Their Virgin Hostage, Masters of Ménage, Book 5

BOOK: Their Virgin Hostage, Masters of Ménage, Book 5
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THEIR VIRGIN HOSTAGE

 

Masters of Ménage, Book 5

 

Shayla
Black and
Lexi
Blake

 
 
 
 

THEIR VIRGIN HOSTAGE

Masters of Ménage, Book 5

Shayla
Black and
Lexi
Blake

 

Published by
Shayla
Black and
Lexi
Blake

Copyright 2013 Black Oak Books LLC

Edited by Chloe Vale and
Shayla
Black

ePub
ISBN: 978-1-939673-03-9

 

Thank you for not sharing your copy of this book. This
purchase allows you one legal copy for your own personal reading enjoyment on
your personal computer or device. You do not have the right to resell, distribute,
print, or transfer this book, in whole or in part, to anyone, in any format,
via methods either currently known or yet to be invented, or upload to a file
sharing peer to peer program. It may not be re-sold or given away to other
people. Such action is illegal and in violation of the U.S. Copyright Law. If
you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an
additional copy for each recipient. If you no longer want this book, you may
not give your copy to someone else. Delete it from your computer. Thank you for
respecting the hard work of these authors.

 
 
 
 

THEIR VIRGIN HOSTAGE

Masters of Ménage, Book 5

Shayla
Black and
Lexi
Blake

Copyright 2013 Black Oak Books, LLC

 

Bonus material and excerpts at the conclusion of this
book.

 
 
 
Chapter One

Kinley
Kohl looked at herself in
her custom
Pnina
Tornai
white wedding dress with its sweetheart neckline and lacy, glittery bodice…and
she wanted something more. More emotion. More excitement. Just more. But she
didn’t know what.

Her dress was gorgeous. The elegant hotel, all decorated in
wedding regalia, looked stunning. No doubt, her groom-to-be had dressed
impeccably for the occasion. The sky above Manhattan was a cloudless, perfect
blue. Five hundred of the country’s wealthiest and most influential people
waited to see her walk down the aisle in the Plaza’s grand ballroom. It was a
dream wedding, but the encroaching panic made it feel more like her nightmare.

Was it too late to run screaming down Fifth Avenue?

“Are you sure you want to wear that dress?” Becks asked,
standing behind her and eyeing her critically.

Kinley
sighed. It was a good thing
her father hadn’t remarried and brought a wicked stepmother into her life. She
hardly needed a hypercritical parent when she had her sister. “What’s wrong
with it?”

There was always something wrong, according to
Beckin
Kohl Abernathy. Admittedly, her sister was one of
the most prominent fashion plates in New York. Society looked to Becks for
style advice, while those same women, along with the tabloids, mostly called
Kinley
unpleasantly plump.

“Oh, don’t get me wrong, hon. The dress is fabulous.” Becks
gave her a little half hug, careful not to crush or ruffle her perfectly
coiffed platinum hair. It was longer in the front than the back and had an
asymmetry that accentuated her high cheekbones and drew attention to her
well-glossed lips.

“It just seems a little…snug.” Becks gave a delicate wince.
“Did you and Greg decide to start your family early?”

Kinley
turned on her sister,
feeling her face flush with humiliation. “I’m not pregnant.”

In fact, what Becks suggested was impossible. She and Greg
had never shared a bed. Actually,
Kinley
had never
had sex with anyone. And now, she was about to become a virgin sacrifice to
help the family she loved. Of course, it would be easier to feel good about
this whole choice if her sister wasn’t quite so judgmental.

“Well, I guess stress eating with such a big wedding is
understandable.” Becks sent her a tight smile of sympathy. “But unadvisable.
Don’t frown. I’m only saying that for your own good. The press is already
unkind to you.”

Tears filled
Kinley’s
eyes. She
had eaten only protein shakes, brown rice, and fish for three weeks. She’d lost
thirteen pounds so she could fit perfectly into this dress. She thought it had
worked…until now. “I want to be alone, Becks.”

Her sister sighed, brushing imaginary lint from the sleek
gray sheath she’d selected for the bridesmaids.
Kinley
had wanted a soft pink, but Becks had insisted that her choice was much more
elegant. Her older sister had a way of getting what she wanted.

“I didn’t mean to upset you on your wedding day when I know
you’re already nervous. I’m sorry,
Kinley
. I’m being
a bitch. Don’t mind me. I’m sure Greg will think you look lovely.”

But now she couldn’t look at herself and not see the slight
curve of her stomach that no amount of dieting ever eradicated. She wasn’t a
size six. Hell, she wasn’t even a ten. The dress had been custom made because
it didn’t come in her size. She sniffled a little.

