Bound to the Billionaire

by Natalie Dae

  He lay beside her for what seemed like an eternity, caught up in the moment and his love for her.

  “Someone told me I’d see stars when I reached orgasm.” She rolled onto her side and stared him in the eye. “I didn’t believe them, but you made me see stars.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Every time you make me come. It’s pretty incredible.”

  Sebastian pawed for the remote, then released her from the cuffs. The bands of metal flopped onto the mattress. He rose to a sitting position and carefully detached the chain on the clamps. “Have a bath with me?” He unfastened the clips on her nipples, then kissed her breasts. “I want to pamper you.” The other toys ended up in a pile on the bed. He removed the plug from her vagina and added it to the pile. “And show you I love you.”

  “I’d like that.”

  “Wait here.” He climbed off the bed and strolled into the adjacent bathroom. In moments he started the water to fill the tub and lit candles to illuminate the space in soft yellow light.

  “You have everything in this building.”

  He added bubble bath to the steamy water, then glanced over his shoulder. “I’m a billionaire. I can have whatever I want wherever I want.” He opened his hand. “Except you. You made me work for you and I’m glad. Makes me value you all the more.”

  Sebastian helped her into the hot bath. “You’re worth the trouble.” He sank down into the water behind her. “I love you, Rhiannon.”

  She cuddled into his embrace, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. “I love you, too.”

  “Marry me.” The tips of his ears burned. He’d blurted the words and screwed up his plan to propose to her at breakfast. “I don’t want to just be your master. I want to be your lover, your best friend and your husband. What I said about the contract is true. I’m tearing it up once we get out of the tub—if you agree. I’ve got a ring for you, too.” Although he hadn’t said what he wanted in the smooth way he’d practiced, he didn’t regret asking her. The longer she stayed quiet, the further his stomach dropped to his toes. He kissed her neck. “Rhiannon?”

  She scooted away from him and turned around. Rhiannon kept her head down but facing him. Tears spilled down her cheeks.

  “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Tell me and I’ll do anything to make it right.” He inched towards her. All the confidence he commanded when they played drained right away when she cried. “Kitten?”

  “There are so many things I see when I look in the mirror. Shame, embarrassment, disgust. But none of that matters to you. I’m not some pampered pop princess or a victim. You gave me the chance to see myself the way you do.” She finally looked him in the eyes. “And you still want to marry me.”

  “I do.” He curled his arms around her waist and sat her on his lap. “Warts, wrinkles, good times, bad times and everything else, I want with you.” He nodded to the other room. “The ring is waiting by my bed. I want to marry you and grow old beside you.”

  Mascara smeared at the corners of her eyes and her cheeks tinged a vibrant pink. Her chin quivered. “I’d love to marry you.” She splashed water over the sides of the tub and threw her arms around his neck. “I want the freedom wearing your collar gives me.”

  Sebastian captured her mouth in a kiss. His tongue tangled with hers. More water splattered onto the floor. His cock throbbed against her labia.

  Rhiannon broke the kiss and puffed, “You’re ready to go again?”

  “Yes, and once I make love to you on our bed, I’m flying you to Vegas to make us legal. I don’t want to wait.” He brushed damp strands of her hair behind her shoulders. “I love you.”

  “Sounds like the words to a song.” She drew circles over his lips with the pad of her finger. “Maybe I’ll call it Play to Him and write it about the man I love.”

  “You should—afterwards. Your Master wants to play with you.”

  “To you, with you…it doesn’t matter. I’ll never pass up a chance to play.”

  About the Author

  I always dreamed of writing the stories in my head. Tall, dark, and handsome heroes are my favourites, as long as he has an independent woman keeping him in line.

  I earned a BA in education at Kent State University and currently hold a Masters in Education with Nova Southeastern University.

  I love NASCAR, romance, books in general, Ohio farmland, dirt racing, and my menagerie of animals.

