Ruined: A New Adult and Billionaire Romance (His For A Week Book 5)

by EM BROWN

  “I don’t know that—” Kimani stopped herself from suggesting that movies didn’t necessarily make good examples for real life. “I bet lots of entrepreneurs can make that kind of money.”

  “I mean regular people, silly. It would take my older sister a whole year—maybe more—to make what I just did in one week!”

  In a good mood, Claire chattered on about how being a barista like her sister or taking some other equally boring job was “soooooo not my thing.” She talked about where she went to high school, how none of the classes at the local community colleges interested her, and that she had decided to go into modeling instead. But that career path was going slower than she would have liked as she worked more trade shows than she did photo shoots. She complained about the number of European women who came to the US to try their hand at modeling, and because foreigners were taking jobs away from Americans, she’d voted for Trump. She wanted to become a model and marry a billionaire like Melania.

  “But maybe I’ll get to marry a billionaire first,” Claire said with a smile.

  Kimani stared. Did Claire really think something was going to come out of a relationship—if it could even be called that—with a guy who paid for sex?

  “I’m actually a little nervous,” Kimani said as she noticed that they were long past Marin County and driving through Sonoma County. “We don’t know anything about this guy. What if he’s not that nice?”

  “Did you see how good-looking he was?”

  Kimani did a double-take, not understanding the response.

  “He had the sweetest-looking baby-blue eyes,” Claire sighed. “And we know he’s not racist ’cause, you know, he bid on you. That’s a good sign, right?”

  Kimani tapped on the window to the driver again. She wanted to get to a phone to call Sam with an update. “Can we make a bathroom stop?”

  “Lo siento, no hablo ingles,” the driver replied.

  Wishing she had paid more attention in her Spanish class, Kimani combed her memory and finally remembered. “Baño, por favor.”

  “Una hora.”

  “What did he say?” Claire asked.

  “I think he said in an hour,” Kimani replied. Where the hell were they being taken?

  “I hope we get something to eat. Honestly, I thought the limo would be stocked with champagne or something. Instead, there’s only bottled water.”

  At nearly four in the morning, they pulled into a refueling station somewhere north of Ukiah in Mendocino County. Kimani had never been this far north of San Francisco before. So much for dining at The French Laundry.

  After ducking out of view from the driver, Kimani found an old-fashioned pay phone. But it didn’t work. The place was deserted with no trucks in sight, so she couldn’t borrow a cell from anyone.

  “Chica! Vamanos!” the driver called to her.

  For a second, Kimani contemplated taking her chances with the empty truck stop, but her story wasn’t complete.

  “Coming,” she called.

  Claire napped while they continued their drive, but Kimani was too distracted to sleep. She told herself she was probably worrying about nothing. Not all the Scarlet Auction bidders were like Marissa’s. Still, she wanted to remain vigilant and at least keep track of where they were. She kicked herself for not keeping her cell with her, but who would have thought it would get taken? Notice was probably on page nineteen of the contract in eight-point font.

  Not long after leaving the truck stop, they pulled off US 101 and onto State Route 36. They passed towns Kimani had never heard of. All she knew was that they were likely in Trinity County, one of the least-populated counties in the state.

  We’re in the boonies.

  Kimani hadn’t noticed a single traffic light. It was doubtful the county even had a Starbucks. Getting off State Route 36, the limo drove along a heavily forested, winding road.

  What if our guy is worse than Marissa’s?

  She tried to shake the morbid thoughts from her head, but every nerve in her body was screaming that she had gotten herself into a heap of trouble.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  “Holy shit,” Claire gasped when the limo pulled up in front of a two-story cabin sitting at the edge of a small, pristine lake. “Now this is what I’m talking about.”

  Instead of awe, Kimani felt only dread. They were miles away from civilization, without their cellphones, with a driver who didn’t speak English.

  “I don’t understand why, if we were coming this far, we didn’t get to pack bags?” Kimani wondered, clutching her handbag close to her. She wanted to be able to switch on one of her recording pens when needed.

