Billionaire Romance: Club Billionaire (The Complete Series)

by Duval, Lexi

  “Got it,” I say confidently, although inside I'm already screaming. My previous stints behind bars have hardly been in cocktail joints. Mainly just pouring beers and handing out chips.

  With a swish of her hair, Alice begins making her way back toward the door to the social chamber. She stops before reaching the door.

  “One more thing. Don't hassle anyone. Just float around, and be as sexy as you can. We're not only here to serve drinks. We're here to be gorgeous. We're here to please these men, do you understand?”

  I nod, and she's gone. Really, I'm still trying to catch up with what she told me before, hoping that things will grow clearer as the night goes on. Still, several questions linger in my mind that I still have no idea about, and my heart is rattling along like a steam engine, puffing and roaring in my chest.

  “You've got nothing to lose here,” I say out loud to myself, trying to jeer myself up. “It's just another job. Take orders, serve drinks. Nothing could be easier.”

  With my confidence creeping up, I take a breath and launch myself into the main room. I scan it quickly, hoping, for some reason, to see Kyle. As if just seeing the guy who brought me here will give me some support, some reassurance. But he's not in the room.

  I do see several waitresses, however. Aside from Alice, there are two more. With me, that makes four for this evening. A quick count of the number of men here suggests that's about enough. There only look to be about 20.

  Still, 20 billionaires and sons of billionaires in the same room. Many from far flung corners of the globe. I gulp again and try to push the idea of such wealth to the back of my mind, picturing them all as regular men. But they're not regular men. Their lives are so alien to my comprehension that I can barely begin to think about how they must live. Sleeping on beds of money. Bathing in gold. Bedding the most beautiful and eligible women in the world.

  And here I am, little old me, in the middle of it all. The thought, scary and intimidating as it is, brings a smile to my face it's so farcical. That smile, I know, I'll have to keep there until the place is empty. One bad review tonight, and it's game over, back to unemployment and an apartment filled with stoners playing video games.

  I shudder at the thought.

  The night flips into gear, and I quickly encounter the sorts of things Alice was telling me about. The looks, the lustful stares. Some offer sexist remarks, commenting on my ass, my tits. At one point, I even get a slap to the butt, something that brings a raucous amount of laughter from a small group of youngsters. They look about my age, perhaps even younger. Born into obscene wealth. Looking down on lowly people like me.

  I grumble inside, but smile and play along. I even manage a sexy wink at the boy, who looks much like your typical college football player, only dressed in a suit and not in his sports kit. He's got long, curly blond hair, blue eyes, and a surfer's tan. Frankly, I'd imagine he probably spends amble time on exotic beaches.

  As I depart his table, ordered to bring more champagne, I can hear him continuing with his lewd comments and eying my ass. Somehow the thought doesn't repel me as I'd imagine it might. In fact, it gives me a sense of power. Sure, he's looking at me like I'm a piece of meat, but my power comes from the fact that he wants me, and I know it. A woman's pussy is power.

  Mostly, however, I'm merely treated with some mild indifference, particularly by the older gentlemen. They appear to have little interest in a young girl like me, so just make their orders and take their drinks. Some compliment me, or even engage me in light conversation.

  In general, the night passes by seamlessly, and I quickly fall into the role. I smile, I strut sexily, and I even manage to draw a few laughs. Somehow, down here, I feel like a different person. Like I'm acting a role, stepping into a new set of shoes away from the daily grind of the real world up above.

  It's actually strangely liberating.

  Chapter Six

  As the night washes by, a curiosity begins to envelop me. It centers around the doors leading to the other side of the building. On several occasions I see men come and go from them, slinking inside and returning 10, 20, or 30 minutes later. I know they're not bathrooms – those are at the north wall of the social chamber – so what are they?

  At one point in the evening, I find Alice preparing some drinks at the bar.

  “You're doing well this evening,” she says without prompting. “It's obvious the men like you.”

