Bossy Billionaire: A Steamy Older Man Romance

by Mia Madison

  I'm wrapping my arms around his hard narrow waist as he takes corners low and fast enough to tip us right over, crashing to the road. I'm hanging on to him like my life depends on it and my clit is scorching from his lithe pelvis pressed back into my agonized lips. Every part of my body is alight, like a celebration of fireworks has gone off inside me and I'm still smoking with the embers.

  Forgetting Brand Everly and moving on with someone more appropriate is clearly not a viable option as far as my body's concerned. My lust to have him pushing inside me, to come crashing through the last barrier he hasn't yet invaded is driving me nuts.

  All of this is nuts.

  That must be why my heart is galloping fast enough to keep pace with this overpowered motorbike.

  He soon screeches to a stop, in a lot close to the water, removes the helmet then leads me across the gravel, striding with such force I have to run along in my heels to keep up.

  “What's going on? What are you going to do with me?”

  Oh god, I shouldn’t have asked. My slit starts to throb with its own ideas of what he should do. And I notice how his jaw is a sharply chiseled crest of iron, flexing with repressed fury.

  My mind is whirling and jumping up and down with questions and emotions. Brand has me firmly in his huge hand and I couldn’t snatch it away, not even if I wanted to. He gives some orders to people and just moments later, he's lifting me into a helicopter. Before I can tell him what I think of him for embarrassing me in front of my boss, getting me into even deeper trouble at my job, a headset is pulled on my head.

  “Where are we going?” I ask as soon as we lift off.

  Brand has my hand gripped in his, resting on his solid thigh but he doesn’t answer. He just stares ahead, the full play of emotions visible on his clenched face.

  Deciding to let it go until he calms down, I sit with my own roiling feelings. The views on every side are so awing I try to focus on that for distraction and just stop worrying about what's coming next.

  After a short ride, the helicopter lowers itself to land. Brand comes around to lift me down, making sure I lower my head beneath the whirring blades. He takes my hand to draw me across the tarmac to a waiting plane.

  “Oh. No,” I blub, but it's hopeless.

  He pulls me firmly along and his hand slides into my back to press me up the steps. I climb through the low door into a wood and leather white interior like I've never seen. Brand heads straight into the cockpit, gives some more orders and we start taxiing down the runway.

  I elect to slide into the seat beside him instead of the luxurious circular chairs in the cabin. I've never been on a flight deck and once again the view is amazing. Brand is amazing as he swiftly gives instruction on the headset and pilots the thing through take off.

  “Where are you taking me?” I demand to know once we level out at cruising altitude.

  Brand indicates the headset I have to speak to him through. I put it on but he doesn’t answer my question. Of course. Brand doesn’t like being questioned.

  “We can't do this,” I say very softly, not remotely convincing even myself.

  “We can and we're going to,” he grits out. “And you are never going back there.”

  “That's my job,” I gasp.

  I'm terrified now at the force of what he wants. Realizing that it might just be me. Little me, the ordinary girl from Starry Creek, thrilled to get her first job in a trendy art gallery.

  “You can get another job.”

  “They aren't that easy to come by.”

  “Then open your own damn gallery.”

  “Right. Because you think it's so simple to come up with the money to do that. Just like that.”

  “Actually I do.”

  He presses the button on his phone and the ring tone comes on in my ears because he's blue-toothed into the headset. A soft purring voice picks up on the second ring.

  “Coral Realty. Good evening Mr Everly. So good to hear from you.”

  “Good evening Coral. Likewise. Listen, I'm heading out to St Thomas right now but while I'm away I want you to locate a gallery space, wherever the hottest upcoming area is, not the snotty stuff uptown.”

  I shake my head no vigorously but Brand raises his hand to tell me to keep quiet. The realtor on the phone tells him she'll have a few places lined up by Monday and hangs up. I'm sure she's in part disappointed that Brand wasn't calling to ask her for a TGIF cocktail.

