Billionaires and Bad Boys: The Complete 7-Book Box Set

by Nikki Chase

  On the first day, after she confirmed the deposit had gone into her bank account, she looked especially nervous. She sat on the couch in her room, frozen, acting like whatever was on TV was the most interesting thing in the world. She was wearing the same thing she did when she came to see me at the office: a pair of sweatpants and a loose T-shirt. If she thought those clothes would put me off, she was wrong.

  I let her think it worked, though. The contract says she's supposed to wear whatever I tell her to, but I didn't have to enforce that right away. There was no rush; she was going to stay here for a whole month.

  She was probably wondering why I wasn't doing anything to her when I’d paid her a fortune for the opportunity to do whatever I wanted. What she doesn’t seem to realize is, when you’re accustomed to the finer things in life, you stop worrying about value and focus on quality instead.

  I know exactly what I want from her. I know it’s going to take some time to get there, and I’m okay with that.

  So, on that first night, I peeked into her room, said hi, waited for her response, and left her alone for the rest of the night.

  I bet she went to bed all anxious, thinking I could come in at any time to ravish her. When it didn't happen, she must've started wondering what was wrong, if I was still attracted to her, if she was going to drive me away with her sweat pants and lose the remaining $125,000 that she hadn't received yet.

  On the second day, I came home and didn't say much, but I gave her a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates from the florist in the office building. That must've gotten her wondering about whether I was trying to romance her. I told her I was going to have supper and invited her to join me if she wanted to, but she never came.

  On the third day—yesterday-—she did come to join me at supper, although I didn't invite her...or was it exactly because I didn't invite her?

  I asked her to tell me stories about herself, about where she’d gone to school, what kind of jobs she’d had in the past, if she’d ever gone abroad. She told me everything enthusiastically, animatedly even.

  She'd been quiet up until that moment. After days of isolation, she finally needed another human being to talk to. That human being was me. Another one of my little plans working as it should.

  Tonight, I’m not even going to check her room when I come home. I had a business dinner before coming home, so I’m going straight to bed.

  Let's see how she reacts to that.

  This is working out better than I could've expected.

  I’m on my way to get a document I left in my Mercedes, when I see Daisy standing alone in the dark kitchen.

  Before she realizes I’m here, I creep behind her, making her jump. I touch the fabric of her loose shirt and keep going until my hand touches her narrow waist. I hold her tight with my hand on her belly.

  I feel her muscles tense, her breathing erratic. I can even feel her heart beating quickly against my chest.

  With someone else, I may mistake this for fear. But this is Daisy, and I can read her like a book. There's lust in her frantic heavy breathing.

  When I press my hand into her belly, she gasps ever so slightly, a sharp intake of breath, an involuntary one. She shivers—another involuntary reaction. Even if just a little bit, she's losing control over her own body and giving up that control to me.

  Her soft, warm little body feels delicious against me. She's so much smaller than me. It makes me want to protect the shit out of this delicate flower, but she has also struck that primal part of me that wants to drag her to my cave and plunge my hard cock into her.

  I’ve always loved the feeling of gaining control over a beautiful woman's body. And this time, with Daisy, it feels more intense than ever.

  I thought I’d lost this feeling forever. After that bad break-up with Trish, I couldn't find it again with another woman. Until now.

  Daisy's body grows limp. She's leaning against me on her own now, having lost control over her legs. She loses her balance and I hold her tighter, snaking my hand up to rest on the valley between her tits. My palm feels every little palpitation of Daisy's heart.

  She's letting herself be vulnerable. This is submission in its purest form, instinctive and natural. This is like breathing to her. This is the only way her body knows to react.

  I knew it the moment I laid eyes on her. I saw the signs. I’ll show her how good it can be, make her virgin body do things she has never even imagined.

  Gradually, her tough exterior will crack, and she’ll be mine. I’ll own her, not just the body she has signed away for one month, but also her mind, her thoughts, her desires. That's what domination is about.

