Taken: A Real Man, 21 Read online

  Taken

  A Real Man, 21

  Jenika Snow

  Contents

  Synopsis

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Epilogue One

  Epilogue Two

  About the Author

  TAKEN (A REAL MAN, 21)

  By Jenika Snow

  www.JenikaSnow.com

  [email protected]

  Copyright © February 2020 by Jenika Snow

  Photographer: Sara Eirew

  Image provided by: Sara Eirew

  Cover design by: Lori Jackson Design

  Editor: Kasi Alexander

  Content Editor: Kayla Robichaux

  Proofread: All Encompassing Books

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED: The unauthorized reproduction, transmission, or distribution of any part of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to five years in federal prison and a fine of $250,000.

  This literary work is fiction. Any name, places, characters and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or establishments is solely coincidental.

  Please respect the author and do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials that would violate the author’s rights.

  Everett

  I saw her across a crowded room. She was everything I’d ever wanted.

  She was everything I didn’t know I needed.

  It ended with a few too many glasses of champagne and both of us in an empty room, the heat rising, two bodies searching for something more.

  I only knew her first name, but that’s all I needed to know I wanted her as mine forever.

  There wouldn’t be anything in this world that could stop me from letting Penny know I couldn’t let her walk away.

  Penny

  I ran into him… literally. And instantly, I knew he was unlike any man I’d ever met. I’d consumed far too many alcoholic beverages that night, and the liquid courage and bubbles going straight to my head.

  With my inhibitions gone, I found myself sneaking off into a storage closet with a virtual stranger and doing things that made me blush.

  It was fast.

  It was hot.

  It was dirty.

  But most of all, it was perfect.

  When the night ended, I knew the fantasy would no doubt become a distant memory. But Everett had woken something up in me that I hadn’t known was asleep. And I yearned for more.

  And it seemed he hadn’t forgotten about me either… not if him showing up on my doorstep telling me I was his was anything to go by.

  Chapter One

  Penny

  As I sucked down the third glass of champagne, I actually wondered if maybe this was my fourth. My head was already starting to get good and fuzzy. The truth was, I was never good with alcohol, meaning I was a cheap date, feeling buzzed after one beer, and being shit-faced after a handful.

  And champagne made it even worse, the bubbles going right to my head.

  But being the third wheel, a pity invite from my sister and her fiancé Stewart, to this ritzy, super-posh charity event, made guzzling down free booze totally justifiable. Right?

  That’s what I told myself anyway, and I was sticking to that story.

  I leaned against the bar in the dress my sister, Claire, had given me, which had been a loan from one of her friends who was about my size. Meaning she wasn’t a size two like my sister. And despite the fact that it fit, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit it was a little snug.

  I probably shouldn’t have eaten those two tacos before I left, but damn, when a girl was hungry, she was hungry.

  And I didn’t think my go-to T-shirt and jeans everyday attire would be very welcome at this soirée, even if I would have much preferred wearing it.

  I could see Claire and Stewart across the room, no doubt kissing ass with some well-off people so they would donate an obscene amount of money tonight. This was Stewart’s event—well, one he’d helped organize. My sister had always had the luck between the two of us. Got into a great college, because she was smart and had the grades. Got a prestigious job right after graduation, which so happened to have her meeting her now fiancé, who had money coming out his ass.

  She was also pretty, far prettier than I was. Well, I thought so, anyway, and so did everyone in high school. I was always known in school as Claire’s homely-looking, not-as-smart sister. But I ran with that title and held my chin up. And it helped me in life. It helped me accept that you didn’t have to be perfect in everything you tried to do. You just had to be happy.

  And I was.

  But a part of me did envy Claire and her confidence. She worked a room like she owned it. She’d always been like that. And she was modest, never boasting or bragging, never conceited.

  I stared at her black sequined floor-length gown. God, it fit her so well and showed off how in shape she was. She had the body of a runway model. She most definitely hadn’t eaten two tacos before squeezing into that tight-as-hell dress for a ritzy gala.

  I finished off my champagne and turned around to lean against the bar. I lifted my empty glass to show the bartender and was rewarded with a slight nod as he went to refill it instantly.

  I turned around again and stared at the crowd. The room we were in was elegant, with a massive crystal chandelier that hung from the ceiling in the center and cast crystalline rainbows across the room. It was ethereal, romantic, almost drugging in the calmness of it. I had to wonder if all of this wasn’t a way to get people drunk, set the mood and atmosphere just right, and have them reach deep into their pockets.

  But hey, it was for a good cause, so I was all for that kind of subtle conversion.

  The buzz was in full effect, and if I didn’t slow down, I’d go down the territory of getting good and drunk. I really should pace myself, have a big glass of water and eat something. The last thing I wanted to do was get piss-ass drunk and embarrass myself, as well as Claire and Stewart. I might be the third wheel, a pity invite because my sister knew I sat home on the weekends and did nothing—every weekend—but embarrassing and disrespecting them was a shit thing to do.

