Can't Buy My Love: Billionaire and Virgin Romance Collection

by Jamie Knight

My father kept going on about how my education should’ve gotten me more opportunities. My mother kept going on about how that education was one of the best in the world and that America, of all countries, should not be the country to profit from it. She wanted me to stay in England, where she said I belonged.

  But I couldn’t turn down the job at McKenzie Technologies ten years ago. There was just something about it that yelled at me to apply.

  A little voice in my head said, Apply for this now, Melissa. Or else you’ll never get your chance to see outside your own backyard. So, I followed my gut and applied.

  To my complete surprise, I was not only offered the job, but Kane McKenzie, the CEO of the company, agreed to pay for my moving costs. Kane even paid for the first month of payments for my new condo. It was that act of kindness that helped me work for a man who has become one of my best friends.

  My entire family- my mom, my dad, and my two brothers- were just as critical as you would expect. They didn’t encourage my dreams but instead all they did was repeatedly list all the reasons why I shouldn’t go. Over and over, they repeated why I would do so much better in London if I just applied myself a little more, acting like the problem was with me rather than with scarce job opportunities in the area, but my mind was already made up and my heart was already set. I already knew I needed to go work for this company — McKenzie Tech. And so, without my family’s blessing, I moved here.

  I set up my life here slowly but surely, and now I’m not just “scraping by.”

  I’m thriving in my professional life.

  Now, if I could only do the same in my personal life.

  A little over a year ago, I met the man of my dreams. Dennis was different than the CEOs and rich men that I was surrounded with in my work life. He rode a Harley and often wore a leather jacket. The bad boy vibe was too much for me to resist.

  So, I fell madly in love with him, even though, a few months into our relationship, his work moved him to Paris. He remains committed to me, despite the fact that in the last year, I’ve never flown out to France, and he’s never come back to Manhattan to visit me.

  We’ve been doing the long-distance thing, over our computers. Which is why I’m sitting in front of mine right now, with the video-chap program open on it. I’m waiting for him to call — even though it is night in his time zone — as is our routine. We usually have this phone call at the beginning of the week, and then one on Friday night. That one is where we get a bit more intimate and dirtier.

  Even now, my heart is racing while I wait for him. I’m smiling just thinking about seeing his face and hearing his voice. But I’m also getting a little worried, too. Dennis is running a little late. A lot later than usual.

  I take a moment to drink my tea. It’s not the usual green, red, or black variety. It’s a special caffeinated variety derived from particular tea leaves only found in the Amazon, or somewhere like that. Probably more like some of the regions of South America, but I don’t really care. All I care about is that it gives me my morning boost of energy without too much sugar or calories.

  As I sit there sipping on my tea, listening to the early-morning sounds of birds and commuter traffic outside my window, I take a moment to reflect on all my good fortune and on how much McKenzie Tech has grown.

  Back when I started, it was just mostly accounting. It’s grown astronomically since then. Due to all these new partners that have joined, and then mergers with financial and consulting companies.

  That’s a new thing that started happening within the last six months to a year. Actual whole companies, merging with us. This means I have tons more work to do as one of two secretaries to the CEOs.

  But it’s good. It means a lot more hours for me and a lot more time to talk to my best friend and fellow secretary, Isabella, who is the secretary to Ashton Smith, the second CEO.

  I smile again, thinking about all the good things I get to tell Dennis when he calls. Now that I think about it, I have a lot of good news to share with him and a lot of things I think he’ll be happy to hear.

  If he ever gets on to have our little video chat, I think irritably, looking at the clock.

  He’s now over ten minutes late.

  I know he has his own routine, but this is ridiculous.

  Part of me is getting more irritated by the second, but another part is beginning to get anxious and nervous.

  Unless…unless, he forgot.

  This thought is truly an unsavory one. Both because I don’t think that Dennis would ever forget, but also because if he did — if he wasn’t able to keep his word — then that would be a sign that something more serious had happened — something out of his control. I don’t like those kinds of thoughts.

  Those are the kinds of thoughts that make me sometimes regret his move to Paris. I always have a part of me that fears that something will happen to Dennis while he’s away. Like I will lose him to something, or someone, and I will never know what happened because I’m thousands of miles away.

  But, as if my knight in shining armor heard my worried thoughts halfway across the world, I suddenly see Dennis’s screen name pop up. I, and my heart, give an audible sigh of relief seeing him there and knowing that he hasn’t forgotten.

  I giggle a moment later when an incoming call from him pops up on my screen. The video of Dennis shows up immediately after the moment I hit the “accept incoming call” button.

  He’s just as handsome and rugged as I remember. He’s still got his breathtakingly-blue eyes. Ever since the night I met him, I’ve had the same thought. His eyes were fashioned from one of the big sapphires in King Louis XIV’s collection. That’s how deep and sparkly the color is. It’s like nothing I have ever seen on another man.

  What makes his eyes even bluer and more beautiful is the long, shiny locks of black hair flowing around his face. Though he’s in what looks to be a fairly normal t-shirt and sweater combo, his hair is allowed to fall in wild waves — like the fashion model he is.

