Lover Wanted: A Billionaire Boss Romance

by Rylee Swann

  There is a long pause while he looks past me, maybe watching the ghosts of what he’s about to reveal.

  “Oh, Kim,” he finally says, and as clichéd as it sounds, the very weight of the world is contained in those two words. I want to hold him, hug him, take the pain away, but I just sit there and wait. “I never talk about this. You understand that, don’t you?” I nod and remain silent. I think that if I speak, he’ll never get the words out. “I was married. Happily married.”

  I gasp and then do my best to focus on the word was. He was married. He isn’t now. “Okay,” I say very softly.

  “I had the life. I was a stockbroker.” He hadn’t been looking at me, but he turns, and I see the wry expression on his face. “Yeah, me. Can you imagine? I wore a suit every day, worked with numbers, and well, I was stuffy.” He barks out a short laugh then grows somber again. “My… w-wife… she was gorgeous. Like you. We had a nice house on Long Island, and I did the commute five days a week. And we were so fucking happy.” He takes a deep breath, and I know more is coming, something worse than a failed marriage.

  “We decided to have a baby. It was time. Three years of marriage and end the honeymoon with the arrival of a kid. Everything picture perfect. She didn’t have any trouble conceiving. We used to joke that we didn’t even get enough practice in before we got the news.”

  I curl into a ball, maybe for protection from what he will say next.

  “You should have seen her. She glowed with pregnancy. I know people say that, but I swear. Her aura changed. She was an… an… angel.” He takes a breath and then plows on. “She nested, and I purchased whatever she wanted for the baby’s room. She didn’t even know how to hold a paintbrush, but she managed to paint the room a beautiful bright yellow. And she even put up stencils of ducks around the room. It was… ah fuck. It was perfection.”

  Tears form in my eyes. I want to be wrong. Please let me be wrong, but I know I’m not. I raise my hand to lay it on his arm, but pause, and drop it again. I still think that anything I do or say now will destroy the moment and Michael will clam up again.

  “When her water broke, it was like a scene out of some bad sitcom. You know. All the running around. I didn’t know where the fuck I’d put my car keys or where the hell her overnight bag was. Things like that. But we managed. We got to the hospital. The doctor met us there just like he’d promised. And then… then… Jesus. When she was dilated enough… they… fuck… they took her away… from me. And…”

  He stops talking, rubs his face with his hand, sighs heavily. His breath catches in his throat, and I know he’s trying not to cry. So am I.

  “That’s the last time I ever saw her. She died in childbirth.” He takes another shuddering breath.

  Oh god. His pain stabs me in the heart like it’s my own.

  “The baby…?” I ask in a whisper.

  He shakes his head and groans. Oh god. My heart aches.

  “When…?”

  “Four years ago.”

  “So this house…?”

  “No… I bought it around two years ago. I sold the other house as soon as I could. Took a beating on it, but I didn’t give a damn.”

  I can’t help but be glad that this is not the house he shared with his wife. But now it makes even more sense why it feels like it needs a woman’s touch. It seems somehow empty even though it’s filled with the very best furniture.

  Michael starts to stand up but sits back down. He has so much pent up energy it’s like he doesn’t know how to expel it. He opts for letting out a long breath. “So now you know. What the fuck is the point of love when something like that can happen? It was so fucking senseless. You get that? She was healthy. There was no hint that anything could possibly go wrong. Nothing. Do you understand? I won’t… can’t… put myself out there like that ever again.”

  He is crying now, the tears a steady stream down his cheeks. My cheeks are wet too. My heart is breaking for this man, and I hesitantly, tentatively, take him into my arms and offer him my silent comfort. He melts into me, returning the hug, the simple physical contact, with a mad passion. His power, strength, despair is overwhelming. I can’t breathe he’s holding me so tight, giving over to his grief. I wonder if he’s ever truly mourned.

  “I’m sorry, Michael. I’m so sorry.” The words seem so meaningless, but what else is there to say?

  After a time, he speaks. The words are so faint yet so heartfelt. “Thank you.” He straightens and stands and looks down at me. “Enough of that. Come with me.” He holds out a hand, and I take it.