  “Thanks,” I say. “It's not as intimidating as I thought it might be.”

  “Well, rich or not, they all still just men. Give them a flash of cleavage and a good look of leg and they're putty in your hands. You'll do fine here honey.”

  Before she can fly away with her trademark swish of hair, I stop her.

  “So what's on the other side of the building?” I ask.

  Her expression changes subtly. It's hardly noticeable, but obvious enough to pique my interest further.

  “Nothing for you to worry about Belle. How are your tips tonight?” I can tell she's changing the subject, but I have to bite.

  “Amazing,” is all I can manage, thinking of the collection of bills stuffed into my pocket. Most are 20's, but I've even got some 50's and even a 100. When serving, I've hardly had time to count it all up, but I'd imagine I've already got more in tips than I would working a week at my previous job. Maybe even a month.

  “Good. And this is a quiet night, trust me honey. Just wait, things only get better.”

  With that, she knocks the door open with her back and disappears out into the hall which, by now, has begun to grow quiet.

  Soon, however, most have left. As the younger group depart, the surfer boy billionaire comes to me, smirk on his face, and slides a hundred dollar bill between my cleavage.

  “That's for enduring my banter this evening. I'll look forward to seeing you again.”

  He licks his lips, has one last look at my tits, and turns away. Only then do I let out a breath and drop the smile from my face.

  Eventually, there's no one in the room but me. Alice and the two other waitresses have moved through into the bar and server's rooms, leaving me to clear the remaining tables.

  I begin at one by the far wall, near a door leading to the other side of the building. A door I've had my eyes on all night, one I've been cryptically told to forget. The mystery in itself has made me forget completely about Kyle, who I haven't seen since coming down here. In particular, I've barely had space in my head to think about that small kiss he gave me at the top of the stairs.

  As I clear the tables, I feel as if the door is burning into me. I find myself checking it every so often, as if I'll suddenly know what's inside. Each time I turn to look at it, another thought crosses me mind, another potential use for the space beyond it.

  But none of it's real, only thoughts in my head, creations of my imagination. With the final table cleared, I can take it no more.

  Turning to check that there's still no one in the room with me, I creep toward the mystery door. I grab the handle, twist, and let it fall open. I'm greeted with dim lights, and the distant sound of groans.

  My heart rate lurches inside me, and I quickly step inside, letting the door fall gently shut behind me.

  I seem to be in a corridor, stretching ahead of me with doors to the left and right. I pace forward, examining my surroundings. Each door is numbered, starting at ONE and ending at TEN. That's five doors on either side.

  I hear another light groan, and my heart rate quickens again. I can't quite make out what it is, or where it's coming from. It sounds like a woman, like the sound of pleasure...

  I reach the first door and listen. Nothing.

  Beneath the number ONE I notice a light. It's green.

  I take the handle, turn it, and enter. Inside it's pitch black. With a shaking hand, more through intrigue than fear, I feel on the wall for a switch. I feel it and press down. Immediately the room glows to life, so bright it hurts my eyes.

  It's small, square, perhaps only 20 by 20 fe
et. Inside, it's luxuriously adorned in drapes and sheets. It's got an exotic feel, like something from Asia, colorful and scented with jasmine.

  But the most striking feature is the bed, right in the middle of the room. It's large, covered in cushions and blankets and soft duvets. It looks like it's been used.

  I turn back, switch the light off, and return to the corridor. I go to room TWO, the light beneath it also green. I enter, find the light, and gaze at an identically sized, but differently styled room. This one's got a tropical feel. Tasteful still, but with a different scent, a different atmosphere. Again, there's a bed in the middle. It's been used.

  I check the third room and find the same. It's more gothic, darker and more threatening. This time, the bed's untouched.

  When I retreat, I almost fall back over myself.

  There, standing ahead of me entering number FOUR, is a small woman with a white outfit on and holding fresh bedding. She's older, rounder, and much less attractive than the waitresses.