“Don’t cry, Kin.” Becks grabbed a tissue and handed it to
her. “This is your wedding day, and you’re marrying the richest guy we know.
What could you possibly have to cry about?”

“I don’t love him.” There she’d said it. She was shocked
everyone hadn’t guessed. Her father kind of knew, but he was ignoring it. Becks
couldn’t possibly think she loved Greg. They had nothing in common, but each
had something the other needed.

Becks rolled her eyes and crossed the room to reach for the
champagne sitting by her bouquet. “Is that all? No woman I know loves her
husband, at least no one in our world.”

That stunned
Kinley
. She’d always
wondered, but… “Not even you?”

“Please…” With a surprisingly unladylike snort, her sister
rolled her eyes. “After Brian and I got married, I tossed out my birth control.
The key to my future was in spitting out a couple of kids and tying him up
legally. Even if he starts thinking with his pecker and tries to trade me in
for a younger model, he’s going to pay handsomely for the privilege.”

“Becks, how could you think like that?” Children weren’t to
be used for a payday.

Then
Kinley
started imagining her
own children. Panic engulfed her again. She couldn’t imagine being pregnant by
Greg. She couldn’t even imagine sleeping with him, like married people were
supposed to do. And by sleeping, she was sure that Greg expected something more
active than snoring.

Kinley
gulped back her nerves. He
was good-looking, but she wasn’t attracted. Did that make any sense? How could
she have babies with someone she had no interest in touching intimately?

Becks gave her a dazzling grin. “It was hell for a few
years, but the nanny certainly helped. My personal trainer whipped my body back
into shape, and it was bye-bye pregnancy pounds. Then when the kids turned six,
I shipped them off to boarding school. Now, life is grand again. My two angels
are practically my retirement fund.” She chuckled. “If Brian wants a divorce,
he’ll have to pay through the nose before he sees his kids again. That’s how
I’ve kept my hand wrapped firmly around his balls. Oh, his dick probably runs
around on me, but as long as I have his testicles, he’s not going anywhere. You
should take a page out of my book.”

“No.” That parody of marriage wasn’t at all what
Kinley
had in mind. Shouldn’t “'til death do us part” be
about commitment and devotion? “That’s you, Becks. Mom loved Dad.”

Kinley
wished her mother were
still here. Mom would never have allowed either of her daughters to marry
someone they couldn’t give their hearts to. Her father was a wonderful man,
but…he was weak. Though the situation wasn’t entirely his fault, he’d put her
in a position that basically forced her to marry Greg. If she didn’t, they
would all be ruined.

“Not in the beginning,” Becks said. “You have this silly,
white-lace ideal of their marriage, but Daddy married Mom because Granddaddy
told him that if he didn’t, Daddy was getting cut off. Aunt
Mayrene
gave me the whole story. Daddy ran off to become an artist and ran right back
three weeks later and proposed. He liked the art part, but apparently he didn’t
love the starving.”

“Neil and Sharon Landry are in love.” They were the sweetest
couple she knew. They sent out the loveliest Christmas cards with all four of
their kids dressed in red sweaters while Neil and Sharon held up mistletoe and
kissed. She’d looked at that last card and wondered if she would ever be so in
love.

“He’s fucking his barely legal nurse,
Kins
,”
Becks said, wrinkling her nose. “How did you not hear about that? It’s all over
town. And for a highly respected obstetrician, I’ve heard he’s rough on that
girl’s vagina, if you know what I mean. You would think since he’s got his
hands shoved up them all day that he would be a little more tender.”

But Neil and Sharon had looked so happy. Blinking mutely,
Kinley
gaped at her sister, trying to process this ugly
underside to marriage. “That’s horrible.”

Becks held her glass of champagne up in an ironic toast.
“That’s life, sister. The love thing is for people without money. Two nobodies
without a cent to rub between them are perfectly free to fall in love and get
married and have a cluster of children because nothing is at stake.”

Kinley
turned slowly because her
dress was still a teensy bit tight and grabbed her phone like a comfort object.
“Hello, Ms. Hypocrite. I’m a nobody without any money now. Or have you
forgotten?”

Their father had lost everything in a Ponzi scheme. For two
hundred years, the
Kohls
had acquired money,
property, and political power. Her father had lost it all in the blink of an
eye. Then he’d gotten sick, and the need for money had become critical.

“No, you are not.” Becks wagged a finger at her. “You’re an
heiress. You inherited a majestic and vastly respected name that’s valuable to
a man like Greg. Because of you, the doors to every old-money house on the East
Coast will be open to him.”

