The Billionaire's Mistress Complete Series: Alpha Billionaire Romance

by M. S. Parker

  “And maybe that's a good place to go next.” He seemed to gather himself as he took my hand again. “Stopping.”

  I gave him a puzzled look.

  “If, at any time, I do anything that you don't feel comfortable with, whether it's a word I use or a touch, tell me.” His expression was serious. “I'll stop when you say to stop.”

  “And if we're having sex?” I asked. “The room you showed me... I know enough about that kind of thing to know that stop sometimes doesn't mean stop.”

  “If you want it to, it will,” he said. “Or we can come up with safe words.”

  “I like that idea,” I said slowly. “Something, maybe, to signal that I'm not sure about what we're doing, and something else to stop?”

  He nodded. “In a BDSM relationship, safe words are essential.”

  “Is that what you want?” I asked. I hadn't considered that. “A BDSM relationship?”

  “I'd be lying if I said I didn't want that to be part of our relationship,” he said. “But I don't want that to define us.”

  “Okay,” I said. “So, safe words?”

  “How about we keep it simple,” he said. “Yellow for slow down, you're not sure. Red for stop.”

  “Yellow for slowing down, red for stop,” I repeated. “That's easy enough.”

  “And if you can't say them, we need a hand signal.”

  I held up my hand, thumb and pinky finger out, the other three down. “Do you know the sign language alphabet?” He nodded. “So a 'y' for yellow, 'r' for red?”

  He smiled. “I like that.” His smile widened and he shook his head. “I can't believe I'm having this conversation with you.”

  “Why's that?” I asked.

  He reached up and tucked some hair behind my ear. “Because I've wanted it from the moment I first met you.”

  I shivered at his touch. “Then what comes next?”

  “Guidelines,” he said. “There are a lot of things that can happen during sex and I don't ever want to do something you don't want me to do. I know there are things I might want that maybe you'll need talked into, but I need to know if there are definite things that are off the table. Do you want to talk about them now or wait until we're in the moment?”

  “Are you going to want an explanation?” I asked, wondering if it'd be better to get into it now or later.

  “No,” he said. “Not unless you want to give me one.”

  I nodded, thinking for a moment before answering. “You can't tie me up or restraint me. I don't do bondage.”

  “Okay,” he said.

  I thought I saw a flash of disappointment in his eyes, but he didn't sound upset. Part of me hoped that, maybe, someday, I could give him everything he wanted. A bigger part feared that I wouldn't ever be able to do it and I'd lose him, but I silenced that part of me for the moment. No use borrowing trouble.

  “There are some other things that I'm not sure about,” I said. “But part of learning to trust you will be overcoming some of those things.” This time, it was me who reached up to push back wayward hair. His eyes closed for a moment as I ran my fingers through the silky strands. “Let's take that as it comes, shall we?”

  He opened his eyes and they were nearly purple. “Then I think there are only two other things we need to talk about. First, work.” He glanced toward the elevator. “I can't show favoritism or treat you any differently here.”

  “I know,” I said. “And I wouldn't want it any other way. At work, it's employer, employee.” I looked down at where we were holding hands.

  “Once we're done here.” He grinned as if he could read my mind.

  “And two?” I asked, holding his hand tighter.

  “This Saturday evening, are you free?”

  “Um, yes.” I thought I knew where this was going.

  “Then will you go out with me?” he asked. “A date. A real, proper date.” He winked at me. “And we can see where things go from there.”

  “I'd like that.” I smiled. I'd never been on a date before. Sure, there had been guys in school who'd tried to ask me out, but I'd never gone. Especially back then, I'd been too anxious, worried about what would happen if they got me alone in their cars, or wherever they were taking me.

  “I'll pick you up at six?”

  I almost asked if he needed my address, but then I remembered he'd been there before.

  He stood and pulled me up with him, pulling me into his arms. His eyes shone as he lowered his head and kissed me again. His mouth was firm on mine, but not demanding. I felt his tongue tease the corner of my mouth, then disappear before the kiss could deepen. He broke away, but kept me in his arms.

