Bought (His For A Week)

“You had your chance,” Jake continued. “You chose not to go to the auction.”

“I’ll pay double. Take her off your hands.”

“I can handle two.”

Benji didn’t say anything, but Kimani sensed he questioned Jake’s ability.

“Besides, I want to see what jungle fever is all about,” Jake drawled. “I’ve never fucked black pussy before.”

“Two hundred thousand.”

Kimani felt her eyes pop out of her head. How did these people throw money around like this? There were hard-working people who would never come close to having that kind of money to spend on frivolous things like a week with a sex slave.

“Be a good host,” Benji coaxed as if talking to a child. “Give me the girl for two hundred thousand.”

Jake narrowed his eyes. “Why you want her so bad?”

“Why do you? Sounds like she’s not a well-behaved slut.”

“She just needs some disciplining.”

“I can handle that. Two hundred is my last offer.”

Jake pursed his lips and scratched his chin. “Fine. You can have her. Even though it was your choice to come stag, I’d feel bad if you didn’t have any pussy like the rest of us. Have the money wired to my account.”

A long silence ensued.

“Fuck lunch,” Jake said at last. “I’m going on the boat. You wanna go on the boat, Slut #1?”

Claire gave a timid nod. Grabbing her hand, he stomped off with her, leaving Kimani alone with Benji.

Her pulse quickened as they stared at one another. As much of an asshole as Jake was, was this man the lesser evil? She was comforted a little by the fact Benji was nice enough to request food on their behalf, and as she found herself pulled into the ebony pools of his eyes, an odd and kindred sensation wound around her heart. Maybe it was their shared dislike of Jake.

The man was taller than most Asians she knew, and when he removed his jacket and rolled up his shirtsleeves, her breath faltered. He had looked model-perfect in his suit, but with his jacket off, she could see he had a really nice build.

His gaze traveled her body, taking in every naked inch. She flushed beneath his study. She had convinced herself not to care about being undressed before Jake. The asshole was deliberately trying to make her feel exposed, vulnerable and degraded. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction. But with the current pair of intense, clear eyes staring at her, she felt self-conscious.

Her stomach grumbled, and she glanced at the pickle jar. Normally she wasn’t a fan of pickles, but she was pretty hungry at the moment.

Seeing the focus of her gaze, he said, “Go on, have some.”

She reached into the jar and pulled out a slice but kept him in her line of sight in case he made any sudden movement.

After laying his jacket over the back of the sofa, he walked over to the kitchen. She watched him assemble a bag of ice, which he brought to her.

“For your cheek,” he explained.

Finishing the pickle slice, she accepted the ice and pressed it to her face.

“Thank you...” He hadn’t said how she should address him, so she used what the Scarlet Auction staff had recommended. “Master.”

“Where’d you get the bruise?”

She didn’t respond. She was pretty sure he and Jake weren’t the best of friends, but she didn’t want to assume too much. What if he told Jake? What if Jake called off the deal and punished her for contravening what he had said? She had already decided she was going to gather as much evidence as possible so that she could nail Jake’s ass to the wall.

When she didn’t answer, Benji didn’t press. Instead, he went back to the kitchen and made tea using some fancy coffee machine. He brought over two steaming mugs.

“I’m not much of a tea drinker,” she said.