His For A Week_Bought

by EM BROWN

  “Here’s your phone.” She handed it back to him. “Could I borrow it again tomorrow?”

  He eyed her carefully. She was having this Sam person look him up. Possibly doing her due diligence and making sure he wasn’t a convict or psycho. The NDA she must have signed with the Scarlet Auction might only have pertained to Jake. Nonetheless, if there wasn’t already language there, a lawyer could probably make the case that the NDA extended to third parties.

  “It’s just that Sam will get worried if he—she doesn’t hear from me.”

  Why was she covering up who Sam was?

  “I don’t care if you have a boyfriend, or even a husband.” Especially if the guy was fully aware of what she was doing, like Woody Harrelson’s character in Indecent Proposal.

  “No, no,” she quickly refuted. “I sometimes get my pronouns mixed up because...Sam’s a transsexual.”

  He took his phone back. “I’m not going to snitch on you if you lied to the Scarlet Auction that you were single.”

  “I didn’t. I’m just used to referring to Sam as a ‘he.’ So, can I use your phone again tomorrow?”

  “Sure.”

  “Thanks. Sam—she can be such a worrywart.”

  Ben let it go, even though something still sounded off about the whole thing.

  “And while we’re here, can you call me Montana? I’d rather people didn’t know who I really was. It would be too embarrassing if anyone I knew found out. Sam’s the only one who knows I’m doing this.”

  This Sam was pretty special in her life. Ben had a mind to do some background checking himself. He had Sam’s phone number in his cell since she had texted and called him. If Ben made a few calls, he could get a hacker in Singapore to dig up Sam’s identity, address, and more.

  He cupped her chin and tilted her face so that she couldn’t avoid his gaze. He wanted to see her reaction when he said, “I don’t have a problem calling you Montana. But the name I’d much rather use is my pet.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Her legs weakened. Kimani could smell herself on his fingers, which were wrapped firmly—uncomfortably, actually—about her jaw. The pupils of his eyes, darker than any she had known, had constricted. His current demeanor reminded her that the cliff she wanted to climb back on was dangerously high.

  “Would you like that?” he asked. “Would you like me to call you my pet?”

  Not really. Or maybe. By him. In the context of BDSM role-playing. But she had the feeling his was a rhetorical question, and the only appropriate response she could come up with was:

  “Yes, Master.”

  His features softened and he released her jaw, allowing her to breath. At least “my pet” was better than “Slut #2.” Wasn’t it? Maybe not. Maybe being referred to as an animal was more demeaning than being referred to as a whore.

  “Time to get these sluts their beauty sleep,” Jake announced as he walked into the house.

  “I’m not done with mine,” Ben said.

  “You had your chance, Benny boy. I don’t want to have to lock up twice.”

  “If you don’t mind,” she said to Ben, “I’d like to go with the other women. If that’s okay with you...Master.”

  He seemed to like it when she called him Master. He nodded. She breathed in relief. As wonderful as her orgasms had been, she wasn’t sure she was up to another. She needed to get a safe distance from him before she allowed herself to slide farther down that cliff.

  “Vince, take the sluts downstairs,” Jake ordered Mr. Stern-Face.

  Lisa turned to Jason. “I thought I was staying with you?”

  Jason shrugged.

  “But I left my suitcase upstairs.”

  “Vince has already moved it,” Jake informed her.

  “Master,” Claire piped up, “I don’t have a hairbrush, or even a toothbrush.”

  Jake rolled his eyes. “Vince can find you a toothbrush.”

  “And you can borrow my hairbrush,” Ryan offered.

  “Sleep well. You sluts have a lot of work to do tomorrow.”

  He grabbed his crotch suggestively. Kimani glanced at Ben, her savior in many ways because the last thing she wanted was to have to go down on Jake. She hadn’t told Sam about being hit because he probably would have told her to come straight home. She couldn’t wait to hear what he had dug up about Ben and Jake.

