Shagged: A Billionaire Romance

by Alex Wolf

  As the sun slowly set and she carefully put the papers to one side, ready to continue organizing them the next day, there was a soft, polite knock at the office door. It creaked open and the butler peered through the crack.

  “Mr. Spencer wishes to see you before you leave, Miss.”

  Christina nodded. “Now is good. I’m done.”

  “No, he asked me to bring you to him.”

  “Okay.” She nodded once more and looked over the table. It should be fine. She was at a good stopping point and would be able to carry on where she left off. Walking up to the door, she smiled at the butler. He stared, turned around, and walked down the hallway.

  Christina followed through the house. It felt like being walked through a modern art gallery. The ceiling was tall, the marble floors gleamed, the clicking of her heels echoed across the huge empty spaces.

  “In here, Miss.” He made a sweeping gesture. It felt like being transported back to Victorian times. Surrounded by polite, tired, sour-faced servants who did anything their master asked of them. Who even had a butler these days? And how did someone manage to replicate the structure of a Victorian house without keeping any of the order and efficiency? The world Matty Spencer lived in was a strange combination of modern and old.

  The room she walked into, on the other hand, was very modern. Maybe a little bit too perfect for her tastes. It was like a bedroom taken directly from a designer's magazine. The four-poster bed was made of twisted steel and covered in delicate floral patterns. The red velvet bedding matched the immaculate curtains, already drawn over the windows. It was barely lit by a faint orange glow from an array of industrial-style lamps.

  She turned her head and tried to tamp down her anger. Her entire body heated at once.

  Matty Spencer lay right in the middle of it. He was on top of the covers rather than under them. He was completely undressed and lounging there in nothing but boxer briefs.

  Christina wasn’t sure what to do. Her usual response would be to tell him to fuck off and walk right out of the room, however, she thought maybe that was the reaction he was after, judging by the grin plastered across his face. For some reason, Mr. Spencer’s primary occupation seemed to be one of making her uncomfortable.

  “I just need a report so that I can rest easy. Know I’m in good hands.” Matty grinned.

  Christina stared off at the wall and tapped a foot on the ground. “I’ve organized about a third of what needs to be done in the office. It will take a week before I can create a schedule for your household.” Her words came out fast and on each short breath of hers.

  Don’t fucking look at him.

  “Just don't get distracted.” His grin widened farther. “By all the paperwork, that is. Nor forget that I have other things which need addressing.”

  Christina bit the inside of her cheek and did her best not to throw something at him, or glance over at the sleek contours of his finely-toned body. “Shouldn’t be a problem. I’m not easily distracted.” Her words came through her gritted teeth.

  “Come here.” He patted the bed.

  Christina thought her heart might leap through her chest. Her breathing became labored, palms slickened, and it took everything in her power to compose herself.

  She hated that he affected her this way. Why couldn’t he cease being ridiculous for all of five minutes, and let her do her job and leave?

  He picked up his cell phone. “So I can show you my schedule.”

  She should just tell him to email it to her. That was what she always did. Why was she walking over to his bed to look at his damn phone? Her body was betraying her brain.

  She needed to show some self-control, some professionalism. Her face needed a slap, or a bucket of ice water thrown on it. She made her way over and sat down on the edge of the bed, taking the phone from his hand and glancing at it. She couldn't help but notice that the butler had left and shut the door behind him.

  Matty's hand rested against her stockinged thigh as she scrolled through his weekly schedule. Excitement built in the pit of her stomach. The tips of his fingers were like fire on her leg. Electricity coursed through her, and her mind went to complete shit. It took everything she had to will herself to focus on the screen.

  She should stand up, give his phone back, and walk out.

  Without thinking, she uncrossed her legs and felt his hand glide up her inner thigh. Her breath hitched.

  It only took a moment, but his hands slid to her waist and pulled her back against his hard chest. His skin was warm and smelled of body wash.

  As his hands slipped around her, she knew she should’ve slapped him—told him off like she always did when clients got handsy. How could he be so forward? Confident? Act like she was nothing more than his property, to do with as he pleased?

  But she didn't stop him. She couldn’t.

  The tension between them all afternoon had been palpable. He locked eyes with her as she was nearly seated in his lap.

  His hand slid up her thigh again, finally resting on the top of her stocking. He grazed her exposed flesh at the line where the elastic ended with his fingertips.

  His hand dug firmly into her thigh. “What do you say then?”

  Chapter Five

  Adrenaline coursed through Matty’s body. This was it. She hadn't known it when she walked in that morning, but she was going to be his. That was often the way it went. Few women walked into his house with the express intention of ending up in his bed. Most had not even considered it. Most of them wanted it, but believed he was out of their league. That was usually true. But if he wanted them, they ended up on their back. That was the way of Matty Spencer’s world.

  And why not? He was a highly desirable man. He knew this. And if he desired a woman, and she desired him back, then it was only right for them to enjoy each other for a few hours.

  He most definitely wanted Christina. And, from her response so far, she seemed to want him just as much.