  I turned back around and faced the bartender just as he set a new glass of bubbly champagne in front of me.

  “Can I get some water too, please?” He gave me another nod and before I knew it, he had a glass of ice-cold water sitting right beside the champagne glass.

  I drank that water in seconds flat, not realizing how thirsty I actually was. He refilled the glass before I could even ask him to and I gave him a grateful smile before turning and heading toward the hors d’oeuvre table. I had a glass in each hand, both of them cold, one to help tame my intoxication, the other meant to take me over the edge.

  I sipped on the water as my heels clacked against the granite flooring, and the sounds of all the people around me chattering filled my head. A few guests loitered around the food, so I stood off to the side and finished my water, set the empty glass on the tray of a passing waiter, and faced the food again.

  I didn’t know what half the stuff on the table was, maybe stuffed mushrooms, definitely caviar. It was all too fancy for me, but I was hungry, needed some kind of sustenance, so I might as well try it and enjoy the food I couldn’t even pronounce.

  I grabbed a plate and set my champagne glass down, picking up random finger foods and setting them on my ceramic appetizer plate that had gold leafing around the edges. I became focused on looking at
each item, in my mind trying to decipher what exactly it was I was about to eat. I was so focused that I didn’t see the person right in front of me and ran right into them, my plate tipping back and all the food that had been on it pressing against my chest.

  Shit.

  I swore time stood still as I looked down at the plate of mashed food against the dress that wasn’t even mine. I lifted my head slowly, feeling my eyes widen, knowing my mouth was hanging open. This was like a bad dream, like any minute I’d wake up and realize I’d just been thinking about it but it hadn’t actually happened.

  But nope, this was definitely a nightmare.

  I glanced around quickly, but no one was paying any attention aside from a couple people who were close enough to see what happened. They gave me a look that said they thought I was ridiculous, very out of place, and probably needed to just go home. I couldn’t blame them. I felt the same way.

  “Shit. I’m so sorry. I didn’t even see you.”

  The deep voice right in front of me startled me back to reality, and I snapped my head in his direction. I had to tip my chin up to look into his face. He was tall, taller than me even in my three-inch heels.

  He was also muscular. He couldn’t have been much older than thirty with a headful of dark hair. His face was masculine with a square jaw, and his lips were strong and full. He was clean-shaven, but I could see the tiniest outline of a shadow covering his cheeks and jaw, as if by tomorrow he’d have a nice five o’clock shadow.

  And his eyes… God, his eyes were this brilliant blue color, a sharp contrast to his dark features.

  Instantly, my body reacted. It heated, my nipples becoming hard and rubbing against the material of the dress. And between my legs? Hell, I was wet instantly, so wet I actually clenched my thighs together to try to stem off the arousal.

  I took a step back, opening and closing my mouth, no words coming out. My pulse raced, the blood rushed through my veins, and I felt a flush steal over me.

  I should have said sorry and excused myself, but instead I found myself thinking one thing.

  I wonder what he’s like in bed.

  Chapter Two

  Everett

  Goddamn, she is gorgeous. That was the first thing I thought when I’d seen her from across the room.

  Then I thought about how I wanted to fuck her until she couldn’t walk.

  The latter was probably the champagne talking, an aftereffect of downing five just to get through this night. This might be for a good cause, but shit, I felt like I was wading through a sea of wealthy assholes.

  I stared at her, the color of her hair a gorgeous strawberry-blonde. It hung in loose waves around her shoulders. My fingers itched to run through the strands, to grip the locks and gently pull her head back so her throat was arched. My tongue felt thicker as I thought about running it along the base of her throat and stopping at her pulse point.

  Fuck, I was getting a raging hard-on.

  She had a curvy little body, perfect for me to grip as I pulled her in close to me. Her breasts were big and high, round and supple. And the gown she wore dipped low enough that I could see just the barest hint of cleavage.

  Christ.

  The shade of her dress was this emerald-green, and it looked so fucking good with her complexion, the shade of her hair, the blueness of her eyes.

  And so I’d found myself walking over to the table she stood in front of, my feet taking me there on their own accord. It’s like I didn’t have any control over my actions where she was concerned.

  And when her body pressed against mine, I felt this jolt of electricity slam through me. It took my breath away and tightened my muscles. My spine went straight, my hands curling into tight fists on their own. It was an automatic reaction, this feeling, an experience I’d never had before. I’d never felt lost in arousal, had desire and need all rolled up into this one combustible ball that consumed every single cell in my body.

