Everything He Demands

by Thalia Frost

  Everything He Demands

  (Bookkeeper for the Billionaire, #3)

  Thalia Frost

  Copyright: Thalia Frost, September 2012.

  All rights reserved as per copyright law.

  Cover Art: Sexybooks.com

  Editor: Em Petrova

  “That wasn't so bad.” I walked out of the airport with Rock into a steaming heat.

  “Welcome to Venice in July.”

  “Wow. It's a lot hotter and muggier than California this time of year.” I pushed my hair back from my forehead. A sleek limousine rolled up at that moment.

  “Here's our ride. After you, Ms. Pate.” Rock winked at me, sending heat to my toes as he guided me toward the limo, a hand at the small of my back. A porter had our bags and stowed them.

  “Mr. Weldon. I trust your trip was pleasant.” The heavily accented driver came around and opened the door for us.

  “Spectacular. But I'm starving, Luigi. Could you take us to Gino's? Are you hungry?” he asked me.

  “Famished. I hardly ate on the plane.”

  I'd been too occupied with...other things.

  “And Luigi, this is Ms. Pate. She's my new bookkeeper.”

  Luigi nodded respectfully. “Pleased to meet you. Welcome to Venezia, miss.”

  “Thank you.”

  Luigi closed the door gently. A moment later, we pulled out into mild traffic.

  “Wow. I had no idea what to expect. I thought there'd be more people.”

  Rock shrugged, leaning against the window, staring out. “More than usual since it's summer but Venice is nice and quiet. That's part of its charm.”

  I smiled at him. The look of worry had settled back over his features. “It's going to be okay, Rock.”

  He pursed his lips. “I don't know about that. And call me Mr. Weldon for tonight...until all hell breaks loose with the announcement of our,” he paused for emphasis, “engagement.”

  Heat rose in my cheeks. “Of course.”

  The familiarity I'd enjoyed with him on the plane had evaporated upon our arrival. Is this really all he wants from me—a faux fiancée and someone to do the books?

  I took a deep breath, resigning myself to the gorgeous view out the window. The afternoon sun blazed, and people walked the streets, haunting lovely shops. Perhaps I'd get a chance to see some of them myself while I was here.

  Rock's hand on my thigh brought me back to myself. “At least there were no paparazzi at the airport. They're not so bad here, but they'll spot us soon enough.” He grimaced. “I have a nice, private room at the restaurant, though, as usual.”

  “Oh.” The thought took my breath away. Wine, pasta...and Rock were on the menu, maybe.

  His hand slid up my dress farther, and heat pooled between my legs. “We're almost there. Pity.”

  He pressed a button. “Luigi, please drive around the block a couple times. Ms. Pate and I would like to take in the sights.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  My breath caught. Did this man ever get enough? I knew I didn't, not of him.

  “We're passing the Piazza de San Marco. We'll see it tomorrow if you'd like.”

  I nodded, my pulse hammering as street lights reflected in his dark eyes. “I'd like that.”

  “There's no place like Venice. I love the history here and the way the city smells...and its romance.” His voice was a seductive whisper now, and I broke into chill bumps.

  The limo rolled to a stop a moment later. Luigi came around and let me out. Rock took my arm after he'd climbed out as well. “Here's Gino's. Best food in Venice, or close to it.” The melancholy music of a violin floated down the street toward them, and for a moment, a pang of longing for home ripped through me.

  I'm in a strange country with a sexy but enigmatic man, and tomorrow I'm to be engaged to him...falsely.

  “Penny for your thoughts, Ms. Pate.” Rock snugged my arm closer to him, and the feel of his body pressed against my own as we walked electrified me.

  “Ah, Mr. Weldon!” The host bowed deeply.

  “Yes, please show us to your private room if it's not occupied.”

  “No, it's not. Your driver called ahead and indicated that you might be dining here.” The host smiled.

  “Luigi never fails me.” Rock grinned and steered me inside.

  “I get the impression you usually get what you want,” I whispered as we passed tables and murmurs rippled through them.

