“You got a name?”
Again, the blond remained silent.
“Apparently, we’re Wench #1 and Wench #2,” replied the naked one.
She said it as if it was his fault she had a name she obviously didn’t like. She didn’t like him, either. Ben sensed that right away. A porcupine was less prickly than her.
“Tyrell didn’t pick up, but I left him a message,” Jake said as he walked over with his shot glass refilled. “No use talking to my wenches. They’re not supposed to talk without my say so.”
Ben raised his brows. “And they signed up for this?”
Jake rolled his eyes. “They’re getting compensated a shitload of money for their time. Plus, they get to live out their fantasies. Wench #1 said on her application that her favorite book is Fifty Shades and that she’d like try out what it’s like to be with an alpha Dom.”
“How much do they get?”
“I don’t know exactly. I paid just over a hundred thousand for blondie and the black girl.”
The blond’s stomach growled.
“Are you hungry?” Ben asked.
Jake grabbed his crotch. “I fed her this morning.”
The prospect of food made the blond look up.
“If they’ve been kneeling here for three hours, they’re probably hungry. Don’t you feed your dates?”
“Sure. I just—it wasn’t lunchtime yet.”
Ben looked at his watch. “It’s past noon. Get them something to eat.”
Jake stared at him in disbelief. Ben could tell he wasn’t making any friends ordering Jake about, but he wasn’t interested in being the guy’s brah.
“You are the host,” Ben added.
With a discontented snort, Jake walked over to the expansive Tuscan-inspired kitchen, opened up the well-stocked refrigerator and pulled out a brand-new jar of pickles. Walking back, he set the jar on the coffee table near the women.
Ben crossed his arms. “Open it.”
“They’re not incompetent.” Jake nodded to the blond. “Help yourself to some pickles, wench.”
The blond reached for the jar and tried to twist the cap off. Jake had already stalked off to the bar, so Ben took the jar from the blond and twisted the cap off for her. She reached in eagerly for a pickle.
“Just Wench #1,” Jake called from the bar. “I’m not happy with the other one.”
Ben looked at the second woman, expecting her to hang her head in disappointment. Her stomach had rumbled, too. Instead, she seemed to expect Jake’s response. Her jaw tightened and her eyes flashed.
“How come?” Ben inquired.
“She wouldn’t eat her breakfast.” Jake smiled as if listening to some silent inside joke.
Ben looked at her cheek again. Though her skin was darker than what Ben was used to assessing, the discoloration in her cheek was definitely the beginning of a bruise. “So you hit her?”
“I didn’t hit her. What do you mean?”
“Her cheek.” Dipshit.
“What about her cheek?”
“It looks swollen.”
Jake shrugged his shoulders. “She must’ve fallen going down the stairs to their room. I’m gonna go see if Vince went to pick up some lunch.”
After Jake had left and while the blond was finishing off her third pickle, Ben turned to the older woman. She looked to be in her mid-twenties. She also looked intelligent. He had noticed her studying him, sizing him up. He sensed she was a little on edge but didn’t want to show it. Only when his gaze dropped to her naked body—he couldn’t help but look at those inviting curves—did she show any discomfort. When his gaze went back to her eyes, he read their message loud and clear.
Screw you, they said.
“Just got a text from Derek that they’re almost here,” Jake announced on returning.
“How much for her?” Ben asked. The words were out of his mouth before he could think on them.
“What’s that?”
“How much? I want to buy her.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Kimani blinked in disbelief. She wasn’t sure if she should be glad or not that the tall guy who didn’t like to be called Benji wanted her. If it had been a different place, a different situation, she would have found the guy hella good-looking with his wide brow, piercing black eyes, and strong jawline. But since he was a friend or associate of the Asshole, she wasn’t about to give him credit for anything.
“She’s not for sale,” replied Jake.
She had heard him introduce himself on the call to Tyrell. Now that she had a first name and knew that he was involved in the sports profession, she could probably figure out who he really was. But she didn’t just want to embarrass him by writing an expose. Even with the #MeToo movement happening, a guy like him could just get off with a slap on the hand.
“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 had 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 buying a woman for a week’s sexual gratification.
“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 ‘wench.’”
“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, wench?”
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.