  Email: wendi.zwaduk@yahoo.com

  Wendi loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at http://www.total-e-bound.com.

  Also by Wendi Zwaduk

  Learning How to Bend

  Must Be Doing Something Right

  My Immortal

  You’ll Think of Me

  Tangled Up

  Careless Whisper

  Please Remember Me

  What Might Have Been

  Ever Fallen In Love

  Someone Like You

  Love Remembers

  When You’re With Me

  Sunshine of Your Love

  Clandestine Classics: The Phantom of the Opera

  Treble: Savin’ Me

  Switch: Still the One

  Heart Attack: Over My Head

  Haunted By You: Miss Me Baby

  DIE FOR HIM

  Amy Valenti

  Dedication

  To the members of my family who know I write erotica, but who have no idea what my pseudonym is. You’ll never read this, but I’m dedicating it to you anyway. Thanks for your good humour and your lack of interest in the specifics of my craft. ;)

  Trademarks Acknowledgement

  The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

  Kevlar: DuPont

  Glock: GLOCK Gesellschaft mbH

  Chapter One

  What kind of billionaire holds a business meeting in a nightclub?

  I put the finishing touches to my lipstick and clicked the cap back into place, then put it back on the dresser, not without reluctance. I’d have loved to take a purse with me, but it would just get in the way if I needed to move quickly.

  “You ready?” Rick called from the living room.

  “Think so.” I picked up my only essential item for the evening, my trusty Glock pistol, and tucked it into its holster at my hip. After taking a last look around me, I headed out to meet Rick, who was staring, perplexed, at the collection of extreme sports gear piled in the corner.

  “I thought you were on jury duty this week, not snowboarding and skydiving.”

  “Oh.” I eyed the corner distractedly. “I keep meaning to pick that up, but I use it all so often that there doesn’t seem like much point.”

  He shuddered. “Man, I don’t know how you keep throwing yourself out of planes and down mountainsides and stuff. That would freak me the fuck out. Aren’t you scared of dying or something?”

  I should be so lucky. I bit back the words before they emerged. I didn’t want the guys I worked with to know I couldn’t find much to live for these days and needed a good jolt of adrenaline to get my kicks. That’d get me suspended on psych leave, or worse, fired. I could hardly handle two days of jury duty, never mind a life of leisure with no wages to fund my need for extreme sports.

  Rick turned and looked me up and down. “Nice. I love the way the Kevlar brings out your eyes.”

  “Thanks.” I rolled my eyes and adjusted the vest below my black shirt. Said shirt was the loosest piece of what could pass as clubwear I owned, but to a trained eye like Rick’s, the body armour was easy to spot. Luckily, I wasn’t trying too hard to pass myself off as a civilian—I was only covering up the vest to avoid freaking out the rest of the club’s patrons. It wasn’t a sexy look, but it was functional. “Remind me where this club is, again?”

  “Just off Miller Street.” Rick switched to businesslike, heading for the door, and I followed, locking up behind us. “I’ll drive.”

  “And you
’re sure it’s an invitation-only night?”

  “Positive. While you were sitting around taking it easy on jury duty, we were vetting the guest list and checking out the venue. You’re gonna love it.”

  Judging by the grin on his face, I wasn’t too sure about that.

  I slid into the passenger seat and buckled up, waiting for Rick to do the same on the driver’s side before continuing the conversation. “So why is he having a business meeting in a nightclub anyway? He’s only got one more night until the big meeting that’s put his life in danger to start with. Wouldn’t he be safer waiting until this is all over?”

  “Trust me, we’ve already had this conversation with him. From what I understand, it’s his nightclub and he needs to deal with some legal issues. At least it’s a change of scenery from the usual.”

  “Well, if he dies it’ll be his own damn fault.”

  Rick grinned and started the engine, then eased the car away from the kerb. “True enough. But if he dies, we don’t get paid, so keep your eyes open.”

