Bound by the Billionaire (69th St. Bad Boys Book 5)

by Juliana Conners

  “I might have glanced at your diary when I was over last week and saw you had an interview with Alec Williams from The Reporter.”

  “You might have looked at my diary, or you did?”

  “Um,” she said stalling, “I didn’t purposefully look, your diary was open. But I didn’t see him come into the building to interview you; I saw her.”

  “You’ve been stalking me?”

  “No,” she said shaking her head. “It wasn’t like that. I missed you.”

  “Why did you talk to Alec? What was in it for you?”

  Bewilderment filled her eyes, and she hugged her coat to her stomach. “You, of course, Master.”

  Her use of the word Master grated on my nerves.

  “After some badgering, Mike told me who he sold my invitation to. I tracked her down and followed her. The night she went to the party with my invitation, I watched her go in. I thought you’d throw her out as soon as you saw it wasn’t me. She was in there for over an hour. The next day, I hung around outside your apartment waiting for Alec so I could offer him some insight into you, but then I saw her and put two and two together, and—”

  “Made five and tried to destroy my trust in Paige. You failed.”

  Her jaw dropped for a second, but then thunder filled her eyes. “No, I fucked Alec and told him a few things, like the girl he’d sent to interview you went into your room on the third floor of Expose.”

  “You’re finished in the New York scene.” I did my best to keep my temper under control and my voice steady before I spoke again. “No Dom will ever want you again. Leave now.”

  Red splotches stained her cheeks and tears filled her eyes, but they didn’t move me. I was only thinking of one thing.

  How was I going to make this up to Paige?

  Chapter 19

  Paige Matthews

  Christmas Eve had been a complete and utter shit show of a day.

  The Reporter removed the article and printed a retraction— Wyatt’s money really could work miracles; as could some threats from the expensive lawyers his money was able to buy— but it still showed up in Google search, courtesy of an Internet archive site. One can’t simply erase things from the Internet, no matter how much money one has.

  My name would be forever linked to Expose Club and its sexcapades. Great way to kickstart my career. Although, now that I’d quit the silly job I’d had writing the advice column at The Reporter, I didn’t have much of a career to speak of.

  Earlier, I’d attempted to get back into the newsroom to clean out my desk, but HR had already deactivated my keycard and security wouldn’t let me set foot inside the building. Not that I expected to find anything if they had let me in, because I was sure Alec had already thrown all of my stuff in the trash.

  To console myself, I’d bundled up and climbed onto my fire escape with a cup of hot chocolate teeming with marshmallows and a shot of my grandma’s brandy. But even that didn’t do the trick, because the taste reminded me that I should have just found out what the surprise hot chocolate was about that day, instead of getting further entangled with Wyatt Palmer.

  Without warning, tears slid down my cheeks. This would be my first Christmas alone. A vision of my tiny, white-haired grandma floated in front of my eyes. Damn, I missed her. If she were here, she would have kicked me into next week and said I’d brought this on myself. And she would have been right. If you play with fire, you’re bound to get burned. She would also have said Wyatt didn’t deserve me, and she would have been right about that, too.

  Jessica called and had invited me to Jamaica so I could spend Christmas with her and her family, but I’d declined. I wanted to be on my own, preferably for the rest of my life. And besides, who wanted to spend Christmas Day looking at my depressing face?

  In the space of a week, I’d gone undercover in a sex club, was fingered to orgasm by a masked man, spanked and flogged, had interviewed a billionaire, fallen in love with the billionaire, found out the billionaire was the masked man who had fingered me to orgasm, had my name on a front-page story, and then I’d lost the billionaire and my job. Eat your heart out Bridget Jones. Merry fucking Christmas to me.

  I drained my cup and climbed through my bedroom window into my apartment. I yawned. ‘Twas the night before Christmas and I was ready to go to bed at eight, and if I had my way, I’d sleep right through until December 26th.

