Womanizer (A Standalone Novel) (A Steamy Alpha Billionaire Romance)

by Tyler, Nella

  WOMANIZER

  By Nella Tyler

  This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the writer's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or organizations is entirely coincidental.

  Copyright © 2015 Nella Tyler

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  Chapter 1

  Her head moved up and down my shaft in a deliberate attempt to please me. She wanted to impress me with her skills. I didn’t mind. More power to any woman who wanted to put out the extra effort to please me, but her blowjob wasn’t anything special. It didn’t feel different from any number of women who had sucked on me before.

  I closed my eyes and enjoyed her mouth; just because she wasn’t doing an exceptional job was no reason to turn her away. A mediocre blowjob was still a blowjob.

  My mind wandered to work and the current market trends; that’s how I knew it wasn’t a good blowjob. An exceptional sucking would leave my mind too numb for thought. Instead, I was left to analyze precisely the stocks in my head and plan what I would purchase Monday morning. The stock market consumed me; morning to night I constantly had the ticker tape of companies in my head.

  Her brown hair seemed to get in the way, so I reached down and held onto it. Not only did it help her by keeping her hair out of the way of my cock, but it also allowed me to guide her head a little in the motions. I pulled tight on her hair, and she looked up at me. She probably wanted to say something about it hurting, but decided not to.

  I watched as her red lips made a perfect circle around my cock. Her tight lips pressed down on me, and the pressure was fantastic; if only she could get the stroke down, then she would be much better at giving head.

  Her skin was flawless, and my hands stroked the back of her neck as she thrust her head up and down on top of me. She didn’t have a freckle, mole, or blemish anywhere on her back. It fascinated me.

  Her round ass was exposed, and I couldn’t help but think about how much she would scream out when I entered her from behind. It was only a matter of time before I gave up on her oral sex skills and decided to fuck her to get this over with.

  “Deeper,” I commanded as I guided her throat to take my cock as far as she could.

  Like a good girl, she did. Her eyes went wide as my cock entered her throat, and she seemed to be surprised that she could take it so deep. Again and again she thrust her mouth down and soon I felt the pleasure of my cum building up for a grand explosion.

  The sucking sound echoed throughout my bedroom; I loved that sound. It sometimes echoed in my mind long after the girl had left for the night. I purposely kept very minimal pictures and decorations on my bedroom walls so nothing got in the way of the sound.

  I used the leverage I had on her head to thrust her down hard as I finally released deep into her throat. She seemed delighted when it was over and moved her mouth to kiss up my abs. Oh, how I hated this part. Her lips moved slowly up my body, and her dark brown eyes looked up at me. She wanted more; the desire filled her eyes.

  It was after the sex when they always wanted to cuddle or talk. None of that was my thing; I was there to please them. I wanted to show them how hot sex could be when they got away from their straight-laced, boring boyfriends. I didn’t cuddle. I sometimes did fall asleep with them in my bed, though, but only when the sex was exceptional.

  “How was that baby?” the girl asked as she stood up in front of me.

  Her body was insane, with curves in all the right places. She had perky breasts and a tight little ass. I think her name was Mary, or maybe it was Martha; I couldn’t remember. I reached out and pulled her close to me. My lips moved gently along her breast until I found her nipple and pulled it into my mouth.

  She moaned with pleasure as I flicked and licked one nipple and then the other. My body reacted to the taste of her.

  “Oh yes, babe, I like that,” she moaned.

  I had picked a good one; I had a feeling she would scream and moan so my neighbors could hear. I loved it when a girl could disturb the rotten, uptight couple that I shared the floor with. They wouldn’t know good sex if it hit them right in the head. Constantly the husband was sent to knock on my door and request I keep it down. He always looked defeated as he obliged his wife and did as he was told.

  I picked Mary, or Martha, up at the bar. She had giggled with her girlfriends when they looked at me. I could have picked any of them, but she seemed to be the most willing. Our conversation consisted of her talking about her job, something boring I assume since I couldn’t remember it. Then when I got her away from her friends, I easily had her full attention. With a couple compliments and a wink, she was on her way back to my apartment with me.

  Women were so predictable. It shouldn’t be that easy to pick up a woman in New York City, but it was. Pay attention to them, smile, listen and they were yours. These women had spent years with assholes hitting on them; the second you could appear as a nice guy, they were ready to spread their legs and let you have them all night long.

  They knew I didn’t want a relationship. They knew I was in it for the night only, but that didn’t scare them away. Having a one night stand might not have been something most of these women ever thought they would do. But the second I was in front of them with my nice guy smile and my custom suit, their panties just dropped for me.

  It wasn’t a coincidence that I liked to hang out at Edward’s, the bar on the corner of 5th street near my condo in downtown New York City. The bar was a magnet for business professionals and the women were always overworked and undersexed, which made them ripe for the picking.