  She's not ready for me to fuck her yet, but that doesn't mean I can't show her a good time. I can tell she's primed for me to push her limits a little more.

  With my free hand, I sweep her long, honey-brown hair over her left shoulder and plant a light kiss on the column of her neck. She shudders.

  A small moan escapes her lips as my hand travels down her navel to grab her between her legs, hard. I knew she'd like it rough.

  “That's a sexy little noise you’re making,” I whisper.

  She's not the only one who's aroused; I’m fucking horny, too. I'm hard as stone, straining the fabric of my pants.

  “You’re making me hard, kitten.” I press my growing bulge against her ass, letting her feel what she's doing to me, letting her feel the heat, the hardness, and the heft of my cock.

  With the apartment as dark and quiet as it is, there's nothing else competing with me for her attention. Her world is my body all around her and the marble floor she's standing on.

  She just needs the slightest stimulation, the lightest touch—my breath on her neck, my hard cock pressing against her ass. One of my hands feels up her tits through her thin cotton shirt, while the other one rubs her through the sweatpants.

  Her breathing gets heavier, faster, more urgent. I can sense her disappointment turn into fear and excitement when I take my hand off her pussy, only to slide it down her pants.

  “You’re wet. Just as I thought you’d be.” I place my lips right against her ear as my fingers slide back and forth between her legs, her folds slick with her own juices.

  I kiss her neck as my fingers zero in on her clit. She gasps loudly and her body tenses in my arms. She starts to shudder. I pick up my pace and pressure and finish her.

  She moans—a long, loud one this time. She's been stopping herself from letting any noise out, but she can no longer stifle herself. She has lost too much control over her body now to hold back. We're past the point of no return. I hold her in my arms, keeping her upright, as she shivers and gasps and clutches onto my arms.

  “My dirty little flower,” I say.

  Slowly, Daisy regains her balance. When she's strong enough to stand on her own, she pushes against my chest.

  She avoids my gaze. When I catch a glimpse of her face, I see a tasty cocktail of surprise, satisfaction, and sheepishness. Her cheeks flush red, as much from the orgasm as from the embarrassment.

  I let her go. For now. It won't be too long now until I give her a real freshly-fucked glow.

  Daisy

  I’ve been hiding in my room for three days now.

  I haven't talked to Caine, since his skillful fingers gave me an orgasm in the kitchen, aside from a quick hello every night when he got home.

  That night, I was just looking for a midnight snack while he was supposed to be asleep. How did he even know I was there? Is there a hidden camera in this room?

  I look around the bedroom, my gilded cage. I’d never slept in a place this luxurious before coming here. It's more spacious than my living room, with a bigger TV and a much nicer couch. The bed has a wrought iron frame with intricate loops in it. The bedroom floor and the walls of the ensuite bathroom are marble.

  I never see anyone other than Caine in this apartment. When I need something, I'm supposed to send an email to Sasha, the assistant with the bird’s nest hair, and it appe
ars mysteriously at the doorstep in an hour or two.

  I’ve mainly ordered food this way. I guess I could try asking for expensive clothes, designer bags, or jewelry, but I don't feel right making big purchases with Caine’s money without asking first.

  I knew I was going to have no contact with the outside world, but I never thought it was going to be hard.

  I’ve never lived alone in my life. I went straight from my mom’s house to the apartment I share with Katie. I had no idea how lonely big, empty spaces can be. Even something as small as the echoes of my footsteps on the luxurious floor reminds me of how alone I am, and how vulnerable.

  I wonder if this is some kind of leftover primitive instinct. Humans are social creatures who have always banded together for safety from the elements and wild animals. Maybe it just feels wrong to be separated from my tribe.

  Now, I'm desperately trying to join a new tribe, but the only person around is my opponent in this dangerous game.

  I know I have to see Caine soon. He hasn't even seen me for three nights in a row.

