The Billionaire From New York City: A Steamy BWWM Billionaire Romance (UNITED STATES OF BILLIONAIRES Book 4)

by Simply BWWM

  “You keep looking at me like you expect me to take off my belt and start beating you if you don’t crawl on your knees to me or something,” he said. Brianna’s eyes widened at that mental image. “I want to show you how much you can enjoy our little arrangement, too.” He glanced at the door and then at his watch. “Let me remind you of just how much you enjoyed being with me.”

  Before Brianna could even think to demur, Ethan closed the distance between them, kissing her hungrily on the lips. His hands trailed over her body slowly, grazing her breasts and working down to her hips, barely slipping up underneath her skirt—and stopping right where the tops of her stockings ended. If Brianna was expecting some kind of brutal, demanding force, if she was expecting him to just bend her over and take her, she hadn’t expected the actual approach Ethan was using. She trembled slightly as she felt herself becoming turned on in spite of the awkwardness of their situation, and somehow, the fact that they would likely be interrupted by the arrival of the delivery order only made the situation more exciting.

  Ethan deepened the kiss, gently pushing Brianna onto her back on the couch until he was on top of her, but he didn’t try and strip off her clothes. He teased her, caressing her over her blouse, stopping just short of groping her, until Brianna actually started to be frustrated by the fact that he wasn’t pushing her to do more. Her legs almost seemed to open of their own will, her hips shifting as she felt her labia starting to grow slick with desire.

  Ethan broke away from her lips, smiling slightly as he looked down into her eyes. “You see? I can tell, right now, that you want me just as much as you did the other night—before you knew I was going to hire you for this. We have plenty of sexual chemistry, Brianna.”

  “It just feels really weird to be hired to basically be my hookup’s fuck-connection,” Brianna said, losing any sense of tact in her combination of arousal and frustration. Ethan snorted.

  “You must be turned on,” Ethan said, shaking his head slightly. One hand slid up along her inner thigh and Brianna gasped as his fingers stopped just short of the front of her panties, just short of where she was suddenly certain she didn’t just want, but needed him to touch her. “Just think of how much fun it will be to go back out there after we’re done and know that neither of your coworkers will know you spent your lunch break getting off.” Ethan’s voice was low, almost a purr, and Brianna had to admit that the idea of getting off, of having that little secret—especially from Cassidy, who she’d already started to dislike—was a thrill.

  The sound of the door buzzer cut their interlude short, and Ethan rose quickly, smoothing his suit against his body and walking towards the door, giving Brianna just enough time to sit up and straighten her clothes before he unlocked it. She took a deep breath and grabbed up her glass of wine to drink another big gulp of it, still able to feel the simmering heat coursing through her veins, and hoping against hope that Cassidy wasn’t nosy enough to be trying to see what the meeting in the office was like. Ethan made polite chitchat with the delivery man, and accepted the order, signing the receipt he was given and paying the man a tip out of his own pocket: twenty dollars, Brianna saw.

  He closed the door behind the man and turned to face her. “Now, we can eat this delicious food right this second, get ourselves a little cleaned up, and see about fucking each other senseless on that couch then...but I’d really rather have a little appetizer first.” He smiled slowly, his gaze sliding down over her body, and Brianna felt a little rush of heat, able to see clearly in Ethan’s expression what he had in mind for his “appetizer.”

  “Well if you want an appetizer,” she said, shifting on the couch so that her skirt moved up enough to show the tops of her stockings, “I guess you should have that before the meal.” Ethan chuckled and moved quickly to the couch, setting down the bags with their meal on the coffee table to perfume the air. He knelt down in front of her, his hands on her knees, and kissed her lightly on the lips.

  “I think you’ll enjoy what I’ve selected,” he murmured, barely breaking away from her lips. “And I know I will.” His hand slid up, along her inner thigh, and this time instead of stopping short of her lace-covered pussy, he cupped her there, rubbing slightly to test how turned on she was. Brianna shivered as Ethan’s fingers pressed against her, making her even wetter, even as he claimed her lips with a hungry kiss.

