Taken by the Tycoon

by Normandie Alleman

  “I do, but this is not going to work. If you weren’t subconsciously thinking of me as a mother figure, then why didn’t you tell me about your mother?”

  He darkened. “I don’t like talking about it.”

  Seeing the pain in his eyes, Violet softened. She knew from experience that losing one’s mother was a terrible blow.

  They pulled up to her house, and Violet leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. “Thank you, Stuart. For everything. Please don’t call me.”

  With that she got out of the limo and walked up the steps to the dark, empty house.

  Chapter Eight

  The French toast on her plate had grown soggy. Violet had made her favorite breakfast hoping it would cheer her up, but her usual hearty appetite had deserted her.

  She piddled with her fork, swirling the bread around in a copious amount of syrup. She knew what was wrong. She’d forgotten the powdered sugar. Getting up, she opened the cabinet and was retrieving it when Margaret walked into the kitchen.

  “Good morning,” her daughter said with a yawn.

  “Good morning, dear. Would you like some French toast?” Violet asked.

  “Sure.” Margaret plopped down at the table, and Violet handed her a heaping plate.

  Violet set the powdered sugar down next to Margaret and slumped back into her chair.

  They sat quietly for a while before Margaret said, “Aren’t you going to eat yours?”

  Violet looked up, unaware she hadn’t eaten but a couple of bites. She took a bite and smiled at Margaret. Best to put on a good face.

  “Mom, what’s wrong?”

  “Nothing’s wrong, sweetie.”

  “I don’t believe you. You haven’t done anything but mope around here ever since I’ve been back from Dad’s.”

  Violet started to protest, but Margaret continued. “Is it Stuart Swearingen? Has he been a jerk to you?”

  “What? What makes you think this has anything to do with Stuart?” Violet blustered.

  “I heard you went to the ball at the country club with him, that’s all.”

  “How did you hear that?”

  “Mother, you have to know if you go out with Stuart Swearingen, everyone is going to know about it. Darla’s mom told her, and she told me.”

  Violet bit her lip.

  “She said you made a cute couple.” Margaret shrugged and took a bite.

  “She did?” Violet asked.

  Margaret nodded, chewing.

  It surprised Violet to hear something positive about her and Stuart. Was it possible there were people in her circle who wouldn’t judge her too harshly? Wouldn’t that be a dream come true…

  “So what did he do?” Margaret persisted.

  “He didn’t do anything.”

  “I’m confused, so why are you so depressed?”

  “You said it yourself—he’s too young for me.” The corners of Violet’s mouth drooped.

  Margaret’s face clouded. “I’m sorry, Mom. I shouldn’t have said that. I wasn’t thinking. Besides, who cares how old he is? He’s hot. And rich.”

  Violet smiled wistfully. “I know. He’s also kind and considerate and fun as the dickens. We get along famously, but I’m old enough to be his mother.”

  Margaret laughed. “Only if you were ten when you had him. C’mon mom, that’s ridiculous. If you like him—go for it.”

  “How do you know him?” Violet asked.

  “Last summer when I volunteered at the Boys & Girls club, he gave a talk at the beginning of our training about how important it is to give back to your community and all that. I guess his company gives a lot of money to them. Anyway, he stayed and played with the kids. He seemed pretty cool. I see him around occasionally. I don’t really know him that well… but he seems nice.”

  Violet nodded absently. So Stuart was involved in charity work. That magnificent onion that was Stuart Swearingen had many layers. Perhaps she’d underestimated him.

  “So you’re not going out with him anymore because you’re worried what other people will think? That’s stupid if you ask me.” Margaret pushed her chair back from the table and took her plate to the sink.

  “It’s more complicated than that,” Violet said.

  “Whatever you say. I’m going swimming at Sophie’s in a bit.”

  “Okay, have fun,” Violet said and went back to staring at her uneaten toast.