  ***

  Sleep didn’t come, so after tossing and turning fruitlessly for far too long, at five am I finally gave up and rolled out of bed. I dragged my duvet into the sitting room and switched on the TV. Typical, The Office Christmas special was on. The thought of watching it made me queasy, even though I used to love, just like everything else about that show. Now it would be forever tainted by bad memories.

  Why did I have to go and ruin my favorite TV show along with everything else about my life? I switched the TV off and tossed my remote to the floor.

  To pass the time, I tortured myself by Googling photos off Wyatt. Smiling Wyatt with his arms around kids at a charity event. Serious Wyatt wearing glasses and a suit. Animated Wyatt on stage in front of thousands. Relaxed Wyatt on a beach with a surfboard under his arm.

  An hour and three mugs of hot chocolate later, I shut down my laptop.

  A knock rattled my front door. It was probably Jean and Fred, my neighbors across the hall, coming to wish me a Merry Christmas before they went to early morning church. Since my grandma passed, they liked to check in on me to make sure I was eating, plus they worried about me spending the holiday alone.

  I wrapped my duvet around my body and shuffled towards the door. I plastered a smile on my face and opened up, but there was no one there. What was there was a snow-white envelope wrapped in a gold bow.

  I picked it up, and after I’d removed the bow, I tore the envelope open. Inside was a note that read: Dress warmly and come downstairs. Please forgive me, W.

  My heart threatened to melt and need rolled through me, but I shoved both away and crumpled the note. How could I hate someone so much and want them so much at the same time?

  He wouldn’t even take my phone calls, and he’d blocked my emails. He’d treated me like I was a contagious disease he didn’t want to catch, so why should I forgive him?

  I glanced back at my empty apartment and contemplated staying at home and stuffing my face with holiday candy. That’s what my mind wanted, but my heart and body wanted something entirely different.

  Screw it, since I’d already lost everything, I had nothing else to lose by hearing him out.

  ***

  I didn’t make too much of an effort with my appearance. Skinny jeans and a flannel shirt weren’t very festive, but my desire to celebrate vanished when Alec published the interview with my name on the byline.

  I’d fixed my hair in a messy top knot and misted my skin with perfume. The bruised circles around my eyes showed I needed three straight days of sleep. I wished Jessica were home to work her magic, or at least make me look less zombie-esque.

  Hoping I didn’t look too horrible, I quickly left my apartment. A fresh blanket of snow covered the pavements, but thanks to the sanitation department, the roads were already clear.

  Outside my apartment building stood a majestic, chestnut horse and a covered carriage, but there was no sign of Wyatt. A driver wearing a top hat and tails stood by the carriage.

  “Morning, love. I’m Phil and this—” he said, jerking his thumb towards the horse, “—is Charlie. Make sure you wrap yourself up in the blanket and help yourself to the treats. It shouldn’t take us long to get to where we’re going.”

  “Where are we going?” I patted my hand against the horse’s neck.

  “To see Mr. Palmer.”

  Phil helped me into the carriage, and on the seat sat a fluffy white blanket and a thermos. I opened the thermos, and the delicious scent of hot chocolate drifted up. On the opposite seat was a box of truffles. Chocolate and chocolate for breakfast? Why not?

  The sun c
rept up from the horizon, but the city still slept. There were no honking horns or raised voices. The only sound was the horse’s hooves hitting the road and reverberating off the buildings. I felt like a fairytale princess on the way to meet her prince charming. This was the second childhood dream Wyatt had fulfilled for me in a matter of days.

  When we reached The Avalon, George came outside and helped me step down from the carriage.

  “Mr. Palmer said for you to go on up.”

  “Thanks, George.”

  After thanking Phil and patting Charlie’s back, I went into the lobby. Silence greeted me. No creature was stirring not even a mouse. The poem reminded me of the pet name Wyatt had given me, and I smiled.

  The entire way up to Wyatt’s floor, I promised myself nothing would happen. I would hear him out and nothing else.

  When the elevator door opened, and I stepped out, I walked into a forest. Pine trees covered in fake snow and decorated with dancing lights lined the hallway. It was as if I’d stepped into my very own version of Narnia.

