Free Getting Lucky (The Texas Tycoon Series, #1) by Ana Munroe Page A

nerd. She'd always been nice to him but he'd been rude to her, in fact, she'd always thought he was kind of a jerk. He'd left high school for Harvard and never looked back until he came home and struck it rich.
    What did he want with her?

Chapter 2
Lucky
    L ucky hated these charity dinners. He'd rather donate millions to a charity anonymously than attend one. However, this was his mother's pet charity and he'd promised he would attend. Determined to stick it out until dessert, he'd watched idly as the date auction began. These auctions were all the rage lately but he thought they were archaic and stupid. Who needed to bet on a girl when he'd had three of Dallas's elite slip him their numbers already this night? Sex was easy. After he'd broken out of his nerdy high school status, Lucky had discovered weight lifting. He'd grown into an athletic, lean man with a five o'clock shadow that he left because it worked for him. His one nod to his geeky past was the thick-framed glasses he kept tucked in his pocket. He found it amusing that the glasses that had once made him an outcast, now made women swoon when he put them on to read reports.
    He tapped his finger idly on the table and checked his watch. He sipped his whiskey neat slowly and watched a blonde on stage, simpering and giggling, clearly, a Dallas debutante. She was one of thousands, nothing to distinguish her, all looking for a husband, babies and a pool boy. Lucky allowed the whiskey to settle on his tongue and enjoyed the warm slide of it down his throat. He rarely drank more than two or three. His days with over-drinking were past and control was his mantra now.
    "....Macy Bradshaw!" Lucky nearly spit out his whiskey and coughed, covering his mouth with a napkin. His table looked at him and his mother thumped his back lightly.
    Could it be Macy from high school? He watched as a redhead turned the corner in a blinding green dress. His mouth went dry. There was Macy Bradshaw – the focus of all of his teen wet dreams, his sexual angst and his awkward nervousness.
    Macy in high school had been the object of many of his most prurient dreams. He knew most of the guys preferred the slim blondes with perky tits. Macy had been a contrast and he'd imagined just about every fantasy he could with her. She'd been the head cheerleader and though he hated football, he'd gone to games just to watch her body. She was all curves with an ass that he wanted to bite and breasts that hung heavy and bounced as she cheered. Macy Bradshaw running on the field to cheer had made him cum in his pants more than once.
    Lucky cleared his throat and tried to think pure thoughts. His mother was at the table after all. He watched Macy strut down stage, the green dress hugging her body. It molded her sizable breasts and her hips did a bumpa bump rhythm that pumped through his belly. When she turned and tossed her mane of red gold hair over her shoulder and shot a saucy look over it, he wanted to cry at the perfection of her ass. The things he would do to see that ass in a thong.
    Macy moved towards the entrance to the stage and dimly he heard the bidding. Without thinking, he raised his paddle.
    "$75,000."
    His mother gasped. The table applauded and the auctioneer went berserk.
    "Any other bids? Do we have a higher bidder? No? Going once...going twice...and Miss Macy Bradshaw is sold to Number 236 for $75,000!"

Chapter 3
Macy
    M acy made her way to the table to collect her wrap and her purse. She wasn't really sure what happened next. She'd been sure to check the rules of the 'date' that she was given but all the guidelines said was that she would agree to spend the day with whomever purchased the time with her. She supposed it was only a day and it was for charity. She fidgeted again. Not wearing underwear under the dress was making her hypersensitive. Again, she thanked the coverage of the sequins. Her sensitive nipples were an embarrassment for her and she often wore a padded bra to hide them.
    She