The Billionaire's Curvy Submissive (BBW Billionaire Erotica Novel)

by Denise Avery

  “Fuck that.” Claire uttered fiercely. “I’m nobody’s depository.”

  As if in response a foreign sound caught hold of Claire’s ear and attention. It made her stop in her tracks and listen intently. The sound was familiar and seemed to be drawing closer, but she was could not place it. Was it a swarm of something? An animal? A big one? Cold terror shot through Claire’s spine wondering what was lumbering toward her at what sounded like break-neck speed. Was it a cougar? A bear? How do you fight off a bear? Why did she leave her mace in the trailer? Was she going to be mauled to death or eaten, never to be seen again?

  The noise swelled and rose to a crashing din closing in all around her. In a sheer state of panic she stood frozen to the spot awaiting the arrival of her death. As she whispered some gibberish prayers of religion the forest burst open before her,—something was barreling exactly in her direction. Claire threw herself out of the thing’s way clutching onto the trunk of a nearby tree. Finding its branches she scrambled on to the lowest one and out of harm’s way. She then tore up along the tree until finally running out of hand holds. With sap coating her fingers in a sticky mess she realized she’d reached the top. She was trapped.

  “Well” she said to the sky, ...

  * * * * *

  Chapter 10

  * * * * *

  The entire world ground to a standstill as Claire looked on, horrified, at the scene playing out before her. Sam, the burly mountain man she had just held inside her a moment ago, had a rifle pointed square between the eyes of her fuming husband, Parker. It was like something out a movie—a horrible, bloody nightmare of a movie where everyone dies terrible, senseless deaths. Claire tried to force air down into her lungs, but it was as though she was suddenly submerged in water. She felt that she would drown in the horrible tension that hung all about the trio, weighing them down, crushing them.

  “Claire,” Sam snarled, keeping his eyes trained on Parker’s steely face, “Who is this person, and what does he think he’s doing on my property?”

  “Claire,” Parker snapped, “Why don’t you tell this fool that I’m your husband, come to collect you from whatever silly hissy fit—”

  “Husband?” Sam said incredulously. Keeping the rifle pointed in Parker’s face, he looked toward Claire, genuine hurt shining in his eyes, “You didn’t tell me you had a husband.”

  “We... I...” Claire stammered, “We didn’t really get a chance to talk much, is all. I’m sorry, Sam.”

  Sam looked between Claire and Parker, overwhelmed by this new information. Giving Parker a one-over, Sam cocked an eyebrow and said, “This guy is old enough to be your dad, Claire.”

  “Watch it, sport,” Parker growled, eyeing the rifle cautiously. Claire could see that every muscle in his body was aching to beat the shit out of this young buck who had violated his new bride. She prayed that he’d be able to control himself long enough not to get shot in the face. How in the world had he even found them, so far out in the woods?

  “Parker,” Claire said cautiously, “Why are you here? How did you find me?”

  “I didn’t ‘find’ you, darling,” Parker spat, “I’ve been following you this whole time. What, did you think I was going to let your stumble off into the woods to get devoured by a bear? A fine honeymoon that would make.”

  “Honeymoon?” Sam cried incredulously, “This just keeps getting better and better!”

  “I would have told you,” Claire said to Sam, “I was going to tell you.”

  “What,” Sam said, “After this crazy asshole had come and tried to break into my house?”

  “I’m the crazy asshole?” Parker laughed, “You’re the one standing there buck naked with a rifle pointed at my head!”

  Sam, suddenly remembering that he had charged the door without first putting any clothes on, blushed deeply and retreated back into the house. He charged past Claire, shoving her toward her husband, ostensibly so that they could “chat”. The bedroom door slammed behind Claire, and she found herself alone in the modest living room of Sam’s cabin, face to face with Parker after their atomic fight. She couldn’t believe how different he seemed in her eyes from just the day before.

  “Well?” Parker said, “What do you have to say for yourself?”

  “What do you mean?” Claire asked, refusing to give him what he wanted.