  But his face, oh my God! Though I’ve looked into those eyes, surrounded by that beautiful mouth and nose, that delicately strong chin, thousands of times, it never ceases to steal my breath, and my heart, away.

  It’s his voice though, the deep gruffness of it in conjunction with his looks, that has the most effect. It makes me melt for him, even though he said nothing more than “Good morning” to me. That simple greeting really warms me up. It hits me in just the right spot. I’m breathless, and it takes me a moment to connect to my brain.

  “Thank you, my love. And the good evening to you!” I look at him, just happy to have him to look at.

  I lean forward, spying a bit of wine next to him — probably his after-work glass. We always used to do that together when we got home from the office.

  Some of my friends used to tell me that I could just stay home and be his “wife” and not worry about keeping a job of my own, but I didn’t want to be that dependent on him or that helpless. Plus, I like my job and I have career ambitions I don’t want to throw away.

  “Have a good day at work?” I ask him.

  Dennis nods.

  “It was okay,” he says. “Busy. Ridiculously busy for what is supposed to be a Monday, the first day back from work, but I guess that’s what you get when you are in as much demand as me.”

  I laugh, unable to tell whether he’s proud or irritated by that fact. Tellingly though, he doesn’t join in. Dennis doesn’t even crack a smile when he hears me giggling. And that usually does it for him, especially if he is having one of those “bad days.”

  I really don’t know what was up with him.

  It’s starting to bother me, and not just a little bit.

  Sure, my boyfriend might look lovely. But I’m starting to think that inside, he can be a real asshole!

  Chapter Two - Melissa

  Dennis just sighs. He gives me a scowl unworthy of anything I’ve done and says, “You wouldn’t be laughing like that if you had to d
o a job like what your bosses have to do.”

  I’m so surprised by his gruffness, his meanness, that I actually sit back in my chair and put my hand to my heart.

  “You’re just a secretary. You don’t really know how much work everything else is.”

  “Dennis!” I pause, unable to get myself to think or speak for a moment.

  I’m not used to him being so short-tempered, and over such a little thing like a giggle.

  “You're so mean right now!”

  I pause again, searching his face for a good reason for this behavior. I want to see some indicator of what or who could have possessed him to act this way.

  “I wasn’t trying to make light of what I see now is obviously a very difficult day for you, sweetheart.”

  I lean further in, feeling fragile. Not only because he still looks upset with me, but because I’m starting to feel guilty. I feel bad for having a little laugh since my boyfriend obviously felt it was at his expense. Not because I thought he was adorably flustered-looking or anything like that.

  “And there’s no reason to bring in my job into the conversation like that! I know it’s not the same as yours, Dennis, but it’s not not work!”

  I shake my head vigorously after I say this, wanting to get out of this confrontation. A fight has no business starting between us this early in the game, or this early in my morning.

  “It doesn’t matter, anyway. I don’t know why you’re so grouchy, honey, but let me make it better, hmm? Let me tell you how sexy you look; how handsome you are. How lucky everyone at that agency is to have someone like you working for them.”

  I pause, seeing some of his irritation soften.

  “And when I laughed like that, it wasn’t at you, honey. It was just because I thought your face was so cute when you said what you said about not knowing whether it was a good or bad thing that you were so busy.”

  He stares at me, saying nothing, with his lips pulled down in a tight scowl.

  “I was looking forward to talking with you, Dennis.”

  I sigh, looking at him like my most precious jewel.

  “I’ve been waiting anxiously this morning to talk to you, wondering where you were, worrying about why you were late,” I add, hoping he hears me and knows how much I love and respect him.

  “I was late because of all that work I was telling you about,” Dennis says finally, although this time, he doesn’t sound angry.

  He sounds a bit depressed. He looks a bit sorry as well, or regretful. About what, I’m not entirely sure. My mind immediately says it’s because he snapped at me, and I accept that faster than I should.

  “I’m sorry I was running late. And I’m sorry that I got after you like that.” He takes another sip of his wine and then brings his hands up through his long hair. “It was unfair of me, Melissa. Forgive me?”

  “Of course, I forgive you, my love,” I say, eager to get away from those unhappy feelings of mine.

  There are dark rims I can see around his eyes. I see some odd darkness around his lips and cheeks as well, but I don’t say anything about it. I’m just happy to be talking with him, and I just want our time to stay good and loving. I’ve waited long enough this morning for it, after all.

  But, as I look at my clock, I realize I am running out of time.

  I need to be off to work soon.

  Dennis looks like he doesn’t deserve my easily given forgiveness. He seems reluctant to accept it.

  He pulls away slightly, but before I can read too much into it, he says, “Thank you, dear. Thank you for being so understanding. I really, really appreciate it.”

  He blows a kiss at me, through the screen.

  Believe it or not, I actually feel this on my lips, as if he actually kissed them instead. I immediately flush, and my pussy starts to ache for him.

  He pulls away, giving me the most in-love look I’ve ever seen on him. It’s as if that kiss had more of a transformational effect on him than it did on me. It’s like it’s changed him into a completely different person. A person who doesn’t have a care in the world, or a job that might be sucking his soul out of him.

