at the dress again, the strapless gown snug around the bodice before flaring out slightly at the waist. I wasn’t much of a jewelry wearer, but one necklace really called out to me.
The chain was delicate, fragile-looking, and so thin it was almost as if it weren’t even there. And hanging from it was this tiny diamond, one I knew would lay right against that little hollow of my throat. There were matching earrings with it, small diamond solitaires that looked feminine. I knew nothing about fashion, and working as an administrative assistant at a nursing home meant I didn’t have to know the latest couture.
I reached out and picked up the necklace, running my finger along the little diamond. It was beautiful and no doubt expensive, but it wasn’t flashy, and I think that’s why it called to me the way it did. It didn’t stand out, just like me.
“So, we’ll have you at the venue at half past seven on Saturday. The auction starts at nine, so there will be time for you to mingle and catch your breath. You can have some champagne to unwind, and there will be some appetizers and whatnot served.” Patrice gave me a smile, because she no doubt saw how nervous I was. “The boutique is donating not only the dresses, but makeup and hair too. They are making house calls, so I’ll text you the time they’ll be at your house. Sound good?”
I nodded, because my throat was too tight to actually say anything. I looked back at the gown and jewelry. I’d never been around so many expensive things firsthand, let alone been the one to wear them. I’d feel like Cinderella at the ball come Saturday, but on the heels of that thought, I remembered why I was there and that I’d be auctioned off to the highest bidder.
Chapter Four
Beatrix
The auction
There was nothing quite like feeling as if you were completely at the wrong place at the wrong time, wearing clothes that weren’t yours, as if you were literally Alice and had fallen down a rabbit hole.
I felt like I stood out like a sore thumb, like I had this flashing neon sign above my head that screamed I didn’t belong here. I had the right clothes on, the right hair and makeup, with diamonds dripping from my ears and neck… but I so didn’t belong here.
Gorgeous women who looked more like supermodels climbed out of luxury cars, the men who followed dressed in tailored tuxedos, the aura around them screaming they had enough money to buy anything, to get whatever they wanted.
I heard the car door close behind me, drawing me out of m
y thoughts. I glanced over my shoulder, the limo door now shut, the black gleaming vehicle provided by the charity event for all the “fresh meat” that would be on that auction block.
All the woman who were being auctioned off tonight had been picked up in that limo, but I’d been the last woman to leave the confines, lingering behind and trying to calm my nerves. Everyone else was so excited, chatty in the limo, anxious to see how much they’d go for, who would want them enough to bid a small fortune. It was clear I was the odd ball in the group, all the other girls coming from money, their positions in the event orchestrated by their families who had ties.
I’d been the extra girl they needed, because they didn’t have enough, the friend of the event organizer. A favor she needed. But I’d do anything for Patrice, so here I was.
I turned back around and stared at the building once more. I did a little bit of research on the “venue,” which was actually the residence of the St. James family, who also owned the St. James Distillery and were the healthiest family in the entire state.
The plantation-style house was gorgeous and reeked of money. It had large pillars in the front, looking straight out of Gone with the Wind. It had a sprawling, massive fountain in the center, an angel made out of stone reaching for the heavens as water sprayed all around her. The steps that led up to the main doors was wide, marbled. The driveway wrapped around the front in a circular pattern, allowing cars to come and go in an easy, quick formation. And the manicured lawn surrounding the property went out for as far as the eye could see. The accent lighting around the entire property had things lit up like we were at a damn baseball field, with only shadows hinting in the very far recesses of the property.
