[His for a Week 01.0] Bought

by EM BROWN

  “Hey, cuz!” Jason called. “Jake’s going to help me become a sports agent.”

  Ben turned to his cousin. “I was going to talk to Father about having you work on the resort in Thailand with me.”

  “Yeah, but the family doesn’t really need me on that when they’ve got you. Besides, sports is much more interesting than real estate development. Maybe I can work on recruiting Tyrell Jenkins and take that off your hands.”

  Jenkins was the prospect that Ben hoped would sign with the Golden Phoenix, one of the teams currently struggling in the Chinese Basketball Association.

  Ben glanced at Jake. “Your idea?”

  “I think Jason would be great at it,” Jake answered.

  Bullshit. Jason had zero professional negotiating experience, and while he was an exuberant fan, he knew little of sports management. Jake would walk all over him.

  Now, it was possible that Jake was acting out of friendship. He and Jason had been close since they were dormmates in college, but Ben wasn’t going to give Jake the benefit of the doubt so easily.

  “Let him do it,” Jake urged. “It’s not like being a sports agent is your real job.”

  But Ben’s father, the head of the Lee Family Corporation, was the Golden Phoenix’s biggest fan and patron. He wouldn’t want just anyone taking the lead. The coach and team manager had allowed the Lee family to intervene because the last sports agent had burned them, wasting time with subpar talent while asking for large contracts.

  “You’ve never expressed an interest in the business of sports before,” Ben said to Jason.

  Jason shrugged. “I’ve always liked basketball.”

  Since Ben was the only son, Jason was the closest thing to a brother to him. He wanted to support his cousin, and for the first time, Ben realized how frustrated his own father must have felt, seeing a family member who wasn’t living up to his potential.

  “All right, let’s talk about it later,” Ben said. He wasn’t going to discuss the matter with Jake around.

  Taking up his pasta bowl, Ben reheated the food in the microwave. Several texts chimed on his phone.

  “Dude, you need to learn how to take a vacation,” Derek said.

  Ben scanned the messages to see that none were urgent.

  “Did you know that none of the women have their cellphones?” Ben asked the other guys. “The Scarlet Auction took them.”

  “So? Sluts don’t need cellphones,” Jake said.

  “Yeah,” Derek seconded, “phones would just be a distraction.”

  “It’s to protect the privacy of the bidders.”

  “What about the privacy of the women?” Ben inquired.

  “Given who we are, we’re more likely to be the victims of blackmail and shit like that.”

  “A lot of the bidders are married men,” Derek added, “though if I ever get married, it’s gonna be an open marriage, know what I mean?”

  The microwave finished just as Ben reached his tolerance level for conversation with overgrown frat boys. He took the bowl out of the microwave and headed upstairs to see how Kimani was doing.

  Another text came in as he climbed the stairs. It was from Stephens, his special projects manager based in the US. It read:

  Got the info you wanted.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Since the items they had bought in town were in his room, Kimani decided to take a shower. She’d had one yesterday but didn’t have the conditioner she needed. Conditioning was important given that she had styled her hair to appeal to as much of the audience of bidders as possible at the Scarlet Auction. If she had hair like Lisa’s, she could probably go days without washing or conditioning.

  The shower felt great, a steamy oasis from the testosterone that ran the place. When she emerged and wrapped a towel around herself, she felt rejuvenated and focused on her task at hand. She was going to get the story that would land her a job at the Tribune. She wasn’t going to let a jerk like Jake get in the way.

  Ben, however, was a different story. He got in the way—in a big way. She shouldn’t be letting him distract her. How could she be so easily seduced by him? And here she thought she was different from the other women. While it was true that she didn’t have Claire’s romantic fancies of falling in love during her week as a sex slave, she should have been able to resist Ben’s seduction.

  And don’t forget you’re mad at him for leaving you high and dry—correction, high and wet.

  Recalling how his fingers had felt against her, how his digits probed places that sent currents zinging up her spine, warmed her as much as the steam in the bathroom. She should never have let him touch her in the first place. She had known that doing so was stumbling off a cliff.

  But he had felt so good. And it wasn’t just how he caressed her. When she had lain against him on the patio chair last night, his body had provided a warm security that comforted as much as it titillated.

  That was it. She was grateful to Ben. Finding herself in a high-stress situation, stuck in the boondocks of Northern California, and worried for her welfare after Jake had struck her across the cheek, she saw Ben as her protector. Yesterday, he had lent her clothes, saw that she had lunch, and allowed her to nap in his bed.

  But he had his asshole moments. He wasn’t a pure knight in shining armor. He had bought her for sex, after all. And not just vanilla sex. He wanted her submission.

  She wiped the condensation off the bathroom mirror and looked at herself. How far was she willing to go for her story? She didn’t have a problem going undercover, but she hadn’t planned on having sex. She had planned to test the man who won her to see what would happen if she said no to something or decided she wanted to back out of the arrangement altogether. She may have consented to participate in the Scarlet Auction, but a woman had a right to change her mind.