  He sighed. “How am I going to be able to work with you and not do this?” He brushed his lips across mine again, then released me. Reluctance was clear on his face as he took a step back.

  I knew what he would say next, so I said it first. “I should go now. I have work to do.”

  “Yes, you do,” he said. “And a boss can be a real bastard if it's not done on time.”

  I laughed and the mood shifted into something lighter. Still, I stayed a moment longer, enjoying a feeling I rarely got to have. Peace. Finally, I turned away, knowing I'd get behind if I stayed too much longer. If I could make myself leave at all. Being around Rylan made me feel different, better, and I knew I would come to crave that feeling. If I wasn't already.

  As I walked toward the elevator, it opened. Christophe's eyes widened in surprise when he saw me.

  “Jenna,” he said.

  I smiled at him. “Good morning.”

  He smiled back. “Same to you.” As I stepped onto the elevator, he continued, “Maybe I'll come down and see you when I'm done here?”

  “I have a lot of work to do, Christophe.” I pressed the button for my floor. “But feel free to stop in to say 'hi' if you happen to be around.”

  When his face brightened, I wondered if I should've made that invitation. I'd have to think of some way to let him know I wasn't interested without exposing my new relationship with Rylan. The doors slid closed and I pushed the thought from my mind. That was something for another day. Today, I was going to have a hard enough time focusing on the project I had waiting for me.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Maybe this hadn't been such a great idea. Put me in a situation where I'm going to fuck someone's brains out and I'll know exactly what to do. Sit me in front of a computer and I could write and rewrite systems forwards and backwards in my sleep. Confrontational sleaze-bags I could handle. Self-righteous bitches were no problem. I had my walls, my shields, all of the things I'd spent years cultivating, but they weren't going to work here. In fact, if this thing with Rylan was going to work at all, I had to let him in.

  And I wanted it to work. I wanted it so badly. I'd never thought I could want someone like this.

  And I would fuck everything up, I knew it.

  As I paced the short distance between my second-hand couch and the door, those thoughts kept going round and round in my head. I could feel myself heading toward that place where the cycle of thoughts would overwhelm me. I forced myself to stop and slow my breathing, counting each deliberate breath. I could do this. I'd survived things no one should ever even imagine. I was stronger than anyone realized.

  I kept telling myself that as I waited for Rylan to arrive.

  My hand fluttered nervously across my outfit. Rylan hadn't told me to dress a specific way so I'd taken the risk and decided to go with something different than the 'tough girl' clothes he was used to seeing me in. Okay, so it wasn't some frilly girly thing, but I wasn't wearing boots either.

  A couple weeks ago, Rylan had given me my time-and-a-half check from my work the night we'd kissed for the first time, and there'd been a nice bonus in there too since the work we'd done had solved the problem. Since there was quite a bit of extra I hadn't been counting on, I'd put it aside for something special. Yesterday, I'd decided to use it to buy a new outfit.

  It was black, setting off my
fair skin and pale eyes, the material clingy enough to show off my curves. I'd picked one with a short skirt, remembering what Rylan had said once about my legs. The hem hit just a couple inches below my ass, making it possible for me to walk and sit without flashing my panties at anyone... if I was careful. The neckline was modest, showing enough cleavage to be attractive but not so much that I could be considered inappropriate for a fancy restaurant. To compensate for the late November weather and short skirt, I'd gone with long sleeves. The fact that they also covered the scar on the inside of my left arm and only hinted at the barbed wire tattoo around my right wrist was just a bonus.

  As I looked in the mirror, for the first time, I wondered if I should have changed my hair color to something more normal, more acceptable. No, I told myself. I'd made a promise years ago, back when I was starting to heal from all the shit that had been done to me, that I'd never be anything other than myself and, right now, myself had blue hair. If Rylan couldn't accept that, too bad...but he had accepted that, I realized. He hadn't once commented about any of the things that made people look at me like I was a freak.