  I threaded through the trees, and when I made it to the front door, it was already open. Giddiness wrapped itself around me. The last time I’d felt this excited about Christmas was the last one I’d had with my dad and mom. Back when I had a family.

  A lump formed in my throat but I swallowed it down. I was emotional enough without making myself any worse.

  There were trees everywhere. In the foyer, in the kitchen, and in the sitting room. Eventually, I came to a clearing by the sitting room windows. Wyatt stood in the center wearing a tux and looking every bit the delicious sexy billionaire.

  Everything inside of me turned to liquid, and my heart leaped as if trying to burst out of my chest and get to him.

  “I wasn’t sure you’d come,” he admitted.

  “Me either. Thanks for the carriage ride around the city. You’re a one man make a wish come true factory.”

  My hands trembled so much I stuck them inside my coat pockets.

  A smile crinkled his eyes. “So am I forgiven?”

  The hopeful look on his face wasn’t helping with my resolution that nothing would happen, and I had to force myself not to go to him and fall to my knees.

  “What am I forgiving you for?” I asked. “For pretending I didn’t exist or for thinking I went ahead with the story when I said I wouldn’t?”

  “Both.”

  I rolled my lips inwards and frowned.

  “Honestly, Wyatt. I’m not sure. How do I explain this… My heart isn’t broken, but it’s battered and bruised, and it’ll take a while for the pain to stop. I don’t know why you thought I would betray you like that.”

  “I know you had nothing to do with it. Vivian and Alec set you up. I was wrong. I’m sorry.”

  I wasn’t sure I understood what he’d said. “Did I hear you right? Your ex and Alec know each other? What’s this got to do with me?”

  His brow furrowed and his lips tightened. Blowing out a breath, he said. “You already knew Mike told her about selling her invitation to you.”

  I nodded.

  “She spent the last few days following you, following us, and when she saw you come in here the day Alec was supposed to interview me, she put it all together and brought the story to him. She’s his source.”

  I snorted. “Alec must have thought all of his Christmases had come at once.” I shook my head in disbelief. “She did say if she couldn’t have you then neither could I.”

  “Instead of ignoring you and jumping to conclusions, I should have talked to you. In case you didn’t know, I’ve trust issues, and with you, I thought maybe I’d met someone I could trust, but—”

  “You saw a chance to run away, and you took it.”

  He gave me a wounded smile. “Ouch. You’re right. I ran like a scared little boy. I’ve had my heart broken once, and I didn’t want it to happen again.”

  I was impressed by the way he knew how to apologize and take the heat. And a guilty conscience reminded me I was at fault too. I should have deleted the video I’d filmed from my phone. I never should have made it in the first place.

  But then, I wouldn’t have had a reason to be at Expose and I never would have met Wyatt. I wouldn’t have known how much I liked the lifestyle. I suppose I couldn’t regret any of it without regretting any of it, so how could I still be upset with him?

  Needing to change the subject before I ripped my clothes off and begged him to screw me, I nodded toward the trees. “Why did you do this? It’ll be hell to clean up. I know how much you like things to be neat and tidy.”

  “The other day you said I could fit a twenty-foot tree in here and still have room for more.”

  “You did this for me?”

  “It’s another way for me to show you how sorry I am.”

  “You didn’t have to turn your apartment into Narnia to do that.” I moved my eyes to the window and gazed at Central Park. “You were right, it’s beautiful in the snow.”

  He stood beside me, close enough for me to feel the warmth of his body. Laying my head on his shoulder would be so easy. So would giving myself to him and accepting his apology.

  But doing so would show weakness and that he could treat me however he wanted.

  I scrubbed my hands over my face and sighed. “I should go. This—” I said and gestured around the apartment, “—was sweet and thoughtful. But I should go.”

  “Don’t. Stay.” He fell to his knees, and said, “I’m sorry, Paige. Let me spend the rest of my life making this up to you.”