  As we entered my building, the doorman and entryway always impressed them. It was a lavish building for sure; Donald Trump had built it with the intention of impressing people from the moment they walked in. It certainly did do that. Women got wet just from the mirrored elevator ride up to my apartment. Of course, I helped entice them with a long and seductive kiss as we made our way up to the 32nd floor.

  When we exited the elevator, it always surprised them that there were only two apartments on my entire floor. That alone showed the grand size of my condo and I could hear the dollar signs ringing in the women’s heads when they arrived. This particular girl tried to pretend like she wasn’t impressed, but I knew better. Everyone knows how much real estate costs in New York; some people pay over $1 million for a small one bedroom apartment.

  My condo cost me a cool $13 million dollars and its worth had grown to almost twice that in the last five years. My investments continued to grow, and as much as I wanted to continue to invest and grow my money, a new condo had been on my mind for awhile. I wanted the penthouse somewhere. Having half the floor wasn’t good enough for me anymore; I wanted the entire top floor of a building. I needed to keep hustling and growing my portfolio of investments if I was ever going to make that dream happen.

  When I opened my door, there was no way the women didn’t drench themselves. My apartment was styled by a professional and looked straight out of architecture digest. Even though I hardly spent more than a couple hours a day in my apartment, it still looked well lived in and adequately appointed with all the necessities.

  My professional kitchen would often be the first thing to draw the women into a conversation. Their hands would run along the smooth granite and their eyes widened at the sight of my floor to ceiling walk-in refrigerator. One person couldn’t consume enough food
for such a large fridge, but it was always stocked with the random necessities that any woman who came by might want to try. Strawberries, yogurt, champagne, vegetables, and many other female friendly foods were always available. Women love a man who eats healthy, so I stocked it with colorful foods that enticed them and made me look like a health nut.

  As much as I hated to let a woman actually stay overnight, it did happen every now and then. I had found that the best way to get them going in the morning was to feed them and rush them out the door. On the special occasion that I might want to see the woman again, I would let her sit to eat her meal. If I didn’t want to see her again, I tried to give her some grab and go foods as I hurried off to work.

  As Mary, or Martha, stood in front of me, I could see she wanted more. She wasn’t satisfied to have given me head; this girl wanted the fun to continue. I didn’t answer her question about how I enjoyed the oral sex she had given; instead, I just bent her over the bed.

  I reached over and grabbed a condom from my drawer and slid it on with a quick ease that I had gained through my many encounters. The best way to keep a girl from talking is to make her scream.

  Girls loved to be fucked. They longed for it and most of them never had a magnificent fucking in all of their life. They spent their time looking for the man they would marry instead of a man that could fuck them unconscious.

  I didn't always fuck them until they passed out, but man oh man did I love to hear them scream with pleasure. There was something primal about the way a woman screamed when she orgasmed—there was nothing like it in the world.

  Mary Martha grabbed my black satin sheets as I slid into her. I started off slow, just to get a feel for her and how she would react. My hands held tight to her delicate hips and I pressed hard into her.

  “Oh God, Evan. Yes, just like that,” she moaned.

  I kind of wished I remember her name. A twinge of guilt hit me as she called out my name, but I couldn’t remember hers.

  My thrusts continued long and hard and she stopped talking. Instead, she was consumed by moans of pleasure as her body enjoyed my deep motions. I grabbed her hair again and pulled her body up. The leverage was nice and I put my other hand on her shoulder to ensure I could press her body tight against mine.

  “Harder,” she screamed out.

  Oh, how I loved it when they said that. It was like an invitation to plow into them with all my force. It was a girl saying she liked a little rough thrusting to help get her to the orgasm of her lifetime. I happily obliged the command.

  My hands held onto her hair and shoulder and I plowed my cock into her as hard as I could humanly thrust. Her moans were deep and primal and soon I felt her body start to stiffen up. I let out the last couple thrusts just in time to see her entire body tighten up as she was rocked by an intense orgasm.

  Her legs started to shake as she collapsed onto the bed. I gave her a couple gently thrusts and then pulled out of her. A quick stop at the bathroom and I climbed into bed next to her. I could tell she was exhausted and wouldn’t be able to walk anytime soon. I guessed Mary Martha would have to spend the night. I didn’t mind, I was exhausted myself and would be asleep in only a matter of minutes.

  Chapter 2

  I dreaded the morning game. The girl never liked the idea of a one night stand and perpetually wanted to try and make things last. Sometimes I was into them and would string them along for a couple of dates, but typically the one night was all we would have together. I just couldn’t get past the sex and move into the part of a relationship where I had to pretend to like the things she did. It bored me and wasted my time—both things I hated.

  Mary Martha would only be a one-nighter. I couldn’t waste my time with someone who didn’t give good head. Although she certainly was delicious to look at while she had her mouth wrapped around me.

  I was up early and showered by the time she started to stir. I made her some oatmeal and threw some blueberries on there for her. The coffee was hot and I had a large assortment of creams and syrups she could add. It was only a matter of time before she would get the hint that we were eating and then leaving—both of us in separate directions.