  * * *

  The next morning Violet dressed in her best suit and drove to an address she’d written down on a piece of paper. Out of the blue she’d gotten a call several days ago from a potential donor for the Musical Mentors project. The secretary had said the donor wanted to remain anonymous and would like to meet at a law firm downtown to discuss the donation further.

  Thrilled to be doing something productive and not lying around in her pajamas pining over Stuart, Violet strode through the big glass doors and gave her name to the receptionist. She only had to wait a minute before the woman took her back to an office with no nameplate on the door.

  “He’s expecting you,” she said and opened the door for Violet.

  There, behind a massive desk, with a smug look on his face, sat Stuart, looking more handsome than ever, his blond hair hanging rakishly in his face.

  Peeved, Violet snapped, “Is this a joke?” She’d been trying so hard to forget him. It was painful seeing him, knowing they couldn’t be together.

  “Nope.”

  “Then what am I doing here?” Her lips curled into a snarl.

  “You needed a donation, right? I’d like to make one,” he said.

  She balled her fists. “Oh you would, would you?”

  “Yes, and I have a proposition for you.”

  “Ugh! Stuart, I told you—we can’t see each other anymore,” she scowled.

  “I think that is a ridiculous notion, but okay. I’m talking about a business proposition, Ms. Feisty Pants. So why don’t you have a seat and hear what I have to say? Or are you so stubborn that you would forego a sizable donation for your charity out of sheer obstinacy?” He motioned to a chair.

  Hesitantly, Violet sat down. They did need the money.

  He pushed a piece of paper across the desk. It was a check with lots of zeros on it.

  “What’s this?” she asked.

  “A check for your charity from my foundation.”

  “Stuart, I can’t…”

  “Are you going to let your pride get in the way of those poor little children getting their instruments? Tsk, tsk, Violet. You really ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

  He came out from behind his desk holding something behind his back. When he got next to her chair, he bent down on one knee.

  Violet’s heart threatened to leap out of her chest! What was he doing?

  He took her hand in his. “Violet my darling, would you do me the honor of…” He pulled a rectangular object from behind his back and handed it to her. “…running my foundation?”

  It was a nameplate. Engraved on a gold background, it read, “‘Violet Weeks—Director’ then underneath ‘The Swearingen Foundation’.

  Violet sat in stunned silence. She’d thought he’d brought her here to woo her. Now he was offering her a job? The feeling in her stomach that she was in a free fall didn’t match the excitement she felt as numerous incredible possibilities raced through her brain.

  “So, what do you say? Will you head up my charitable fund? The guy who’s been running it is retiring, and it couldn’t come at a better time. We need some new blood, fresh ideas. Someone bright and passionate.” He grinned. “So, of course, I thought of you.”

  “Stuart, I don’t know what to say,” she stammered.

  “Say yes. And then let me take you to lunch.”

  “Lunch? Stuart, I thought I made myself clear.”

  “This is business, babe.” He moved in close and whispered in her ear, “And I don’t give up easily.”

  Violet giggled
in spite of herself.

  “See? It’s working. You can’t resist me. I knew it.” He stood up and perched on the edge of the desk. In addition to the element of surprise, he had another unfair advantage. How could she possibly think straight when the smell of his cologne intoxicated her and his boyish good looks drove her beyond distraction?

  “I just don’t think it will work.”

  “You’re just going to have to trust me then. I’m going to get you over this ‘age-ism’ thing you have. It’s not politically correct, you know, being prejudiced against younger people.”

  She laughed. “But Stuart, I feel like I should help you grow up, and that makes me feel like a mom. I don’t want to feel like your mother.”

  He lowered his voice. “Do you think I’d want to fuck you so badly if I thought of you as a mother?”

  “Err… probably not.” Violet waffled.

  “Violet, I’m thirty-three years old. Do you really think I’m going to be a different man when I’m sixty-three? That I’m going to be more mature, more grown up? Because I don’t. I’ll probably look a little more distinguished. Maybe a few gray hairs.” He pointed to his temples, a devilish glint in his eye.