  A knock at the door interrupted my thoughts and I was grateful for it. One of the things I always had to be careful about was getting stuck in these cyclical thoughts or memories that would play over and over again. Living a nightmare for the first thirteen years of my life had made it difficult to accept that bad wasn't my normal state of being. Often, the better things got, the harder those things hit me.

  I hurried over to the door, hoping that Rylan liked the way my new heels made my legs look. When I opened the door and saw his eyes widen, I knew they'd been worth every penny. His eyes slid up my legs and over my body. By the time his gaze met mine, his eyes were as dark as they had been the night we'd kissed, as dark as the night we'd slept together for the first time.

  I swallowed hard. Shit. I'd said 'for the first time,' which meant I was already thinking about there being a second time. With him looking at me that way, though, it was hard not to think about sex. The man practically breathed it.

  “Wow.” He finally spoke. “Now I'm starting to wish I'd chosen a better first date.”

  Considering he was wearing a pair of dark gray dress slacks and a black sweater that showed off his amazing physique, I would've been happy to spend the entire night staring at him. Instead of doing that, I asked a question, “What did you choose?”

  He smiled at me and my stomach twisted.

  “There's a concert at the college tonight. They're doing a whole hors d'oeuvres with cheese and wine thing beforehand.” His expression turned sheepish and he ran his hand through his hair. “I thought it sounded nice and now I'm thinking it's a bit–”

  “It's perfect,” I interrupted. A thrill went through me when I realized he was almost as nervous as I was. I didn't know why. There was absolutely no way this was his first date.

  “Can I be honest?” he asked.

  I braced myself for something bad.

  “I've never met anyone like you before.” He took a step toward me, his gaze burning. “You're this crazy combination of strength and vulnerability.”

  I flushed. I should have hated that he could see beyond the tough exterior I put up, but instead, it made me want him even more.

  He was close enough to touch me now and that's what he did, putting his hand on my cheek. My heart did a stutter-step.

  “I feel like if I take one wrong step, I'm going to lose you.” His eyes flicked down to my lips and then his thumb brushed over the bottom one. “Tell me that you'll give me a chance, an honest chance to make this work. Promise me.”

  I let my tongue dart out against the tip of his thumb and his fingers flexed on my face. “I promise.” And then I did something I'd never done before. I asked him to kiss me.

  His mouth came down on mine a moment after the words were spoken and I leaned into him. My hands gripped the front of his shirt as one hand cupped the back of my head and the other slid down my spine to rest at the small of my back. He pushed his tongue between my lips, making it clear who was in control of the kiss. It should have panicked me, but instead sent a jolt of arousal straight through me. I doubted that I'd be able to so easily give up control in sex, but right now, I closed my eyes and let him thoroughly explore my mouth. He took his time, scraping his teeth across the bottom of my lip, then lightly biting down. I moaned, pressing my body more tightly against him. I could feel his cock hardening against me and felt a burst of pride that I could make a man like this want me.

  “Oh, Jenna,” he breathed my name and it sent a shiver down my spine. “You have no idea how badly I want you.”

  Considering how damp my panties were, I thought I had a pretty good idea. I wondered what he'd say if I suggested we skip the date and head in to my bedroom.

  He took a step back and I could see the reluctance on his face.

  “But I want to do this right,” he said. “I meant what I said before. I don't want this to be about sex.” He smiled, his eyes glinting. “Or, only about sex.”

  “So, concert, cheese, wine?” My entire body was still tingling from the kiss and I was ready for more, but knowing he was willing to stop rather than take care of what his body obviously wanted meant more to me than he could know.

  “You really don't think it's a stupid idea?”

  I shook my head. “I was worried you were going to take me to some expensive restaurant where I'd use the wrong fork.”

