Mr. President: A Billionaire & Virgin Fake Fiancé Romance

by Alexis Angel

  Okay, don’t fucking kill me, okay?

  You think I’m a fucking idiot. I know you don’t tell a girl that she looks terrible. It’s a lie, she doesn’t look terrible at all; in fact, she looks as stunning as she always does.

  Sure, she has a thing for painting her hair in the weirdest bright colors, but she has that cute innocent face that just disarms any man.

  And when she smiles, it seems like the whole room lights up.

  And let’s not even talk about her body; sure, she’s a petite one, but her tits seem to prove a different point.

  So why did I tell her she looks terrible?

  Because she always pushes herself to exhaustion; when it comes to business, she’s fucking tireless, and I don’t want her to burn out.

  No, I need her thinking straight.

  We can’t afford any mishaps, not in this line of business.

  “Don’t you worry about me,” she yawns again, but then starts drinking her coffee. “I’ll sleep when I’m dead.”

  “That’s funny,” I say, but I’m not laughing. I care about her. And don’t go putting words in my mouth, alright? I’m not fucking her, and never have. I’m not saying I wouldn’t like to fuck her—I sure as hell wouldn’t mind, but I don’t want to ruin what we have going on because I can’t control my monster cock. We’re doing important stuff, and it’s important enough for me to forgo sex for a few minutes.

  Besides, even if I fucked her, there’s only one girl I have in my head and would have in my fucking brain.

  That’s right.

  Destiny Renee.

  “We need to consider our options, Austin,” she finally gets down to business, setting the cup on my desk and looking me in the eyes with a serious expression. “Lester isn’t going to stand down for long, and you know that.”

  I sigh as she continues. “If he somehow manages to get a warrant so that he can raid Python, that’s what he’s going to do.”

  “I know that,” I sigh, sitting back down on my chair and folding my hands in front of my face, pondering what our next move should be. “But we can’t move all the women out of here without him noticing. We need to be careful.”

  “We do,” she lowers her voice and then leans into me. She caresses her right earlobe with her thumb, and that gives away the fact that what she’s going to tell me isn’t really up for discussion. I’ve seen her do that too many times to start arguing; she argues back, and she doesn’t budge. And that’s exactly why I trusted her with this job in the first place.

  “And being careful means that we have a safe place to move the girls in case there’s a raid,” she says. “We can’t let Lester catch us with our pants down.”

  “Okay, okay. Fuck. I’ll think of something,” I tell her, my throat suddenly growing dry. It would be so much easier to run a regular strip club, but I guess that’s not who I am.

  Our choices define who we are, and the choices I’ve made in the past, especially since I’ve started working with Strokes, force me to stay true to who I am. There’s no backing down from this; I’m in for the long haul.

  “Let’s grab a drink, I’m buying,” I tell her, and then step out of the office. She follows after me quietly, knowing not to argue. I got a lot on my mind, with all the logistics of our operation and funneling money out of the club so that we can stick to our plans.

  I can’t believe at one point I actually thought that this was going to be easier than it is, but at least the payoff is good enough for me to keep investing both my time and money into this whole scheme.

  “Whisky, straight up,” I tell Mike, the shirtless bartender, and he sets a full glass down in front of me in fifteen seconds. Keep up the good work and you might see a raise, Mike.

  “Orange juice, natural,” Strokes asks, and Mike doesn’t even argue with her. She’s’ quirky like that; she loves her ice cream and her orange juice, and she’s not ashamed to order them when every single woman around her is getting loaded with martinis and tequilas.

  Even though she’s heading my operation, dealing with the day-to-day nasty reality of business, sometimes she seems just like a little girl fresh out of college and without any real world experience. But anyone who believes first appearances is a fool; there’s much more about her than what meets the eye.

  “Really, you and your orange juice. Can’t you just drink a whisky like a regular fucking human being? It’s 11 PM, for God’s sake.”