  I wonder if he's regretting having paid such a big sum for me. What if he changes his mind and refuses to pay the $125,000 he's already promised me? The contract is for the sale of my virginity after all, so there would be no transaction if we didn't have sex, right? I wouldn't be fulfilling my part of the bargain.

  It wouldn't all be my fault, though. I’ve been here for a whole week and Caine's barely made a move.

  I wonder if he always keeps a girl here, if this is just normal day-to-day life for him. Maybe he pays girls six figures all the time just to live with him. Maybe those girls have no problem begging him to fuck them.

  My heart clenches at the thought of Caine with some other girl. He's a lot older than me, so he must've had a lot of experience. He can't have gotten that good at manipulating the female body without lots of practice. I know all these things, but still the thought bothers me.

  My ears prick up at the sound of the front door being opened.

  He’s home.

  My heart jumps wildly in my chest.

  Damn it, sounds like he’s going back to his room straight away tonight.

  God, I’m so fucking bored out of my mind I’m about to explode.

  Know what my big realization is, after seven long days alone in Caine’s fancy apartment?

  My whole life, I’ve always been busy. I was always multi-tasking. Hiding from Mom’s latest annoying boyfriend and studying, studying and working, working and fighting with Mom about letting Jack stay with me, consulting a lawyer and paying Mom, getting into debt and selling myself to get out of that debt…

  I don’t know what I’m supposed to do here, and it drives me up the damn walls. I have to do something that’s not watching TV or rummaging through Caine’s drawers—which, by the way, are mostly empty anyway.

  As much as I hate to admit it, I need human interaction. And that means…Caine.

  I take a deep breath and walk out of my room. I stand in front of Caine’s door, my heart hammering so hard in my chest, my whole body shakes.

  How am I supposed to face him after what happened that night? The way I behaved was so shameful, moaning and panting like a bitch in heat, like I actually liked it, like I so very obviously enjoyed it.

  What must he think of me?

  “I can see your shadow, you know.” Caine’s voice filters through the door, deep and dripping with temptation. “Come in.”

  My cheeks feel hot. This is the worst entrance ever. Well, there’s nothing left to do but to turn the handle and open the door…

  “Can I help you, kitten?” Caine looks straight at me, giving me that smirk that makes me weak in the knees.

  I almost gasp at the sight of him. He’s still wearing his business suit. His body is draped lazily on a big emerald-colored armchair with a glass of whiskey in his hand. He’s perfectly relaxed, yet he manages to look like a painting at the same time.

  “You’re not having supper tonight?” I ask.

  “I’ve eaten.” He studies me with his deep, dark blue eyes. That penetrating gaze always makes me feel so naked around him, like he’s constantly analyzing me.

  “Oh. Um, okay. That’s all I came here to ask,” I say.

  “Wait,” he says before I have a chance to close the door all the way. “Come in. Close the door behind you.”

  I do as he says.

  “Did you want to have supper with me?” He looks at me intently, like I’m the most interesting thing in the world to him right now.

  “Maybe.”

  “Did you miss me?” His smirk grows wider, his eyes are twinkling. He’s teasing me.

  “Not really,” I say stubbornly. “I’m just bored.”

  “Bored, huh? Why don’t we play a game?” Once again, I see the predator in him, about to pounce on me.

  And the worst thing is, a part of me wants him to do it. I want him to choke me with his desire, make me forget about living, until all I know is the dangerous creature in front of me—the lure of his bait, the piercing cut of his claws into my flesh.

  “What game?” I ask, intrigued. I shudder at the promise in Caine’s eyes. I don’t know what to expect, but that only makes this more exciting.

  Caine flashes his rows of perfect teeth. He almost looks friendly, if not for that darkness in his eyes. He puts his glass down on a side table. He pats at his thigh. “Sit here.”

  I pause, hesitating for a moment.

