Falling for Mr. Statham: A Billionaire Romance (Boxed Set)

by Whitney G.

  OH.MY. GOD!

  I stood up. “I can’t be here, Helen! What the fuck is this place?”

  “Club Sin. Did you not hear the man say that when we got here? Just relax, Claire. Every person in this place knows you’re about to be Mrs. Statham and that you’re off limits. Your lap-dance will be a lot tamer.”

  “I don’t want a lap-dance.”

  She rolled her eyes as our drinks were placed on the table.

  “Ladies and gentlemen.” A deep voice came over the speakers—drowning out the high frenzied techno music. “The dance floor will shut down in two hours for our scheduled ‘All Eyes’ performance. Please take advantage of it before we close off that section.”

  “Okay wait!” Kim slid all four cum shots towards me. “I think you need to toss back all of these for yourself. We need you good and drunk way before the show starts.”

  “What type of show is it?”

  “It’s a scene show. They show off different sex positions and I really need some new ones to add to my sex bucket list.”

  “Your fuck-et list.” Bobbie Jo corrected. “Toss back the drinks so we can dance, Claire. Now.”

  I sighed and tossed back the first one to loud cheers, wincing at how bitter it was.

  “Two! Three! Four!” They clapped and thrust another drink into my hand as soon as I finished the last cum shot.

  I took a few sips and before I knew it, I was being pulled onto the dance floor.

  The room was spinning and everything was blurring together—so much so that I wasn’t sure if what my eyes were showing me was true: A half-naked police officer was rubbing against me, swaying my hips to the beat as I struggled to keep my balance. Helen was grinding against two men at the same time, and Bobbie Jo and Kim were sandwiching another Greek god, rubbing him all over.

  Out the corner of my eye I saw people lining up at a different type of bar. There were no alcohol bottles or glasses hanging behind its wall: There were chains, ropes, whips, and lots of metal things I didn’t recognize.

  I watched a couple buy a long silver chain, and raised my eyebrow as they were led out of the room and through the smoke by a bouncer—to somewhere I was sure I didn’t want to know about.

  Dizzy and confused, I slowly freed myself from the stranger’s sweaty embrace and headed back to our section in VIP. I looked at my phone and realized I had a text. Jonathan: “Your new makeover is so fucking sexy. Can’t wait to see it in person. Call me as soon as you get back to your room.”

  I was too dazed and disoriented to even think about talking to him tonight. I didn’t want to slip up and tell him anything about this club. Ever.

  “Are you alright, Claire?” Kim put her hand on my forehead. “I saw you dancing with that cop. I’m proud of you! You’re learning!” She sat down and handed me a bottle of water.

  “Helen wasn’t lying to me, right? This really is the last club?”

  “Yeah...It may be just you and I walking back though.” She pointed to the corner where Bobbie Jo currently had her hand down a fireman’s briefs and Helen was grinding against a different set of men.

  I shook my head and took slow sips of water, savoring every cold drop. Just as I was finally cooling down, a stark-naked sheriff took the bottle out of my hand and positioned himself over my lap.

  “Oh my god—no...NO....NO...” I slurred. “Why is your cock out?! I don’t...I don’t want—Could you at least put your briefs on?!”

  “Don’t worry.” He smiled. “Your friends told me to be extra gentle.”

  “What?!” I shut my eyes as he “danced” against me. He was grunting and using my shoulders to brace himself, saying, “I bet your fiancée doesn’t give it to you like this.”

  When I finally opened my eyes again, he was gone and everyone was back in the VIP booth. The lights in the club were dimming, and the words “scene show” were flashing in white lights across the stage.

  “I think I’ve had enough for one night.” I stood up. “This has been really fun, but—”

  Helen pulled me back down. “Sit still, Claire. We have four more hours left and we’re using every last second! Besides, the DJ just announced that the dance troupe is going to twerk before the show even starts.”

  “Twerk? Do I even want to know what that means?”