  “Health comes first,” she teases me with a smile, but then she’s back to her usual somber self. “So what’s the plan, Austin? I have to know. I need to be ready in case something happens.”

  “I’m working out an escape plan with security. If shit hits the fan, they have a few SUVs parked just right around the corner, and they have orders to get the girls out of here before anyone can lay eyes on them. At first sign of trouble, they’ll get them out.”

  “Yeah, but to where?”

  “I’m working that out, just trust me. I’m looking at renting a few apartments spread across the city so that we move the girls there if we need to do it. It’ll be a few more days to iron out some kinks in all of this, but the basics are covered. If we have trouble, at least security will get them out of here; the rest we can always figure out later.”

  Oh right.

  You’re wondering who I’m talking about?

  What girls I’m talking about?

  Don’t worry about it, doll.

  Just trust me, okay? I promise you, it’s going to look fucking suspicious, but I fucking guarantee you that I’m being legit.

  It may not look it, but I swear it is.

  I fucking promise.

  “Okay, sounds good,” Mistress Strokes says to me, and looks at me before continuing. “But I still think that --” She suddenly grows quiet, her eyes widening as she looks over my shoulder. “I’m leaving,” she whispers suddenly. She goes up to her feet and, ignoring the orange juice Mike has just set on the counter, turns to leave.

  “Hey, where are you going?” I ask after her, but she’s already lost in the crowd. I try and follow her blue hair with my eyes, but when Strokes doesn’t want to be followed or found, she simply vanishes up in the air.

  And she’s jumpy too; if she sees anything that she doesn’t like, she runs. “Better safe than sorry,” she always tells me and, even though I agree with her, I can’t help but get annoyed whenever she leaves me hanging like this.

  But the fact remains: she saw something (or someone) that she didn’t like and she bolted, just like she always does. I turn on my seat to see what frightened her, but I don’t see anything at first. The main floor is packed with horny women, all of them concentrating on the moves a half-naked Maverick is showing off on the stage, but aside from that I don’t—and then I see her.

  Destiny Renee.

  Her eyes are wide and, even though she’s standing under the glowing lights, I can tell that she looks pale. I don’t know why, but she saw me sitting here with Strokes and that freaked her out. Fuck, is she going to start getting fucking jealous?

  I didn’t think that she’d be the kind of woman to do that. Or is this… something else? Does she know anything about Strokes?

  This doesn’t look good. Destiny starts walking in my direction, walking through the crowd with her sure step, and I turn to face the counter. I down my whisky in one single gulp, readying myself to face her, and then I hear her voice cutting through the music.

  Yeah, she’s pissed.

  71

  Destiny

  My heart sank the moment I saw Austin talking with that blue-haired woman. Petite and slender, she was wearing a tight fitting black dress and she looked stunning. But that wasn’t the reason my heart sank; no, I felt like that because of the way they were talking to each other. They seemed to be talking about something serious, something secret, and there was a strange air of complicity surrounding them.

  Whatever that woman is up to, Austin is in on it. And if Lester’s right… Oh, God, if Lester’s right Austi
n is not only harboring a criminal, but he’s part of whatever the fuck is going on in here.

  And a man like Austin wouldn’t be a part of anything… No, if there’s something happening, Austin is the one leading. That’s the kind of man he is.

  I push my way through the crowd, walking through the maze of women, all of them staring in a trance at the stage where one man in a medical outfit dances to an upbeat sensuous tune. I go straight for the bar, where Austin is leaning against the counter, and I only stop when I’m just inches away from him. He turns slowly, as if he has all the time in the world, and shows me his million dollar smile.

  “Hey, babe,” he says, and reaches with his hand for my waist, but I smack it away.

  “Who the hell is that woman, Austin?” I start angrily, “and don’t bullshit me, I want to hear the truth,” I ask him, staring into his eyes as I feel a knot forming in my throat. God, is Lester right after all? Is something illegal going on here at Python? Please, God, don’t let it be true. I can’t handle that.