  “Yes, I do think you’ll be more mature.” She stuck her chin out defiantly.

  “Well, I disagree, my dear. I am who I am, and it is not your job, or your place to raise me.”

  “Hmph.” She crossed her arms.

  “Dammit, Violet I’m a grown man! I don’t need another mother. I had one, God rest her soul, and I miss her. But that’s not what I want from you.” He sighed, exasperated.

  “Well, sometimes you act like a child!”

  “Sometimes you do too.” He shrugged.

  “Oh, you’re impossible!” she exclaimed, clenching her jaw.

  “Isn’t that what you love about me?” He asked, feigning innocence, he pulled her into his arms.

  “No, you’re incorrigible! “ She beat a fist on his chest, though without much force. “You act so spoiled sometimes.”

  “What do you want from me? I’m incredibly wealthy. I am spoiled. I’ve been spoiled all my life.” His shoulders drooped. “All kidding aside—I know I can be a pain in the ass. But I want to be a pain in your ass. I need you, Violet. Please say you’ll put up with me.”

  “I don’t know.” She knitted her brows, and like a dog unwilling to relinquish his bone, she asked, “Why didn’t you tell me your mother just died? I feel like you were lying to me so that I wouldn’t be scared off by you needing a new Mommy!”

  “Darling, that’s crazy. It just never came up. I wasn’t trying to hide it from you.” His face showed no signs of deception.

  “It’s hard to believe you just ‘forgot’ to tell me you recently lost your mother when I’m her age!”

  He chuckled. “You are not her age.”

  Violet looked at the floor. “Close enough.”

  He hugged her to him. “Will you quit saying that?”

  Violet cast her eyes at the floor. “Maybe.” Her resolve began to waiver.

  “Oh my God! When will you understand that I want you for you, and that I couldn’t care less how old you are?”

  A smile crept onto her face and she answered tentatively, “When you’re sixty-three?”

  “Now you’re the one who’s being incorrigible. If you’re not careful I may have to bend you over this desk and show you who’s in charge.” He kissed her deeply, claiming her with his lips.

  “Would you really?” she asked, the fire inside her winning out over her insecurities and doubts. She’d have to trust him. To hell with what anyone else thought. She wanted him desperately. As much as she’d tried to squash her feelings, she couldn’t do it anymore.

  “You bet I would,” he growled in her ear.

  Secure in her decision for the first time, an unfamiliar happiness washed over her as she watched Stuart walk across the room and lock the door.

  Epilogue

  The door to Violet’s office flew open, and through it marched Stuart, looking remarkably handsome in a new gray Armani suit and purple tie. His ever-present five o’clock shadow kept his business attire from creating too formal an appearance. Instead, with his longer hair, he looked more the part of lovable rake than uptight CEO. She loved his hair best at this length, right before he got it cut. “Violet, I told you to send me the Burstweiler reports!” he exclaimed, closing the door behind him. “Where are they?”

  Violet glanced up from her computer. “What are the Burstweiler reports?” She felt a twinge of joy at his arrival. Though she wouldn’t admit it aloud, she’d been daydreaming about him all day.

  He shrugged. “I don’t know, but I wanted your secretary to think we had urgent business to discuss.” He picked up her phone and spoke into it. “Gloria, please hold all Ms. Weeks’s calls.”

  Replacing the phone in its cradle he favored her with a mischievous grin. Holding a hand out to help her up, she took it and rose from her chair. “I really do have a lot of work to get to today…” she said in weak protest.

  He took her in his arms. “I won’t keep you long.” He touched his lips to hers and clutching her rear end, he pulled her to him so that her pelvis crushed against his, the pressing bulge of his erection giving away his intentions. She opened to him and tangled her tongue against his. He tasted of coffee and mint, and the smell of his cologne drifted under her nose, leaving her weak-kneed the way it always did.

  Running a hand over the curves of her waist and hips, he whispered, “Turn around and bend over your desk, Ms. Weeks.”