  “Sorry,” she says to me, sounding almost afraid. “I didn't know you were still, um, working.” A sound comes from room FIVE, the grunt of a man, and she drops her eyes.

  She turns to retreat, scuttling off back down the corridor. A cleaner?

  Now I'm turning to room FIVE, and see that beneath the number is a red light. Something grips at me, an urge to twist the handle and go inside. To know what's going on in there, even though I already do. To see it all for myself.

  But I don't have to.

  Suddenly, without warning, the door swings open. There, in front of me, stands Kyle, dressed in nothing but a small towel around his waist. It bulges slightly in the middle, pushed out by his...

  “What's going on out here....”

  His eyes meet mine. “Belle!”

  Over his shoulder, I see the same layout as before. The bed, the drapes, lustful colors of deep red. But this time, on the bed, there's a woman. A naked woman, her hands tied to the posts, her legs spread wide so I can see the detail of her pussy.

  On her face is a look of delirium, of feverish pleasure. She drips with sweat, her forehead beading and shining, her skin sparkling under the light from above; a light that displays every detail of her body, every crease and wrinkle and freckle.

  “Belle,” Kyle repeats, looking slightly shocked. “What are you doing back here?”

  I scan his body, every muscle defined, shining with sweat. His hair is ruffled and slick, his chest pacing up and down with quick breaths. His lips, his soft gorgeous lips, look wet with the fruits of the girl's cunt.

  “I...I'm sorry...”

  It's all I say before I drag my eyes from his perfect form and dart back down the corridor, a thousand thoughts running through my head.

  But with a warm slickness growing between my thighs, there's one thought that dominates them all.

  Kyle.

  PART TWO

  Chapter One

  I dart through the door, back into the main social chamber, and make my way straight to the elevator to take me back to the top floor.

  With my hand hovering over the button to summon it, I hear a voice behind me. It's Alice, and she sounds accusatory.

  “I thought I told you not to go through that door, Belle.”

  I turn on the spot, flushed, my cheeks burning with embarrassment, my chest panting and heaving. She's got a stern look on her face, that of a teacher about to reprimand a naughty student.

  “What did you see?” she questions.

  The ping of the elevator sounds behind me, and I consider turning, stepping inside, and escaping from this place for good. But I don't. Curious to a fault, I find myself stuck to the spot, wanting to know more.

  “A brothel,” I say, unable to hide the indignant tone from my voice. “Rooms used for sex. Is that the real purpose of this place?”

  Alice climbs the steps toward me, drawing closer. Her voice is calm, collected, when she speaks.

  “The real purpose of this place is to provide these men with what they want. To satisfy their desires. That's why we're here.”

  “We? No...no....I'm not here for that.”

  Alice smiles and nods. “Come with me, Belle. Let's have a drink.”

  She turns, confidently, and makes her way back down the steps. I hesitate before following, suddenly suspicious and on edge. She moves through toward the door to the bar and I step in behind her.

  “What would you like?” she asks.

  “Gin and tonic please.”

  She begins preparing the drinks like a pro, making sure mine is nice and stiff. I taste it and instinctively cough. It's strong. Too strong for my usual tastes, but right now it's what I need.

  “Let me explain exactly what this place is to you, Belle.”

  She takes a sip of her own drink and places is carefully down on the bar.

  “We are here to service the needs of these men. But we only go as far as we wish. I assume you caught sight of something you weren't supposed to see?”

  I nod vacantly, thinking of the girl tied up to the bed, her legs wide open, her body streaming in sweat. And Kyle, perfectly formed, like a Demigod sent down from above to tease and torture all women with his beauty...

  “Belle?” Alice says, regaining my attention. I draw my eyes back to her, my mind still populated with images of lust and limbs and the scent of sex.

  “I saw...a girl, naked and...a guy...”