  “Probably because we have a closetful of fancy clothes just waiting for us!” Claire replied, clasping her hands together.

  Kimani raised her eyebrows. “I’ve got a bad feeling about this. Seriously, we have no idea where we are, who we’re dealing with...”

  That truck stop back in Mendocino County was looking like it would have been the wiser choice.

  “You don’t get it,” Claire responded. “We’re his for a week. We’re here because he wants us all to himself with no distractions. We can’t get away, and we’re totally at his mercy. It’s sooooo sexy!”

  “Seriously, you don’t find this creepy at all?”

  Claire shook her head and followed the limo driver up the stone walkway to the cabin. Kimani took a bracing breath and trailed behind. Maybe she was overreacting. Maybe the guy was just planning a romantic weekend at his cabin. His remote cabin.

  “Oh! This is probably where we meet the kind old housekeeper or personal assistant that helps Master out with everything and helps us get dressed,” Claire said to Kimani. “She likes that he has a woman in his life.”

  Kimani stared in disbelief. Did Claire really think reality was going to unfold like some erotic romance story? Still too unsettled to appreciate the beautiful natural surroundings, Kimani focused on the cabin. At any other time, it would have taken her breath away with its seven gables, multiple balconies, and windows that took up ninety percent of the cabin’s facade. The place probably raked in a huge heating bill in winter. Kimani felt some relief to see that with all the balconies, there were many points of egress.

  A stern-looking man opened the double doors of oak and decorative glass with satin-nickel caming. With his height and bulk, the guy did not look like someone to mess with.

  “Las chicas,” the driver said.

  Mr. Stern-Face nodded. “This way, ladies.”

  Kimani decided she preferred the company of the non-English speaking driver, but the man was headed back to the limo. She and Claire followed Stern-Face into the cabin and downstairs to what was a third but lower level of the cabin. He opened the door to a large single room.

  “This is where you’ll sleep.”

  Claire walked in, ready to be impressed. Instead, her face fell. There was no beautiful four-post bed draped in romantic linen, no plush carpeting or shiny hardwood floors, no door to an amazing bathroom with granite counters and a Jacuzzi bathtub. There were no windows, and the only light came from a lightbulb at the top of the ceiling. The only furnishing comprised two queen-size mattresses resting directly on the floor without box springs.

  “You’re to stay in the room until he gets here,” Stern-Face said before shutting the door behind him.

  “Wait!” Kimani cried. She ran to the door but found it locked. Shit. She went to the only other door, but it only led to a toilet.

  “This is not what I expected at all,” Claire said. “It must be like some kind of joke. Maybe we’ll be shown our real rooms after we go shopping.”

  “I don’t think there’s much in the way of luxury shopping in this county,” Kimani murmured as she went to try the door again. No luck. “I can’t believe we’re locked in here!”

  “Master doesn’t want us escaping,” Claire giggled.

  Kimani stayed the desire to smack some sense into the girl.

  “I wish we had something to eat, thoug
h. I’m starving.”

  Kimani dug into the purse she still held and fished out a packet of trail mix, which she offered to Claire. She didn’t have much of an appetite.

  Claire hopped off the bed. “Oh, thanks! I’ll just have a little since we’re probably going to have a sinfully decadent breakfast.”

  “You sure about that?”

  “Billionaires like to wine and dine in style. I mean, what’s the point of being a billionaire if you don’t indulge in everything that you can?”

  “I don’t know about that. Gold toilets would be excessive to me.”

  Claire shrugged. “If you’ve got money to burn, why not?”

  Kimani didn’t answer. Her mind was on more pressing considerations, like how to escape if the situation warranted it. Maybe this was part of the fantasy—it obviously was for Claire—and when the week was over, they’d laugh and talk about how fun it was.

  But this guy expected sex, and when Kimani refused, what would happen? Would he be understanding and have his limo take her back to the city? Or would he be a jerk and dump her at the nearest town to fend for herself?

  Or what if he didn’t take “no” for an answer?