  I think I know where this is heading and I’m not wrong. He’s leading me to the bedroom.

  I move up the stairs with him, an eagerness to my pace. I don’t remember what caused my tears from earlier, what led me to this moment, what had broken my heart. I don’t dwell on it; I don’t want to remember. I don’t want anything to mar this perfect moment. This perfect healing union of two broken souls.

  We reach the top of the stairs, and I see a large painting on the wall. There are four people in it. Two young men in their late teens or early twenties and two others who are obviously their parents. They’re all smiling, and I see that mischievous glint in the parent’s eyes that I know so well from Michael.

  This is a family portrait of a dark haired beautiful family.

  “You have a brother?” I ask, coming to a stop.

  He nods. “Yes, two years younger. That’s David at eighteen. What a handful he was. I had to be the responsible one or our parents would have disowned us both.” He chuckles in what I see as fond remembrance.

  “David and Michael,” I say. “Your parents gave you both such strong names.

  Again, he nods. “They’re quite a pair. And, they’ll love you.”

  I don’t have time to digest what he’s just said because he grabs my hand and pulls me into the master bedroom. It’s enormous, almost larger than my entire apartment. Everything is dark wood, big and very masculine. There’s a fireplace and the floor to ceiling windows that I’m certain overlook the ocean, but it is the bed that captures my attention.

  It is a big, bold statement that commands the room.

  Gigantic black leather footboard and headboard are interspersed with black wrought iron bars. It’s tall, the mattress impossibly plush. I think I might have to be lifted onto it. The sheets are deep red, and the blanket is black with red stripes. It is the epitome of manliness and suits Michael perfectly. I would expect nothing less.

  “Wow,” I say, and he smiles.

  “Do you like it?”

  “Oh yes, it’s perfect. Exactly how I would have imagined it.”

  His smile broadens then he bends close and nuzzles my neck. It’s like he’s pressed a button. I’m instantly wet for him.

  I start to get undressed, but he stops me. I’m surprised. I always undress quickly when we’re about to have sex. “But—”

  He puts a finger to my lips to silence me. “Allow me,” he says in that throaty growl that I love, and pulls my shirt over my head, letting it drop to the floor.

  Oh.

  He smiles into my eyes and reaches behind me, unclasps my bra, and tosses it aside. Then he steps back to admire me for a moment.

  Ohhhh.

  Oh my god.

  This is so romantic.

  My nipples pebble and harden under his appraisal, and he takes my breasts in his hands, lifting and caressing them. My back arches as his thumbs gently glide over my aching tips. I’ve never wanted him more. I’ve never wanted anyone more.

  I start to unbutton his shirt while he continues to toy with my breasts, and when I’ve revealed his gloriously chiseled chest, he wraps his arms around me, crushing me to him. Our lips come together, and I’m made breathless by the intensity of his kiss. I open my mouth to him, and he plunges in, devouring me.

  It is a kiss that seems to last a lifetime. And I don’t want it to end, but I also want more. I want him.

  All of him.

  I hungrily suck on h
is tongue, and he responds with a low approving growl, moving his hands to unbutton my jeans and slowly unzip them. He shimmies them down over my hips, and I step out. Now, only the thinnest bit of cotton separates me from his tender, probing touch. I’m desperate for his fingers to find my sex. I spread my legs as my hands explore every dip and contour of his back, but he’s not ready to give me the release I crave just yet.

  He steps back and shrugs out of his shirt. It billows to the floor as I reach for the button of his pants, but again he stops me. “No,” he whispers against my ear, sending delightful shivers through me.

  He grabs my ass in his hands and squeezes, drawing me against him. I moan and rock against him, seeking the friction. I know he’s hard. I can feel him straining against his pants. I grab his ass, pressing him close. I want, need him inside me and do all I can to tempt him to hurry.

  But he’s having none of my impatience. He pushes me away to arm’s length and looks down at me with his devilish smile before bending his head to my breast and taking my nipple into his mouth. He swirls his tongue around the pink tip, and I throw my head back, gasping at the pleasure he’s giving me.

