Billionaire on Top

by Stern, Sophie

  Does he know how much easier I could make his life if he let me?

  Does he know that I give amazing hand jobs? They're better than the coffee I brew. That's for damn sure.

  I slump into my desk chair and stare out the window. For so long, my life has been dull. I’ve been the nerd. I’ve been the bookworm. I’ve been the girl who didn’t really sleep around, so didn’t get the experience my peers have. I’ve been boring. I thought taking this job would be something different, something that would help build my confidence, something that would inspire me.

  Little did I know just how much it would change me.

  In my first week working here, I managed to go completely insane. I somehow was able to completely forget about my morals. Getting naked in front of a stranger? Not even being embarrassed? Who am I? Who have I become?

  I’ve never been a prude about sex, at least not in my opinion, but I’ve never been exactly blasé about it, either. The few boyfriends I’ve had have never been rude or mean about our sexual activities. They’ve never seemed to be overly impressed, either, I realize.

  I place my head in my hands on my desk, not caring that it’s going to mess up my hair and Trevor hasn’t seen me yet.

  How will I ever be enough for him?

  I like him. I really, really do.

  To say we don’t have any chemistry would be a complete lie. There’s something there. Something. What it is, exactly, I don’t know. I just know that when I’m around him, I feel completely alive. When I’m around him, I feel like I could fly and float and die all at once, but that everything would be fine.

  But he’s Trevor Fox.

  He’s a billionaire.

  He’s used to sleazy sluts who know exactly how to use all of that equipment I saw in his dresser drawer.

  He’s used to girls who can handle Big Tom.

  He’s used to something I’ll never be.

  And the thought of it breaks my heart.

  18.

  Trevor

  I’m pacing in my office. Pacing. I’m pacing. I’m acting like a brand new businessman. I’m acting like it’s my first day at work. I’m acting like someone just threw me for a loop, but oh, did she ever.

  I was not expecting Allison. I wasn’t. Sure, I figured we would probably fuck at some point. I make it a point to be quite welcoming to all of my new employees, but she makes me feel more than just horny.

  She makes me want to be better.

  Stronger.

  She makes me want to protect her.

  Her and that innocent fucking smile.

  Part of me thinks of going to Club Blaze tonight and finding a surrogate. Part of me thinks that having the chance to spank and tease and lick someone half as gorgeous as her will suffice, but the rest of me knows that I’m lying to myself.

  No one could ever replace her.

  I’ve been jerking off so much lately that my arm is sore, and I know I can’t wait much longer for the real thing: her.

  I can’t wait much longer to have her wrapped around my cock, bouncing up and down with my hands gripping her hips, thrusting up into her. I close my eyes and picture her bent over my desk in one of those skirts she likes to wear.

  So why am I holding back?

  What’s stopping me from kissing her?

  What’s keeping me from pushing her down, tearing her clothes off, and sliding into her?

  Morals?

  Is that what this is about?

  I kick my desk before slumping into my chair. It’s not about morals. Trust me: I’m all about ethics when it comes to my business, but when it comes to women?

  I’m not so pure.

  No, my reason for not fucking Allison is much more simple than having good morals. It’s fear. Fear that she might change me. Fear that she might make me better. Fear that she might be the one woman who can push me into being a good person.

  And I’m not quite ready to let that happen.

  19.

  Allison

  I manage to avoid him the entire day.

  And the next day.

  And the next.

  By Thursday, I’m wondering if I do, in fact, still have a boss, because I haven’t seen him at all this week. All of our communication has been done over the phone or through email. Anything he’s had to say to me, he has managed to say without facing me.

  And while part of me is relieved, part of me is freaking out.

  What is my deal with Trevor Fox?

  For a girl who usually doesn’t masturbate, I’ve been touching myself a lot lately, just trying to get him out of my head, just trying to get myself to stop thinking about him. Somehow, all the vibrators in the world won’t wash away the scent of him. Somehow, the endless hours I’m putting into viewing porn online isn’t cutting it.

  Because when I close my eyes, the only person I see his Trevor.

  The only eyes I see are green.

  The only hands I want on my body are his.

  And then reality sets in and I remind myself that I don’t have a chance. I really, really, really don’t have a chance.

  I make it home from work in one piece, somehow managing to keep it together. Holly is practically bouncing off the walls when I walk in the door.

  “What’s going on?” I ask, not really caring what the answer is.

  “Bruce asked me out.”

  “Who?

  “Bruce!” She jumps up and down. Literally. “From the bar last weekend! Remember? The manager? Super hot? Super cute?”

  “Oh yeah?” I ask, suddenly interested. “What happened to good ol’ Quinton?”

  “Eh,” Holly waves her hand and makes a face. “Turns out, he started seeing someone else shortly after our last date. Who would have thought?” She shrugs, trying not to let me know that she’s hurt he moved on so quickly.

  I wonder, for a second, if she should take some time to recuperate from her heartache.

  Though I think it’s crazy she’s suddenly into Bruce, I realize that I’m doing the exact same thing with Trevor. We barely know each other, but I’m already fantasizing about picking out Christmas gifts with him.