  Since he hadn’t received an update in a while, Sam would probably be worried by now. His cell was connected to hers through a locater app. He could trace where her phone was—unless whoever had it turned the device off or it ran out of battery.

  Remember the story. It’s going to be killer. It’s going to be worth it.

  Feeling better, Kimani took a reassuring breath. She sat down on the bed. Wow. The sheets were amazing. She had never felt anything so soft.

  The sound of footsteps made her jump to her feet. Was it Stern-Face? Could she get him to let her use a phone?

  The door opened, and in walked their bidder. Their Master.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The guy had boyish good looks with wavy golden-brown hair and twinkling blue eyes. He reminded Kimani of a young Bradley Cooper. So with looks like his, why did he need to buy women at the Scarlet Auction, she wondered?

  He put his hands on his hips. In his Kiton jeans and perfectly pressed shirt by Tom Ford, he looked impeccable—the opposite of how Kimani felt.

  Claire waved. “Hi, I’m Claire.”

  He frowns. “I didn’t say you could talk.”

  “Oh! Sorry! I mean...” Claire looked down.

  “And I don’t know any Claire. Your name’s Slut #1.” He turned to Kimani. “And you’re Slut #2.”

  Kimani felt her cheeks burn.

  “Let’s get a couple things straight here,” he continued. “You don’t talk unless I say you can. You don’t do anything—and that includes taking a piss—without my permission. Got it?”

  Claire nodded. He turned his gaze onto Kimani, waiting. She stared at him, wondering if he was serious or just acting out a role?

  The next second, her cheek was on fire and pain flared in her temple from where her head struck Claire’s.

  “Answer me, bitch!”

  She had to blink several times to get her bearing.

  “Well?” he demanded.

  Surely the Silent Auction arrangement didn’t allow for violence? Even if the contract she signed acknowledged she might be, in BDSM parlance, ‘disciplined,’ assault couldn’t stand up in court, could it? But she decided not to risk the guy’s ire and answered, “Yeah, I got it.”

  He struck her again. This time Claire jumped out of the way.

  “I didn’t say you could talk, bitch.”

  This shit just got real, Kimani realized. Her heart was racing. Part of her was recalling all the moves she had learned in her self-defense class. The other part reminded her what she was here for. She wished she had turned on the broach camera or had her recording pen ready.

  She heard him unbuckle his belt.

  “Now how about some breakfast?”

  Turning, she saw that he had taken out his cock. Shit.

  “Come on, slave,” he said to Claire, waving his penis up and down. “Time to eat.”

  For the first time since the auction, Claire looked uncertain.

  “Don’t make me say it twice,” he threatened.

  Tentatively, Claire went down on her knees before him.

  “What’s the matter? Never done a blow job before?”

  Claire shook her head.

  He smiled. “Well, you’re in for a treat. Go on now. Take that puppy into your mouth.”

  He pointed his cock at her. Claire parted her lips.

  “Oh, that’s good,” he groaned as he slid into her mouth.

  His hand went to the back of her head as he began thrusting his hips. She grunted as he tried to shove more of his length into her.

  “Yeah, baby,” he said. “Good slaves get rewarded. Bad slaves get punished.”

  Claire choked when he shoved a little too hard.

  “All right, all right,” he said when she began gagging uncontrollably. He turned to Kimani. “Your turn.”

  “I’m not ready yet,” she said.

  He narrowed his eyes. “What did I say about talking?”

  “Aren’t there supposed to be safe words?” she blurted, as a new worry blossomed. What if they were dealing with a psychopath?

  He shook his head. “Are all nigg—”

  Her eyes widened. “Whoa, you weren’t about to say—”

  “—as dumb as you?”

  Her ears burned at the epithet. There was no way she was taking this asshole’s cock now. For a brief moment, she had contemplated doing it for the sake of the story. Not anymore. Now she was as much pissed as she was scared.

  “You just lost your privilege to wear clothes,” he declared. “Take the dress off. Now.”