  After Claire and Kimani received toothbrushes and the women attended to their oral hygiene in the first-floor bathroom, they all followed Vince downstairs. Once he got to their room, he flipped on the light switch. Ryan’s and Lisa’s bags were by the second mattress.

  “This is where we’re staying?” Ryan asked. “It’s a shithole.”

  Lisa wrinkled her nose. “There aren’t even any windows.”

  “Sleep tight, ladies,” Vince said as he closed the door behind him.

  Kimani heard the lock engage.

  “Part of the BDSM thing,” Claire explained. “We’re supposed to be the sex slaves.”

  “I don’t remember anything like this in Fifty Shades,” said Lisa.

  “Well, Anastasia wasn’t a sex slave,” Ryan clarified.

  “It doesn’t bother you that you are?” Kimani asked.

  “You’ve never fantasized about being a sex slave to some super-hot guy?”

  “I have,” Lisa answered. “It’s pretty cool that I get to play out one of my fantasies. How often does that happen?”

  “I guess I have a hard time with the concept of slavery,” Kimani said.

  “That’s history. We’re talking fantasy. It’s different.”

  “Even so.” Kimani tried to imagine being Ben’s sex slave. Not a real slave. Just pretending, role-playing. The thought wasn’t as revolting as she would’ve expected. Was being his slave better than being his pet? Or was it essentially the same thing?

  “How is his cock by the way?” Lisa asked a little shyly.

  “I don’t know. I haven’t seen it yet.”

  The other three stared at her.

  “Then what were the two of you doing?” Ryan chimed in. “You were screaming plenty loud.”

  Kimani blushed. “We were just—he masturbated me.”

  “That’s it?” Claire asked, stunned.

  “That’s it.”

  “He didn’t fuck you?” Ryan inquired.

  “Or make you suck him off?” Claire added.

  “That’s weird.”

  “Maybe he’s super small,” Lisa suggested. “Being tall doesn’t mean you’re well hung.”

  “My guy’s got a super-small dick,” sighed Ryan. “And he sucks at foreplay. In fact, there was barely any.”

  “Jason tried his best to hold out for me but I could tell he was having a hard time, so I faked my orgasm. How’s Jake?”

  Claire answered, “He’s got a pretty nice cock, I guess. He only had me do a blow job tonight.”

  Ryan looked at Kimani. “Sounds like you’re the only one among us who got to come. Lucky bitch.”

  After Kimani switched off the lights, they settled into bed, Ryan and Lisa on one mattress, and Claire and Kimani on the other.

  “How was the rest of your time with Jake?” Kimani whispered to Claire.

  “He took me out on his boat.”

  “Did you have fun?”

  Claire didn’t answer right away. “We had sex. It hurt a lot more than I expected, not like what I read in novels. Did it hurt the first time you did it?”

  “Like hell. I remember thinking to myself that if this is what sex was like, I wasn’t doing it again.”

  “But then it definitely gets better?”

  “It gets a lot better. Especially with the right guy.”

  “Jake wouldn’t let me wipe the blood away at first. He even licked it, like he was a vampire.”

  “Vampires are so sexy,” Ryan said. “I wish vampires were real.”

  If they were real, they wouldn’t be as sexy, Kimani thought to herself.

  “Does Jake make you feel uncomfortable
at all?”

  “A little,” Claire admitted,” but I figure that’s because it’s just the first day.”

  “Well, if he makes you too uncomfortable, I’ve got your back. We’re in this together.”

  Claire turned onto her side, away from Kimani, and was soon breathing deeply, leaving Kimani to her own thoughts. Her mind replayed snippets of her conversation with Ben and, of course, the way his hands had felt on her, in her. Without doubt, it had been one of the best orgasms she had ever had. At times she’d wondered if she had a G-spot, and now she knew. Jesus, it had felt so amazing. Squirting had felt amazing. Her body warmed at the memory, and her fingers wandered over the path his had tread. Would she get to have an orgasm again tomorrow? She rather hoped so.

  Jesus, Kimani, did you forget you’re working on a story?

  Turning onto her side, she shoved her hands under the pillows. She wasn’t here for sex, especially sex with a stranger. No matter how good-looking he was or how skillful his fingers were.

