MyAlphaBillionaire New Adult Erotic RomanceARe

by Tawny Taylor

  Chapter 6

  I was fuming. Absolutely livid. How dare this man come barging into my home late at night and demand to be told who I was spending time with.

  Making sure he saw I was furious, I glared at him. “That’s none of your business.”

  “Of course it’s my business.”

  I narrowed my eyes even more. “Since when?”

  “Since when? What the hell is wrong with you? What’s going on?”

  “Why don’t you tell me?”

  “What are you talking about? I’ve had no women at my place late at night. What are you suggesting?”

  I took a moment to breathe. When I felt like I wasn’t going to pass out, I said, “My friend took me out to dinner because I lost my job--“

  His eyes bulged. “You what?”

  “We saw you. With the bitch from the charity thing. Alexis.”

  “You lost your job?” he repeated.

  “That’s not the point. I. Saw. You.” I poked his chest. “With. Her.”

  “There’s an explanation for that.” He crossed his arms over himself and angled his head. “We weren’t on a date.”

  “Of course there’s an explanation. There’s always an explanation.”

  “No, really. There is an explanation. She’s the chairperson of another charity. We’re working on a fundraising event--“

  “Right.” I waved my hand and shoved past him.

  “Really.” He grabbed my wrist and forced me around.

  I glared. Hard. Jerked my wrist out of his grip. “Don’t touch me.”

  “I’m telling the truth, Bristol. Alexis is organizing a fundraiser--“

  “That wasn’t what was really going on. She wants you. Don’t you see that? She’ll do or say anything to spend time with you.” I smacked my forehead with the palm of my hand. “Really? Are all men so gullible?”

  “I’m not gullible,” he spat. “And you’re changing the subject.”

  “No.” I shook a finger at him. “You’re the one changing the subject. I’m talking about you seeing other women.”

  “I’m not ‘seeing’ anyone.”

  “Anyone. Not me, either. You got that right.” Feeling tears burning my eyes, I stomped away.

  Of course, being the overbearing bastard that he was, he grabbed my arm to keep me from getting too far. While I fought him, he pulled me into an embrace.

  I tried not to snuggle up to him. I really did. But it felt so good to be held. And even better to be reassured.

  “I swear, I didn’t touch Alexis. Not a hair on her head. Nothing. We were discussing the fundraiser, nothing more. I understand she wants more, but there won’t ever be anything intimate between us. Never. Not even if you were to tell me to get lost tomorrow.”

  I didn’t want to believe his words.

  Yes, yes I did.

  No, I didn’t.

  Shit.

  I closed my eyes and listened to the deep thump-wump of his heartbeat. The steady beat soothed me.

  “I’ll give you a job. Come work for me,” he said.

  Dammit. Now what? If I worked for him, I’d have to be around him all the time. That could go either way, depending upon how things were between us. Already, our…relationship…was rocky. Would the added stress of working together make things worse? “That’s a bad idea.”

  “I’d never hold your job over your head, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  “You wouldn’t have to.”

  “Dammit.” He angled back slightly, lifted my chin. “I want to help you. Let me.”

  I turned my head. If I looked at him, I would soften. I knew it. “I don’t know.”

  “You need help.”

  He was right about that. I did. I’d tried finding something on my own. Tried and failed.

  But taking a job working for a man I was dating was a bad idea. Really bad.

  Maybe I could take something temporarily? Until I could find something else?

  That might work.

  Or not.

  “I don’t know anything about what you do,” I said. “What kind of job could you give me?”

  “I’ll find something. We’re always looking for intelligent people with a good head on their shoulders.” He massaged my shoulders. I could feel the tension draining from my body, and with it, my willpower. “I’ll let you know what openings we have, and then you can decide whether you’d like to apply.”

  “But--“

  “You won’t necessarily have to work directly under me.” He grasped my chin again, forcing me to look him in the eye. “Nobody has to know about our personal…relationship.”