  He broke away a few moments later, looking into her eyes. “Lie on your back, sweetheart,” he told her. Brianna only hesitated for a moment before doing as she was told, and Ethan pushed her skirt up over her hips, looking eagerly at her panties and garter belt. “Good work on this,” he said, gesturing to the way she’d put the panties on over her garter belt—it was something she’d read online. He hooked his fingers in the waistband of her panties and tugged them down to her knees, spreading her legs wide.

  Brianna glanced apprehensively at the door once again, but as Ethan took off his jacket and tossed it aside, shifting down between her legs, she forgot all about the risk of being caught; all she wanted was to feel his mouth on her throbbing, soaking wet pussy, giving her the relief she craved. When Ethan disappeared between her legs, and she felt his hot breath against her drenched labia, she moaned, barely catching herself in the midst of the noise.

  “Don’t worry. The walls are soundproof. You could scream and they wouldn’t know it outside,” Ethan murmured, and then—then—he buried his face against her and Brianna moaned out even louder as his tongue and lips went to work, sucking and licking as if he fully intended to devour her. Slurping, wet sounds filled her ears, along with her own moans and Ethan’s, as he worshipped her with his mouth, bringing the tip of his tongue up to flick against her swollen, sensitive clit and then dipping down again to her inner labia to probe and taste her.

  She was shocked at how quickly her arousal mounted, at how dedicated Ethan was to his task—and how good he was at it, teasing her relentlessly and figuring out seemingly almost in an instant what she really liked. In a matter of what felt like seconds, Brianna’s fingers were tangled in his hair, her hips bucking as if with a mind of their own as Ethan worked her pussy, sucking her clit between his lips and lapping up her fluids as if he were starving.

  She cried out as he slid two fingers inside of her, working them along her inner walls as he sucked and licked her clitoris, sending jolts of sensation through her body so intense that she couldn’t fight the orgasm building up deep down between her hips anymore. Brianna moaned again and again as she came, and Ethan seemed to want to keep her coming for as long as possible—he slowed down and then sped back up just as the spasms of pleasure started to ebb, working her relentlessly until she was almost scared she wouldn’t stop coming.

  When she was finally completely done, only the aftershocks dancing up and down along her nerves and bones, Ethan pulled back, licking his lips greedily. “Not a bad start to a lunch meeting, huh?”

  Chapter7

  Ethan checked the time on his office clock and smiled to himself. Brianna had been working as his assistant for over a week—and it was Friday. He’d told her to expect to stay late that evening, and Brianna had accepted the instruction without any complaint or attempt to argue. He checked his phone; he’d made plans for them starting just after work, and his anticipation was mounting.

  He had put more thought into it than several dates he’d taken women on in the past several years: dinner at the 21 Club, a stop at Rockefeller Center on the way to Times Square, and then onto Madame Tussaud’s, before retiring to the Belvedere. Ethan knew that he would easily convince Brianna to go home with him, to his apartment, but there was something magical about staying the night in a hotel in his own city; especially a hotel like the Belvedere. It was going to be the first—of many, Ethan hoped—nights out with Brianna, where they would enjoy themselves and take in some of Ethan’s favorite things in the city, leading up to hours of sex.

  Of course, Ethan thought with a little grin to himself, the overtime pay for Brianna would be capped at
four hours—but he’d made sure she agreed to that beforehand. The night would be a first foray into meetings outside of the office—and Ethan planned for them to leave the office during the day in the near future, so he wanted the first attempt to go as well as possible.

  Brianna had put in her request for one of their out-of-office events to include the ferry to Ellis Island and the Statue of Liberty, which she’d wanted to see since long before she’d come to the city. And Ethan for his part wanted to take her on a day trip through Chinatown and Canal Street, before taking her back to his apartment for the afternoon.

  The board seemed to be pleased with the way that Brianna was performing in her stated job, and Ethan had already proven his merit as a new owner of the company after streamlining a few departments, cutting enough fat to more than justify the new position he’d created for Brianna.