  Every nerve in her body revolted at the command, but when she didn’t move, he took a step toward her and struck her across the cheek, this time with his fist. Claire screamed.

  “I told you to take the fucking dress off!”

  Tears pressed into Kimani’s eyes as she unzipped the dress with shaky hands. The situation shouldn’t have surprised her. She had fully expected to find her owner to be no different than the man who had abused Marissa, had known there was a chance she would get physically hurt. Unlike Marissa, she wouldn’t just sit around and take it.

  However, she hadn’t anticipated being without her cellphone. She hadn’t anticipated being so far from civilization with nowhere to run. Now if she put up resistance, there was no one she could turn to and no escape. How violent would this guy get? Was he going to beat her until she took his cock?

  But he had gone back to Claire. He took her jaw and opened her mouth before sliding himself in.

  “You sure look pretty eating cock,” he cooed to her before looking up to see if Kimani was still undressing.

  With the zipper down, she slid the straps from her shoulders.

  “Take it all off, bitch.”

  Trembling the whole time, she pushed the dress past her hips and down her legs.

  “Bra and panties, too.”

  Reaching behind her, she unclasped her bra. Why hadn’t she thought to hide a weapon of some sort in her dress? Should she try to make a run for it and escape to tell the authorities? Her own experience could serve as the basis for the story. But was that enough?

  She hesitated at her boy-cut briefs and expected the asshole to bark at her again, but he was too distracted by his blow job. He was moaning and babbling incoherently as he fucked Claire in the face. Soon he was blowing his load all over her.

  “Took care of one virginity,” he chuckles as he tugged at his semi-flaccid cock.

  He glanced at Kimani. She quickly shed her panties. Except for her heels, she was now completely naked.

  “Now about you—” he began before he was interrupted by the ringing of his cellphone. Cradling the phone between his ear and shoulder, he put his penis back in his pants and zipped up. “Hold on. I don’t have good reception downstairs. Give me a minute.”

  He took his cellphon
e in hand and walked out the door, closing it behind him. The lock turned.

  “You okay?” Kimani asked Claire, who was still on her knees, wiping the cum off her face with her hands. She went into the bathroom and got some tissue for Claire.

  “Y-Yeah,” Claire answered. “It—It was different from what I expected. He’s really into an alpha dominant role.”

  Kimani couldn’t believe it. “The only role that guy is into is the role of asshole.”

  She rubbed where he had punched her. She had known from Marissa’s experience that things could turn violent, but she hadn’t been prepared enough. The wisest course of action was to find a way to get herself and Claire the hell out. Who knew what else this asshole was capable of?

  But how could they escape? Where would they go? And even if they could, what recourse did they have? She didn’t know a thing about the guy. The best she could provide the police would be a sketch of what he looked like. The guy deserved to be arrested for assault, maybe even kidnapping.

  His attorneys, as well as those for the Scarlet Auction, would probably make conviction a challenge. They might even try to explain his behavior away like Claire did. There was a misunderstanding, he thought he was just acting out the part of a Master-Slave relationship in the context of consensual BDSM, he thought he was just doing what the women wanted, etc.

  And who knew what she and the other women had agreed to in signing those legal forms.

  Kimani bit her lower lip. If she wanted to see this son of a bitch put away, she needed more evidence. But how was she going to get it?

  CHAPTER SIX

  Ben didn’t bother changing out of his dark colored suit and indigo dress shirt. His morning meetings had run longer than anticipated, and he didn’t want to arrive much later than Jason would. He needed to be there to make sure his cousin didn’t do anything stupid with Jake and Derek.

  Ben’s jet landed at Weaverville Airport, where his rental was waiting for him. After putting his bags in the Jeep rental, he drove himself to the cabin. With its rugged landscape of heavy forestry and the Klamath Mountains, the area was beautiful. Unlike most years, the terrain was verdant with flora as a result of the heavier-than-usual rain in the spring months. Ben had put down the top of the Jeep to bask in the early summer sun, glad to be in dry and temperate Northern California instead of muggy and hot Beijing, where his parents lived.