  After waiting for the other women to fall asleep, she crept to her purse and pulled out a pen and her little notepad. There was a night-light plugged into a wall socket, and she jotted notes on everything that had transpired, except for the part where Ben had masturbated her.

  Dammit. How could I have let this happen?

  It was as if his massage on her, and even the sound of his voice, had lulled her into a trance, but she couldn’t eschew responsibility and lay the blame at his doorstep. Simply put, she had allowed it to happen, had ignored her better judgment and surrendered to the rapture of his fondling.

  By becoming involved with one of the subjects, she had likely compromised her story. She supposed she could give her account to another reporter so that the San Francisco Tribune could still get the scoop, but she herself wouldn’t get the byline. She’d have to talk it through with Sam.

  She put away the pen and notepad and crawled back into bed. Shutting her eyes, she willed herself to focus on sleep. And in her sleep, she dreamed of diving off cliffs.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  The lake water was freezing, but Ben welcomed the cold because the morning swim helped cool his ardor after thinking about Kimani all night and first thing when he woke. Why the hell did he want her so badly? It was like he was back to being a horny teenager. He wanted her back on his lap, her body squirming atop his, his fingers buried in her hot, wet cunt. And they had just begun. There was so much more he could do, and he wanted to do it all.

  He swam butterfly for 400 meters, then freestyle back to the shore. The final sprint had him nice and winded. With his heart pumping hard and the sun warming the water on his skin, he felt invigorated. He wrapped a towel around his waist and went up the stairs to the cabin.

  While he was swimming, everyone else had risen. The guys were sitting around the dining table with bloody marys, Claire and Lisa were kneeling by the fireplace, and Kimani and Ryan were making breakfast in the kitchen.

  Kimani was wearing her cocktail dress beneath his shirt. He smiled to himself to think the sweatpants might still be damp. She hadn’t worn any panties beneath the sweatpants yesterday. Was she going commando right now? He imagined sliding his hand beneath her dress to find out.

  “We’re going out on the boat this morning for some skiing,” Derek said to him. “You in?”

  “Sure.”

  “Oh, wow,” Ryan murmured after nearly bumping into Ben while carrying a plate of toast. Her gaze went up and down his bare chest.

  Kimani, standing in front of the stove with a pan of scrambled eggs, looked over. Her gaze locked with his.

  “Morning,” he said.

  “Morning,” she replied, glancing over his body briefly before turning her attention back to the eggs.

  “Good morning, Master,” Jake told her before turning to Ben. “You got to do a better job teaching your slut proper sub behavior.”

  Ben took a celery stick to stay himself from saying something that would tick Jake off before the meeting with Tyrell had been set. “You worry about yours.”

  “You can’t let them get away with the small shit, you know. Otherwise, they can get out of line and start topping from the bottom.”

  “Does that worry you?”

  “Hell no. I just don’t like it. Won’t tolerate it. I was just giving you some friendly advice.”

  “I’ve been a practitioner for over ten years—”

  Kimani nearly dropped the pan as she bobbled pouring the eggs onto a plate.

  “—I know what I’m doing.”

  “Go put a shirt on,” Jason said, throwing a kitchen towel at him, “and stop showing off.”

  Glad to get away from Jake, Ben went upstairs to change. While in his room, he received a call from Stephens, who took care of special one-off projects for Ben.

  “Rosenstein wants to know if you want to go with D. Brown, the younger consultant who knows Oakland well and has worked for several councilmembers,” Stephens relayed, “or if you want Harris and Blume. Harris and Blume is a firm based in San Francisco but they have a lot of experience with independent expenditures.”

  “Goddamn it,” Ben cursed. “You’re not supposed to talk to me about the I.E. It can’t coordinate with the candidate’s campaign, and since I’m family, I’m considered part of Uncle Gordon’s campaign.”

  “It was your idea to set up the I.E.”

  “But I can’t run it, influence it, or communicate with it. I was clear with Rosenstein about that.”