  “But--“

  “And if you decide you’d rather remain…” he visibly swallowed. “…friends at any point in the future, then your job would never be in jeopardy.”

  My belly twisted. “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll call you.” He cupped my cheeks and bent down, kissing me softly, gently, sweetly. “And I’m sorry for busting in here like a raging bull. Very sorry. I guess I got a little jealous.”

  “You surprised me.”

  “I’m such a bastard sometimes.” Stepping back, he shook his head. “Who the hell did I think I was? We’re not married.”

  “Drake’s an old friend--”

  “Don’t.” He pressed a fingertip to my lips. “You don’t owe me an explanation. We never talked about…about you seeing other people. You’re free to see whomever you like.”

  “Sure, but--“

  “It’s probably smart in your case not to get too close to a bastard like me. I’m more trouble than I’m worth.” He looked at me, his eyes shadowed.

  “You’re not trouble.”

  “You don’t know me well enough to say that yet. Give me time, and I’ll prove to you exactly how fucked up I am. Trust me.” He took my hand in his, gave it a squeeze.

  I glanced down at our joined hands then up into his eyes.

  He genuinely believed what he was saying. He really did feel like he was fucked up, trouble, heartache.

  Jill would agree with him.

  Me, I was torn. A part of me believed it too. That part of me was afraid to get too close because I didn’t want to be hurt. That part of me was looking for reasons to cut things off before they got too serious.

  But another part of me wanted to understand this man, to break through the wall enclosing his heart, and find out what he was hiding.

  What would it cost me to shatter his defenses?

  Was I willing to pay the price?

  “Goodnight, Bristol,” he said, tipping his head toward the door. “I’m going to leave now.”

  I watched him grab the doorknob, twist it, pull. “Wait.”

  He turned to look at me. His eyes were full of emotion. Dark emotion. The shadows terrified me. “Bristol. Let me walk out this door now.”

  “But what you said, about yourself--“

  “It’s true.” He sounded so beaten down. “Look at the way I acted tonight. Look at all the confusion and hurt I’ve caused you already.”

  “You acted no worse than I have. I was jealous. I jumped to conclusions.”

  “You didn’t follow me around town.”

  “You followed me?”

  He nodded. “I told you, I’m…” He closed his eyes and sighed. “I don’t just want to touch you. I don’t just want to kiss you. I crave you. With every cell in my body.” As he was speaking, he was coming closer, and every cell in my body was responding to him.

  He stopped within inches of me, looking down at my face, his expression intense. “The second you’re out of my sight, I miss you.” He reached for me, but before his fingertip made contact, he yanked it back and jerked away. “I am going to tear your heart apart, Bristol.”

  I didn’t want to be hurt. I didn’t want to feel the way I did now, either. Confused and sad, longing to be in his arms. If I was thinking clearly, I would have let him leave.

  If.

  He grabbed the door again, and I whimpered
.

  Twisting around, he took another look at me and slammed it shut. Then he charged at me, hauled me off my feet, and slammed his mouth on mine. The kiss was wild. Lips and tongue crushing, possessing, staking a claim. I surrendered to his need willingly, kissing him back as he carried me to my bedroom. I fell onto the bed, and he went with me, catching himself on outstretched arms. He pulled my lower lip into his mouth, nipping it gently. He then groaned and angled upward so he was kneeling over me, spread knees straddling my legs.

  “Bristol, say the word. Say red,” he commanded.

  I shook my head. “No.”

  He grabbed my shirt in his fists. “Please.”

  “No.”

  He ripped the material, and I gasped. A blaze swept through my body.

  “Say the word,” he growled.

  “Green.” I arched my back, pushing my aching breasts up. “Green.”

  He flattened his hands over them, kneading their softness through my bra, and I moaned as a ripple of pleasure pulsed between my legs.

  More. I wanted more. Despite my fear. Despite my confusion.

  He pulled my bra cup down and pinched one nipple between his finger and thumb.