Her name was all she had, and she was basically selling it.
“I don’t have to do this. I could get a job.”

“Doing what? You have a degree in art history.”

It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but then she’d
never thought she would need an actual job. “I could work for a nonprofit. I’ve
run our charities ever since Mom died.”

And now that money was running out rapidly. The economy had
gone south, and demand for assistance among the poor had grown. Greg said he’d
endow the charity her mother had started with fifty million dollars after their
honeymoon. He’d already started making business connections for her, including
several manufacturers willing to donate clothes for the organization at cost.
He had also instituted some changes in the way the charity ran that he swore
would make them more efficient so she could get more aid to the people who
needed it. And he was willing to pay for her father’s medical treatment and
support her whole family. All she had to do was marry him and become his
smiling hostess.

Fifty million dollars bought a lot of clothes and coats for
inner-city and rural kids. People were counting on her, and all this wanting
“more” and pining for love was hopelessly selfish.

“It’s a sweet thought,” Becks said. “But working at a
nonprofit wouldn’t pay enough. This is the only way. I’d help if I could, but
since I’m already married, walking down the aisle with a really rich, handsome
guy falls to you. Poor
Kins
.” She winked. “Brian’s
business does okay, and you know I’ll kick in what I can, but…times are tough
all around. You understand, don’t you?”

Becks had a point.
Kinley
just
didn’t like it. She sighed and forced herself to face reality. “Sure.”

“Good. For a minute there, I thought you were going to be
unreasonable.” Becks sipped her champagne. “Are you waiting on a call?”

She glanced down at her phone again, just like she did every
couple of minutes. “No. It’s just habit.”

Becks’s
eyebrow rose. “Really?
Who’s Michael?”

Someone I’ve been
wishing I could talk to all morning.

“He’s a business contact.” Becks didn’t have to say
anything.
Kinley
felt herself withering under her
sister’s judgmental stare. “I’m telling the truth. I’ve never even met the man.
How do you know his name?”

“Because I saw it on your phone earlier. He’s sent you a lot
of texts. And he’s either called you or you’ve called him at least once a day
for the last week. This sounds like more than business. How do you think it
would make Greg feel to know his fiancée is consorting with another man?”

“You spied on me?”

“I’m your sister. When, in all of the years you’ve known me,
have I ever respected things like privacy? It’s a sister’s right to snoop.” She
grinned. “So are you fucking him?”

“No! Like I said, I’ve never actually met him. He’s starting
a charity on the West Coast. He contacted me for some advice, and we started
talking. He’s a nice guy. That’s it.”

No way was she going to admit that she thought about Mike
from California way too much. And yes, she’d been looking down at her phone,
hoping he would call. Hearing his voice had become something she looked forward
to everyday because it made her smile. God, she was pathetic.

Becks shook her head. “Don’t screw up the chance to be rich
again for some guy you’ve never met. You know how much Daddy is depending on
you.”

And that was why she still stood here instead of giving into
the impulse to fly out to California and meet Mike. Everyone was counting on
her. She couldn’t abandon the future she had planned for a man she’d only known
a week. Mike seemed wonderfully down-to-earth, and
Kinley
enjoyed talking to him—but that had to be it. Somehow, she had to stop hearing
his gravelly, rough-and-tumble voice in her dreams. Heck, she didn’t even know
what the man looked like, but she got a little giddy every time he called. Mike
always put her at ease. With him, she felt interesting—and oddly cared for.
Their relationship didn’t mean anything and it was fleeting. Once his charity
was up and running, she would have no more reason to talk to him.

She wasn’t looking forward to that day.

“I know. I’m not screwing anything up.”

“Well, that’s good to hear. Keep it that way.”

A knock sounded on the door adjoining her suite with the one
next door.

Becks ignored it. “I’m going to call the caterers and make
sure the cake is ready. Is that all your luggage? It needs to be ready since
you’re not coming back here after the ceremony.”

“Yes. I’ve got it.”
Kinley
made
her way across the suite in her heavy wedding gown and opened the adjoining
door.

Her best friend Annabelle, who had stayed next door last
night, walked in—or tried. She was wearing the sheath Becks had selected, too.
While the gray looked lovely against her café au
lait
skin, unfortunately Annabelle possessed curves like
Kinley’s
.
The dress didn’t camouflage a thing.

“Hi. How are you holding up?” Her friend’s pretty round
face, framed by dark curls, softened with an encouraging smile.

BOOK: Their Virgin Hostage, Masters of Ménage, Book 5
11.07Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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