  I brace for him to begin sucking hard and biting down but his lips and tongue are almost painfully light and teasing. I cry out with need as my breath hitches into breathless gasps. I don’t think I’ve ever been so electrified and every feather light touch of his sends orgasmic thrills coursing through me.

  We stay this way for an eternity.

  Finally, he slowly lifts his head and finds my lips with his. He kisses me lightly, gently, tracing my lips with his tongue until I look up at him, pleading with my eyes for him to take me.

  Have his way with me.

  Fuck me.

  Make love to me.

  He pulls back and looks at me, a sexually hungry yet thoughtful expression on his face.

  “Do you trust me, Kim?”

  “Yes,” I say without hesitation and reach for him, but he steps away and disappears into his closet.

  In a moment, he returns with two silk neckties. Taking my hand, he leads me to the bed. There are a couple of steps that I hadn’t noticed, and I climb them as he guides me until I’m lying flat against the cool, crisp sheets. He takes one of my breasts in his hand and fondles it before stepping away and taking off his pants. His cock bulges from his white jockeys, and I lick my lips in anticipation.

  He moves onto the bed beside me and takes my hands in his, raising them up above my head.

  “I’d never, ever hurt you, Kim,” he says.

  I meet his eyes. “I know. I trust you.”

  With that invitation, he ties my hands to the wrought iron bars.

  “They won’t be tight,” he says. “This is our first time doing something like this, so I’m just giving us the illusion of your bonds. You can get free anytime you want with just a little tug.”

  I’m sure I won’t ever want to get away, but I don’t tell him that.

  When he finishes, he trails his fingers down my body, swirling around my erect nipples to my stomach and then to my inner thighs. I writhe at his touch, and when his fingers dip under the waistband of my panties, I moan and raise my hips. This time he complies, and with agonizing slowness, lowers my panties to my ankles before removing them entirely and tossing them away.

  I spread my legs wide for him, and he smiles before getting off the bed and taking off the last barrier between us. Finally freed, his cock jumps up, long, thick, hard and ready.

  I’m ready too. So ready.

  He looks down at me, his dark eyes shining and glinting with mischief. “I like how you look spread-eagle on my bed,” he says, and I buck my hips up, enticing him, begging him to touch me.

  In a quick, fluid motion, he’s on top of me on hands and knees, covering me but not touching me. I desperately want to feel his weight, and I whine a little in my throat.

  “Not yet,” he says and inches his way down my body until he is crouched between my legs. He places a hand on my stomach and forces me to relax into the mattress. I gasp at his touch and spread my legs even wider.

  Then his hands are on my thighs, spreading my pussy wide, and my breath catches in my throat. He bends his head low, and I can feel his breath on my sex. I’m writhing now, and he looks up at me as he takes my clit into his mouth. I cry out and shudder as he starts sucking on it.

  “You’re delicious, Kim,” he says, just like he said the first time we met, and I smile even as I lose myself to him, all rational thought fleeing me.

  He sucks a little harder, then starts an exploration of my folds with his tongue. I want to wrap my hands into his hair and press him even closer into me, but my ties, no matter how symbolic, prevent me. I sink into the mattress unable to do anything but experience what Michael is doing to me, how he is driving me wild, and into planes of erotic existence I didn’t even know of. He’s in complete control, and I suddenly understand the allure and pleasure of being bound.

  We stay this way for an eternity.

  He knows me so well that he can keep me at heights of pleasure that threatens to send me to heaven but prevent me from having that blissful release.

  I want, need to explode, and I cry, gasp, moan, shudder, my body slick with sweat. I know he wants me to stay motionless, to let him do all the work, and it is with effort that I keep my hips pressed into the mattress, my hands curling into fists around the cool wrought iron bars of the headboard.

  “Now, Kim, now,” he breathes against me. “Come for me, now.” He sucks down hard on my clit and plunges his fingers into my channel.

  On command, I cry out as shudders wrack my body. I buck and writhe through the most intense orgasm of my life, thinking I might just die before it ends.

