Tempt the Boss_A Forbidden Bad Boy Romance

by Katie Ford

  And I felt completely at ease despite the tears on my cheeks, despite the rough way in which this lovemaking had begun. Dominic and I had done what was natural to survivors, engaging in the act of love to remind ourselves that we were human and filled with vibrant, essential life.

  I stroked his back as his breathing calmed, his chest pressing insistently against my breasts. But I smiled sadly to myself. Although Dominic didn’t know it, we’d already created a small life, and our passion only served to remind me that he could never know.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Dominic

  I could hardly believe what I’d done. Furious that she’d put herself in such jeopardy, I’d stormed into Becca’s room and raped her. And she’d cried out in pleasure and lust, her body responding to the call of mine naturally, so sweetly responsive, despite my intent to punish and discipline.

  But I knew I’d needed to do it for myself just as much as anything. I was overwhelmed with emotion, and I told myself it was because of my experience singlehandedly beating back the long hand of death, saving Becca from a watery grave. Yeah, I told myself grimly. I was just doing my civic duty because an accidental drowning on my property would be hard to explain to the authorities. Ha.

  Somehow, these wretched emotions had clouded my judgment, and I resolved to harden myself against the bitch, making sure she would never underestimate a Phillips brother again. I pulled myself out of her roughly, rolling off coldly, abruptly, despite all that had happened.

  “Make yourself presentable,” I growled, blindly throwing some clothes at her. I quickly averted my eyes, but not before I got a glimpse of that beautiful body, her breasts lush and full, her cunny wet and engorged despite my harsh loving. Shamefully, I could feel myself hardening again and was tempted to get back in bed, losing myself in the warmth of this woman. But reality came crashing down, and I knew that it was more important than ever to keep her prisoner. A girl who could cause me to rape would be able to get anything she wanted from Caleb.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Becca

  I really am a prisoner now. Before, I’d had a semblance of independence, essentially unsupervised because Dominic had been so sure that there was no way off the island. But after my ill-fated escape, I’m basically either with him or locked in my room one hundred percent of the time.

  The first night had been a shock. Dominic had forced me initially, but the sex had become magical, a reassurance that we were human beings, vibrant and alive. After dismissing me, I’d lain motionless on the bed, limp and unmoving, shocked by his abrupt departure. But what did I expect? It wasn’t like he loved me and was going to wipe my tears, stroke my back, and murmur words of comfort. I picked myself up, washing my face and tried to ignore the sight of my puffy, tear-filled eyes. Eventually, an overwhelming hunger gnawed in my stomach and I found myself creeping quietly downstairs for dinner.

  Nana looked at me with a pitying expression as she brought out the food, but wouldn’t say anything.

  “Mister Dominic, he da boss,” she said apologetically, in her lilting Caribbean accent.

  “I understand, Nana,” I said softly. “Don’t worry, I love you just the same.”

  Her eyes filled with tears as she backed towards the kitchen, but I understood. Dominic had instructed her not to talk to me anymore, though I’d sorely miss our times companionably cutting vegetables, as well as her tales of growing up as a child in the Caribbean.

  But there were worse things in life. I heard the shower in Dominic’s room turn on and off, and figured he’d come down to dinner sooner or later. I waited at the table, not sure what to say, but the shadows grew long and Dominic never showed. When it was finally pitch black outside, I realized that Nana had probably brought his food to his room, and he had no intention of seeing me.

  Maybe it was better, I sighed. There were just too many emotions between us, too much going on, too many dramatic moments. I schlumped up the stairs and got ready for bed, my mental and physical exhaustion overwhelming, my body limp as my head hit the pillow.

  Imagine my surprise when my door burst open again, a hulking form silhouetted which could only belong to one man. Before I could say anything, he strode in and got into bed with me, pulling the coverlet over us securely.

  “What … what are you doing?” I stammered. I thought I was the enemy, the prisoner, the person he hated most in the world.

  “I can’t let you escape again, and Nana and Oscar are too old to keep a look-out,” he said grimly. “The best way to ensure that you don’t sneak away during the night is to sleep in the same bed.”

  Reinforcing his intent to keep me prisoner was the muscular arm tucked securely around my waist as he pulled me to his bulk, wrapping that big frame around me. There was no way I was going anywhere now. His legs were tangled with mine and I could feel his hot breath against my neck as he turned us into a veritable human pretzel. I cleared my voice to protest, but he cut me off.

  “Sleep Becca,” he ordered. “Close your eyes.”

  And I was so tired that I did, too exhausted to protest. Tomorrow would be another day, and I could argue our sleeping arrangements then. But for right now, it felt so right, so heavenly, to be wrapped safely in Dominic’s arms.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Dominic

  I felt her drop off almost immediately, her lush, curvy form growing limp into the unconsciousness of exhaustion and much-needed sleep. I pulled her close again, not an inch separating us under the covers. Burying my nose in her hair, I inhaled the sweet fragrance that was all Becca, and found myself growing tired as well. Tomorrow was another day, and I’d figure out what to do with my prisoner then.