  His door buzzer went off, and Ethan saw that it was Brianna standing at the door. They’d had a teasing, not-quite completed tryst earlier in the afternoon, so that he could prep her for the evening’s festivities—a one-hour meeting in which he had teased her and himself alike, touching and tasting, bringing them both to the edge of climax before backing off just in time to avoid orgasm.

  It had taken him an hour of questionable productivity to get himself to cool off afterwards, and he was fairly certain that Brianna had struggled similarly. Knowing that she was at her desk, fidgeting slightly in her stockings and the bustier she had on underneath her work clothes, had made it even harder for Ethan to get his arousal under control once more.

  He let her into his office, realizing that Cassidy and Jennifer would have already left for the day; it was officially after-hours. Brianna stepped through the door and let it close and lock behind her, before striding towards his desk. Ethan took in the sight of her: long legs in stockings that he knew ended just inches away from her pussy, the skirt she wore that ended maybe two inches above her knee, flirting with the lace part of her stocking, and a blouse that was just full enough to conceal the fact that she was wearing a bustier underneath it.

  “So we’re meeting somewhere?” Brianna looked at him speculatively. Ethan nodded.

  “Here is how it’s going to work,” he began. “In five minutes, you’ll go downstairs and meet the driver one block up from the building. I’ll be meeting with my own driver ten minutes after that, so you have a head start. There’s another blouse in the car waiting for you, and some shoes that you can actually walk in—enough of a change that you won’t feel like you’re in work clothes so much, anymore. We’ll meet at the 21 Club, and then from there the night will go on.”

  It was important to him—and for both of them, ultimately, Ethan thought—to make as certain as possible that no one connected their departures, that no one realized they were actually going on a date. During their workday trips, it would be similar precautions; Brianna would be listed as going to a lunch meeting or some other event in another part of the city, while Ethan would be covered by another excuse, and they would meet up—but they had to make sure the logistics ran smoothly first.

  “Okay,” Brianna said with a nod. “So I guess I’ll meet you at the 21 Club in what—like 30 minutes?” Ethan stood up and stepped around his desk, and Brianna didn’t even tense, or hesitate as he let his hands fall to her waist and leaned in to kiss her on the lips. He held back, knowing that if he got too involved in the kiss he’d certainly make them miss their dinner reservation—and that they’d never even make it to Times Square, much less Madame Tussaud’s.

  “Thirty minutes,” Ethan said, breaking away from her lips. He gave her waist a squeeze and let go of her, stepping back and leaning lightly against his desk. Brianna gave him a flirtatious little look and turned to leave the office, to gather up her things and go downstairs where her driver would be waiting just around the corner from the office building.

  Ethan, for his own part, set a timer on his phone and took care of the last of the business he’d been too distracted to take care of that afternoon while he waited for a sensible amount of time to pass. He could feel his body tingling with the anticipation of being with Brianna again, and the thought of taking her to the Belvedere—to the finest suite they had there—and taking his time with her until they’d both gotten off two or three times.

  The idea of taking off her blouse, of unbuttoning it to reveal the bustier underneath, and tugging her skirt off to look at the lean, curvy black body in the complete ensemble—bustier, barely-there panties, and stockings—was enough to almost make Ethan hard again. But he reminded himself that it was Friday night, that the work week was over, and that they both had plenty of time.

  He would have a good dinner, and he would enjoy her company, and they would take in the figures at the wax museum, and then they would have a couple of drinks at the Belvedere bar, and they would go to the suite waiting for them, and neither would have to even worry about where they needed to be in the morning.

  When his alarm went off, Ethan pinged his driver, and then gathered up what little he needed from his desk, shutting everything down. He looked around and took a quick, deep breath, and headed for his locked door, thinking eagerly about what he and Brianna would do that night.

  Traffic uptown was—predictably—frustrating, even though the post-work rush was beginning to wane. By the time they went to the hotel, there would just be the normal, steady evening clip of cabs and cars and buses navigating the gridded streets, but Ethan forced himself to remain patient in the back seat as he watched the driver navigate and move around the slower vehicles, heading for the 21 Club as quickly as he could.