  “Yes,” I whispered as my body tensed. Arms. Legs. Stomach.

  Shane had said he craved me. I had no doubt he was telling the truth. But what he didn’t know was that I craved him too. His kiss. His touch. His possession.

  “Arms up,” he demanded.

  I did what he said, lifting them over my head.

  He reached under me, unhooked my bra and wrapped it around my wrists, binding them.

  The sensation of being tied, trapped beneath him made me writhe with need. A burning ache pounded between my legs, and my tissues clenched, damp heat slicking the insides of my thighs.

  He bent over me, nibbled my earlobe. He audibly inhaled. “I’m not going to let you make me lose control this time.” His hand glided down my stomach. I stared into his eyes and he reached lower, lower, between my thighs. “Say the word, Bristol.”

  “Green.”

  He kicked his leg over, kneeling beside me. “You’re so damn beautiful.” His jaw was tense as he shoved my skirt up. His gaze dropped. His eyes darkened. “Dammit.”

  I parted my legs, bending my knees, spreading myself for him.

  He gritted his teeth, ripped the scrap of material out from between my legs and cupped my ass, lifting it. With tongue and teeth, he tormented my sensitive tissues, my labia, my clit. I thrashed and moaned and cried and begged but he didn’t stop, he wouldn’t take me. Wouldn’t fill me.

  I needed him inside me, needed his thick length stroking away the overwhelming burning.

  His tongue dipped inside, but that small invasion wasn’t enough. It added to the torment instead of easing it. I could barely breathe. I was burning all over. Muscles trembling. Skin on fire.

  I was about to combust when he yanked his pants down and thrust inside.

  “Look at me,” he said, sounding as breathless as I was. He was seated deep inside me now. He was holding completely still, stretching my tissues, the tip of his cock pushing at the entry of my womb.

  I opened my eyes and stared up into his. They were hard, piercing.

  If I could have, I would have touched his face, stroked his jaw.

  “Shane,” I whispered as my insides tightened around him. I rocked my hips taking him as deeply as I could as he withdrew and then shoved inside again. His rhythm was fast and hard. And my body responded. This was what I’d needed. This was what I’d craved.

  “My master,” I murmured as I surrendered to his claiming. “Do what you will.”

  He held me in place with one hand, keeping me from sliding as he pounded into me. With the other, he caressed my clit. ‘Round and ‘round that fingertip went, and inside me a whirling blaze built, bigger, hotter. My senses amplified. Sounds louder, smells so intense I could taste them. The huff of our breaths and the sharp slap of skin meeting skin filled my ears. The scent of his skin and our blended need filled my nose. I was soaring, quaking, pulsing, writhing, on the verge. On the edge.

  “Come, Bristol. Come now.” He pressed hard on my clit and the pressure sent a blade of erotic heat slicing through me. I exploded. My inner muscles spasmed around him, squeezing rhythmically. He halted, growled and then began thrusting harder, faster, driving his length into me until we were both shaking from exhaustion.

  When he withdrew, I felt empty. For just a moment. Until he untied my wrists, lay beside me, and pulled me into his arms.

  “Bristol,” he whispered. “I crave you. Day and night. Every minute. Every hour. Make it stop. I can’t live like this.”

  “Shane,” I whispered, rolling on my side to face him, “I don’t know if I want it to stop.”

  The End.

  What He Needs

  (My Alpha Billionaire, Book 4)

  Chapter 1

  I need her. More than my next breath. More than life itself. I never wanted to need someone.

  How did this happen? How did she break through my defenses?

  A few short weeks. She’s been the center of my life for that long. Only that long. And yet in that short time she has turned my world on its side. Everything is different now.

  Different and better.

  Different and worse.

  I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t work. I can’t do anything without thinking about her, wondering what she’s doing, aching to touch her, to hear her sweet voice. In just a few weeks she has become the center of my universe.

  When I lose her--and I know I will because there isn’t a single person or thing I’ve loved that I haven’t lost--I will be destroyed.