  Rosenstein was a developer who the Lee family had worked with on a project not far from Oakland.

  “Got it. I’ll reinforce the message,” Stephens acknowledged.

  After finishing his call, Ben went downstairs to find that most of the guys had finished their breakfast. Jason was over by the fireplace with his hands down Lisa’s tank top, Derek was making another drink, and Jake had gone out to get the boat ready.

  Kimani set down a plate of eggs and toast on the table. “If you don’t like your eggs scrambled, I can make them a different way.”

  “Did you eat yet?” he asked.

  “We’re supposed to wait until all the Masters have finished.”

  Taking a seat at the table, he indicated the chair opposite him. “Sit down.”

  She looked around before sitting.

  He pushed the plate of eggs and toast to her. “Eat.”

  “Aren’t you hungry?”

  “I told you to eat.”

  He watched her pick up a fork and scoop a small amount of eggs into her mouth. He liked watching her eat. Occasionally, she would look up at him, and he wondered what was going through her mind.

  He got up to make tea, then poured them both some orange juice.

  “Thank you...Master.”

  The word didn’t fall comfortably from her mouth, but a ripple went through his groin nonetheless.

  “What about the Scarlet Auction appealed to you?” he asked. “You’ve got a Stanford degree. It’s not like you can’t get a job to make money.”

  She chewed her toast slowly and swallowed before answering. “Like I said, it’s good money. And fast. I get paid within a week when everything’s all done and over with.”

  “You need the money in a hurry?”

  She shrugged. “I’ve got student loans to pay. I only had a partial scholarship to Stanford.”

  He narrowed his eyes. She had to be on a payment plan for her student loans, so that hardly qualified as urgent. Maybe she had maxed out her credit cards. “So you don’t have a job?”

  “I have a job.”

  She sounded almost defensive.

  “What do you do?”

  She hesitated. “I work as an office assistant.”

  “Where?”

  “At a financial firm,” she mumbled into her food. “The pay’s not that great. It’s expensive to live in San Francisco. Rents are through the roof, and they just keep getting higher.”

  “Your parents or family can’t help you out with expenses?”


  “I’m not going to ask my parents for help. They already dipped into their savings and retirement accounts to help pay for Stanford. They’ve done enough for me.”

  He was curious to know more about her family, her background, but that would be getting too personal.

  “What about you?” she asked. “What do you do? Apart from paying exorbitant amounts of money for sex.”

  He leaned back to better view her. She said it half-jokingly, but there was an undercurrent of judgment there.

  “My family’s in real estate.”

  “What kind?”

  “All kinds.”

  “Residential or commercial?”

  “My father started with residential. Now it’s a mix between the two.”

  “Where’s the family business based?”

  “We have offices in Hong Kong and Beijing.”

  “Do you live there?”

  “Is this an interview of some kind?”

  She lowered her lashes. “I was just curious. It’d be nice to know a little more about the guy I’m supposed to...you know...”

  “The guy you’re supposed to fuck?”

  She looked him in the eyes. “Yeah. That.”

  “You make it sound like a chore.”

  “Well, I’m getting paid to do it.”

  “Doesn’t mean you can’t enjoy it. Was it a chore when you squirted last night?”

  A blush colored her cheeks. She didn’t seem to know where to look.

  “I asked you a question,” he said when it seemed she wasn’t going to answer.

  “No,” she admitted. “But it’s not always going to be like that, is it? I assume you’ve got...expectations.”

  “I’ve got a lot of expectations.”

  She swallowed. “What are they?”

  “I’m not going to overwhelm you with them right now, but if you play your part right, last night won’t be the only time you get to squirt.”

  Her lower lip hung agape, and it was all he could do not to reach over the table and capture her bottom lip with his mouth.

  She reached for her orange juice and finished it. “I’ll fix up another plate for you.”

  He watched her walk into the kitchen, his gaze lingering on her booty. He wondered if she had ever had anal sex. That was one virginity he didn’t mind taking. Feeling his groin tighten, he shifted in his seat and decided to look out the window.