  The shake in his voice broke me, and in that moment, I gave my heart to him. Tears filled my eyes, and I let them fall.

  “Show me how sorry you are, Master,” I said, my voice thick with emotion.

  “You forgive me?”

  “It’s a work in progress,” I admitted, “but I think I’ll get over it.”

  He stood, took my cheeks in his hands and used the pads of his thumbs to dry my tears. “I didn’t think it was possible to fall in love with someone in less than a week, but I have. I love you, Mouse, and I never want to spend a day without you.”

  God, how I’d missed him. I honestly hadn’t thought I’d ever see him again. This was an amazing Christmas gift indeed. His soft lips covered mine, and once again he took possession of me in a deep and passionate kiss. I curled my arms around his neck, and he lifted me against the window. I wrapped my legs around his waist, crushing my pussy against his huge cock.

  I pulled back from him. “And, I love you, Master. Now take me to bed, spank me hard and fuck me even harder.”

  Epilogue

  Paige Matthews

  One year later

  Wyatt carried me over the threshold into our bedroom and set me on the mattress of our four-poster bed. I gazed out of the window at the swirling snow, and my heart swelled with gratefulness.

  We’d spent Christmas Day with our family and friends celebrating our love. Everything had been perfect, and later I would share something with Wyatt that would put the cherry on top of our day.

  “Are you ready to consummate our marriage, Mrs. Palmer?” he asked, loosening his bow tie.

  “You know it, Mr. Palmer.” I kicked off my right shoe and curled my toes around the bulge in his pants. “Looks like you’re ready.”

  “Where you’re concerned, I’m always ready.”

  In the past year, my life had changed beyond recognition. I’d been nominated for an Investigative Reporting Pulitzer for my work on the flow of opioids into depressed areas of New York. I didn’t win, and that was okay because I didn’t need awards to validate my work.

  My reports had helped expose the crisis and had opened people’s eyes to the seriousness of the epidemic and the overdose rates. It was a lot more fulfilling than being known as the girl who wrote the advice column. And a better pursuit than trying to expose BDSM participants.

  Alec the asshole had been fired when Henry got back from vacation and he was now working for a supermarket rag in Orlando. Vivian
moved to Florida with Alec, and I was sure they were having a grand old time.

  Wyatt published his third memoir about his life as a Dom, and if he wanted to, he could go on tour all of next year giving talks about the lifestyle. He didn’t feel the need to hide it anymore, and we hoped his confessions would decrease the stigma surrounding the lifestyle and let other people who liked it feel more at ease saying so.

  “Wedding dress on or off?” I asked, using my toes to pull his shirttails from the waistband of his trousers.

  “What do you think, Mouse?” He began unbuttoning his shirt, and I continued to massage his cock.

  “Off.”

  I removed my other shoe, stepped off the bed and took off my gown. The vintage design had three-quarter length sleeves and a delicate lace neckline. It was elegant and perfect for our winter wedding, or so Jessica had told me when we went dress shopping. As usual, she’d been right. I put the dress on a hanger and hung it over the oval mirror in the corner of our room.

  “Close your eyes,” Wyatt said, “I have a surprise for you.”

  “Another one?”

  My life was filled with surprises. He was romantic and thoughtful and made every single one of my wishes come true. He even made wishes I didn’t know I had come true, too.

  I closed my eyes, and I heard him rummaging around.

  After a few minutes, he said, “Open up.”

  I opened my eyes and turned to face him. A grin stretched my lips. Just when I thought I couldn’t love him anymore, he did something that made my heart swell.

  He stood in front of me wearing nothing but his tuxedo pants and a black mask.

  I gave a delighted squeal. “Is that the same mask?”

  He nodded. “I thought what better way to begin our married life together than to remind ourselves how it all began.”

  “I have a surprise for you too,” I said, “but I’ll tell you later.”

  “Can’t wait.” He grabbed me around the waist and pressed his lips to the nape of my neck “So what’s it to be for our wedding night? Cuffs, spanking, flogging, restraint?”