  The soft, smooth flesh of her upper thigh drove him wild. He wanted to rip those stockings off and feel her silky legs crossed behind his back as he fucked her mercilessly. Even though she was so stern, so serious, everything about her screamed sex and sensuality. In his experience, he’d learned that the most uptight of women usually were the wildest in his bed. Christina was the entire package—gorgeous and clearly repressed sexually.

  Even now, as he embraced her with his hand roaming up her thigh, she remained calm and collected. But he could feel the heat from her pussy. Beneath her coldness she was still a woman with needs, practically begging for him to take it.

  He pressed his lips lightly to her neck, and exhaled warm breath down her skin, just to watch the tiny hairs rise to attention. He sucked down her neck, hard enough to leave a mark—a reminder that she had surrendered her body to him. He wanted to mark her—let her know that all her coldness, professionalism, and defiance meant nothing to him. She was his.

  His cock had already risen to the challenge, ready to make sure she was thoroughly broken and satisfied—a sweaty, chaotic mess in his sheets.

  “Let's get you out of this dress, shall we?” He ran his tongue along the shell of her ear, reaching for the zip that ran down the length of her back.

  It was as though his words had woken her up from a trance. She startled. Goosebumps pebbled on the back of her neck, and she tensed all at once.

  “I’m busy.” Her words came out on a gasp, and she shoved him back as she rose from the bed.

  “Busy?” He gawked at her, perplexed. “Thought the work day was over?”

  He leaned back a little in the bed, enough to give her a view of the massive erection tenting his boxer briefs. Matty wanted to provide her with a perfect view of what she was passing up.

  She smiled politely, but he saw her eyes glance at his dick. Her tongue poked through her front teeth, and then quickly retreated. “It is. I need to get going.”

  “Need to get going where?” He could already feel her slipping away, and he found hi
mself wanting her to stay, even if it wasn’t to have her brains fucked out.

  “Somewhere that’s not—” She paused and looked around. “Here.” Her heels clicked on the floor as she marched to the door. She stopped before opening it and he felt a sudden surge of adrenaline rush through his veins. Perhaps she was rethinking things?

  She set his mobile down on the little dresser to her right, then turned to the door and opened it.

  “See you tomorrow,” he said.

  “We’ll see.” She walked out of the room.

  Matty’s stare moved from the hall to the empty crease in the bed where she’d just been sitting, then over to his phone. Yep. She was gone.

  What in the actual fuck?

  Had he missed something? She’d been completely receptive to his advances. She’d moved to sit on his bed, next to him, as he lay there practically naked. She’d spread her legs to allow him access to her pussy, which he now regretted not taking. Matty smiled as he thought about the mark he’d left on her neck. At least that gave him a hint of satisfaction.

  And sure, it was a woman's prerogative to change her mind. But this sudden turn had completely baffled him. He’d thought it was a done deal once the legs opened up.

  He was used to a little resistance. Or to someone asking to meet him the next day, or at the weekend. Or to the usual, “I have a boyfriend, please don't.” And he knew just what to do or say in these situations. Remind them the door was right there, ask them to leave, and watch as they turned around and said that it was okay, that they would stay a bit longer, but he had to behave himself.

  And in most cases, this resistance was just an excuse to make themselves feel better about the debauchery in which they were about to engage. Maybe they didn’t want to seem too slutty. Maybe they didn’t want to be caught cheating. Or maybe they just didn’t want their boss to know they were banging his client.

  All of them always had one thing in common, though. They desperately wanted Matty’s dick inside them. They were just unsure of the social consequences.

  It merely took a little finesse to show them that he could be trusted to keep it private. That he didn’t care about their image or who they might upset. After that, they would relax a bit. And after a little of the ol’ push and pull, they would eventually wind up beneath him, screaming his name.

  He always made good on his side of the bargain too. None of his conquests had been broadcast, nor had they been exposed. And all of them had their wildest fantasies fulfilled. Just a quick romp and a polite goodbye as they staggered from his room. Because Matty Spencer knew how to fuck, and he knew how to fuck well.

  He was also used to some women not being interested at all. That was fine. He knew he wasn't everyone's cup of tea and, in fact, he’d half expected Christina to ask him to send her an email and walk right out of the room. That would’ve made a lot of sense too. A very small number of women were genuinely in a relationship with someone they were loyal to, or they were a lesbian. It happened on occasion. But this little experiment had told him that Christina wasn’t so noble as to resist his charm. It was good to know she lacked at least a tiny bit of self-control. She’d shown her hand before she left.

  Not that it would bother him if he didn’t claim her eventually. What was the odd failed conquest or two? The vast majority of women all but begged to get into his bed before the day came to an end. He always made sure they didn't regret it. They might meet up again once or twice after that, but then he’d avoid them like the plague. Some women seemed to think the opportunity to fuck Matty meant a relationship. That was always an unfortunate and unsettling conversation.

  But his theory of the nice, clean divide between girlfriends, lays, and uninterested women had always been supported by the data. They either wanted him or they didn't.

  But not Christina. She had things to do. Things which were, apparently, more important than the night of her life with one of the world's most important men.