  She gave a little huff in false protest but twirled around and leaned over, resting her weight on her torso.

  “Hands behind your back,” he demanded.

  With a whimper, Violet gave him her hands. She heard a whooshing sound, then felt him bind her wrists with a slick, soft fabric. He used his tie to restrain her hands behind her back, which made her wriggle with pleasure.

  “Did you lock the door?” she asked excitedly.

  “Should I have?” he teased.

  “Stuart!”

  “Gloria thinks you’re in a meeting with me. She won’t disturb us.”

  “She might if it’s important.”

  “What could be more important than this?” He draped himself over her and nibbled at her neck.

  “Stuart, please!” There was no way she’d be able to relax and enjoy their time together if she was worried about someone walking in on them the whole time.

  “Alright, darling.” He sighed and crossed the room to lock the door with the click of a button. “Happy now?”

  “Deliriously.” The corners of her mouth stretched from ear to ear, and she eagerly anticipated what he would do to her next.

  He lifted her skirt and slowly pulled down her panties. “What do we have here?” His hand darted between her legs and he fingered her pussy. “Nice and wet.”

  Then he moved around her desk, pulled out a drawer and started rummaging around in it.

  “What are you looking for?” Violet asked.

  “Hmm. I’ll know it when I see it,” he said. “Aha!” He brought out a ruler. “Perfect.”

  He stood behind her and she heard him unfasten his pants. She felt the head of his cock against her opening and she spread her legs apart farther, making it easier for him to enter her.

  “You are such a greedy girl, aren’t you Violet?” he teased, stroking her pussy, dragging a thumb across her little button, driving her mad with desire.

  She groaned. “Yes, sir.”

  His cock pushed into her. Showing great restraint, he hovered with just the tip inside her, and she felt the crack of the ruler on her bottom cheek.

  “Stuart,” she hissed.

  “Yes, love?” he asked swatting her again.

  “What will Gloria think?”

  “That you were a very naughty girl for not giving me the Burstwilder files like I asked.”

  Giggl
ing in spite of herself, Violet said, “I thought it was Burstweiler.”

  “Whatever.” He spanked her again with the ruler, making her bottom sing. “Either way, you’re a very naughty girl who needs to be punished.”

  “I am,” she agreed and settled onto the desk, ready to accept whatever he gave her.

  He brought the ruler down on her cheeks again and the stinging sensation radiated across her ass, heating her posterior and making her pussy clench tightly around his cock.

  With a growl, he tossed the ruler onto the desk and clutched her hips as he penetrated her fully. Seating himself inside her, he rocked back and fucked her with deep, swift thrusts. He reached around and manipulated her clit until she came hard, bucking and thrashing underneath him. Her orgasm seemed to last forever, coming in wave upon wave of pleasure, threatening to take her under like a current in the ocean. Only Stuart knew how to do that to her, how to maximize her enjoyment and leave her completely ravaged.

  His efforts pushed her hard against the desk and she was grateful for its support. Having a younger man for a lover certainly had its advantages. She didn’t know a man her age who was as athletic and fit as Stuart, and she’d never known a man of any age as committed to giving his partner pleasure the way Stuart was. In exchange for his attentions, all she had to do was be available and submit to him when he wanted her and so far, that had been an easy order to fill.

  He came inside her with a catch of his breath. When he stilled, he held her close and whispered in her ear, “Violet, I do love you. You make me such a happy man. I’m so glad I ran into you that day at the country club. Say you’ll stay with me always.”

  She turned around and cradled his cheek in her hand. “I love you too, and don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere.”

  The End

  Stormy Night Publications would like to thank you for your interest in our books.

  If you liked this book (or even if you didn’t), we would really appreciate you leaving a review on the site where you purchased it. Reviews provide useful feedback for us and our authors, and this feedback (both positive comments and constructive criticism) allows us to work even harder to make sure we provide the content our customers want to read.