  “Jealous?” His grin widens even more and I place both my hands on my hips, staring him down.

  “I’m not in the mood for games right now, Austin. Just tell me the truth.”

  “Why would I lie to you, Destiny?” Austin simply shrugs, taking one step toward me and softly stroking my cheek with the back of his hand.

  I shudder under his touch, not knowing what’s the truth anymore, and his lips go from a smile into a serious straight line. “We call her Mistress Strokes. She works for me,” he whispers to me. “And why the interest all of a sudden?”

  “Austin… She’s a hooker,” I tell him. “A hooker from the streets, for God’s sake! And not only that, I think she’s on the run. She robs her customers and I think that… that she’s killed them too.”

  Oh, God, why is a woman like that in Python of all places?

  With Austin?

  What the hell is going on in this place?

  Maybe I shouldn’t have been telling him all this…

  I mean, it sort of shows that I know more than I should, but I can’t stop myself. If there’s a chance that Austin has nothing to do with whatever’s going on, I want to take it. I want to believe.

  Then Austin does something I wasn’t expecting at all.

  That motherfucker…he starts to laugh.

  The sound of it is almost contagious, but I’m too stressed out right now to join him.

  Why are all the men around me acting crazy today?

  “What’s so funny, Austin?” I’m asking almost hysterically. “She’s a criminal!” I cry out, pursing my lips and looking into his eyes.

  “She’s not a fucking criminal, I can promise you that,” he tells me, his lips curling into an easy smile. “Far from it.” The way he says it, I can’t help but believe him… I’ve built myself into someone who keeps her guard up at all times, but whenever I’m around him I can’t help but trust him, something I haven’t done for a long, long time.

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m fucking positive,” he tells me softly, but then he frowns. “Although… What you told me, that seems like it’s coming out of the mouth of someone else.”

  I look at Austin as he narrows his eyes. “You know, Destiny,” he sighs, “this isn’t the first time the police commissioner has tried to get someone inside Python.”

  My heart sinks once more, but this time it’s because I realize that my small lies are starting to rear their ugly head.

  Fuck. He’s going to stop trusting me.

  I’m sorry if I’m becoming grouchy, hun.

  I don’t want to lose his trust and ruin… whatever there is between the two of us.

  “Austin… Don’t say that. Don’t imply that I… That I have anything to do with that,” I tell him, lowering my voice as my heart tightens up at my lie. I’m digging myself into a hole, and I have no idea how I’ll escape from there once I’m deep enough.

  “I believe you,” he tells me with a smile, and that makes it all worse. I believe you; his three words hit me like bricks, and I feel sick to my stomach because he truly does seem to believe me. He trusts me. And I’m paying his trust in kind by lying to him.

  “But why would he want to get someone inside here?” I ask. “What does the police commissioner have to do with Python?” I start, desperate to get some solid answers. With a smile, Austin takes my hand.

  “Come with me,” he tells me, and then leads me to a door with a STAFF ONLY sign hanging on it. He slides a magnetic key card over the slit on the side, and pushes the door open, leading me in as he steps inside.

  We’re in a corridor, and I can see a few half-naked men laughing and talking as we walk past the open doors by our side. We take a turn and end up in a wide room, a set of stairs on the end of it; the man I saw minutes ago up on the stages comes down from them, and I realize where they lead.

  “Good job, Maverick,” he tells the man as we walk past him, and he gives Austin a nod.

  “Thanks, boss,” he says cheerfully, and then disappears down the corridor. Two other men appear, and Austin steps between them and the stairs that lead to the stage, stepping away from me. He tells them something in a hushed tone and both men turn on their heels and walk back to where they came.

  “You see, Destiny,” Austin tells me, walking back to me and stroking my cheek with the back of his hand. This time I don’t shudder at his touch… No, this time I feel that maddening warmness inside of me, a ball of lust and desire forming in my stomach.