  I’d skimmed the file when I’d got home from court earlier. Dean Tremaine might not have been the first billionaire I’d had to work with, but from the sounds of it, he was the most unconventional. He’d been rich in his own right before his father had died, having made all the right investments, but then he’d inherited Daddy’s money on top of his own wealth. The Tremaine Group was a huge umbrella corporation that had a finger in pretty much every pie going, and since the younger Tremaine had taken over he’d made a few unpopular decisions, the most significant of which involved making the entire conglomeration more environmentally friendly. ‘Greener’ and ‘cheaper’ seemed to be opposing concepts, and the measures were cutting into the bonuses of some of the smaller companies’ bosses. As it turned out, the bigwigs hadn’t liked it when their six-figure bonuses had become five figures, though personally, I couldn’t muster much sympathy for them.

  The result of all this drama? Death threats from one or more of the parties involved—Tremaine wasn’t sure exactly who was responsible—and he’d hired us to make sure he lived long enough to sign the papers.

  “What’s he like?”

  “Eye candy. You’re gonna love him.”

  I scowled over at Rick. “I meant to work with.”

  “But don’t tell me you’re not intrigued.”

  It had been a while since I’d had a date, but drooling over a guy I was supposed to be protecting didn’t seem like the best way to go about getting one. “I don’t need eye candy. I need a paycheque and a long weekend in Venice.”

  Rick didn’t take his eyes off the road. “You know who can afford flights to Venice? Billionaires like Dean Tremaine.”

  “Uh-huh.” I put on an overly enthusiastic voice. “‘Oh, hey, Mr Tremaine! Lovely to meet you! If you have a moment, could you just write me a cheque so I can take a vacation? Just leave the amount blank and I’ll fill it in later.’”

  “You’re snippy today.”

  Maybe I was a little scornful, but the fact that a billionaire was putting his life on the line just to go to a nightclub, and passing on the responsibility to us to keep him safe, wasn’t great for my mood. Sure, I was an old hand at bodyguarding, but the client had to work with me, not against me. I got the feeling Mr Tremaine and I weren’t exactly going to hit it off.

  “Shut up,” I muttered to Rick, and stared out of the window as the good side of town gradually became the awesome side of town. This was where all the guys with more money than sense lived, so I wasn’t surprised when Rick turned into a driveway that led up to a very classy mansion.

  “Wow. Sucks to be him, huh?”

  “Money can’t buy you happiness,” Rick said.

  “But it helps,” I added, staring at the impressive façade. “Tell me you’d turn down his salary.”

  “You got me there.”

  Rick pulled the car up next to the mansion and looked expectantly over at me, as if waiting for me to jump out. I blinked at him. “You’re not coming in?”

  “Nope. I’m manning the door at the club. You’re riding along with Mr Moneybags in his limo.”

  “Can I get wasted on champagne?” I didn’t wait for an answer—we both knew I had to stay sober. “See you later, then.”

  Rick gave me an evil grin. “Have fun, and remember—keep your pants on. He has to pay extra if he wants to fuck you.”

  I punched him in the shoulder, torn between amusement and irritation. “Don’t be a prick, Rick.”

  “Later, hater,” he called back as I got out of the car.

  I slammed the door shut and watched him drive off, shaking my head.

  After greeting my colleague, Peter, who was outside keeping his eye on the surroundings, I let myself into the mansion, pulling my earpiece out of my pocket and slipping it in, then tuning in my feed to the standard frequency we used. “Hey, Manny. I’m coming in.”

  “Affirmative. Peter told me you were on the way.”

  I walked through the stunning foyer, impressed despite my ingrained cynicism. The floor was tiled in chequered grey and black, contrasting with the white walls and red upholstery. Staircases with black metal banisters curved around each side of the room to meet in the middle. The chandeliers matched the banisters and were covered in actual candles, though I guessed they were mostly decorative, judging by the modern, electric sconces embedded in the walls here and there.