  I’m already thinking about how our tree will look.

  What the hell is wrong with me?

  Forcing myself to focus on Holly, I manage to ask, “So you’re going out with Bruce?”

  “Yeah. We’re going to dinner and then this bar he likes to hang out at. Bitter Jupiter, I think.”

  “Huh.” I shrug. “Never heard of it, but the bar scene isn’t really my thing.”

  “Now I have to decide what to wear,” Holly moans, finally collapsing on the couch. “What to wear? What to wear? Tell me what to wear, Allie.”

  I laugh. “Something cute. Something tiny. Something that shows off your tits.”

  She rolls her eyes. “So, anything I own?”

  “Basically.”

  Holly heads into her room to start pouring over her wardrobe and I make a sandwich for dinner before heading into my room. I actually brought some work home tonight so I wouldn’t have to stay late at the office. I know Trevor is going to be working late, and right now, after this whole week, I kind of just want to be alone.

  I’ve almost finished my turkey-and-cheese sandwich when my phone starts ringing. And ringing. And ringing. At first, I ignore it, thinking it can’t be anything important. Finally, though, I pick up without looking at the caller ID.

  “Yeah?” I answer, my mouth full of food.

  “Allison?” It’s Trevor and he sounds desperate.

  “The one and only.”

  “Did you take some files home tonight? Please, please, please tell me you have the files on Demers.” One of Trevor’s top clients is coming in for a meeting tomorrow. The file spent the entire week open on his desk so he could memorize facts. That is, until I brought it home tonight to finish typing up some details.

  “Relax. I’ve got it. I didn’t know you needed it tonight. I brought it home to type up the notes from your last conference call.”
/>
  I hear him sigh a breath of relief.

  “Good. Good. Good. Oh shit, I was worried there for a minute. Listen, any chance you can bring it back to the office? I’ll send a car. I’m still here and probably won’t get out of here until 9, at least, but I need to review it once more before tomorrow.”

  Looks like my days of hiding are over. I’m going to have to see him, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it.

  Only, I absolutely, very much, positively, completely like the idea of us being alone together.

  Who knows what could happen?

  “Yes,” I tell him. “I’ll bring it by. You don’t need to send a car. My roommate can drop me off.”

  He must be swamped because he doesn’t argue with me over how I get there. He just agrees and hangs up, so I hurry into the other room to ask Holly for a ride. I really should buy a car, I realize, but I can walk anywhere I need and our public transportation system is amazing. So far, I haven’t really needed one.

  “Holly,” I say in my sweetest sing-song voice.

  “What do you want?” She asks, not looking up from a pile of lingerie she’s pouring over.

  “Can you give me a ride?” I ask.

  She raises an eyebrow before snickering.

  “Gonna spend the evening with Mr. Sexy after all, huh? Yeah, give me five minutes.”

  20.

  Trevor

  What is she thinking, walking in here like she owns the place?

  I catch my breath as Allison steps off the elevator and heads into my office with the file.

  “Here you go,” she hands me half of it. “I need the other half to finish typing up your notes before your meeting. I’ll finish it up in my office, then bring it to you.”

  Without waiting for me to say anything, and without making eye contact, she turns and heads back into her own office.

  And I’m left needing.

  Great. I’ve been avoiding her all week and she obviously got the message: fuck off. Only, that’s not the message I was trying to send, at least not to her. Allison has no idea how broken I am, how much pain I’ve had in my life. She has no clue what I’ve gone through or that my dad completely depends on me to run this company for him. She doesn’t understand the pressure. She doesn’t understand what it’s like to try to live up to his name.

  But even as I think it, I wonder if she might.

  Allison Byard might be as beautiful as an angel, but I’m guessing even she has secrets.

  And I’m just the man to discover what they are.

  Does she like to be spanked?

  Does she like to be bitten?

  Does she like when she’s tied down, unable to move, and licked from asshole to clit?

  What gets her going?

  What makes her moan?

  I’m done with the charade. I’m done with trying to fight off the never-ending boner. I need her. I need nothing but her. Only her. And all of her.

  I finally stop messing with the Demers file and head into her office. She’s leaning over her desk, biting her bottom lip as she transcribes my notes. Damn if she isn’t completely perfect. Her brunette hair falls over her shoulders in soft curls, gently drawing my eyes down to her cleavage.

  I want to see her naked again.

  I need to.

  “Allison,” I say from the doorway. She looks up immediately, obviously surprised.

  “Yes, Mr. Fox? What can I do for you?”

  “Come here.” I say. She looks confused, but does as I ask. When she’s standing right in front of me, I simply look at her. She meets my gaze, staring up into my eyes, not asking the question I can tell is dripping on the edge of her lips. What are you doing?

  I place one hand on her waist and the other on her cheek. Her eyes immediately close and a moan escapes her lips. Oh yes, she wants this. Suddenly, I wonder if she’s been avoiding me all week the same way I’ve been avoiding her. Has been thinking about this? Has she been thinking of all the ways I want to claim her mouth and devour her? Has she been thinking about writhing beneath my hard cock, helpless to escape from the pleasure?