  Perhaps he ought to give her a little more space. She would, no doubt, come back to him. Whatever had scared her away wouldn't last. She just needed a little persuading.

  Rising early the next morning, he decided to make a good impression on her. She didn’t like that he was unorganized and boyish? Fine. He could be sharp and professional if that was what it took. He would prove her wrong, simply to rub it in her face. Let her know she’d made a mistake.

  He stared in the mirror and adjusted his tie, simultaneously feeling like an absolute idiot. Some of his friends insisted that a suit that was expensive and original enough could look relaxed and youthful. He didn’t agree in the slightest.

  He only wore suits because they conveyed power, and it helped draw the line between employer and employee. Suits command without asking, and the last thing Matty Spencer wanted to waste time with was ordering people around to do shit that should be easily done on its own. There was also the fact Christina wore impeccably-pressed office wear, even though she was not working in an office, so he would make sure that he dressed twice as well as her.

  Walking into his office, he was surprised to see that Mr. Johannes had already let Christina in and she was hard at work filing papers. By the looks of it, she’d been there for an hour at least. He paused just outside the door and stared at her for a few seconds that seemed an eternity. She looked amazing yet again.

  She wore a fitted burgundy suit dress like it was a second skin, hugging every curve, seamlessly merging with her bronzed shoulders and neck. Her hair was tied firmly back and shimmering in the sunlight that streamed in through the window. Her makeup was as sharp as if painted on canvas by an artist.

  “Good morning.” She furrowed her brow. Christina had definitely noticed the suit, but he couldn't tell if she liked it, or if she was prepared to remark on it.

  She looked back down at the papers and carried on with her task.

  “You're early.”

  “Here at a normal working time, Mr. Spencer. There’s a lot of work to do. Not all of us can sleep in and get away with it.”

  His hands balled into fists at his sides, but he wouldn’t give her the satisfaction of getting to him. He nodded and watched her hands swiftly gliding over the table. Usually, he wasn't even awake this early, much less dressed, and much, much less working. It was too overwhelming, first thing in the morning. He needed a coffee and some time to relax before he could even be bothered to open an email. And then he would need his breaks during the day.

  But not this woman. She would just sit there and work. How did she do it? His own attention span lasted him an hour at most. Judging by the pile of papers she’d managed to sort, she’d been going strong the entire morning, fully focused.

  Incredible.

  “Too bad you left so early last night. I hope you made it where you needed to go.”

  She shook her head and kept her eyes glued to the papers. “To be fair, I didn’t have anything I needed to do. I was simply uncomfortable.”

  Bitch.

  “You didn't seem uncomfortable when you spread your legs on my bed.”

  Christina coughed as if choking and then quickly composed herself.

  Matty couldn’t help but feel like he’d got one up on her. He rather enjoyed getting a rise out of Christina.

  “I was when you asked me to take my dress off. I shouldn’t have been on your bed at all. Our relationship needs to remain strictly professional.”

  The hell it will.

  Matty grinned wider, loving how uneasy Christina appeared. “Why?”

  “Because I’m here to do a job, not to find a date.”

  “Who said anything about dating?”

  Not that Matty wouldn’t mind a date with Christina, but he had a reputation to maintain. A date, huh? Now there was an idea. But she would no doubt shoot it down instantly. She seemed to be determined to backpedal from what she had done last night.

  “You’re making my point for me, Mr. Spencer.”

  Well, he wasn't about to say it was wrong to hit
on her. She’d embraced him. She’d encouraged him. And as soon as she walked away, he’d stopped. He’d done nothing wrong at all. If it was wrong for a man like him to make advances on a woman like her, especially when she practically invited him to, then he didn’t want to be right, ever.

  She’d have to be a lot more determined than this if she wanted to put him off. Especially now that she’d confessed her interest in him. How did she expect him to back down now that he knew he stood a chance? Women were so perplexing at times. Always denying themselves pleasure for the sake of their image.

  “How about a business meeting over a meal?”

  Christina looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. “Subtle.” She returned to her paperwork.

  “I’m serious. Would you like to discuss the plans you have for this house over a meal?”

  “And what does that look like?” She set her papers down again.

  “Perhaps you’d like to go to dinner with me tonight? We'll go out somewhere nice, have a bite to eat and a glass of wine, then talk about what you’ve seen and how you plan to rescue me from the disaster that is my life.”

  “That sounds a lot like a date. Which I specifically said I didn’t want—” she made a show of looking at a non-existent watch, “around thirty seconds ago.”

  “I simply want to discuss things over a meal.”

  “Why don’t we do it right now?” She stared with her sharp brown eyes.

  “Why not later? I’m a busy man. I have many things to do today.”

  She nodded at him. “You appear very busy.”

  “Look, it’s just a thank you dinner. For all the hard work you’re doing. I know some amazing places.”

  “I’ve been to dinner in London before.” She continued to swipe through papers.

  “Sure, but I know some places you could never afford, and I’d like to treat you to one. Anything on the menu that you want.” Matty’s lips curled up into a grin. Surely that’d do the trick.

  “I'll think about it.” Her words came through a flexed jaw.