Billionaire Erotic Romance Boxed Set: 7 Steamy Full-Length Novels

by Priscilla West

  I hesitated, unsure of what to say. I was eager to become a bigger part of the art world in San Francisco, and I certainly wanted to put my knowledge to good use, but Victor and I had an agreement—in exchange for food and shelter, I was supposed to work as his maid. If Marissa offered me the position, it wouldn’t really be up to me if I could take it. And what if he did let me take it? I wasn’t sure I could work my first real job in two years and still give him the kind of attention the contract demanded. There definitely wasn’t a clause that would let me off the hook for being too tired or too busy for sex, and, honestly, I didn’t want to be off the hook. Our sex life had reached a whole new level—I had never really known what it was like to have my mind blown until my first experience in his bedroom.

  But I wanted the job, I was excited about the idea of being surrounded by art all day every day, and I couldn’t deny that.

  I asked Marissa if she could give me a minute and walked over to Victor, hoping he wouldn’t be opposed to the idea of me working outside of the mansion.

  “I think Marissa Jones might offer me a job,” I said bashfully.

  “You think or you know?” he asked, turning away from the crowd he’d been talking to and leaning in to me.

  “She says they have a part-time position available and wants to hear my thoughts on the exhibit. If I impress her, I think she’ll offer.”

  “I was hoping you’d have a chance to show off some of your knowledge tonight. Don’t keep her waiting too long.”

  “Wait, you’re okay with this?”

  “You’re not my prisoner, Dove. If you want the job, I’m not going to stand in your way.” He smiled at me and nudged me back toward Marissa.

  I spent the next hour offering my opinions on the pieces in the gallery and made a few layout suggestions. I practically kissed Marissa when she offered me the job at the end of the evening.

  Dove the maid was out. I would be an assistant curator of the city’s newest art gallery from now on.

  Chapter Eighteen

  The week before my first day in the office was filled with activity. Because he was a prominent and wealthy man, Victor had to attend many social functions. This wasn’t anything new to me, but the fact that he wanted to take me to each and every one of them was. As I watched him tirelessly weave in and out of conversations, I realized that he sometimes made sudden trips to places like Paris to escape from it all. I admired his ability to remain so composed at every single function. If it hadn’t been for his hand in mine, I would have felt like hiding.

  Whatever Victor was doing at work was causing a lot of press, so there were cameras left and right whenever we arrived at parties.

  People seemed to be interested in me during our first few outings, and Victor would tell them that I was an artist working for the Lotus Gallery. I guess I didn’t know how prestigious the gallery was until the cameras were pointed in my face. I was thankful that I took extra care to make sure my liquid eyeliner was symmetrical on both sides considering that my face would be splattered on celebrity news TV or tabloids.

  “I haven’t even started working yet,” I whispered to Victor as we ducked into a large bar on Market Street, finally escaping the paparazzi. We found a table and ordered drinks to unwind from the earlier intensity of the evening.

  “These people are fishing for stories. They’re not going to care about the little details, unless the little details are interesting enough.” I had to admit that it was nice to finally be recognized for my own work and not for being the woman on Victor’s arm.

  “Have you been in the tabloids?” I asked hesitantly. I wasn’t sure why I’d never thought of it before; Victor was one of the wealthiest people in America, of course the media would be interested in him.

  “More than I’d like to admit.” I imagined a smartly dressed Evelyn standing proudly by Victor’s side on the front page of the “Enquirer” but quickly pushed the thought from my mind.

  “All this talk about my job is making me nervous for my first day.” I wasn’t sure if I was cut out for the working world after spending so many years jobless. I didn’t think my experience recycling cans was going to help me much in an art gallery, and my time as Victor’s maid wasn’t exactly conventional.

  “They get hundreds of applicants at Lotus, they’re not going to take just anyone,” Victor said.

  “They could’ve hired me because of you.” I stared into the drink in my hand, afraid that the look on Victor’s face might reaffirm my suspicions. He was a powerful and well-connected man, there wasn’t a person in the city who would say no to him.