  Bobbie Jo stood up and bent over slightly, placing her ass in my face. Then she braced the floor with her hands and proceeded to bounce her ass up and down, moving closer and closer to me.

  “Smack itttt...” She danced a few more seconds before laughing and standing upright. “Now, imagine men doing that with hard cocks and tight briefs and ahhhh...Heaven...”

  “Sounds thrilling.” I rolled my eyes and poured myself a large glass of vodka. No orange juice.

  I tossed it back and clenched my jaw as the burning sensations rolled down my throat. As I was pouring myself another one, a group of men took the stage in black briefs—briefs that perfectly highlighted their huge cocks, and they began to dance to a loud techno beat.

  They were in sync with one another, bending over just like Bobbie Jo had done. But instead of shaking their asses, they were shaking their cocks—making them touch the floor with every lowered move.

  They rubbed their hands all over their sweaty and chiseled chests, winking at the various women in the crowd. And then one by one they began to “twerk” solo, and slowly removed their briefs.

  “Oh. My. God...” We all said in unison.

  I was sure my mouth was hanging wide open at the sheer perfection of their bodies—at the delectable sweat, at the hugeness, at the—

  I shook those thoughts away and tapped Helen’s shoulder. “Do we really need to stay for the sex show?”

  “Of course we do, we’re—Oh, god!” She looked at her watch. “You haven’t gotten your massage yet. You need to get it before the parlor closes. That was included in the package.” She waved over to the bar.

  “A massage? Seriously, Helen? Are you not aware what the phrase ‘I’m-getting-married’ means? It means that I can’t act like you. And who the hell picked this club?”

  “Do you hear something, Bobbie Jo?” She ignored me. “How about you, Kim? I could’ve sworn we all discussed someone letting herself go before we stepped through that door tonight.”

  Bobbie Jo shook her head. “Nope, I don’t hear anything. But do you see that man at the edge of the stage?” She licked her lips. “God, I would love to lick his nipple piercing...and his chest...and his...everything.”

  Kim and Helen shot her blank stares.

  “Anyway...” I sighed. “Jonathan wouldn’t like me being touched by another man—especially not a half-naked one—professional massage or not...”

  “Claire...” Helen took a deep breath. “I would never, ever suggest anything that would make your crazy, jealous, and overbearing fiancée upset with you. All you’ve done tonight is dance, drink to excess, and experience the lamest lap-dance in the world.”

  “He was naked.”

  “He barely touched you. And you know something else?”

  “Good evening, ladies.” A perfectly sun tanned god stepped into our booth. “Who’s getting the massage tonight?”

  I couldn’t find any words to say. He was utter perfection—even more attractive than the men we’d seen on stage.

  Helen eye fucked him for a few seconds before looking at me again. “As perfect as this man is...I specifically made it clear that A) Your masseuse must be gay. And B) It must be a steam massage, so once again, he’ll barely touch you. Trust me, he doesn’t want you. At All...And it’s a damn shame.”

  I blinked and looked up at Mr. Perfection again.

  “I have a boyfriend.” He shrugged and reached for my hand. “I won’t hurt you. Besides, it’s only fifteen minutes.”

  I tossed back another shot and reluctantly took his hand.

  He introduced himself to me as Sean and led me down two dark hallways, into a room that scared the living shit out of me: There were whips and chain
s hanging from the ceiling, slow burning red candles that nearly covered the entire floor, and countless metal contraptions that jutted out from the walls.

  I looked around for the massage table and spotted it in the corner.

  “This is the best room available for a massage?” I asked.

  “Is there a problem?”

  “No, just...People actually come here to do this stuff?” I tugged on a pair of handcuffs that hung from the wall. “This is a sex club?”

  “You’re just now figuring that out?” He led me over to the table. “But to answer your question, yes. My ex used to get a real kick out of this. He loved it.”

  “Pain?”

  “Don’t be closed minded.” He sounded offended. “It’s the thin line between pleasure and pain that turns people on. Look, come here.” He pulled my arms up over my head and secured a rope around them. “I’ll show you a few things that you can take back home to your fiancée. Does this hurt?”