  “Usually? Always.” He brushed my hair with his lips, sending tremors through me.

  “Here we are, sir. Your waiter will be with you shortly.” He seated us in a room full of crystal and a few white-clothed tables. Mirrors were on every surface of wall and ceiling, which made for a dizzying effect.

  Then he closed the double door behind us.

  “Wow. This is really something. I'm surprised you're not regaling me with your mastery of Italian.” I leaned on the table, closer to him.

  “I'll tell you a secret.” He winked, and I admired his glossy dark hair under the chandeliers.

  “Yeah?”

  “I suck at foreign languages. Always have.” He shrugged.

  I giggled. “It's good to know you have one area of weakness.”

  He pursed his lips. “Many, actually. I trust people too easily, and my past gives me trouble even now.”

  “Oh.” I looked down at my place setting. I'd put my foot in my mouth.

  “Don't feel bad about it. Growing up in an abusive home helped me develop a killer instinct.” His eyes lit up.

  “Yeah, but what else did it do?” I put a hand on his arm, and he flinched.

  “Sorry.”

  “It's fine. I brought it up. I just don't like talking about it.”

  At that moment, a handsome, thin waiter appeared and relieved the tension. Rock remained a mystery to me—a sexy man who wanted me but who had more secrets than I'd be able to tease out in one dinner.

  Rock ordered a red and white wine and more water. “Anything else you'd like to drink?” he asked me, studying me over the menu.

  “A Diet Coke maybe.”

  He smiled, and the waiter nodded. He placed a basket of steaming bread and a bowl of olive oil before us.

  “Enjoy. I'll be back to take your order.”

  “The bread is excellent here.” Rock took a piece and dipped it in olive oil, looking into my eyes. Something about the action was erotic, and my body tingled.

  “What do you recommend?” I studied the menu. It was in Italian and English, luckily.

  “The trout scallopini and canolis. Definitely. Or anything else on the menu. Everything is excellent here.”

  “Sounds yummy.” I smiled at him, realizing how much I was enjoying his company.

  “Not as yummy as you.” He dipped his finger in the olive oil.

  What is he doing? Bad manners for a billionaire CEO.

  He brought his finger to my lips, and I took it in, sucking. Warmth spread through me, and bread was the last thing on my mind.

  “The things I could do with a little olive oil.” Rock smirked at me as I squirmed in my seat. He let his finger slide from my mouth. “In a few minutes...after the waiter takes our order.”

  I nodded. No way he's planning to do me here where anyone could walk in and see us.

  But the glint in his eye said otherwise.

  When the waiter returned, I found myself distracted. All I could think about was Rock bending me over the table and having his way with me.

  “Take your time with the food,” Rock said to the waiter, his tone brooking no argument.

  I knew the command would be heeded as all Rock's orders were.

  “Hmm. You've done this before, I guess,” I said in a shaky voice, chewing a piece of bread t
hat seemed stuck in my throat.

  “Never. I've never been with a woman who made me want to.” Rock's gaze smoldered with desire.

  “Oh.” I put the bread down, all thoughts of eating gone.

  “I want you against the wall.” His tone had grown terse as he took my hand and gently pulled me up. My legs threatened to buckle as he stood beside me.

  “But what if—?”

  “Don't worry about anything. I could buy Gino's if I wanted to. Any damage will be minor.”

  I wasn't sure about that.

  He pulled me into his arms, kissing me hard even as he backed me up toward the wall. His hands were all over me, tangled in my hair and then down the front of my dress as if he couldn't stand not to touch me.

  I moaned with arousal, my whole body flushed with heat. I wanted him inside me, and I didn't care if anyone walked in. The control he had over me frightened me a bit, but I couldn't think coherently about it with his hand against my ass.

  I hit the wall with a thud. His fingers behind my head ensured that only my back and butt made contact. I gasped.

  “You okay?” He released me from the kiss, his voice ragged.

  “Yeah. I think so.”

  “Good.” He whipped his jacket off and left me there against the wall, gaping. He sauntered back to our table. “I love olive oil. It's so smooth and...healthy.” He leered at me.