  However, she already knew the Auction had set things up so it was unlikely a woman would back out. There were the imposing contracts and nondisclosure agreements signed before multiple attorneys, the nonrefundable application fee of two thousand dollars, and the fact that a woman who didn’t complete the entire week to the satisfaction of the purchaser would not receive a penny.

  So far Ben hadn’t pushed himself onto her, but a man could only be so patient. She sensed he had gone easy on her their first day together, but he was making his expectations known.

  It was bad enough she had compromised the story by becoming sexually involved with one of the subjects, but she was determined to get the best story that she could and let Sam, the editor of the Tribune, sort it out.

  Best not to make things more complicated, however, between herself and Ben. Tonight, she would focus on the other women. They hadn’t had much of a chance to talk during dinner because they didn’t know if they were allowed to. She had asked Claire, in a whisper, how she was doing. The young blond had smiled in return. Kimani hoped that meant Jake hadn’t hit her. Lisa, a very slender woman with long black hair, and Ryan, a lithe redhead and perhaps the most confident of the women, seemed in good spirits.

  The women slept downstairs in what looked and felt like a basement dungeon, but the upside was that, away from the men, they could talk freely. While on the boat this morning, Kimani and Ryan, Derek’s purchase, had gotten into an interesting conversation, and Kimani had not yet had the chance to write down notes.

  And she still had to call Sam and give him an update and assure him that she was still safe. For that, she would need to use Ben’s cellphone again, as she had done yesterday.

  He was there when she stepped out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. How was it he could look so sexy just leaning against the dresser? The plastic bag with the clothes from the thrift store lay next to his hip. Damn. She should have brought the clothes with her into the bathroom to change into. Now she stood with only a towel around her. At least it was on the larger side. Still, she could use as many layers of protection as possible. He didn’t leer or ogle, but he took in all of her.

  “Thought you
might want to finish dinner,” he said, indicating a bowl of pasta next to him.

  She remembered dishing out all the pasta. “Isn’t that yours?”

  “It’s yours now.”

  She couldn’t imagine a guy his size not eating. “Don’t you want it? Or do you not like it?”

  “The pasta tasted fine, but I don’t need to eat.”

  She gave him a funny look.

  “I often have just one meal a day,” he said.

  “’Cause you’re too busy to eat?”

  “Because I choose to.”

  “Why?”

  “It’s a health choice. Anyway, the pasta is yours if you want it.”

  He held out the bowl and a fork. She was still hungry, but should she change first? She didn’t want to reach over and get too close to him. She checked to make sure her towel was secure before accepting the fork and bowl. She sat down in a chair a comfortable distance from him.

  “Are you sure you don’t want to have some?” she asked. “I had salad, so there’s no way I could finish all this.”

  “Just eat what you can.”

  While she ate, he scrolled through his phone.

  “Is this a working vacation for you?” she inquired.

  “Sort of.”

  He seemed to be reading something.

  “Something the matter?”

  He looked up from his phone in surprise. “Why do you ask that?”

  “You just looked a little unhappy.”

  “How could you tell?”

  She wasn’t sure. The guy was not expressive, but her senses had been on high alert most of her time here. “I don’t know. Just picked up on it somehow. Is everything okay?”

  She wasn’t sure why she cared.

  “I was reading an update to the EIR for a property we’re interested in developing.”

  “An Environmental Impact Report?”

  He nodded. “Remediation is required.”

  “Where is the property?”

  “Oakland.”

  She perked up. “You do a lot of business in Oakland?” she asked as she pushed the pasta around the bowl.

  “What do you consider a lot?”

  “Have you developed property in the city before?”

  “We’ve funded a number of developments. You’re interested in real estate?”

  “I’m interested in Oakland. I was born there. Went to a preschool in Chinatown. Was one of two black kids in the class.”

  “Did you live in Chinatown?”

  “No, but it was the most affordable preschool in town. Childcare is a big issue in the upcoming mayoral race.” Since Ben hadn’t told her about his uncle, she couldn’t ask him directly about it. She thought for a moment before saying, “One of the candidates shares your last name.”

  He was staring at her rather intently. “He’s my uncle.”

  Kimani pretended to be surprised. “On your dad’s side?”

  “The youngest of five sons. He immigrated to the United States when he was fourteen.”

  “Are you expected to help with the campaign?”

  “I do what I can.”

  “Do you walk precincts or—let me guess—fundraise.”

  “There’s only so much I can do.” He looked down at his phone. “It’s for you.”

  He held the phone up for her to see the text. It was from Sam and contained only two words:

  Call me.

  He was probably worried about her. She reached for the phone. “Can I use your cell again?”

  But Ben withdrew it. “You want the phone? You’ve got to find out what’s behind curtain number three.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  Even in a frown, her lips looked luscious. He wanted to take them. Smother them. Devour them.

  He had lucked out on timing, though catching her in the shower would have been better. He had thought about walking in on her but had refrained, knowing he would impose himself on her later. She looked too hot in that towel for him to do nothing. She had the perfect body, fit and still athletic but, as she no longer kept up the same level of training as he had when she was playing ball, softened in all the right places.