  “Right, well she isn't a prostitute, I can assure you of that. She will not be paid for what you saw. She is there of her own accord, by her own choice. There is no coercion here. A man may wish to offer a more sizable tip to such women, if they wish, but they are not required to do so. These men think they have all the power, but down here, we have power too. The power to say no.”

  “And what about you?” I ask. “Do you only serve drinks and food?”

  A smile washes over her face, a hundred memories flowing through her mind. “No. I've worked here for years now. The allure of some of these men is difficult to resist. Some, I've slept with, yes. Many times.”

  Her candor is refreshing, at least, given that I was brought down here not knowing the full details. I suppose, Kyle can be blamed for that.

  “So I guess that's why they only employ beautiful women?”

  “Of course. Each of these girls is here at the invite of one of the members. If they wish, they can leave at any time and never return. That never happens.”

  “So who invited you here?”

  “A friend,” she says. “Someone I've known for some time. The same man who invited you.”

  “Kyle?”

  She nods. “I knew him in college.”

  “You went to college?” I can't contain the surprise in my voice.

  She nods again.

  “And have you ever...”

  She laughs. “With Kyle? No no. Not him. We are nothing more than friends. He helped me when I was struggling for work, told me about this place. Believe me, when I first came here, I was like you. Scared, timid, completely out of my depth. Now I make more money than I used to working on Wall Street...”

  “Wall Street?!” I say, shocked.

  She laughs again. “I know. Strange career trajectory. I lost my job during the financial crisis. I had a nice apartment, a good social life, a car, exotic vacations, all of that. Then I lost it all and was left with nothing but debt. I ran into Kyle one day and he told me he knew something that might suit me. And the rest is history.”

  “So you started working here as a waitress only?”

  “At first. But like I say, some of these men are very alluring. Power is attractive, Belle. You'll realize that soon.”

  Again, I think of Kyle. His naked, shining flesh. Those dark brown eyes. That bulge beneath his towel...

  “So, the real question, Belle, is whether you're going to come back on Friday?”

  I look up at her from behind my glass.

  “Friday is the busiest evening here, aside from special events. I need all the
girls I can get.”

  I absentmindedly run my fingers over my pocket, feel the wedge of money inside. I've got enough to pay a month's rent already, by the feel of it.

  “So I only need to serve drinks and take orders?”

  Alice nods. “If you wish.” She winks at me subtly. “So, I'll see you on Friday then.”

  With that she sinks the rest of her drink, twists around, and disappears from the room without another word. Leaving me there, with only my thoughts, and plenty on my mind to ponder.

  Chapter Two

  “So, so, how's the new job?”

  I'm sitting in my smoke filled living room, surrounded on both sides by Trey and Glenn. They're both looking at me eager-eyed, keen to know how my night went.

  I shrug, and keep my expression placid. “It was OK. Just like any job really.”

  “Well, can we come down and get those free drinks you promised?” Trey looks at Glenn, the two of them trying to concoct a free night out.

  “Um, not the best idea,” I say. “Too early in the job.”

  Of course, the truth is that these two have no idea where I work, and never will. Their father, Aaron Gilbert, is a wealthy man, but pales in comparison to the men I met the previous night. Unless he sees a dramatic upturn in his fortunes, he'll never become a member of the club, and neither will his sons.

  So, I lie to them, as I was told to do by Alice. Club Billionaire, it seems, is like Fight Club...you never fucking talk about it. Only a member can mention it to another member, and any girl who ventures down there on invite is subject to the strictest of confidentiality clauses. I've already signed several forms to that effect, which pretty much make it impossible, and extremely dangerous, for me to utter a word about the place beyond the company who know about it.

  These two stoners, however, are like a couple of jackrabbits. When they're not high off their bong they both appear to have some sort of mild form of ADHD. Both are chatty, fidgety, and intent on asking questions. If I didn't know, I'd suggest the weed has a medicinal use to calm them the fuck down.