  “I think that an apology is probably in order, just to start,” Parker said, condescendingly. “You did just run off on me in the middle of our honeymoon.”

  “After you treated my insecurities like fodder for some pre-teen blog post!” Claire said heatedly.

  “Is that what this is all about?” Parker asked, “Me hurting your fucking feelings? You get your panties in a bunch over god knows what and it’s my fault? You run off into the woods and fuck the first guy you meet, and I’m to blame because I made you feel like the selfish child you are for one goddamn minute?”

  “Jesus...” Claire breathed, tears prickling her eyes, “Who are you? Where’s the man that I fell in love with? Where’s the man who found me on a subway train and won my heart?”

  “Fuck if I know,” Parker sneered, “Maybe he was a figment of your imagination. Maybe I was as caught up in the fantasy of us living happily ever after as you were. Here’s the thing, Claire. There is no such thing as happily ever after. Not for you, not for me, not for your lumberjack fuck buddy in there. People are designed to be restless, and hungry, and on the prowl. Why do you think I left Cheryl for you? It’s because I was bored of her. Once, I loved her more than the world itself. That kind of adoration fades, little girl. That kind of adoration belongs in cartoons and romance novels, not in the real world. You couldn’t possibly think that you were anything more to me than something interesting to fuck for a decade or so?”

  “You’re just saying this to be cruel,” Claire whispered, “You don’t mean this!”

  “I mean every word,” Parker insisted, “And I want you to hear me! Let me walk you through the rest of what our marriage would have looked like, darling. We would have had a great time together for the first couple of years. Fucking all the time, trading sugary vows of love and passion, playing at being married. It’s always great for the first couple of years. But then, we would have started to get on each others’ nerves. Little things—like leaving the cap off the toothpaste, or slurping soup, or... who knows. The point is that the kind of thing we have, the kind of relationship that’s purely sexual, that kind of romance fades and fast.”

  “So that’s all this was to you?” Claire pressed, “You were only ever interested in me for sex?”

  “No... No I wouldn’t say that,” Parker admitted, “I mean, don’t get me wrong, you were a great partner for me sexually. So young. So willing to be molded and commanded... Not strong enough in your own convictions yet to really take a stand against me. I fucking eat that shit up.”

  “You sure do,” Claire cringed.

  “You were a great fuck,” Parker went on, “But that’s not enough to make a marriage work. Two people who are in love, really in love... They evolve together. Grow together. That was never going to happen to us. I mean Jesus... You’re a child!”

  “This is exactly why I ran away,” Claire cried, “I knew that you must have felt this way under all your undying love bullshit. I knew that this was at the core of what you believed, and what you wanted. God... I fooled myself for so long! Had myself believing all your lies, everything you told me about how special I was, and how special our love was. You were bullshitting me from the beginning, weren’t you, Parker?”

  “Guilty as charged,” he winked at her, took a step forward. Claire felt repulsed by his advanced, suddenly found him disgusting. It wasn’t as though his physical self had changed overnight. He was still as handsome as ever, still as chiseled and sharp. But everything that lurked underneath that exterior of calm, composed grace was filthy, wretched, and foul.

  Standing in this modest cabin, in the middle of the woods, at a far remove from anythi
ng she had ever known, Claire could finally see Parker for what he was. A creep. A creep who had singled her out when she was young and vulnerable, lured her into a false sense of security, took advantage of her sexually, and had no plans on keeping her around for the long run. If Parker had his way, he’d hang onto Claire while she was still young and sexy, maybe another ten years or so, and then decide that he was interested in someone younger. Prettier. Someone who was as naive as she had been, once.

  With sudden clarity, Claire realized that this is what must have happened to Cheryl, Parker’s ex wife. Cheryl must have been as warm and lovely as could be, once upon a time. She and Parker must have hit it off when they were younger, had a child, built a life. But Parker wasn’t the sort of man who could stay satisfied. He always needed a new toy, a better model. Claire found that she was less shocked by this revelation than by how long it had taken her to come to her senses. Surely, if she had been thinking clearly, if she had been at a more stable point in her life, this bullshit never would have fooled her. But Parker had found her at a time of uncertainty, at a time where her future and her life weren’t secure. She’d taken advantage of her, and then some. He’d used her, and she could never forgive him for that.