  “Good morning,” she said sweetly as she got up.

  “Hope you slept well.”

  “Yes, unusually well. What time is it?”

  “Seven o’clock,” I answered as I gathered my things and loaded my briefcase.

  My morning ritual included packing my briefcase, putting my clothes on, putting my shoes on and then finally my tie. As I went from one task to the next, I would happily make small talk with her, but just a little so she had time to eat her food.

  They always got the hint that it was time to get moving, this one was no different. She finished her oatmeal and grabbed her things from the bedroom. She was a sweet girl and I knew she would find her prince charming soon enough. I certainly wasn’t him. My charms were relegated to the bedroom and that was about all I could handle of most women.

  “Are you taking a cab into work? I’ll split it with you,” she said as she looked at me with longing in her eyes.

  “Sorry, I usually walk to work. I’ll get an Uber for you, though,” I said as I punched in my address in my Uber app.

  The driver would be there in less than five minutes, so we headed down to the lobby. The elevator ride down was not nearly as erotic as the one on the way up. Perhaps the light of day changed the feeling of the elevator, or maybe it was the lack of emotions from me after we had just spent the night together.

  “It was great meeting you, call me,” Mary Martha said.

  I looked down at the paper she handed me—Margaret 212-555-5514. Oh, I was horrible with names. It amazed me just how quick I had forgotten her name when we first met. She said her name and within a minute I had no idea at all who she was or what she was doing at Edwards last night when I picked her up.

  “Take care of yourself, sweetheart. You're beautiful. Don’t ever forget that.”

  The least I could do was try to build up a girl’s ego if I was never going to call them. It worked well as a way to ease the tension and uncomfortable feelings as we said our goodbyes. The morning after goodbyes was always the worse. You didn’t know whether to kiss them or push them into their Uber car as fast as possible.

  As she got into the car, I leaned in and gave her a peck on the cheek. Kissing on the mouth was too intimate unless I was in the middle of fucking a girl. The morning goodbye kiss had to be on the cheek. It was distant enough that she didn’t get her hopes up and personal enough that she wasn’t offended.

  When she had safely entered the car, I turned and walked around the corner to my gym. I hated that I had to put my suit on before going to the gym, but it was just harder to get the women out the door if they thought I was just heading to the gym. When they thought I had work to get to, it was much easier to get them out the door.

  The gym was my comfort zone and I sometimes went there twice a day. My morning routine consisted of a quick 30 to 60-minute jog while I watched all the latest market news. There was no reason I needed to sit at my desk and get up to date on the news when I could be more productive and get my workout in at the same time.

  My evening workouts were typically reserved for weight training and strengthening exercises. I liked to take my time and concentrate on one group of muscles per day. It was a part of my ritual to relax after a long day—well, unless I planned to head to Edward’s after work and have a drink with a few guys from work.

  I tried to keep my visits to the bar limited to two or three times a week. Otherwise, I was just too exhausted to keep up with the trending market changes. It was essential that I kept a sharp mind and didn’t forget important information; lack of sleep could change my functioning for the day very quickly. I needed at least six hours of sleep every night.

  The stock market was a finicky place. If you missed one small piece of information, you could throw off your entire portfolio. Luckily, I hardly missed any important information and I
was skilled at gathering what I needed to make the trades that would work best for me and my clients.

  Over the last eight years, I had skyrocketed to the top of my trading firm and earned myself some pretty lucrative incentives. At Taylor Trading Incorporated, I started as a floor trader and worked nearly 100 hours a week. Now I was a market advisor and didn’t have to work nearly as many hours, but had dozens of people who worked with me and developed new and trending techniques for building wealth in the stock market.

  It sounded harder than it was. Basically, my job was to buy a stock that went up and sell stock before it went down. The simplicity of my job was actually very hard to explain to others, though.

  “Hey,” a delicious blonde on the treadmill next to me said.

  “How’s your morning?”

  “Great. You watching the All Warren Clothing IPO?” she asked.

  I wasn’t actually paying much attention to it; clothing companies just weren’t my thing. But I did know enough about it to keep the company on my radar. Alicia Warren grew up in Illinois, same as I did. She started her clothing line from her college dorm room and built it up into a multi-million dollar company. It would likely make quite a few people rich after the IPO was released in a couple weeks.

  I loved IPO’s, or initial public offerings. It was essential to understanding the business you were buying stock in and it was necessary to do as much research as possible before throwing thousands of your dollars away. Some IPO’s were dangerously overpriced and saw the initial investment decline rapidly with the market changes.

  “Yeah, not too closely, though. What do you think?”

  The joy of living and working out so close to the stock exchange was that almost anyone I ran into wanted to talk about stocks.

  “I think it’s a grower for sure. I’m investing several thousand dollars of my own money, not so much for my clients, though. The clients always want minimal risk for their rewards.”