  “You're taking me to the Virgin Islands for the weekend?” I say, disbelief pouring through me.

  “We need to talk about what happened last night.”

  “So you kidnapped me to do it.”

  “Looks like.”

  “You really are an arrogant bastard.”

  “Is that the thanks I get for buying you an art gallery.”

  “You do what you want. That's your gallery you're buying, it's not me.”

  “You sell yourself short, Babe. You can't believe I would ever make you do anything that you didn't desperately want?”

  “And you think you know what I want?”

  “I know what you need. And I'm going to make you live that until you tell me you really don’t want it. Because once you taste what I have to give you, you'll never want to go without it.”

  We fly in silence. The electrical energy ricocheting between us and bouncing around the small cockpit. By the time we land I can't tell whether I hate Brand Everly or adore him.

  We exit the plane and he leads me across the tarmac. Behind a stand of gorgeous flowered trees, a stunning low house appears. He has his own friggin runway, for chrissake.

  “I don't have any clothes for the weekend.”

  “Then run around naked. It's very private.”

  “Asshole,” I mutter.

  “That kind of talk is gonna get you a longer spanking,” he says as he throws back the glass door and leads me into an expansive room filled with the light reflected on the water outside the windows.

  “You can't -”

  “Oh, but I can.”

  He yanks my hand so I go slamming into his chest and his hand twines through my hair to clasp my head.

  “Don't fight this, Jolie,” he grits out before his mouth crashes down on mine.

  Brand doesn't kiss so much as pillage. His lips plunder me everywhere, his tongue demands my surrender and I have no choice. There was never the smallest doubt that my body would say no. I need him. All of him.

  He pulls my dress open and tugs it down my shoulders, before popping my breasts free of their cups. I reach out for a touch of his incredible carved body but he pulls my arms behind me, bearing down on me with his mouth as he takes both wrists locked in one huge hand. I'm pinned, immobile while he ravages my bare tits with his free hand and mouth.

  He pulls up the skirt and slides between my thighs, rubbing my engorged clit through the soaked underwear.

  “You're so fucking wet,” he groans into my hair.

  “It's all yours,” I whimper, through gasps of the balmy warm air.

  Chapter Twenty

  Brand

  I never imagined simply being inside a woman could be such an erotic charge. The impulsive urge to bind her, to bandage her eyes so she's helpless to me is strong, is almost irresistible. I slip my fingers into the side of her dripping panties and glide across her slick folds, rubbing circles around her hard little point until it engorges fit to explode with her lust for me.

  Her head throws back as she moans and circles her pelvis on my hand. I take the chance to catch and wind a loop of her hair around the hand I already have pinning her wrists behind her. She's trapped now, her head tipped, back arched, neck exposed to my mouth. Her fabulous tits are lifted and swaying, the nipples puckered into delicious rosy blooms.

  I want all of her in my mouth at once. I want to posses her and own her totally. I take her mouth, the side of her throat, making her quiver, her eager peaks, making her moan. But nothing makes her shout louder than when I unzip and thrust my cock inside her
tight hole.

  A flare of connection ignites between us and she bucks wildly on me. I lift her with my free hand so she's impaled on my cock and I walk us across the room to ride her up against the half partition separating the sunken relaxation room overlooking the pool.

  Her pussy grips at my root, my entire length, desperate to hold me inside, wanting every part of me. My balls are already lifting, my load ready to explode into her. I focus on Jolie, forcing her to come undone, to drop over the edge and revel in the power of the pleasure I give her.

  “Come for me, baby.”

  She can't resist my command, which makes me want to explode inside her and fill her with all of me. Her tight hole clamps around me as she shatters in my arms, thrashing at my hand holding her, bucking and screaming my name.

  Her climax milks mine and one unholy hard jerk into her twitching pussy has me shooting a load into her and clutching her writhing body to my chest as we pant and gasp through impossible pleasure. She melts in my arms and pants at the air, her body limp and soft.