  * * * * *

  “Miss Deatrich?”

  That was me. Bristol Deatrich.

  Unemployed Bristol Deatrich.

  Hopefully soon-to-be newly-re-employed Bristol Deatrich.

  Thinking positively, I stood and smiled.

  The woman standing at the door gave me a once over. Her stern expression didn’t change. My positive attitude wilted a smidge. “This way, please,” the woman indicated the doorway behind her with the tip of her head.

  Leaving my smile in place, I grabbed my tote-slash-briefcase and followed her. Her office was a typical barebones space. White walls, gray industrial carpet. Desk. Chair, File cabinet. Bookshelf. Framed Ansel Adams inspirational posters.

  She sat in her chair behind the desk, and I took the one facing her. I tried not to hyperventilate as she flipped through the contents of the folder lying open on her desktop. “Do you have a copy of your resume?” she asked dully.

  “I do.” I pulled out a fresh copy and set it on the desk. My hand shook a little. I placed it in my lap with the other one so she wouldn’t notice.

  “Thank you.” She plucked up my resume and set it beside the paper she was already reading. After several agonizing moments, she asked, as she finally lifted her gaze, “Could you please summarize your work experience?”

  “Sure.” I took a deep breath, and, with nerves jangling, I rattled off my work history, starting with my most recent job. The one I’d lost suddenly. With absolutely no advance notice.

  As she pretended to listen, she looked completely disinterested in what I was saying. Most of the time her focus was directed down, to the pages on her desktop. She rarely glanced up at me. She didn’t respond to a word I said. And her expression was one of absolute boredom. I wondered why I’d been called for an interview.

  And then I answered my own question.

  She had absolutely no intention of hiring me. She was merely going through the motions to satisfy someone. A certain someone, who had probably pulled a few dozen strings to get me this interview.

  It had to be him. Shane Trant. Professional string puller.

  At the end of my spiel, the unimpressed woman pasted on a smile so fake it made a certain celebrity’s boobs look natural, briskly thanked me for coming in, and motioned toward the door.

  There was
absolutely no way I was going to be receiving a job offer today. The trip had been pointless. A complete waste of time.

  I waited until I was out in my car before I dialed Shane’s phone number. Then, as the phone’s ring tone sounded in my ear, I started my car and steered it toward the road.

  Shane is my boyfriend.

  He is my lover.

  And he is my master.

  We have a complicated relationship, and a unique one. I’ve known him for a long time, since I was a kid. But recently we took things to a very new and much more intimate level. And it seems, because I’ve been sharing a bed with him on and off for a little while, that he’s decided to poke his nose into my personal business.

  I have mixed feelings about that. Extremely mixed.

  “Hello, Bristol,” he answered on the second ring.

  “Hello, Shane. What did you do?” I asked, figuring there was no need to beat around the bush.

  I hit my turn signal and eased into the right lane. The freeway entry was ahead. After that horrific interview, all I wanted to do was go home, change into some pajamas and vegetate on my couch. It was a short drive home. I would be safe and cozy in my place, soothing my wounded pride with massive quantities of fattening food within minutes.

  “What did I do about what?” he responded.

  “The interview didn’t go very well. I got the impression I had been called in for an interview only because someone had forced the issue. I wonder who that someone might be?”

  “Really? It didn’t go well? Why?” He sounded shocked. He sounded a little angry too.

  He didn’t sound apologetic.

  I steered my car around the cloverleaf curve and hit the gas, merging with the traffic barreling down southbound I-275. “The woman who interviewed me barely looked at me. She was too busy reading someone else’s resume to care what I had to say.”

  “Who was that? What was the woman’s name?” His voice was clipped, sharp.

  “Don’t bother. It isn’t worth it. You couldn’t pay me enough to take a job there.” I sucked in a deep breath and let it out in one long, drawn out sigh. “You win. I’ll come and work for you.”