  Given her reticence, he had been patient with her. He had never had to wait for sex before—and he had paid for it this time. With a woman who wanted the money badly enough that she was willing to trade her body. He knew she hadn’t signed up for the Scarlet Auction for fun or she would have welcomed his advances more than she had. However, he’d see to it that by the end, money would be a secondary consideration for her.

  “What’s behind curtain number three?” she asked.

  “I told you before...it’s a surprise,” he replied.

  “That’s not fair. How am I supposed to make an informed decision?”

  “Who says life is fair?”

  Her nostrils flared.

  “You have your safety word,” he reminded her.

  That relaxed her. A little.

  “Is there a reason you’re not telling me?” she tried.

  “Is there a reason you need to know?”

  Answering with a question clearly irritated her. She retorted, “I asked first.”

  He crossed his arms. “You want to know why? Because not knowing amps up the anticipation.”

  With a swallow, she looked away. If his answer rattled her, it was her own fault for asking.

  “What’s your need to know?”

  She met his challenging gaze. “I want to know what I’m getting into. Like you said before, I don’t like uncertainty.”

  “Did you know what you were getting into when you signed up for the Scarlet Auction?”

  “I imagined the worst.”

  He cocked his head to one side, finding her response strange. “Only the worst?”

  She seemed to regret what she said. “I mean...I had heard stories that didn’t turn out so well. Some guys can be real jerks, you know.”

  “But you needed the money badly enough that you were willing to risk it and have sex with a jerk.”

  “Something like that.”

  “If that’s what you’re committed to, why are you so worried about what’s behind curtain number three?”

  “Does it involve BDSM?”

  “You told the Silent Auction you were into BDSM.”

  “I said I was open to it with the right person.”

  “I’m the right person.”

  Her lower lip fell, and it was all he could do not to bridge the distance between them, yank the towel off her, and take those lips. Lips that he had paid two hundred thousand dollars for.

  He did push off the dresser, and she immediately tensed as if bracing for fight or flight.

  “So what’s it going to be?”

  She looked at his cell, which he had placed on the dresser.

  “You’re going to honor the safety word, right?” she asked when she returned her gaze to his, her eyes piercing into him. “It said in the legal contract that you would.”

  She had spoken quickly, as if she didn’t believe her own assertion.

  He held her stare. “I didn’t sign any contracts.”

  Her face fell, but she gathered herself. “But one could argue that the terms of the contract apply to extensions of the original arrangement.”

  He wasn’t a lawyer, but it seemed like she was grasping at straws. “You can sue Jake for breach of contract. And you could sue me, too, just for the hell of it, but how does that help you in the here and now?”

  Her eyes steeled against him. She was a smart woman. She knew, even if her claim about extending the terms of the contract to third parties held any water, that (a) he wasn’t afraid of lawsuits; (b) she didn’t have the resources to go after him; and (c) the real damage would have been done long before any lawsuit could occur.

  She wasn’t happy with the situation. Consequently, she wasn’t happy with him. He got to run the show, and she didn’t like that. Probably resented him for it. He could see her searching her mind for a card to play, but a
ll the high cards were in his hand. She saw that, but she wasn’t ready to give up just yet.

  “Are you suggesting you’re not going to honor your safety word?”

  “I said before I would. It’s dangerous playing without one.”

  “So there is BDSM behind curtain number three.”

  “How badly do you need to talk to Sam?”

  She huffed. “Can I have a minute to think about it?”

  “Sure. But the towel comes off while you think.”

  Her anger flared twofold. She was probably cursing him in her head right now. It didn’t bother him that she did. It intrigued him. While it was messed up that the Scarlet Auction had taken her cellphone, he wasn’t a nice enough guy not to use that to his advantage. Especially since she had lied about who Sam was, telling him some bullshit about Sam formerly being a man but was now a female friend, one who worried about her.

  Stephens, who handled special projects for him in the States, had found out that Samuel Green was the editor of the San Francisco Tribune and married with two kids.

  “I haven’t had a chance to do anything for you yet,” she said, rising to her feet.

  His cock perked. “Such as?”

  She took a step toward him. “How about I get the cellphone if I suck you off?”

  Fuck. It was a tempting offer, but was she really hoping to do that? He had thought about sliding his cock into that hot mouth of hers multiple times.

  “You want to give me a blow job?” he tested.

  “Don’t I get to touch you?”

  His whole body tensed, screaming for the prospect. She took another step forward, doing her best to look and sound sultry. She didn’t have to play the seductress, however. He had been willing to fuck her the day he saw her.

  “I assume you’ve had a blow job before?” she inquired.

  He laughed. Over a hundred easily. “You any good?”

  “Sure. At least, I’ve never failed to get a guy off. You’re not...shy...are you?”

  Was she challenging him? He decided to press back. “So you’d rather suck my cock than see what’s behind curtain number three?”

  “I thought, since you’ve already gotten me to come, it was your turn.”