  In another moment, he enters me with his cock, and I cry out breathlessly with another orgasm or a continuation of the same one. I can’t tell the difference, and I don’t care as I’m lost to sensation while he thrusts deeper and deeper into me.

  At last, my shudders start to subside, and he holds himself still inside me, giving me a chance to calm, to catch my breath. Then he starts to move inside me again, slowly, gently, in and out, in and out, rebuilding the waves of pleasure in me again.

  We’ve never done it like this before. It’s almost like… like… Oh my god.

  He’s making love to me.

  Is he making love to me?

  We stay this way for an eternity.

  I cry and gasp as the waves of intensity start to crash into me, another orgasm wrapping its tendrils around me. Michael looks at me, his sun bronzed sweat slickened skin glistening. “Ready, Kim?” he murmurs, and I nod, not sure what to expect.

  He bares his teeth in a predatory smile and bends his head to my breast. Biting down on a nipple, he thrusts hard into me, and I scream in shocked surprise. This is the sex I know so well with Michael, and I open myself up to it as he thrusts harder and deeper until I think my body is splitting in half.

  I think I can’t take another second when my orgasm rips into me, and with a grunt and a growl, Michael comes hard too. He holds himself deep in me, his muscles taut as I clench his cock with my pussy as it spasms around him. Spent, he collapses beside me, both our chests heaving as we struggle to come back down.

  “Jesus, Kim,” Michael rasps and reaches up to remove his neckties from my wrists. “You’re amazing.”

  Freed, I roll over and spoon myself against him, and he drapes an arm around my shoulders. I want to stay like this forever.

  “Michael?”

  “Hmmm?”

  I glance to a big oversized chair in the room. It’s empty, really empty. There’s no voyeur here, it’s just Michael and me. I’m glad. I don’t miss the third person at all.

  “Why did you do all this? Why am I here?” I think I know what he’ll say, I know what I want him to say, but I’m a girl and need to hear the actual words.

  Michael shakes his head slowly back and forth. Reaching out a hand, he caresses my cheek, breathes in deeply a
nd lets it out in a soft sigh. “I did this because I’m in love with you, Kim. I have been from the second I laid eyes on you.”

  Thunder and lightning crash as if voicing its approval, and rain beats against the windows with renewed energy. In my brain, rain becomes categorized as a good thing, a wonderful thing. I will always love the rain.

  This is a moment that replaces that other moment we had a while back. What was that other moment? For the life of me, I can’t remember.

  My mouth opens, then closes, then opens again.

  Michael watches me, and I think he might be dying inside, waiting for me to say something.

  I don’t make him wait any longer. “I love you too, Michael. Oh, how I love you!” I throw myself into his arms, and he pulls me close. Our lips find each other, and we kiss. We kiss, madly, passionately, for long minutes that turn into eternity. Time loses all meaning. I’m lost in this man and need nothing more than what he’s giving me right now.

  Who would ever have thought that things would turn out this way? Surely, not me. In my deepest despair, I found exactly what I didn’t know I wanted, needed. Who could have imagined that answering a Craig’s List ad under the casual sex section would turn out to be my salvation? Thank god for the mysteries of the universe and all that.

  Finally, we come up for air. We’re smiling, and life sparkles in Michael’s eyes, and I’m sure mine are the same. We’re happy. We’ve found each other.

  Who am I?

  I’ve asked myself this question many times, but now, finally, I think I have an answer.

  I’m a strong, independent, loving, caring woman. And the happiest person in the world.

  “What do we do now?” I ask.

  He kisses the tip of my nose. “I think a glass of wine is called for, don’t you? Chardonnay is your preference, isn’t it?”

  He smiles, and I laugh.

  “Yes, it is.”

  We both laugh, then he pulls me in for another kiss.

  EPILOGUE

  Michael

  Six years later…

  “Daddy, Daddy!” The little five-year-old dynamo we call Lucas tackles me awake. To be honest, he’d already woken me by crashing into the bedroom and slamming the door against the wall.