My Billionaire Master: Indebted To Him (Part One) (A BDSM Erotic Romance Novelette)

by Delilah Gardner

  My Billionaire Master: Indebted To Him (Part One) (A BDSM Erotic Romance Novelette)

  Title Page

  Part One

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  My Billionaire Master: Indebted To Him

  Part One

  Delilah Gardner

  Copyright 2013 by Forbidden Fruit Press

  All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part by any means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the explicit written permission of the author.

  Published by Forbidden Fruit Press

  Smashwords Edition

  All characters depicted in this fictional work are consenting adults. Any resemblance to persons living or deceased, particular businesses, events, or exact locations are entirely coincidental.

  ***

  A taste of things to come:

  “Beautiful.”

  Cassidy turned her head away. She’d been told she was pretty. Words like gorgeous, sexy, and stunning had been previously used. But nothing had felt so honest, so humbling as the beautiful that tripped off Alfie’s tongue. He reached beneath her and nimbly undid her bra, dropping it to the side off the bed. Flushed red, her skin glowed while her nipples tightened to taut nubs ready for his touch.

  When he leaned forward, lavishing them with his tongue, Cassidy dragged in a gulp of air as her hips rose under him. The hard shaft of his cock nudged her clit, sending her body into a helpless twist as blissful waves flooded through her. His hips curled over her to prod her clit with his trapped cock, urging the orgasm into a continuous spasm within her. Gasping at the intensity, she felt wetness against her and blushed harder, but couldn’t hold the embarrassment in the face of his lips and fingers at her nipples.

  ***

  Chapter One

  Cassidy stumbled to a stop at the traffic light. One heel clicking against the sidewalk, she hobbled and hopped to fix it without bending over and risking either tearing her miniskirt or exposing herself to the entire viewing public.

  Christ! And on the day I run out of everything but my white lace thong. I really would be exposing everything!

  Leaning against a pole to correct the errant heel, taxicabs and irate drivers whipped past her while the outline of a giant hand blinked in neon red. Waiting impatiently with nerves thrumming through her chest, her stomach was queasy as if she’d eaten something slightly off. She mentally assured herself, it’s just anticipation and nerves…not anything I’ve eaten.

  Late for her first job interview since college, she didn’t consider herself at fault since the lights went off in the middle of the night. This had inadvertently reset the alarm and, in her excitement, she’d forgotten to program her phone. She was just lucky her inner clock (still on pre-graduation time) had awakened her at eight, jolting her up for a morning class she no longer had.

  Unfortunately, there was no way she would make a nine o’clock appointment. Unlike the college campus, she couldn’t just walk to wherever needed and arrive in ten minutes. Bus fair and cab were too expensive, like everything in the city, and forget residing where the jobs were found. She lived on the outskirts with her divorcee dad which meant everything in the city took an extra hour to reach.

  I’m never going to make it. What a way to start post-college life. Plus, I’m cursed for living in the country where the electricity blacks out when the wind blows.

  At twenty-two years old, this was the first interview in which she’d actually received a call-back. A highly expensive Bachelor’s degree apparently didn’t offer much but shackled her with thousands of dollars in student loans. The mountains of debt now loomed so high, she feared they’d bury her alive with every breath. Employers looked for Master’s degrees at the least. Unfortunately, no one understood exactly what a major in dance therapy really meant or how to utilize such at their company. Even though discouraged, Cassidy wasn’t a quitter. When times grew tough, she sought out secretarial positions.

  I can write up reports, take messages, and text. Anyway…how busy could one company get? Just smile and say, “Thank you for calling Bertram Industries…blah, blah, blah…”

  Rolling various scenarios in her mind, she mentally groaned when her thongs threatened to saw her in half when she shifted from one foot to the other. Wriggling while she waited, she tried to discreetly adjust her clothes back into behaving. Her sable business suit, perhaps cut a size smaller than necessary, displayed long legs ending at her five-inch black pumps. Although highly attractive, the tightness left her with little room to breathe.

  Left over from her college days, the suit had embraced her curves but now cut into places which made it hike up with a mind of its own when she walked. Already receiving male attention, she blushed and hoped whoever interviewed her would understand her lack of funds. Staring straight ahead, she practiced answering the phone in her mind.

  As red turned to green, Cassidy bumped into the electric pole, granting her shoulder a bruising blow before she hurried across the street. Having left in a hurry, she hadn’t considered the issue of walking a lengthy distance in the high-heels. She could already feel a blister forming.