  “No.”

  He tightened the rope and the bristles started to rub into my skin. “How about now?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay, good.”

  “Good?”

  He nodded and took a few steps back. “So, right now your arms are suspended in the air and you don’t have full control of yourself. You’re submitting that remaining power to your significant other.”

  “I’m sure he would love that...” I mumbled.

  “Hmmm...How about adding this too?” He hoisted my body up from the floor by a few inches. Then he spread my legs wide and clamped each of my ankles to heavy weights. “How do you feel now?”

  “I drank a whole lot of alcohol tonight...I’m honestly not sure if this is really happening or not...”

  He laughed and walked over to a table, unwrapping a black box. “We sell pleasure kits at the gift shop upstairs, but seeing as though you’re almost Mrs. Statham, I’ll make sure you get a bunch of them for free.” He brought the box over to me and showed me a state of the art vibrator with several smaller pleasure toys.

  “Do you think you’d be willing to try some of the more daring things at home?” Sean shut the box and gestured to the other things in the room.

  “Are my eyes red? Do they look puffy to you?”

  He smiled and pinched my cheek. “I think you’ll warm up to it one day. I’ll go get the steamer and some bottled water from next door. I’ll untie you the second I get back. Hopefully ten more seconds like this will convince you to try it, right?”

  I laughed at his enthusiasm and shook my head as he walked away.

  I looked around the room again, wondering why I’d ever doubted Helen when she promised an “over the top” party. She’d truly outdone herself and the week wasn’t even over.

  I tried to move my legs and get down, but it was no use. It’d only been a few seconds, but it felt like they were falling asleep. With the amount of alcohol that was coursing through my veins, I knew I was about to pass out if I didn’t get down soon.

  I’m going to have one hell of a hangover tomorrow...

  My eyes were struggling to stay open and the heat from the candles was making me sweat. I wished he’d at least tied me up closer to the door—or at least let me face it, so I could be closer to the air vents.

  “Sean!” I called out.

  I heard the door opening and I sighed, relieved. “Look, Sean. You don’t need to give me a massage. Just cut me down from this and I’ll lie and say everything was great. I’m starting to feel a bit—”

  “Is this the type of shit that turns you on, Claire?” The sound of Jonathan’s voice made my heart race ten times faster.

  “Jonathan?!” I felt him kissing the back of my neck. “What the hell are you doing here?”

  He pressed another kiss against my skin, ignoring my question. He ran his hands up and down my sides and I could sense him smiling. “So, there was some truth in what you told our therapist about our intimacy problems? You aren’t satisfied with our regular sex?”

  “Traditional sex.” I fired back and heard him laugh.

  “I’m learning so many new things about you lately, Future Wife...First, you take exotic classes after work, and now you’re into bondage...Are there any more secrets you want to tell me about before we tie the knot? Do you strip for extra money on the weekends?”

  I rolled my eyes. “Could you hurry up and untie me, please?”

  “Untie you? Why would I do that?” He planted kisses down the exposed groove of my back. Then he secured the ropes even tighter around my wrists.

  “What are you doing?!”

  He stepped around to face me. “Were you about to let that man touch you?”

  “You’re really not going to untie me?”

  “It looks like you were about to let him touch what’s mine...” He stepped forward and kissed my lips, slipping his hands underneath the fabric of my dress. “And is this how you normally dress behind my back? This dress shows everything...You might as well be naked...”

  “Untie me. Right now, Jonathan.”

  “I don’t think so.” He kissed me again, whispering, “I don’t know who you are anymore, Claire...”

  I let out a sigh, but I didn’t get a chance to say anything further because he clamped my lips shut with his fingers.

  Glaring at me, he wrapped his other arm around my waist. “I don’t give a damn if he is gay. No other man massages you. Ever. Are we clear?”

  I nodded.

  “Say it.”

  “We’re clear.”