  For a moment, I hadn’t even realized her plate of food was pressed to her chest. I didn’t even see her shocked expression as she stared up at me. All I could focus on was how pretty she was, how blue her eyes were, how soft she felt against my body. I hadn’t noticed anything else, but then slowly reality sank back in, the sound of people talking all around us, the soft sound of the music playing overhead, even the clink of silverware on the porcelain slowly filtered in through my ears.

  I mumbled something about being sorry, that I hadn’t seen her there. It was all a lie. What I wanted to say was that I wanted her pressed up against me again, that I wanted to feel her against me, to gently touch her shoulders and see if her skin was as soft as it looked.

  But I bit my tongue and just stared at her, and as she looked at me, as time seemed to stand still, I felt lost in the unusual and potent emotions swimming inside me. What was it about her that had me feeling this pull?

  I found myself reaching out and grabbing a couple linen napkins that were on the table beside us, and before I knew what I was doing, I was taking the plate out of her hands as bits of hors d’oeuvres fell to the ground and slid down her dress. Her face was red, no doubt because she was embarrassed, although she had nothing to be embarrassed about.

  Shit happened.

  Because my mind was a jumbled mess, foggy and hazy from the alcohol and my arousal, I actually started cleaning off her dress. I instantly felt her body tighten and realized what I was doing, the napkin moving over her chest. I snapped my gaze up to hers and our eyes locked. Hers were wide, her cheeks still this pretty pink color.

  “Fuck,” I muttered under my breath, and she started to chuckle softly. “I really didn’t mean to be an inappropriate asshole. I guess I was working on instinct helping you out.” I took a step back, because I didn’t want her to think I was some kind of pervert trying to cop a feel. But she was still laughing, which gave me hope that she was pretty easy-going and accepted my apology.

  “It’s okay.” She looked around the room and then finally settled her gaze back on mine. “Truth be told, this really isn’t my scene, and this isn’t the type of dress I normally wear. So that means this is not actually mine, and the person I borrowed it from is probably going to be pissed that there are stuffed mushroom and…” She looked down at her dress, and then over to the appetizer table. “Honestly, I don’t know what half the shit on here is, so I don’t even know what’s splattered all over my chest.”

  It was my turn to chuckle and it felt good. I hadn’t laughed like this in a really long time, my focus on work and not much else. In fact, it had been a really long time since I’d had an easy conversation with anyone, let alone an attractive woman. Hell, I hadn’t had a conversation with a female in any form that wasn’t work-related in years.

  “I’m Everett,” I said and smiled, holding out my hand, although the last thing I wanted to do was for her to shake it.

  What I wanted her to do was push my hand away and step in close to my body, to give me a chest-to-chest greeting, even if I had yet to know her name.

  Fuck, I was hard.

  But she took my hand with her much smaller one and gave it a delicate shake. “Hi. I’m Penny, and I promise I don’t usually have food plastered to my body when I meet new people.”

  I stood there, knowing she’d run right into me, but wanting an introduction that seemed natural and unforced. I didn’t want to come off as some buzzed-up asshole who was trying to get into her panties.

  And then what that thought led to was... I wonder if she’s wearing panties.

  Chapter Three

  Penny

  I was pretty sure it was the alcohol giving me the courage to flirt and talk with Everett, and I liked it. I loved it, in fact.

  I’d never been a very outgoing person when it came to talking to strangers, or hell, making any kind of conversation, but I found it very easy with Everett.

  We sat at the bar off to the side, guests coming and going, moving all around us, but it was like we were in our own little world. He told me how he was i
n corporate America, a CEO of an advertising firm. Although he didn’t say so specifically, it was very obvious that he was wealthy, even if he hadn’t told me that he was a CEO. I told him about the florist shop I managed. I certainly didn’t make the kind of money he did, but I loved my job and it allowed me to live comfortably, so for me that was good enough.

  I ordered myself an apple martini even though I probably shouldn’t be mixing champagne with hard liquor. But I had this warm, fuzzy feeling surrounding me and I didn’t want it to end. I also knew it wasn’t just because of the alcohol. It was because of Everett’s company. I liked being around him. It felt easy and comfortable, and the conversation was effortless. I laughed at his jokes, even if they weren’t the funniest, even if they were a little cheesy. But he knew that, and that’s what made me like him even more.

  “So do you like working in the corporate world?” I knew nothing about businesses like that—moneymaking companies dominating certain territories. And I’d never been interested in knowing more about it until I sat here and started talking with Everett.

  God, he looked good in that suit. I’d been thinking that same thought over and over again since I ran into him. I was still flushed and heated, my body so aroused I was actually embarrassed by it. I hoped it didn’t betray me.

  He didn’t say anything for a long moment, and the way he looked at me had me shifting on my seat, very aware of our close proximity. We sat on the barstools, my knees facing him, nearly brushing against one of his outer thighs. I glanced down and couldn’t help but notice the impressive bulge he sported. It was obvious, massive. My throat tightened up at the sight and I snapped my gaze up quickly.