  “What's the matter, Claire?” Parker said, grinning meanly, “You finally putting all the pieces together?”

  “Why did you even bother?” Claire said hollowly, “Why did you even bother putting on the act of being in love with me if you were always just going to ditch me after a couple of years?”

  Parker shrugged, “Something to do, I guess! A man’s got to have hobbies.”

  “I don’t understand you, Parker,” Claire said, “With all of your money, all of your business and success and whatever else, you’re still the most unhappy man I’ve ever met. I thought that I could change you, change your entire life. I was so wrong, so far off base! You can’t change for anyone. You’re completely stuck in your ways, and in your view of yourself as this master of the universe, aren’t you?”

  “It’s not really a view,” Parker chuckled, “I am a master of the universe, little darling.”

  “You’re an idiot, is what you are,” Claire said, “You think that because you’re rich, because you’re some kind of trendsetter, that you have power over the rest of us? Well, let me let you in on a little secret, Parker—you have no power. You never have, and you never will.”

  “I’m afraid that Forbes would tend to disagree with you, Claire,” Parker laughed, “I am a rich white man. A job creator, or what have you. I can have anything I want, any time I want. That’s the epitome of power. That’s what empires are built on. I have everything I could ever want, without exception. I win. Game over. Sorry, dear.”

  “You don’t have everything, Parker,” Claire whispered fiercely, “I wanted to give you my entire self. You had me hook, line, and sinker, absolutely in love with you. If you could have let me, I would have loved you more deeply than you could ever have imagined. But that’s the thing, Parker. You couldn’t let me love you. You could fuck me from here to Shanghai, but you could never let me be intimate with you—really intimate. You’re incapable of actual intercourse, an actual connection. You’re a eunuch, Parker. A compassionate castrati. You’re not a man at all, you’re nothing but a sexless monster.”

  “That’s ridiculous,” Parker spat, “I’ve been so far inside of you, I’m surprised your nose didn’t start to bleed. I’ve fucked you in every position, on every surface, that man has dreamed up and created. You’ve cried out my name time and again, begging me to give it you, cum inside of you. You’re telling me that you’re just a really fantastic actress, Claire?”

  “No,” Claire said simply, “I can just tell a bad actor when I see one. See, the thing is... I don’t feel anything right now. I don’t feel betrayed, or lost, or in mourning over us because I can see now that there was never any us to begin with. All those times we fucked, you were just playacting. You never really loved me, I can see that now. And I’m not just blaming you. Because I never loved you either. Never. Not once. I thought you had a nice cock, don’t get me wrong, but we were both just playing make believe.”

  Parker stared at her, at a loss for words. Claire met his gaze with a clear head and firm heart. Everything was becoming clear to her. She could see Parker for what he was—a rich, bloated, uncaring aristocrat. A womanizer, a fake, and phony. Sure, he had money to burn, but he had no heart when it came down to it. She could have been any girl on the subway, and it would have been all the same to him. Sure, he was a fan of her figure, but he couldn’t read her soul. Not the way that a man she really loved could.

  “You’re a place holder,” she said, “That’s it, exactly. You came into my life, shook things up a bit, and I think I’ll always be grateful for that. Grateful to you. You taught me how to accept things that are bigger than myself, but it was like riding a bike with training wheels. I’m ready to really soar, now. And it won’t be with you, Parker. You’re nothing but another phase that I had to outgrow. We’re done, you and me. I’m surprised that we made it this far before realizing it was a joke.”