  “Dove, I didn’t have anything to do with this job offer.” He reached across the table and set his large, calloused hands over mine, calming the anxiety that had risen in me.

  “We should go home after these drinks,” I said, smiling up at him. “I want to be fresh for my first day.”

  ***

  I woke up in my own bed at six thirty a.m., having avoided Victor’s room last evening for fear of being up all night. I had just enough time to take a shower and get dressed. Oscar said that he would drive me to the city and pick me up at the end of the day, warning me that public transportation would take forever.

  I quickly showered and changed into dress pants and a plain white blouse, a nice change from my former maid attire. I brushed my damp hair and braided it before pinning it around my head into a bun, letting a few locks fall around my face for a soft touch. I twirled around in front of the mirror a few times, making sure that everything was in place and admiring my new professional look. I glanced over at Victor’s closed door, trying not to think of him naked in bed. I guess sleeping in separate rooms didn’t exactly sharpen my focus, the thought of him seemed to always distract me.

  But I knew I had to force those thoughts out of my head as I descended the staircase. Oscar was waiting for me by the front door. “Ready, Miss Dove?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

  It was about a half hour drive from the mansion to the Lotus Gallery in San Francisco. Oscar gave me a “thumbs up” sign, a funny gesture coming from someone who looked like an early 1900s butler, but it seemed to calm me down. I gave him a reassuring smile and entered the building.

  Marissa’s secretary led me to a large office, mostly empty except for a desktop computer on a spacious desk, and a bookshelf on one wall. I walked over to the window and was greeted by the San Francisco skyline as well as the bay beyond it. I was awestruck by the buildings, rising and falling like mountains against the cloudless sky. I was reveling in the beauty of the view when Marissa came in.

  “I take it you’re going to like where you work?” she asked.

  I quickly turned around and saw that she was smiling amiably at me. Unable to contain my excitement and put at ease by her casual attire, a far cry from the gown she was wearing when I met her, I gave her a smile in return. “Just a few months ago I’d never thought I’d be standing here. Thank you so much for this opportunity.”

  “Victor has told me great things about you.” She walked over to my desk and placed a stack of papers and a binder on top of it. “Your first job should be pretty simple. I just want you to look through these portfolios and pick out some of your favorites. We’re deciding which ones to showcase in the gallery in the upcoming weeks. There are also some artists I want you to pick out for a few national magazine covers.”

  National magazines? No wonder the paparazzi were all over me when Victor mentioned that I worked for the gallery.

  “Let me know if you need any help.”

  “Thanks, Marissa.” Victor had said good things about me? What kind of things? But I quickly forgot about Marissa’s comment as I began shuffling through the paperwork, looking at portfolio after portfolio of outstanding artists. They were all amazing, how was I ever going to decide?

  Fifteen minutes later, I was standing over my desk; papers sprawled across the surface as I continued to consider the different artists. The door opened suddenly. Thinking
it was Marissa, I started talking about a particular artist who held my interest, but I stopped as I heard the snapping sound of the door locking. I glanced up and saw Victor standing there. He was wearing his usual work attire: a fitted suit with a black tie. His hair was half-heartedly styled back away from his face, and the cool expression on his face caused me to suck in a breath of air. How the heck did he do it?

  “Victor, why—I mean what are you doing here?” I stuttered. My legs seemed to lose their function at the sight of him, and I had to sit down in my chair. “Is everything okay?”

  “I’m a huge sponsor of this place, I thought I’d come see how things were running,” he said suggestively as he loosened his tie. I dropped my papers on my desk as he came towards me.

  “Now?” I whispered, a smile forming on my lips before I could even think twice about showing my excitement. Damn it. I could ignore the thought of him all I wanted but once he was in the same room with me, my body seemed to enjoy betraying my mind.

  “Yes, now. You didn’t sleep in my room last night. I’m going to lose my mind if we wait til the end of the day,” he said as he started unbuttoning my blouse. He slipped the fabric off my shoulders and tossed it to the ground. He continued with my bra, unhooking it in a matter of seconds.