  My God. What is he going to think of to do with olive oil?

  But I had some ideas.

  “Don't you?” Rock grabbed the bowl and scooted a chair near me. He set the dish down and unfastened his pants, letting them fall to the ground around his ankles.

  “Yes,” I squeaked.

  He pursed his lips as if unsure whether to believe me. “Get on your knees.”

  I complied, having to hike my dress up a bit to do so. My pussy tingled at the sight of his cock outlined against his silky boxer briefs. I briefly felt self-conscious that I'd only managed to sponge off and freshen up in the lavatory on the plane. The scent of his cologne and of sex still clung to me.

  As if he were reading my mind with that uncanny ability I'd seen in him before, Rock whispered, “I want you just like you are, and I'm not waiting till after we eat dinner.”

  I closed my eyes at the intensity in his voice.

  “I want you to look at me when you take my cock into your mouth.” His words were harsh. “But not yet. I have other ideas first. Come closer, Lacey.”

  Arousal rushed through me.

  There were a few feet between us, so I had to scoot toward him on my knees. His gaze caught mine, and heat prickled my body. I stopped less than twelve inches from him. His cock was level with my face.

  Slowly and deliberately, he reached for the dish with the oil in it. My heart thumped madly, and I wondered if I'd have a stroke. I'd never been so hot and in turmoil. What if someone walked in on us?

  Rock slathered oil on his palms, a wicked grin on his face. “Perfect.” He took his cock in hand and began stroking it. He bit his lip, never breaking his stare into my eyes.

  I moaned softly at the sight of his long fingers on his cock.

  “Touch your pussy, Lacey. Show me how wet you are.”

  I hurried to comply with him, tugging my dress up where he could see my tiny panties and garters. I slipped my fingers inside the lacy strip of fabric, finding my clit. I bit my lip, circling the nubbin.

  “Finger yourself. You're so sexy, Lacey.” Rock's speed had increased a bit as he slid his hand up and down his cock. The sound of his flesh and the oil together made me shiver.

  My clit was already on fire as I moved fingers inside myself. I groaned at the sensation and at the desire I saw in Rock's eyes.

  “I want you to make yourself come. Show me how much you like my cock.” Rock raised one eyebrow, his pace never slacking. “I love to watch you. I need to watch you.”

  I heard that need in his voice, and my breath caught. I already stood on the precipice of orgasm. I'd never been watched and wanted by a man like Rock before and certainly not like this—in an upscale restaurant in Venice in a private room.

  I swirled my fingers over my clit, faster now, and his hand on his cock worked more quickly as well.

  “That's right. Make that pretty pussy feel good, Lacey,” Rock crooned.

  At the sound of his voice, I shouted my release. I fell forward and clung to Rock. His hands tangled in my hair, oil and all, and I couldn’t have cared less. I reveled in the feel of him combing through the strands as I kissed his inner thigh.

  “I need you, Lacey,” he growled.

  I clasped his cock at the base and looked into his eyes, so dark and mysterious.

  “I'm close. Finish me off. I want to come in your mouth.” He touched my face, trailing his fingers down my cheek.

  I nodded and gripped his cock harder, eliciting a moan from him, which thrilled me. Swirling my tongue around the plum-shaped head, I smiled.

  “Don't tease me. I can't wait. I'm going to burst. Watching you made me crazy.” The words were terse.

  “Right, boss,” I whispered and took him into my mouth—all of him.

  “Oh, yes. That's right.” He sighed as I moved up and down on his hard shaft. The oily taste of him only turned me on now. I thought of how he'd looked stroking his cock. He gripped my hair hard as I sucked him hard.

  “Dammit, Lacey. How do you do that?” He shouted his orgasm moments later. His hot cum pulsed into my mouth, and I swallowed it with pleasure.

  He relaxed his grip on my hair, and I licked the last beads of moisture from the head of his cock, my lips lingering there on the salty spot.

  Rock was still for a moment, and only the sound of his breath filled the room. “Ready to eat?” He helped me up, a big smile on his face.

  “I am.”