  “This is the first time in history that a place like Python has happened,” he says to me. “There was nothing like this before anywhere.”

  I gasp as I feel his hands touch me. He runs his hands over me, possessing me, as he speaks. “A place made for women,” he says to me. “Men all have their fucking dens and pleasure houses, if you want to call them that, but women always had to settle for something more… tame. I love women, and I sure as hell don’t make that a fucking secret, as you’ve been able to tell by now.”

  “I know,” I tell him, a smile forming on my lips.

  “That’s why I started Python. I wanted a place where women could be themselves, and then some more. In here they’re safe…”

  He trails off and I look at him, my eyes asking him to explain more.

  I mean, is he telling me this is more than just a strip club?

  More than just a sex club?

  Seriously, what is it with people and grand plans lately? Why can’t we just have good ol’ fashioned simple fucking sex?

  Sorry.

  I’m still a bit scattered from everything, ya know?

  Austin continues. “Safe from everything out there in the world,” he says to me. “From judgment, from shame, and from things way worse than that. This is a haven for the most beautiful creatures on Earth, Destiny,” he continues, and I believe every single word of his.

  He’s really passionate about Python, and it’s not like when someone is passionate about a business. To Austin, Python is much more than just a business.

  “But… Why would the commissioner have trouble with that?” I ask, tying my brain into knots as I try to find an answer to my own question. There’s none that I can see.

  “Some people don’t like women to be as free as I want them to be. And some people… Well, let’s just say that some people not only don’t understand what I stand for, but they actively oppose it. The commissioner is one of these people.” His answer is a vague one but, for now, it’s more than enough. My fears have been soothed, and I’m back to believing that there’s going to be a way out of this mess I’m in.

  “You’ve built something great,” I tell him, squeezing his hand in mine as I look into his eyes. These bright smart eyes of his. “I see it every time I walk in here.”

  His lips curl upward into a gentle smile—not a grin, but a true tender smile—and he squeezes my hand back. “It’s not enough to see it, Destiny,” he tells me, “you have to feel it.” With that, he pulls me toward t
he stairs at the end of the room and walks up, pulling me after him. He isn’t going to make me walk on stage, is he?

  “Austin, what are you--”

  “Let me show you,” he cuts me short, whispering as he pulls me onto the stage, my heart racing so fast I can’t even think, “the power of Python.”

  72

  Destiny

  The moment Austin steps under the spotlight, everyone falls silent; I guess it’s not every day that Mr. Python himself walks on stage. He pulls me by the hand, leading me right toward the center of the stage, and then lets go of me. My heart is racing, and I can barely think straight; what is Austin going to do?

  I narrow my eyes into slits, but I can’t see a thing. The spotlights are focused on both Austin and I, and the bright lights blind me to everything else. I just hear the hushed voices of the women in the crowd, anticipation dripping out of every single word. I don’t think I have ever felt such tension at Python; this is a special event, and not just to me.

  “Let’s give them something to remember,” Austin tells me, and then leans into me and, running one hand through my hair, whispers. “I sure am going to give you something to remember,” he says, and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. Grinning, Austin turns on his heels and walks to the edge of the stage. He opens his arms and looks up and, even though I can only see his back, he looks like a God to me.

  Moving slowly, he takes his hands to the collar of his shirt and, grabbing it, he pulls on it harshly. The moment he does it, there’s a loud sound coming from the speakers, the deep rumble of the bass and drums as a sensuous music starts. The crowd buzzes with excitement as the buttons in his shirt pop out, baring his ripped pectorals and hard wall of abs. I can’t help but walk toward him and, before I can stop myself, I’m pressing my body against his, my eager fingers resting right over his abs and slowly running all the way up to his pecs. The crowd cries out, the women trying to live through me as I feel Austin’s body; they’re probably thinking that I’m part of the show. They have no idea that this whole show is meant for me.