  He massaged my breasts with both hands, and I gasped at his touch. My nipples immediately hardened into small, perky beads as he caressed my desperate, aching skin.

  I brushed my hand against his pants, where his erection pressed firmly against the fabric, waiting for me, wanting me. I helped him out by unbuckling his belt and unzipping his pants. I pushed everything down to the floor in hurried anticipation. His hard cock was standing straight up for me, shrouded partly by the hem of his white shirt and suit jacket.

  “I should really be working right now,” I murmured as my body grew into full heat. He stepped out of his pants, and I couldn’t tear my eyes from him as he moved closer to me.

  “You think I care, Dove?” His voice was raspy as I reached out and touched his stiff cock. I caressed it needily with my hands.

  “Take off your shoes,” he commanded.

  I flicked my heels to the corner of the room and shimmied out of my work pants. Victor got on his knees and pulled down my panties with his teeth before burying his face into my pussy. I had to hold onto his shoulders to keep my legs from buckling underneath me as his tongue flicked in and out of me teasingly.

  He got up from his knees and pushed me backward so that I was sitting on the windowsill, the backdrop of San Francisco right behind me. My bare back was there for the city to see, although I was almost certain the windows were tinted enough so that no one could actually see in.

  Victor spread my legs apart with his hands and blew softly into me. I stifled my moan so that my co-workers in neighboring offices wouldn’t hear. He pulled off his shoes and socks so that I was left admiring his sculpted thighs and calves, cut as smooth and strong as stone. His cock was ready for me and already glistening at the tip even before he entered my body. My back was pressed firmly against the window, and I felt a moment of panic, thinking that the window would burst and I would fall down below to my death. That fear only lingered for a split second, disappearing as soon as I felt him fill my pussy, his thick cock pushing against my walls. He thrust into my body with all his strength, and this time I let out a loud cry as I wrapped my legs around him and pushed my hips out so that he could drive deeper.

  “If I remember correctly,” he grunted as he glided into me, “this is part of your job.”

  “How could I forget?” I gripped the ledge until my knuckles had turned white, feeling my orgasm building in every part of me.

  As he moved his pelvis against my clit, the sexual tension I felt that morning boiled inside me, and I leaned forward to tear off his shirt and jacket. I clawed at Victor’s back as I let him fuck me hard, feeling myself tremble as my pussy tightened before exploding into a series of blissful convulsions. Tears streamed down my face as my orgasm released the pent up need inside of me, and I writhed against him in ecstasy.

  Afterwards, we were lying on the floor, still naked and wrapped in one another’s embrace. My head rested on his hard chest as I trailed my fingertips up and down his bare hips and thighs. “I would’ve expected Marissa to come check on me,” I said. “I’m surprised she hasn’t come knocking.”

  “I told her to not come by your office for a while,” he said, a glint of humor in his eyes. “She knows me well enough to not ask questions.”

  I wasn’t sure if I wanted to know if she knew what was going on in here. As much as I enjoyed Victor’s visit, I hoped it hadn’t compromised my job. I pressed my face against his chest, feeling the steady rise and fall of his breathing.

  “I received word from your doctor about the MRI.”

  I lifted my head to look at him. “Really? What did he say?”

  “It looks like you suffered from extensive head trauma at some point long ago and your brain didn’t heal properly. He said that you can come in for further evaluations, but it could be possible that you’re the only one capable of regaining your memories.”

  I thought about my options for a moment. Did I even want to know about my past at this point, now that I was establishing a new life? If I had been offered that chance while I was still suffering in the streets then perhaps I would have accepted it. But things had taken a turn for the better and I wasn’t sure I wanted anything to get in the way of that.

  “No, I don’t think I want to go back to him. I don’t think my past is important to me anymore. My future is what matters now, here working in this office, and being with you.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “I’m sure,” I said and reached for my top. “That is, if I’m still working in this office tomorrow. I need to get back to work!”