  I was going to have to explore everything later and map it all out in my mind, but until then I’d have to trust the place was clear and the perimeter teams were keeping intruders off the grounds.

  I knocked lightly on the door to the room Peter had directed me to, which was closed as an extra precaution, and waited for Manny to acknowledge me through my earpiece before entering.

  “Hey.”

  Manny was standing to the left of the door, up against the wall, and he gave me a quick nod. He wasn’t much for chit-chat on the job, but he and I got on well.

  “You’re Mia, I take it?”

  I stepped forward, holding out a hand to the tall, dark-haired, surprisingly young head of the Tremaine Group. I’d expected him to be at least forty, but he had to be ten years younger than that. And Rick had been right—he was eye candy. Not that I cared.

  “Yes, sir. I’ll be your close-quarters protection this evening.”

  He smiled, taking the hand I offered and squeezing it rather than shaking it, and I forgot how to breathe for a moment. He really was gorgeous—which, I hastily reminded myself, probably meant he was also a giant dick.

  Is a giant dick, or has a giant…?

  Hoping he couldn’t sense my attraction to him, I pulled back my hand.

  “I’m Dean Tremaine. Call me Dean, please.”

  He gestured for me to sit on one of the most comfortable-looking couches I’d ever seen. I demurred, explaining that since I was on duty I had to stay on my feet as much as possible, but when Dean asked Manny to stay for a few extra minutes while we ‘got acquainted’, I sat down.

  “I’ll be glad to have you around. Death threats are a new experience, I have to admit.”

  I tried to find familiar ground, giving him my usual spiel. “I’ll stick as close to you as I can tonight. I’m sure the rest of the guys have already gone through this with you, but just so we’re on the same page—I’m looking out for your safety, and if I ask you or even yell at you to move somewhere or to stay still, I’ll need you to comply as quickly as possible.”

  For a second, I could have sworn I saw a glint of defiance in his eyes, and my heart sank. Yup. Giant dick, and not in a good way.

  “I’m more accustomed to being the one in charge, but I’ll do my best.”

  For some reason, the idea of him being in control of the situation sent a shiver through me. I couldn’t pin down exactly why, but the thought of him ordering me around was weirdly compelling.

  I put on my most reassuring expression. “Your best is all I can ask of you.”

  Over the next few m
inutes, I checked that he hadn’t changed any of his plans, that we were still going to the club on Miller Street and that the guest list hadn’t changed. I stopped short of asking him why the hell he couldn’t just discuss business over the phone like any other guy would if his life was being threatened, but it was a close thing.

  Manny cleared his throat and reminded me that he had to get going—it was his first child’s sixth birthday and he wanted to be home before the kid went to bed. I jumped to my feet and told him to head off, before Dean could decide otherwise, and Manny ducked out of the room, looking distinctly relieved. Through my earpiece, he wished me good luck as his footsteps receded down the hall.

  Left alone with the billionaire, I looked back at him. “Is there anything you particularly need to do before your meeting?”

  “I’ll need to shower and get changed. I’m assuming you won’t need to be in the bathroom with me?”

  Now, wouldn’t that be a treat? Maybe I could even pass him the soap. “As long as I check the bathroom’s clear beforehand and stay within sight of the door, you’re fine. Assuming the window’s locked and covered.”

  Dean stood up and beckoned to me. “Come and see for yourself.”

  Chapter Two

  I followed Dean up one of the sweeping staircases and down a hall, into the biggest bedroom I’d ever been in—with a bed to match. The black, white and red décor seemed to be prevalent throughout the mansion, and the bedspread and curtains were a dark, sensual burgundy.

  The first thing I did was draw the curtains closed—there was only a tiny chance that there was a sniper waiting to take a shot at Dean whenever he neared a window, but I wasn’t going to gamble with his life. The room immediately grew dimmer, cosier, and I reached over to the nearest light source—a bedside lamp—to dispel the atmosphere of increased intimacy a little.