  With a groan, she anxiously thought, I’m not getting this position. I can already feel it. Well—in for a penny, in for a pound…

  She finally reached the huge looming offices of Bertram Industries. Unsure exactly what they did—something in art exhibition or museum curator management—she didn’t think it mattered. She pondered over the details of a job brewing coffee, answering e-mails, and directing calls. Taking a deep breath, she shimmied with hopes that her skirt would settle and went for it.

  Confidently striding through the massive double doors, her long brunette curls bounced against the middle of her back. She would have gone for a side-swept hairstyle but thought the curls said, strong, confident, and sassy. Confidence was currently needed, especially for them to ignore her twenty minutes of lateness.

  She moved toward a bored security guard watching TV at the front desk, volume turned down low to nearly inaudible, and said “Hi. I’m Cassidy Fearn. I have an appointment today with a Mr. Jasper?”

  Trying out her biggest and friendliest smile, she stuck out her hand for the man to shake. He gave neither grin nor hand a glance. She shoved her hand quickly down as a small blush bloomed on her cheeks.

  “You’re scheduled for nine o’clock. It’s 9:23.” The guard looked at his computer screen to confirm and then turned back to the black and white TV before droning out, “Mr. Jasper doesn’t generally take late appointments, Miss…Fearn.”

  The black and white relic reminded her of childhood days when her parents were still together. She hadn’t seen a black and white TV since she was a little kid. Everything seemed easier, more secure, and less stressful. Prepared to do whatever necessary, she tried to take a deep breath in her too-tight sable suit without popping a seam.

  Scrambling to keep her interview, she blurted out, “I know I’m a little late. City traffic…right?”

  Resisting the urge to squirm impatiently, she added, “Is there some place I can sign in? I’m sure he’ll see me.”

  The guard grunted and pointed at a sign-in sheet already covered in scribbled signatures. Cassidy added her name to the immense list, mentally groaning as her heart sank. Now that she wasn’t hurrying, she had a chance to look around. Realizing th
ere wasn’t any seating, she nervously asked, “Um, is there somewhere I can wait?”

  “Take the elevator to the eleventh floor. If he’ll see you, it’ll be there.”

  “Great. Thanks so much,” Cassidy mumbled, striving for politeness in the face of his boredom. When he offered no response, she quickly turned to the bank of elevators.

  After growling her suit into place, she groaned aloud when the first step sent it roaming up her thighs again. She exited on the eleventh floor, wandered around a long hall, and found an opened glass double door with a room beyond.

  Needing to pull her roaming skirt back down, she slipped inside and hoped no one was watching. Somewhat resembling a lobby, it was covered in obscure artifacts and decorated in rich tapestries reminiscent of something out of Lawrence of Arabia.

  A portrait, huge solid wood that shimmered with polish, of a young man with imposing crystal blue eyes and a mane of dark hair hung on the wall behind an empty desk. A little plaque underneath read Alfred A. Bertram, CEO Bertram Industries.

  More than just the CEO of Bertram Industries from what she’d heard, Alfie Bertram successfully ran numerous companies. A thirty-two year old billionaire with striking features, he was a bachelor rumored to be reclusive, and a little bit crazy. He couldn’t seem to breathe without the local news reporting something about his behavior. Studying his portrait, she shivered at the oddly compelling handsome portrait while thinking I can see why everyone wants to capture his attention.

  Cassidy shrugged and moved on but a tiny porcelain vase caught her attention. Glimmering a beautiful gold despite the lack of natural light, Cassidy reached out to touch it even though she knew she shouldn’t. She tentatively caressed the smooth side with her index finger, thinking, this one little item probably cost more than my entire college education.

  “Miss Fearn,” a voice announced drolly from behind her. Cassidy jumped and almost twisted her ankle in her 5-inch pumps. Her skirt slid up her thigh another notch but she resisted pulling it down in front of him. Instead, she pivoted around, thankful he’d waited until she was finished with her caress before scaring her. A stern man in a suit appearing hand-stitched onto his body stared back at her. With a face completely blank of expression despite Elvin ears, his mouth was curled up in the corner like he was on the verge of a perpetual grin.

  She smiled and said, “Yes, hi, that’s me. Cassidy Fearn.”

  Without changing his expression, he sternly told her, “You’re over a half-hour late, Miss Fearn.”

  She realized this had to be Mr. Jasper. She had pictured him as a jolly man with passion and enthusiasm but most importantly…patience. Trying to contain a wince, she explained, “I know. I’m so sorry, my lights went off last night and traffic is a bi…um…difficult. I got kind of lost up here.”

  If possible, his blank stare deepened as he informed her, “We take punctuality very seriously here at Bertram Industries.”

  She grimaced and rushed to assure him, “I get that…I really do. I am so sorry. It won’t happen again…sir.”