  “You’ve always been a sweet one like that. Patient and kind,” he says, as if he’s just now realized what I’ve been giving him for over a year through our long-distance relationship, and even before then.

  I lean forward and kiss my monitor. I kiss it more than once, actually. I always like to outdo him this way, when I can. So, he gets three separate kisses, and now it’s his turn to chuckle under them.

  “Mmmm,” he moans, letting me hear much more than just “I miss you” in his moan. “Such a beautiful mouth and lips. I forgot how beautiful and plump those are. I wish you could do more with that mouth than just kiss me.”

  My pussy wakes up a bit more at the tease in his words.

  “I know. I wish so, too,” I say, pulling away from the monitor, and giving him a bit of a pouty face. The one I use to use on him a lot when he and I lived together, and I was role-playing as his maid in an apron. “We could if my Dennis would just come home.”

  I put emphasis on come but I don’t stop what I’m saying. “If he would just—”

  “Come to Paris like you promised me,” finishes Dennis, looking a little drunk on wine and love, but also looking frustrated with me at the same time.

  He punctuates this with a hefty gulp from his wine glass.

  “If you did that, then maybe my dick wouldn’t be so lonely.”

  His tone is gruff and deep again, but this time, I’m caught between feeling horny and ashamed. I’m not sure which emotion I feel more. It’s enough to make me fidget in my seat.

  “If you miss me so much, Melissa, and if your boss pays you as well as you constantly tell me every time I bring up the fact that you could do so much better for yourself than being a secretary, then you could fly yourself here. Come to Paris for a while.”

  I nod, not sure if I have any right or reason to respond. Sure, I could say the same thing back to him. I could say so right now, but that wouldn’t do any good — not in the interest of keeping this conversation a good one.

  I do decide to say one thing, however. I say it quietly, demurely.

  “You could come back to New York. I would fly you here, Dennis.”

  “No.”

  The suddenness and harshness of his response makes me sit up. I hold my breath.

  “No,” he says again, trying this time to not sound so mean or frustrated. “I don’t want to come to America, Melissa. If I wanted to come there, I would have gotten a job there. But I have no interest in being there. Even on vacation. Even with my girlfriend.”

  I take a shallow breath, nodding. “Fine.”

  That’s really all I can say. It’s not fine. Not really, but what else can I say?

  I clear my throat, though I really feel like crying. My desire is not completely gone, but it is waning. I feel so unsupported by Dennis, when that didn’t used to be the case.

  Sure, I know some of it has got to be from how stressed he is at his work, how irritated he is with being buried with all these shows and all these demands, but that doesn’t excuse this, does it?

  That doesn’t give him a free pass with this, does it?

  I don’t think so.

  But I’m not going to tell him so.

  There’s no point.

  It would just cause us to argue, first of all.

  Second of all, I don’t have the time. I have to go to work. If I don’t leave now, I will be late.

  “I’ve got to go, Dennis,” I say.

  I try to keep my voice soft and free of pain or anything that he might take the wrong way.

  I do my best to give him a smile, another little kiss, though I don’t lean forward to give it to him.

  “I’m sorry to run out on you like this, honey, but I’ve got to get to work.”

  For the first time since we got into this conversation, Dennis looks energized.
He is totally and completely behind this idea, and in a way that I find odd. I would think he would be upset at me; grouch or complain at me for having to leave him like this, so abruptly, but he looks completely fine with it.

  “Work’s important,” he says. “No harm done, Melissa.”

  He leans in a bit.

  “Listen. I don’t mean to be so hard on you, dear. But America’s not your lover. I am. Remember that when I say I’m tired of you not coming here.”

  I nod, feeling a little better and worse, at the same time, after his words.

  “I understand, Dennis.” I smile a little guiltily. “I like it here, though. You’d understand that, I think, if you come back here. If you visited in person, and are reminded of all the wonders that New York has to offer. If you met some of my friends, you would like them too, I think.”

  Dennis replies with a hmmm, and I take this as my queue to leave.

  “I’ve got to end this, for now, Dennis, but do you want to connect on Friday? Your Saturday afternoon?”

  “That’s our routine, is it not?”

  “Yes,” I say, “I just want to make sure you’re aware of what our agreement is.”

  Here, I’m not able to keep my resentment and confusion at bay. I’ve started thinking and having feels about all of his mood swings.

  “I haven’t forgotten our agreement,” he replies, sounding just as snappish.

  “Fine, then I’ll talk to you again in a few days.”

  “Fine.” Dennis moves a lock of his hair behind one of his ears. “In a few days.”

  “I love…” Before I can finish saying what I was going to say, the call drops.

  Or rather, Dennis hangs up.

  “…you.”

  I sit there for a few moments, completely blown away by his behavior.

  How could he just hang up on me like that without even saying something like “I love you” at the end?

  He always says that kind of thing.

  I can’t think about it for long, though. I do have to get to work. And that requires me to get up from my desk, grab my things, and get out to my car. That’s a bunch of things I’m not going to be able to do if I’m sitting around here, completely dumbfounded by my boyfriend.