  “Now wait just a minute,” Parker said, “You don’t get to decide when this is over. I’m in charge! You belong to me, little miss thing. I plucked you up out of obscurity, I gave you a home, and the best sex of your life, a beautiful wedding, and everything that you could have ever wanted. You don’t get to have the final say about us. I mean honestly... What are you thinking? You’re nothing without me! Have you taken a look at the outside world, lately? The economy? You’re unemployable, passably intelligent, and hopeless without someone to take care of you. You’ll never make it on your own.”

  “No, you’re right,” Claire said, “I won’t make it on my own, because I am someone who needs to be loved. I need someone to love who loves me back, who doesn’t need to use me or depend on me. I don’t want to be submissive anyone, and I don’t want to be dominant, I just want to be myself. I just want to be whoever I am today, and have someone beside me to appreciate that. I thought that someone would be you, Parker. I really did. But it’s never going to happen. I need a partner, not an erection who sometimes buys me pretty things. Thank you for making that abundantly clear to me.”

  “You’re bluffing,” Parker said, “You just want me to treat you more nicely.”

  “No,” Claire said, “I just want you to go. Get in your ridiculous RV and hit the road.”

  “It’s not an RV. It’s a luxury vehicle,” Parker snarled, “And I’m not just going to leave you here in the middle of the woods. With all the money I’ve spent on you, you owe me at least a decade of great sex.”

  “I don’t owe you anything,” Claire said, “Because you’re nothing, Parker. You’re nothing.”

  Parker’s jaw fell as he took stock of the woman standing before him. Where had the timid, submissive, young schoolgirl gone? The one that he had wooed with illusions of grandeur and intrigue? Claire held her ground against the man who had once made her his sexual plaything, made her feel as though she could not possibly go on without him, that she wasn’t capable of doing so.

  She felt that the veil had been ripped from her eyes, that she could finally see the truth. And the truth was that Parker did not, in fact, love her as she deserved to be loved. He had enjoyed her body, perhaps even her company. He had enjoyed his privileged position in their relationship as the older and wiser man. He’d especially enjoyed being able to trade in one wife for another, swapping out women as if they were dress shirts. Yes, Parker had loved all of these things during his time with Claire, but he had never actually loved Claire herself. And she knew that this could not stand, that she deserved to be loved for no other reason than that she was herself.

  “So, what,” Parker said quietly, “You’re just going to stay out here in the woods? Shrivel up and die under some tree as you try and make your way back to the city?”

  “I’m not going back to the city, that’s for sure,” Claire said, crossing her arms, “Th
ere’s nothing for me there but more assholes like you who think that I’m just ripe for the picking.”

  “Jesus, you’re so naive,” Parker said, “You think there’s a man in this world who doesn’t think that way? You’re dreaming.”

  As Claire opened her mouth to speak, the bedroom door opened behind her. Sam appeared in the doorway, dressed this time, and looked at Parker with cold, clear eyes.

  “I have to beg to differ,” Sam said, “Not all men are like you. Not all men look at a woman and see nothing but what she can do to them in bed.”

  “I see,” Parker sneered, “So, you’re the kind of man that Claire really needs, is that it? For god’s sake, you’re still a boy.”

  In a flash, Sam was across the room, and holding Parker by the collar of his expensive jacket. Claire felt her stomach turn over, realizing that this could escalate very quickly. Should I step in? She asked herself, seeing the look of abject horror in Parker’s eyes. Could he even defend himself in a fight against someone who is fully able to take him on? How would he feel about being dominated when it wasn’t just a sexy charade? Claire decided to find out. She backed up into the bedroom doorway and waited for the tense scene to resolve itself.

  Parker looked at the scrappy young man who was on the verge of beating the living shit out of him. In a moment, Claire could see that Parker knew just as well as Sam that he was beat before they’d even begun. Parker looked to Claire, his eyes asking her one last time whether she was serious in this. She looked back at him calmly, coolly, and he had his answer. With his jaw set, Parker scrambled out of Sam’s grip. Sam, realizing that this joke of a man was no real threat under pressure, released him unharmed. Parker looked between Claire and Sam, a dejected old dog.