  “No, it won’t, Miss Fearn. We won’t be requiring your services. Please escort yourself out.” He turned on his heel without so much as a blink while her mouth was still gaping and disappeared around the corner from whence he came.

  Oh…no! This cannot be happening!

  Cassidy wasn’t sure if she was more stunned at her reality check or angered at the unfairness of life. Disappointment over losing the first job interview she’d gotten in six months from having overslept hadn’t completely registered yet.

  Taking a deep breath, she worked on rallying herself and holding back threatening tears. Numbly pushing the hem of her skirt back down, she nodded while thinking it’s okay. Just have to make sure you set your phone next time.

  She should have brought sneakers, at least then she wouldn’t have to wobble all the way back to the bus stop. Flexing her foot, she shoved it back into her heel and pulled at the hem of her skirt again. Deep in thought and cursing her luck, she didn’t see anyone enter the room.

  A deep baritone asked from somewhere over her shoulder, “Are you all right?”

  Cassidy jumped and let out a yelp. Tripping on her own shoes, she flailed and stumbled backward into a row of sculptures, tiny figurines, and the little vase she’d admired so much earlier. Everything bounced harmlessly to the floor. Everything except the vase of course, which cracked into a thousand, shimmering, tiny shards of glass.

  Stunned, Cassidy dumbly thought, Huh. It wasn’t porcelain after all. Imagine that.

  She moaned in horror, “Oh, shit!”

  The man, which she instantaneously realized was Alfie Bertram, winced. Thinking it couldn’t get any worse, Cassidy mindlessly pleaded, “Tell me that wasn’t as expensive as it looked.” He winced harder, perfect dark brows drawing together and his gorgeous full lips curling down into a moue of displeasure.

  She frantically asked, “It was a duplicate right? A fake? A fun little thing you picked up at the fair and haven’t bothered to throw out?” Her hand fluttered out to him before she jerked it back, “You know the ones that look expensive but are just for show…?”

  Alfie? Alfred? Mr. Bertram?

  She wasn’t sure what to call him. He silently shook his great mane of wavy black locks in a look that definitely said No, little girl, that vase really did cost more than your life is worth.

  Fuck.

  “I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry…um…I’ll work it off! Whatever you need me to do.”

  Scrambling to her feet sent her skirt hiking in every direction. She carefully backed away. Rolling her hips to control the skirt and attempting to avoid knocking anything else down, she tried to think fast, “I can…”

  Her thongs rode horribly up, causing her to twist and shift in an attempt to discreetly dislodge them. Alfie’s eyes followed her movements as his head tilted. She restlessly shimmied again, hips rolling which caused inches of thigh to expose as her short skirt twisted up her legs and hung on her shapely thighs.

  Realizing her movements had caught his attention—edging on raw sexual interest—her breath hung as a shiver touched her spine. Alfie cleared his throat, “I…um…”

  She studied his handsome face while his Adam’s apple bobbed behind the crisp white collar of his dress shirt. With a dismissing flick of his hand, he assured her, “it’s fine. I can have the vase replaced.”

  His voice was soft without the anger she’d expected but he wouldn’t meet her gaze. Instead, they roamed over her generous cleavage, down her flat stomach, dipping for a moment’s caress along the full mound of her hips as she turned to retrieve one of the items that had fallen and gingerly place it back on its stand.

  Feeling the weight of his eyes gliding over her like a physical touch sent goose bumps sprinkling over her flesh while she tried to contain the shiver. When she spoke, the shiver seem to transfer to her words, “No, this is too much. I can’t believe I did this. I’m usually…”

  Trailing off, Cassidy watched him gently pick the remaining items up and replace them in a vague approximation to where they’d been. Aware of his citrusy cologne, her senses suddenly picked up everything about him. Broad shouldered, she suddenly understood why the press always wanted to capture his picture. Seeming to redefine animal magnetism, her eyes widened when his attention swung back to rake up her long legs and hang on her ass.

  Her breath hung in her throat. Suddenly thankful for wearing thongs, she blushed as the ache intensified and yearning dampened her thong. She pressed her thighs together but her throaty tone brought intense alertness to his features. “Please…I want to repay you.”

  His bright blue eyes finally rose to meet her dark brown as slight dimples appeared, “I could find a way.”

  Just like that, his calculating gaze caught her. With her heart slamming in her chest, she stuttered, “I—I mean like a job, or a payment plan…or something.”

  As he ushered her into his office, she suddenly realized how many years it wou
ld take to pay him back at any interest rate. Alfie cocked an eyebrow, dragging his gaze over her before saying with a low voice, “We might be able to work with the or something part.”