  “Oh my god. What's happening?” she whimpers against my bicep, turning her cheek to rest on my burning skin.

  I finally release my tight grip on her wrists and allow her arms to move freely. She wraps my pelvis with her thighs holding me lightly to her, somehow knowing I can't be restrained too hard. I'm so glad for her understanding, I stroke her hair down her back and kiss her tenderly.

  Then I carry her to the master bedroom and lay her down.

  “Stay,” she whispers. “Please.”

  I lay down and pull her back into me, wrapping my arms tight so she's caged against me tight enough that I fall asleep to the beat of her heart thumping against my ab rack.

  In the morning she finds me in the kitchen, stirring eggs for breakfast.

  “Good morning, beautiful angel,” I tell her, the grin stretching my cheeks.

  She's right – What the fuck is happening?

  I've never made a woman breakfast and I've certainly never slept beside one all night. But she looks so fucking adorable in one of my shirts, way too big for her. She hikes up onto a stool at the breakfast bar and grabs the papaya I sliced for her.

  “This was all I could find to wear. So I don't have anything else on,” she says with a teasing glint in her eyes. “At all.”

  “I like the way the weekend is starting.”

  “And I might get too hot in this.”

  “I have a stack of pareos in the pool house for guests that fancy a swim in the pool or the ocean beyond. Or you could go naked.”

  Jolie wanders outside, through the sliding glass doors, all open onto the turquoise water. She stretches her arms out and lets out a long sigh that I take to be contentment.

  By the time I bring out juice, eggs and fruit, she's changed into a wrap knotted over her breasts, naked underneath and distracting me from my coffee.

  I've doused some fresh fish, dropped from a passing boat while I ran the beach right after the sun came up, to marinate for her lunch.

  “You can cook?” she asks as though it's somehow amazing. “You don't have people to do that?”

  “I do. But I enjoy it. Food is sensuality as well as nourishment. Just like sex.”

  We lie by the pool and the pareo slides up Jolie's thighs so her pussy is bared. My dick starts throbbing and I don't know how long I'm going to be able to restrain myself from plunging inside her again. I want to get on my knees at the end of her lounger, rip her legs apart and lick my tongue from hole to hole before sucking that engorged little point between my lips.

  We nap a little after lunch, the cocktails and the heat dazing us. I wake first and go into the house. When I emerge, Jolie's stretching like a cat along the lounger, her arms high over her head. Now I definitely can't resist her.

  “I told you there was going to be a consequence,” I husk behind her head.

  She lets out a squeak of surprise as I grab her wrists, lock them into the handcuffs I pulled out then hook the chain to the crossbar at the ground. Her arms are shackled above her and I flip the pareo open so her tits and pussy are exposed.

  “I'm going to leave you like that so I can admire you until dinner time,” I tell her.

  The little wanton arches her back, one knee bent, toe pointed with her tits floating high on her chest more provocatively than any man could tolerate.

  I hear phones ringing inside the house but ignore them. Whether it's her or me someone's desperately looking for, they can damn well wait. I can't take the temptation of sliding into her again. I straddle her lounger and watch her lips turn up then her eyes grow wide as I free my solid bolt of blazing iron. I part her legs and slide all the way into her tight tunnel, eliciting another gasp as she consumes the solid heft of my prick.

  “What are you doing to me?” I groan as I pound into her.

  “Exactly what I want,” she moans, arching with her arms shackled above her head. “And I want more.”

  I hike her legs up over my shoulders so I can pummel her deeper and watch her glistening pink clit twitch under my circling thumb while I fuck her like I've never fucked anyone before.

  After, we lie in each others arms, together on the same round sunbed, for what seems like a week. I could be pressed into Jolie like this, inhaling the perfume of her hair, her skin, her sex, and never need anything else.

  “I'm starving,” she murmurs, when the moon rises up on the water.

  “I'll order dinner.”

  I extract myself reluctantly and pad inside the house. The fucking phone is ringing yet again, trying to bust up our reverie.

  “Is that me?”