  “Me too.” He helped me straighten out my dress, and I watched him zip up and tuck his shirt in.

  He turned me around to face the mirror. “We look great.”

  “If a little dirty.” I giggled, feeling strangely comfortable with him even though we were from different worlds, surrounded by mirrors in a posh restaurant.

  We settled back at the table, holding hands on top of it.

  “I'm so glad you came with me.” Rock winked at me.

  “As if there was a doubt in your mind I would resist,” I spoke, a bit of resentment making its way into my voice.

  “You always have a choice, Lacey. We all do.” Rock's gaze darkened. “Let's enjoy dinner. Work awaits tonight, but at least we had a...wonderful diversion.”

  Is that what I am to him—a diversion?

  I nodded just as the waiter returned. How had he known exactly when to show up?

  Warmth rose to my face at the thought, and I couldn't look at him.

  The food was delicious, but my hunger had abated, and nervousness fluttered in my stomach at what would come after dinner.

  Work. Am I up to the task?

  I knew I was good at what I did—numbers and books—but I'd never worked for someone like Rock. And I'd never been doing kinky stuff with the boss.

  I ate what I could as my eyelids grew heavy.

  “Am I losing you?” Rock squeezed my arm gently, and I smiled at him.

  “No, just jetlagged I guess.”

  “As you should be. Would you like dessert? They make an amazing canoli.”

  I shook my head, hiding a yawn behind my palm. “I don't think so. Maybe just a hot shower and work.”

  “Sounds like a good plan, Lacey.”

  When the waiter returned, he didn't bring a bill. “Put it on my tab, Dimitri.”

  “Certainly, sir. Have a wonderful time in Venice. I hope to see you again soon.” The waiter bowed. “Would you like me to show you out?”

  “Definitely. How do things look outside?” Rock's brow furrowed.

  I had no idea what he was talking about.

  “Pretty good, sir, but I'll do my best to clear the path to your limo.” Dimitri grinned.

>   Rock helped me up from my chair and whispered to me as Dimitri went ahead of us out of the room. “I'm going to be calling you Ms. Pate regularly...at least till tomorrow night when the news of our engagement breaks.”

  My stomach dropped.

  “Right.”

  “It's best to act as if our relationship is the standard professional one until then—at least when we're in the public eye.”

  “I understand.”

  Now I knew what the crowd was about. The paparazzi surely waited outside for us.

  I swallowed hard.

  “You'll be fine. Just stay close and don't answer any questions.” Rock gave me a small nod.

  “I will.” I took a deep breath and walked out beside him.

  The moment hit me as surreal. I was walking outside of a posh Italian restaurant with Rock Weldon, billionaire CEO. And I wasn't just working for him. He'd made me his lover and soon-to-be fiancée.

  As soon as we hit the door, flashbulbs went off in a blinding burst of light.

  “Mr. Weldon, please comment on the rumors about Regal Enterprises.” Rock ignored them with a tight smile.

  Just a few feet to go. The reporters were packed in close to us, even as Dimitri waved them away where he'd gone out ahead.

  A hard grasp on my forearm made me gasp. “Ouch!”

  Rock turned toward the perpetrator, an icy glare on his face.

  “Miss! Miss, tell us your role with the company and Mr. Weldon.” The tone of her voice was unmistakable, and a dart of hurt ran through me.

  How many bookkeepers have there been before me? I must be a laughingstock right now.

  I tried to shake the woman off, but her grip tightened.

  “Let her go right now or I'll have you sued. You'll never work again.” Rock had stopped, leaning toward the woman, a menacing look on his face.

  The paparazzi murmured, snapping photos as fast as possible.

  “No problem. Just trying to get a story.” The hawk-nosed woman smiled.

  “No, you're not. You're infringing on my bookkeeper's right to be unmolested by vultures.” Rock touched my arm, and we continued to the limo.

  He helped me into the car, and I let out a long sigh, more relieved to be out of the public view than I ever had been.

  “I'm sorry about that.”

  “Where to, Mr. Weldon?” Luigi's accented voice came over a small speaker.