  He laughed and held out his hand. I took it, enjoying the way it felt as my palm slid across his. His fingers threaded between mine and the gesture made me feel safer than anything else ever had. I let him pull me against his side as we walked toward the stairs.

  “You know,” he said. “You should probably look into moving somewhere that has a working elevator.” He grinned down at me. “I'm all for working out, but I'm not looking forward to having to climb three flights of stairs every time I want to see you.”

  I smiled back. “I guess that means we'll have to spend more time at your place.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  I'd been joking when I'd said we'd have to spend more time at Rylan's place, but after an amazing night of music and expensive food, he'd asked me if I wanted to call it a night or come back to his place.

  Of course I wanted to go with him. I loved that we'd gone on a real date, but every moment I'd spent touching him tonight had left my body craving more. I would explode if he just dropped me off at home with only a good-night kiss.

  We made our good-byes to the few other alumni who'd remembered Rylan from his days at CSU and made our way to his car. I'd been a little surprised when I'd realized that he'd driven and even more so when I saw that his car wasn't some flashy sports car but rather a hybrid. If it had been some other rich guy, I probably would've suspected that he'd driven a hybrid to make it look like he was some environmentally conscious do-gooder. Everything I'd observed about Rylan, however, said he was as genuine as could be.

  When we'd walked into the concert hall, there were plenty of looks sent my way, but Rylan had ignored them all. He'd put his hand at the small of my back and steered me toward a waiter who was serving champagne. Each person who'd come up to talk to him about being one of CSU's most successful alumni, he'd made a point of introducing me the same way. While I knew most of it was due to the fact that I was here with him, I had to admit that it was nice to be recognized for my accomplishments rather than my appearance.

  Now, as I sat in the passenger's seat, I couldn't help but look at him and wonder how this had happened. How had someone as fucked up as me managed to find someone like Rylan? Not just a half-way decent guy, but a great guy. The kind of man who any woman in her right mind would want to be with.

  “Is something wrong?” Rylan asked as we headed out of the main part of the city toward the lake that his property edged.

  “No, why?”

  “You keep staring at me like you expect me to do something strange like turn into a pumpkin or a monster
or something.”

  “No, not a pumpkin,” I mused, more to myself than to him.

  “You know we don't have to do anything.” His voice was gentle. “I don't have any expectations.”

  I smiled at him and took his hand, placing it on the bare skin of my thigh. “You might not, but I do.”

  I heard him catch his breath, but he didn't remove his hand from my leg.

  “And what might those expectations be?” The tone of his voice had shifted and I knew I was responsible for it.

  I also knew he was giving me the chance to set the boundaries for tonight. Butterflies fluttered in my stomach. I'd known when I told Rylan that I wanted to try to have a real relationship with him that it would be full of these moments. Full of moments where I would have to decide what step I was getting ready to take, and how much I was going to tell him when I set the guidelines.

  I'd been thinking about this moment from the time I'd woken up from my first sex dream. I was equal parts terrified to say it but also wanting it so badly that I could feel every part of me throbbing in anticipation.

  “I want you to be in control.” My heart hammered against my chest as I said the words.

  “Are you sure?” He raised his hand from my leg to wrap it around mine.

  “Yes.” The word was shaky, but I was certain. “No tying me up, but the rest we can take one step at a time.” I risked a look over at him. “Is that okay?”

  He made a sound that I couldn't quite identify and raised our hands to his mouth, turning them so that he could brush his lips against the back of my hand. “You can't know how much it means to me that you're willing to try.” He squeezed my hand. “Just promise me one thing.”

  “Yes?” I made it a question rather than an acceptance.

  “Do you remember the safe words we discussed?”

  I nodded.

  “Please promise me, no matter what, you'll use them.” He pulled into the driveway of his magnificent house, but didn't get out, rather turning to me with a serious expression on his face. “I mean it, Jenna.” He reached out with his free hand and cupped the side of my face. “I never want to do anything that could hurt or bother you. I don't care what it is. A touch. A word.”