  She comes dashing in looking for the small crossbody bag she wore yesterday when I snatched her. She digs it out and swipes to answer the irritating call.

  “Oh my god,” every ripple of the joy smothering her beautiful face drops away. “Is he – Oh god, yes, I'm on my way.”

  A minute later I slide the door shut and lead Jolie to the plane. I can feel how her legs are shaking as she walks, so make sure to guide her carefully and lift her over every obstacle. Soon as we're airborne, I punch in a quick call.

  “Hermione, close up the house now please.”

  The property nonsense taken care of, I turn my full attention to Jolie's needs.

  “Don't worry, my baby, I'm taking you home. Everything's going to be just fine, I promise.”

  Chapter Twenty One

  Jolie

  I want to believe him. If anyone can make everything come out alright, it's Brand, who seems to have the command of the world under his expert thumb.

  “Tell me what happened,” he says.

  As we fly toward the East coast, the plane starts to bob and weave when we enter the eye of a rain storm. I know he's saying that to keep me calm so I do what he says.

  “They couldn’t tell me much.” My lips are trembling hard. “Dan's plane landed and there seems to have been some ambush set up for the arrival. There were explosions, mines, I don't know – shit.”

  I lunge for something to hold onto as the plane drops from the sky and leaves my stomach back up above.

  “It's okay Baby. I have it.”

  Brand pilots the plane but his hands are gripping the rudder, or whatever it's called. They're so large and powerful – he has this thing under control same as everything else. I'm sure of it. Right?

  I'm shivering and quaking so hard I don't know whether it's fear for my brother or that I doubt I'll actually make it to the hospital they're flying him back to.

  Brand takes my hand and brings it to his thigh, somehow managing to control the bouncing plane with one hand.

  “Feel that?”

  I nod. He's broad and rock solid, not a quiver running through him. His confidence is infectious. We're going to be okay.

  “Good. Just squeeze when you get nervous.”

  Christ how can he be grinning when we're about to plummet out of the sky?

  “You'll have five black finger marks by the time we land.”
<
br />   “I'm sure I deserve every one of them,” he quips before adding. “Lean on me, Baby. Always.”

  I do, through every jolting hour of the flight and especially as we descend through the clouds and the going gets even more bumpy. Right when I'm certain the pummeling rain is going to throw us into a hillside, Brand pulls back and lands the plane with a rocky jolt across the runway and we slide to a halt.

  “Oh my god,” I fall out of the Cessna into his arms, limp with terror.

  He scoops my waist and half carries me to the vehicle waiting on the flooded tarmac. As usual everything is taken care of. I'm so grateful for his support this time and feel guilty about before.

  We arrive at the hospital, Brand never once indicating that he's leaving me. Only when I see my Dad and go headlong into his arms does Brand fall back. My mother hugs me too then I see her looking strangely at the man that brought me here.

  “How is he?” I demand, fraught with worry.

  “Not good,” daddy says, a deep frown etching his brow. “Some of the shrapnel from the blast lodged in his eye. They're going to operate in a couple hours.”

  “Can I see him?”

  “Yes. Doctor said we can visit briefly in a little while.”

  “Are you going to introduce us to your friend?” My mom asks, still eyeing Brand.

  I introduce him to my parents and feel my cheeks color hotly with the sudden awkwardness. How do I introduce him? What are we exactly?

  “You can go in now.” The doctor arrives, which at least breaks the tension.

  I cling to Brand, needing him with me as we pile into Dan's room.

  “It's not going to be okay at all,” I whine like a little child.

  I know it's bratty but I'm so upset about Dan. My parents hug my brother and tell him everything's gonna be okay. Then it's my turn. I force a bright smile.

  “Alright kid? You got a sudden tan in the couple days since I last saw you.” then his face turns dark, beneath the edges of the bandage around his eye. “Who's the pretty boy?”

  “This is Brand Everly. He, um, flew me up here to be with you,” I tell him, not liking how my brother's scowling.