  Brianna had already been seated by the time he arrived, and Ethan could tell from the look on her face that she was a little apprehensive at the quality of the place he had brought her to. The restaurant—or, more specifically, the Bar Room where their table was—was decorated with scores of toys dangling from the ceiling, and styled with a vintage, 50s feel. Ethan followed the hostess to the table, smiling slightly; he could picture the bustier underneath the loose black blouse that Brianna had changed into, and he couldn’t wait to get his hands on it—and then to peel it off of her.

  He sat down opposite her and watched as Brianna took a sip of her water. “Any idea what you’d like?” She shook her head.

  “I made the mistake of looking at the prices, and now I’m gun-shy,” Brianna admitted. Ethan chuckled.

  “Don’t look at them. It isn’t your money, after all,” he said.

  “That makes me more self-conscious, even,” Brianna countered. Ethan shook his head.

  “If I hadn’t wanted to spend a ton of money I would have picked a different place,” he told her. “Order whatever sounds good—even if that’s five different things.”

  “I don’t want to be so stuffed that I can’t walk after,” Brianna pointed out. Ethan grinned.

  “That’s a good rule—but we can skip Rockefeller Center if you aren’t up for the walk. Madame Tussaud’s is not too hard to navigate.” He settled in his seat and looked over the menus that had been provided for them: there was an a la carte dinner, a pre-theater dinner, and the wine selections; he definitely planned on getting them some wine, but that would have to wait for their food orders. “Let’s just do the a la carte,” Ethan suggested, setting the fixed-price menu aside.

  “Oh god that’s going to add up quick,” Brianna said. Ethan shrugged.

  “Like I said, I didn’t come here to scrimp. Anything you want on that menu, you can order.” That, of course, meant that they had to discuss. Having been raised in Florida, Brianna was familiar with seafood already—so they decided, finally, on multiple courses. They had a little over an hour before Ethan wanted to move on to their next location; Tussaud’s would close at eight, and while he could probably cajole the staff a bit into staying late, maybe 30 minutes, he didn’t want to have to. He wanted to have plenty of time to show Brianna around the museum.

  The waiter came, and Ethan ordered for both of them, after consulting with
Brianna to find out what she wanted. “We will have the shrimp cocktail and the crab cake appetizer, with a bottle of the Bollinger, and then I will have the duck, and this beautiful woman dining with me will have the Hokaido sea scallops. I think we’ll stick with the Bollinger, but if we run out—remember this, if you can—we’ll switch to the Gewurztraminer. I can remind you if you’re too busy.” With that the waiter nodded and left them, and Ethan was left alone with Brianna once more, sipping the water as they waited for their champagne and first courses to arrive.

  “I do not even want to know how much this ends up costing, so don’t let me see,” Brianna told him.

  “Do you know how long it’s been since the last time that I worried about how much something costs?” Ethan shook his head, smiling at her slightly.

  “I know, I know,” Brianna said, rolling her eyes. “I just don’t want to feel like I’m being bought—that’s fair, right?”

  Ethan nodded.

  “You absolutely are not being bought,” he told her. “You’re being compensated for time—not for affection.” The waiter arrived at the table with the bottle of champagne, deeply chilled, and a bucket of ice, and Ethan lapsed into silence as the man opened the bottle, poured their glasses, and set the champagne down in the bucket to keep it chilled, making a few pleasantries and telling them that their first course would be arriving shortly.

  “It felt weird getting that first paycheck direct-deposited in my bank account,” Brianna admitted, as they both took sips of the champagne. Ethan considered that.

  “Yeah, I suppose it would,” he conceded. “I guess I probably didn’t consider that aspect of it for you. It’s been pretty fast.”

  “It has been—not that I’m complaining about the individual aspects,” Brianna said. “It’s just the way they mix together that’s weird.”

  The first course arrived then, and the conversation shifted as they both sampled the succulent seafood, and sipped their champagne.