  Read A Baby for the Billionaire 3 next

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Becca

  I’ve been turned into an actual prisoner. Before my ill-fated escape, I’d been allowed to wander the property freely as Dominic believed there was no actual way to get off the island. But now, my captor keeps tabs on me all the time. He sleeps in my bed each night, wrapping his warm bulk around me, surrounding me with his masculine presence, and then spends most of each day with me as well.

  We begin each morning with sex, sometimes sweet and sensual, sometimes hard, hot and uncompromising. I know it sounds crazy because I’m a prisoner here, and believe me, the first time we had sex after my escape, I was shocked too.

  Shivering and cold, still recovering from my near-death experience, Dominic had stormed into my room, tearing the coverlet off the bed and basically raping me. He’d been driven by pure fury, his fingers and cock penetrating me mercilessly, but I’d melted under his touch, unable to prevent my body’s traitorous response.

  I’d fallen asleep immediately after that first time, too exhausted to protest and woken at the first grey light of dawn, a hardness pressed against my ass, an unmistakable big hand circling my belly. Without saying a word, he’d run his hands through my sweet folds, prepping me for entry before pushing his cockhead against me, my cleft eagerly parting for his penetration.

  And god, he felt so good, my ruthless tormentor. He was unbelievably hard, his girth almost too wide, too long, but my body stretched and welcomed him, welcomed that driving force, finding my sweet release as he overtook me. The penetration was absolute and I could feel myself diving into the seas of lust, a riptide rising from my cunny to make me scream with each thrust of his penis.

  And it’s become part of our daily routine. He spends every night in my bed to ensure I can’t escape again, and then wakes me each morning with soft caresses, taking me with his body even if he says nothing. Invariably, he comes hard, growling as his body shoots liters of sperm into my womb, spraying my ovaries with virile, milky semen. And then he rolls off, headed to the shower as I lay gasping in bed, recovering after another mind-blowing, earth-shattering orgasm.

  We meet for breakfast in the dining nook, and Dominic reads the paper as we drink our coffee. I wouldn’t say it’s companionable, but we’ve settled into a silenc
e which while thick with meaning, at least isn’t oppressive.

  And then the work day begins. Dominic’s an international best-selling author and I’m his assistant, secretary and editor. His work is magnificent. This is his twentieth book in a blockbuster series, and it’s going to take the world by storm. We often engage in some light verbal sparring, but it’s never antagonistic. Instead, I derive a secret pride in knowing that an esteemed author wants my opinion and respects what I have to say.

  After working until six or so, we break, and it’s my only time away from him. We wash up to get ready for dinner, and I often find myself in the kitchen, helping Nana prepare food. At first, the Afro-Caribbean housekeeper was afraid to talk to me, having been warned off by her employer, but after a couple weeks, she’d warmed up again, sure that Mr. Dominic wasn’t going to fire her for socializing with me a bit. It’s one of the highlights of my day. I love Nana and her husband Oscar, and am grateful for their kindness and wisdom.

  “Mister Dominic, he a good Master,” said Nana in her lilting Caribbean accent. “I known him twenty years now!” she exclaimed.

  I was curious. Twenty years was a long time to observe a person, and the good word of a trusted servant was a valuable recommendation.

  “Tell me, Nana,” I said softly. “What was Dominic like when he was young?”

  “He da hardest worker round!” she laughed. “When he done arrive at da island, me husband and me take one look at him and say, twenty pounds needed. He work so hard, he barely eat, barely sleep, barely do no nuthin but write. But it done! We feed him, we take care of him like our own son,” she confided.

  I imagined it must have been peaceful at Koh-i-Noor when Dominic wasn’t touring the world on a book promotion. He lived in comfortable solitude here for a few months of every year to get away from the glitz and glamour of the international circuit, and plus it was just a beautiful place, the island’s quiet, peaceful surroundings perfect for writing uninterrupted.

  But now I was here, disturbing everything.

  “I’m so sorry to make you do more work, Nana,” I said. “I know you’ve been terribly busy since we arrived.”

  “No, it ain’t no trouble Missy!” she smiled. “We love Dominic to have a good woman, he never brought anyone here before and we see how much you care for each other,” she said. “Even if you on da outs, Dominic care for you, mind my words.”

  I sighed. If only Nana knew the twisted circumstances of my capture. Of course he cared for me, the same way a jailer cares about the prisoners under his watch. But I didn’t correct her and just kept rolling the dough.

  “I care about him too,” I said quietly to the pie I was making.

  But Nana’s sharp ears had caught the words. “And Mister Dominic, he love you tho he don’t show it,” she assured me. Tears welled in my eyes because I knew love was the furthest thing from his mind.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  Becca

  Dominic and I often ate in silence in the dining room before retiring for the night. I’d like to say that once the bedroom door closed, we had fun enjoying a good novel or sipping fine wine, but most of the time, we just tore up the sheets.

  It seemed like Dominic couldn’t get enough of me. As soon as the lock clicked each night, he was on me in a flash, murmuring my name into my neck as his hands stroked my curves. And I always responded, just as hungry for him as he for me. We coupled furiously, again and again, each night unsatiable before falling into a deep, dreamless sleep, his body wrapped securely around mine, and waking in the early morning dawn for more.