  “You’re here to work, remember? This is part of the agreement.” He watches me intently as I weigh my options. As if he knows what’s on my mind, he says, “You can say no and go home if you want, but you won’t be getting the remaining payment. That’s only fair, wouldn’t you say? I’m not asking for much here.”

  I nod gingerly and step toward him. The closer I get, the faster my heart beats, as if my entire body is trying to warn me to stay away from him.

  Still, I persevere. I plop my ass down on Caine’s left thigh. With one arm around my shoulder, he pulls me close until I’m leaning against his chest, listening to his unhurried heartbeat.

  “What’s the game?” I ask, trying to break this tense silence.

  He gently shushes me and rubs my arm soothingly. “Relax,” he says.

  I didn’t even realize how tense my whole body is. Being around this man activates my fight-or-flight response. He brings out my basic instincts. I try to loosen myself, let myself melt into Caine’s warm body.

  I feel so small and protected when he’s surrounding me like this. But how can that be, when he’s just another person taking advantage of me?

  “That’s better,” Caine says. “The game is getting to know each other. You can start by asking me a question. I’ll answer, then I’ll ask you a question.”

  “Okay.” I can do that. I ask, “Why don’t you have anything in this apartment? You don’t have food. Or pens. Or books. Or even just pieces of paper.”

  “Do you need more food? Or books?” Caine frowns, deep lines forming on his forehead.

  “No. I mean… I mean, it’s like your apartment has everything and nothing at the same time. You don’t even have clutter.”

  “I have a cleaning lady,” Caine says with a shrug of his broad shoulders. “And I only come home to sleep. And eat, sometimes.”

  Fair enough. I guess rich people can outsource everything, including the collecting and maintaining of stuff. No wonder this place has no soul.

  This apartment is not a home. It has everything you need in the short term, like a hotel, but nothing indicates that it’s suitable for anything long term.

  It’s like Caine in that way. Hypnotizingly beautiful exterior with no soul.

  “My turn. What have you been doing all day?”

  Somehow, the question makes me laugh. He’s asking me about my day? The mundane question, against the dramatic backdrop of his temporary ownership of me, seems absurd.

  “Anything funny?” Caine turns toward me and plants a gentle kiss on my te
mple, as if I just did the most fascinating thing.

  “No,” I say, shaking my head. “I’ve been watching TV, mostly.”

  I guess I’m lying by leaving out the bit about checking out the drawers, but if he doesn’t have anything in them anyway, it shouldn’t matter to him.

  “My turn.” I take a deep breath and build the courage to ask him the question that’s been burning a hole in my brain. “Do you always have girls living here, like I am?”

  “No,” he says.

  “Have you ever done this before, though?”

  “I’ve already answered one question, kitten. I’ll answer you, but I’ll ask you two questions as well.” Caine places one hand on my knees and strokes up and down my inner thighs. His touch sends tingles up my legs and goosebumps all over my body.

  I nod.

  “I have,” he says.

  I curse myself for asking him yes-or-no questions. Okay, I’ll be more prepared next round. I look at Caine, challenging him. “Your turn.”

  “Okay. What’s a good girl like you doing here, with someone like me?” His eyes have darkened. With a confident smirk on his face, he parts my legs so I’m straddling his thigh. He pulls me closer until my head leans back against his chest. We’re not playing anymore.

  My heart pounds against my rib cage. I wonder if he can feel it. I swallow and steady myself. Just like he has done, I’ll answer this with a short sentence so there’s no chance for my voice to falter.

  “I need the money,” I say.

  Caine rubs the juncture of my thighs over my pants. God, how does it feel so good? I’ve never felt that good down there.

  Now, before you can say, “Duh, Daisy, you’re a virgin,” let me just say that I’ve played with myself pretty extensively. Just because I haven’t done it with a guy doesn’t mean I’m not horny.

  This feels nothing like that.

  When Caine touches me, my nerve endings come alive and send crackles of sinful pleasure straight to my core. Everything fades away until all that matters is the ache in my pussy that’s yearning for release.