Bought Read online Jenika Snow (A Real Man #24)

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Romance Tags Authors: Jenika Snow Series: A Real Man Series by Jenika Snow
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I leaned against the wall, the women elegantly dressed, their attitudes screaming snobbery. Despite this being a charity event, these people were here to mingle, to make business connections, to gain something for themselves. Oh, they’d donate, reach deep in their pockets for a good cause, but they weren’t doing it because it was the right thing. They only did it to advance their own goals.

I brought the champagne glass to my mouth and took a long drink, my gaze scanning the crowd, searching for her. I slipped on my mask as soon as I entered the St. James residence. It had been redecorated for the evening, the mansion having silk slung from the chandelier as ethereal-looking lights accenting the walls. It gave it all a dream-like quality.

Everyone wore masks, some more elaborate than others. But I could still make out the identities of those around me. When you were around the same types of people who had a certain air, a posh quality to them, you picked up on who they really were.

Like Mr. Brackets, CEO of Brackets Industrial. He was married, had been for twenty years, but the woman he was with most certainly wasn’t the missus. His date was half his age with enough plastic in her body she gave Barbie a run for her money. He always had his hand on her ass at these events. That was what gave him away, like right now.

Then there was the French diplomat, Jacques Florentes. Or Madame Genesia. They were in a relationship, had been for the last two years, but refused to acknowledge it publicly despite the fact that everyone already knew they were banging. Instead, they attended these events and eye-fucked each other from across the room before “coincidentally” disappearing at the same time, no doubt to fuck in a darkened corner.

I finished off my champagne, setting it on a passing tray held by a waiter before grabbing another one. I started making my rounds through the room, my sole purpose finding my mystery woman.

I didn’t even know anything about her aside from her first name. I didn’t even know what she fully looked like, because she’d been wearing her mask. But I’d never forget her scent, never forget the way she felt pressed up against me. I’d never forgot the feeling of her body, her heat, as it seeped into me, or how clear and blue her eyes were as she looked up at me with surprise.

And I wanted to think that I saw arousal filter across her face, move through her body. The way she tightened against me, clutched at me. The way her pupils dilated, the sound of her breath coming out a little shallower. It all made me hard. Needy. Desperate.

I wanted to think all those things were real and not just an overactive imagination, a fantasy that I wanted as my reality.

I should have controlled my consumption of the champagne, but I found myself finishing my third glass and heading toward the bar that had been erected in one of the great rooms.

I scanned the room, my one mission so focused.

I had to find her.

I hadn’t wanted to bid on a woman, despite it being for charity. It seemed barbaric, primal. But thinking about Beatrix up on that stage? Fuck, if she was up there… I’d want no one but her. Only her.

I was transfixed by her... obsessed. And all it had taken was this one moment in time where we connected, cementing deep in my body that there was something realer out there.

And just as I was about to turn and search the rest of the house, a flash of emerald green caught my gaze. Bodies elegantly dressed mingled, slightly blocking her from my view. It pissed me off. I was like a starving dog, and she was the finest piece of meat amidst a sea of garbage.

Then the crowd parted, and I could fully see her now.

There she was, standing off to the side all alone. She held a champagne glass in her hand, her stance telling me she was uncomfortable, still fell out of place. She was a diamond amongst all these other dull rocks. Whereas everyone else was used to these events, used to the money being thrown around, the false sense of giving a shit filling the room, she was so different.

And I fucking craved that.

I found myself moving toward her instantly, unable to stop myself. It was like I was on autopilot.

I had to get to her.

I could practically smell her scent, and I was still feet from her. My throat tightened, my tongue swelling. I wanted to tell her all the things, all the words, yet I didn’t even know what the fuck I’d say. I wondered what she felt like fully pressed against me. I wondered how she tasted in the throes of passion.

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