  He stared at me a few more seconds before letting me go. He walked over to the table and grabbed the box Sean had opened. Then he set it behind me and muttered something to himself I couldn’t hear.

  I tried to turn around and see what he was doing, but it was no use. I couldn’t move my legs, and the bristles from the rope were really starting to hurt.

  I suddenly felt him pressing kisses against the back of my shoulders, reaching around me and squeezing my breasts.

  “Have you enjoyed being abstinent this week?” He sounded amused.

  “It’s been the best week of my life.”

  “Is that so?”

  “Yes. It’s been so much fun that I don’t think I want to have sex ever again.”

  He let out a low laugh and gently pulled my head back with my hair—until I was looking up at him. “I think the last few nights have been the worst nights of your life...”

  I didn’t say anything. I kept the slight smirk on my face and looked into his eyes.

  “I think you’ve tossed and turned in your sleep—wishing I was here, so I could help relieve that longing ache between your thighs.” He lowered his voice. “And I know you’ve woken up every morning, reaching for me...” He pulled my hair a little more and pressed his lips against mine for an upside down kiss. “Because I’ve reached for you...”

  My heart fluttered and I lifted my head forward. “Please untie me...”

  He didn’t answer so I repeated myself.

  Nothing.

  ”Jonathan?” I called his name again and tried to tilt my head back, but I felt him pressing a buzzing vibrator against me.

  “Did you pack one of these in your suitcase?” he whispered into my ear.

  Yes...“No.”

  “Are you sure?” He held me steady with his other hand. “The infamous purple one was missing from your closet the other day...”

  “Were you planning to use it on yourself while I was gone? Patiently awaiting the opportunity?”

  He trailed the vibrator around to my stomach and pulled me back against him, letting me feel his hardened cock against my skin. “I thought we agreed on no self-pleasure either...” He softly bit my shoulder. “You’re cheating on me with a vibrator?”

  My voice caught in my throat as he trailed his other hand against my sides and up to my bound wrists. He started to rub his palm against the rope, chafing my skin.

  “Jonathan...That hurts...”

  He continued rubbing agains
t it, forcing the bristles to slowly tear into my flesh, and he suddenly stopped.

  I heard a clanking noise above me—the harsh sound of metal grinding against metal. Then I felt my body slowly tilting to my right—turning and turning until I was upside down with my entangled fingertips grazing the floor.

  I looked up and saw Jonathan standing in between my legs, and I swallowed. “What are you—”

  He snatched my panties off and slipped his tongue in between my legs, making me cry out.

  Ignoring my moans, he held a strange bottle over me and squeezed it—letting the warm liquid drizzle all over me.

  I shut my eyes as blood rushed to my head, as he dipped his head low again and teasingly slid his tongue into me. I started to relax as he established a torturous rhythm: probing his tongue in and out of me, swirling it against my clit, French kissing my lips...

  I felt my insides quivering, begging for more, but he stopped.

  I looked up at him in confusion—longing for him to continue, but he laughed and grabbed something off the table.

  Before I could say anything, he smacked my ass with a leather whip. Hard.

  I screamed out and he smacked it again. And again.

  “This is what you honestly like?” He placed the tip of the whip between my legs, tapping it against my swollen lower lips. “I’m not going to turn you right side up unless you tell me the truth...Is this what you like?”

  I didn’t answer. I just moaned as he dropped the whip to the floor and positioned his cock against me.

  I braced myself for the much needed sex—using what little control I had to flex my hips, but he grabbed my waist and held me still.

  “Do you know how hard it is not to fuck you right now, Claire?” He rubbed his cock against me—back and forth, again and again—but not entering me.

  I scraped my nails against the floor to deflect some of the pleasure, and tried not to cry out in utter frustration.

  I failed.

  “Please, Jonathannnn...”

  He slipped two fingers inside of me, groaning once he felt how wet I was. He slowly slid them in and out, making both of us moan with each deep stroke.

  I shook my head and bit my lip, begging him to stand me up and fuck me, but he answered each of my pleas with a tender kiss against my thighs.