  It was odd because he never used any protection and never asked me about it either. Of course, I didn’t say anything. I was too shy to ask Nana to get me contraceptives, and besides it was unnecessary because I was already pregnant with Dominic’s child.

  Yes, it’s true. I’m actually a few months along already, the baby the result of our glorious first night together in New York. But as a curvy girl, I haven’t begun to show yet, and if I glowed a little more than usual, it could be attributed to the good food and constant sex with the big man.

  One morning, I woke to find Dominic stroking my cheek, watching me as I slept. In that brief moment, I could almost swear that I saw caring and tenderness in his eyes, but the minute he realized I’d woken, shutters came down and his face resumed an impassive, expressionless façade even as his hands reached to weigh my breasts and run wetly through my cunny.

  But there had been something there, and I was floating on air as I got ready for breakfast. I took especial care with my hair and wore a pretty sundress, eager to see the big man at breakfast. Maybe I’d say something today, maybe even tell him about the pregnancy, my deepest, darkest secret.

  But as we sat in the breakfast nook, a steady thwap-thwap-thwap began to sound, first dimly and then louder. I was startled, although Dominic barely looked up from his paper. When the roar could no longer be ignored, he turned to me and said, “We have a guest,” with no further explanation.

  To my amazement, a huge black helicopter landed in the field outside the kitchen window. As the rotors slowed, the helicopter door opened and who stepped out but my gorgeous twin sister, Trina, the cause of my current situation.

  She looked ravishing in tight white jeans and a floral top which caressed her breasts snugly, revealing their luscious, shapely form.

  “Hello Dominic!” she cried, stepping out precariously in ridiculously high heels.

  Dominic seemed not to notice and strode across the lawn, bending to give her an affectionate kiss on the cheek. But Trina turned her head swiftly and it became a kiss on the mouth, the two locked into a passionate embrace.

  I almost died, my insides crumpling with shame and self-doubt. I’d been about to reveal my pregnancy to Dominic, hoping against hope that we could figure out some type of amicable arrangement, maybe even creating a joint household for the baby. But now that Trina was here, I saw that I’d been dreadfully wrong. Dominic had been toying with me, scheming over the best way to break my heart, and that meant discarding me once my beautiful sister was available.

  They swept across the lawn, a well-matched, glamorous couple, their heads bent together laughing and talking privately. I felt positively dumpy, a misshapen lump left in the cold.

  “Oh hey Becca,” said Trina carelessly. “Dominic told me you’d be here, you’re his secretary right?” she asked. “Assisting him with his books and all? Thanks for doing such a great job, I know you’ve been a big help.”

  I said nothing, mutely silent as she gave me a peck and ordered Oscar to bring her numerous bags inside.

  “Put then in Dominic’s bedroom,” she commanded as she surveyed the house.

  “Oh my lord, this is gorgeous!” she said, her gaze greedily possessive. Of course the house was beautiful, but her attitude made me feel like the serving staff, here to greet the new Mistress.

  “Trina,” I said. “What are you doing here? Where’s Caleb?” I asked.

  “Oh you know,” she tossed off carelessly. “Caleb and I were never that serious, we broke it off, no biggie. But when Dominic called explaining that he was Caleb’s older brother and inviting me to the island, I jumped at the opportunity. I mean, I knew Caleb had an older brother, but I had no idea it was Dominic Patterson, billionaire best-selling author,” she said in a hushed voice.

  Good thing the big man was still outside talking with the helicopter pilot because Trina’s unmasked greed would have made him shake his head with disgust. But my sister was a master of deception, and I knew that in front of male company, she could appear as innocent and pure as driven snow.

  “Anyways,” she continued. “Dominic told me that you were already here, that he’d temporarily hired you as a guest editor,” she continued. “Thanks for helping him with his work,” she confided. “If you could take on more responsibilities while I’m here, I’d appreciate it,” she said. “I think he’s invited me here because he wants some female companionship, and I want to make sure
he enjoys everything I have to offer,” she said with a sly smile.

  I gaped wordlessly at the implication. So Dominic had brought Trina here as a companion cum girlfriend, and his time with me was done, over, kaput. He’d just been using me as filler until a new, more glamorous, model was available, and now that she’d arrived, I was nothing more than extraneous matter.

  “Of course, Trina,” I said quietly. “I’m more than happy to re-dedicate myself as an editor. You’ll hardly see me,” I said.

  “Thanks sis! Dominic and I will be busy most days, so just go on without him, you know?” she said, tossing that beautiful red mane. “You can handle it on your own.”

  “Yes, I will,” I said quietly. But my mind whirred. Now, more than ever, I needed to get off the island by any means necessary.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Becca

  The next week was pure hell. I barely saw Dominic and Trina, but I could hear their laughter, her high tinkling notes and his deep rumble through the walls of the plantation. I’d buried myself in work, alone in the library for most of the day while Dominic and Trina cavorted about, enjoying themselves.