  I’m about to find out.

  I lean down so that our lips are almost touching. I can feel her breath against my mouth. Her breasts heave with every breath. She’s trying hard not to gasp. I can tell.

  “Allison,” I murmur, my lips gently grazing against hers.

  “Mr. Fox,” she says in response. Her arms are still at her sides, her eyes still close. Allison Byard has a lot more self-control than me. I hesitate for one the briefest of seconds before pulling her into me, pressing my mouth against hers, and releasing the passion that’s been building up between us.

  She doesn’t let me down.

  Allison lets out the softest, sweetest sound as our lips melt together. She opens them and I slide my tongue inside of her, dancing beautifully with her own, exploring her. My hand grips her cheek tighter as I finally give in to the impulses that have been building inside of me since the moment I saw her. There was a time and a place for control, but this is not it.

  Not anymore.

  I let my hand drift down to her breast and the other finds her ass. I squeeze her into me even more tightly, more passionately, letting her know exactly what I think of her.

  Her hands aren’t at her sides anymore.

  21.

  Allison

  Trevor Fox is kissing me in the best possible way, but inside I’m freaking the fuck out. When I came back into work tonight, I didn’t expect this. Granted, I wanted it. I really wanted it. All of my recent fantasies prove to the entire world that I wanted it, but it’s so much better than I imagined.

  His tongue probes my mouth, exploring every inch. He tastes like peppermint and whiskey: an intoxicating mix. I keep my eyes tightly closed, afraid that I’ll open them and find that this is just a very, very good dream. I don’t want this moment to end. I can’t let it end.

  But it ends.

  “Allison,” he murmurs, pushing his forehead against mine.

  I can’t open my eyes. Not yet. I can’t bring myself to.

  “Allison,” he says again.

  “Yeah?”

  “Come home with me.”

  It’s not a question, but he doesn’t have to ask me twice. I’m more than ready for this, though part of me can’t believe it’s real. Me? Why would Trevor Fox be interested in me? It’s just for one night, right? Of course, it’s only for one night. Am I ready for this? Am I ready to be one of those girls who is comfortable with just one night?

  I’ve had a few relationships and I’ve always considered myself a good, albeit awkward, girlfriend. I’ve remembered the birthdays, dressed up for the dates, put out after a couple of them, and always used protection. I’ve met the moms. I’ve met the grandparents. I’ve attended the weddings, the funerals, the reunions.

  But I haven’t done the one-night-only-no-regrets-nothing-more thing.

  Not until now.

  And now I’m wondering if it would really be so bad.

  Would giving it up to Trevor Fox for one night really be such a horrible thing?

  Of course I’m not his usual type. I know this. I understand it. Trevor likes blonde bimbos with huge fake tits and tiny butts. I am none of those things. My hair is long, but it’s boring old brown. My breasts are full, but real. And my butt is…cushy. It’s cushy. It’s not tiny. I might go to the gym, but not that much. It’s not that small.

  Could he really be interested in fucking me?

  I take a deep breath. What’s the worst that could happen? I know he doesn’t like me in a relationship sort of way, but I’m guessing that Trevor Fox knows his way around a woman’s body. When I’m beneath him, taking his entire length in me, moaning and screaming and asking for more, will I care that it’s just for one night?

  “Okay,” I say finally, after what feels like hours of silence. “I’ll come home with you.”

  22.

  Trevor

  It’s happening.

  Tonight is
the night.

  After what looks like an insanely intense internal fight with herself, Allison agrees to come home with me. And fuck if my cock isn’t already hard and throbbing and ready for her.

  I forget all about my meeting tomorrow and take her hand, leading her downstairs. I look for her car before remembering that her roommate dropped her off.

  “I’ll drive,” I say. “Do you need to text Holly?”

  She nods, silently, her eyes big. Is she surprised I remembered her roommate or surprised she agreed to come home with me? She slides into the passenger seat and pulls out her phone to send the text. I say nothing as I try to get home as fast as possible.

  I’m aching.

  Allison is beautiful. She’s one of the most incredibly beautiful women I’ve ever met in my life. Now I finally have the chance to show her what she’s been missing. Sure, she’s had sex before. Of course she has. But she’s never been fucked the way I’m about to fuck her. She’s never been pounded the way my cock is going to slam into her wet pussy. She’s never been taken the way I’m about to fucking own her.

  She’s in for a treat.

  But so am I.

  We make it to my place in record time and I take her hand as I help her out of the car. She shivers, just slightly, at my touch. Good. Now I know she'll be receptive to the way I'm about to touch her inside, the way I'm about to make her moan and sweat and cry my name.

  Each step to the door feels like an eternity.

  Each step feels like eons.

  I can't take it anymore.

  I need her now.

  So I push her against the side of the house and kiss her.

  "Trevor," she manages to squeak out, but it's no use. I have her now and I'm not letting her go. No more second guessing. No more wondering if I'm good enough for her. No more asking myself why she makes me feel weak in the knees. No more.

  The only thing that matters now is the two of us. The only thing that matters now is having her naked against me, writhing around with pleasure.