  Victor stood up, his chiseled body calling to me even after such a satisfying release but I turned from him, quickly pulling on my clothes.

  “Well,” he said once he had his clothes back on. “I see things are running just fine here.” He gave me a devious smile and left the office, giving me a moment to compose myself before returning to the pictures on my desk.

  Marissa knocked on the door a few minutes later and slowly opened it. I brushed my hands casually over my hair to smooth down any wild ends as she stepped in. “I’m just checking in on you, in case you need anything. How’s your work going?” If she had any idea what went on behind closed doors, she did well to mask it. I silently thanked her for that.

  “I’ve picked out a few of my favorites.” I pulled a thick portfolio from the haphazard collection of pictures on my desk. “Their styles are distinct in nature, but I also think that the similar color schemes could look good if we were to set up their exhibits next to each other.”

  Marissa looked down at the portfolio I handed to her. “Oh wow, very good. I was actually thinking the same thing when I looked through these earlier.” She looked up and gave me a smile. “I think you’re going to fit right in, Dove.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  “How are you feeling about tonight?” Victor asked as I arranged and rearranged prints of the pieces for that night’s exhibit on the dining room table. It had been two weeks since I began my job at Lotus and Marissa had already asked me to help curate a new show in the city. I’d changed the layout for the exhibit twice since she’d brought me onto the project and there I was, on the day of the show, reconsidering it for the third time.

  “Does this look right to you?” I asked, ignoring his question in fear that I might unravel if I acknowledged the pressure I was feeling. Although Marissa had been nothing but supportive of my ideas for the exhibit, I was still determined to impress her. I hadn’t had anything that was truly my own since I met Victor; I appreciated everything he’d done for me but it felt good to be doing something for myself.

  “I thought it looked right the first time. And then the second time,” he joked.

  “I don’t know, I think th
ese—”

  “Dove.”

  I felt him plant himself behind me and settle his hands on my hips, spinning me around so that we were facing one another. “I think you need to relax.” I couldn’t help but feel a sense of calm resonate through me as he leaned in and took my chin in his hand. Despite all the work I had left to do, I couldn’t pull myself away from his touch. He drew his face near mine, our lips brushing briefly before he pulled away, distracting me with the tease. I bit my lip in restrained agitation and stood on my tiptoes in an attempt to lure him back to me.

  “Do you want me to kiss you?” he asked in a low growl.

  “Yes,” I breathed as I stared longingly at his lips. His mouth met mine with greedy desperation, our lips parting as our tongues slid over one another. I ran my hands through his hair, gripping it in my fists as he pushed me up against the table and began untucking my shirt from my jeans. I felt that familiar warmth begin to gather between my legs and leaned back onto the tabletop behind me. But as my hands hit the prints I had been arranging all morning I felt a surge of anxiety pulse through me and quickly turned from Victor, refusing to let myself become distracted for too long.

  “You certainly know how to clear a girl’s head.” I untangled myself from him and began to tuck my shirt back into my jeans. “But this will have to wait. I need to have this figured out by two and then head to the gallery.”

  He sighed with frustration as he smoothed back his hair, forcing a tight-lipped smile onto his face. “I should be getting to work, too.” He kissed my forehead. “I’ll see you at the show tonight, and then after. You know I hate to be kept waiting.”

  He headed for the foyer, adjusting his pants as he went, and I couldn’t help but laugh. Although I felt slightly guilty for snubbing him, I knew that I would make up for it later. Since I had gotten the job at Lotus, I had been spending more time away from the mansion, and from him. I could tell it bothered him and, although he had the power to keep me at home under his watch, he didn’t say anything about it. As I fixed my disheveled clothing, I found myself questioning the necessity of my contract with Victor—I wasn’t his maid anymore, and he definitely didn’t need any piece of paper to convince me to get in bed with him. From the day I had met him, I seemed to lose any and all will power at his hands, and the only thing that rivaled him for my attention was my work, but that was certainly no real threat.