Under His Control (An Alpha Billionaire Romance)

by Alexa Davis

  Beaming, I handed him a slip of paper with my name and number. There was a lot I couldn’t wait to see, and I hoped he would call soon. As I watched him exit the club, I realized it had a lot less to do with my news story and lot more to do with missing him. Maybe it would be better if he didn’t call; I could tell I was already in too deep.

  Chapter Two: Dante

  I hated to have to leave the club and that sexy chick with the auburn hair and emerald eyes. God, she was smoking hot! She hadn’t been to that bar before; I know because I’d have noticed. Also, her eyes darted around the room a lot, like someone who was taking everything in for the first time. I saw her searching for exits, bumbling to the bar, and scanning for the dance floor. When she sat in the stool next to me, she slid up onto it awkwardly like it was the first time she’d done it. The way she looked shy and uncomfortable in that dress of hers let me know she wasn’t used to dressing so provocatively or so expensively. Her story about breaking up with her boyfriend and feeling demeaned in her job explained it all. Young women scorned by love and unfulfilled in their lives often came to clubs like this one looking for a night of meaningless sex to boost their self-worth and make them feel sexy again. I was willing to help them out in just the way they wanted, but it was most fun with girls like Natalie who weren’t experienced players and still had the sweet naiveté under their sexy made-up exteriors. Natalie definitely had the whole good girl trying to go bad thing going for her, and I wasn’t ashamed to admit that it really turned me on.

  She wasn’t too bad at it, either. The way she danced on the floor showed me that there really was a naughty side buried deep inside her just dying to bubble to the surface and break free. She just needed someone to encourage her and give her the permission she was seeking to enjoy it. And the way her eyes dilated with interest when I was talking about women and control told me she was receptive to the type of games I liked to play.

  Then fucking Richard had to call and ruin and everything. That fucking moron may be the head of his department at the CIA, but he was a complete dipshit as far as I was concerned. Every little skirmish in the Middle East had him panicking and ready to tell the president it was time to push the little red button. Christ, he drove me nuts! I was sure the panic attack he was having now was over nothing, too, but my contract with the government was my biggest and best paying job of all and if I wanted to keep living the billionaire lifestyle I was accustomed to, then I had better keep my best client happy; even if it meant taking calls from a pussy mid-level administrator at midnight on a Friday.

  I drove my Ferrari through the streets of Manhattan to my building and the security guards opened the gates allowing me into the private garage below. My personal parking space was located in the southwest corner where I didn’t have to worry about anyone getting to close to it or scratching the paint. My car was my baby and I pampered her shamelessly.

  I typed in my security code and was granted access to the private elevator that bypassed the lobby and took me directly from the garage to the penthouse. I had purchased the entire top floor of the building two years ago, with cash. It was a huge step up from my humble upbringings living in the Queens borough. Owning my own penthouse condo afforded me luxury, security, and status, but what I loved most about it was the view. I could be the king of world staring out over the city, and indeed many days I felt just like I was. My hacking skills meant that I had very powerful friends and there was no enemy on earth that could stop me. I was the very best at what I did, and with the click of a button on my computer, I could make leaders, destroy countries, and even affect the politics of the world. Was I a smug asshole? Perhaps, but I also happened to be right.

  The elevator door opened and I strolled out onto the fortieth floor and into my luxury condo. A window in my front hall offered a view to the east, with the River and Triboro Bridge in the distance. It was a truly beautiful at night and I admired it as I took off my coat and hung it on the antique brass coat rack and kicked off my Italian shoes.

  I walked into my kitchen, past the custom crafted oak cabinets and floors of imported marble, and poured myself a sifter of brandy that had been gifted to me from a client. My living room had acoustic panorama windows that provided a breathtaking view of Central Park to the west and the NYC skyline to the south. It was the reason I had purchased the condo and something I never got tired of gazing at.

  Finally, I reached my office and punched in the security code on the door. I activated my computer system and the four monitors came to life with vibrant color. Within moments, I had logged on with my private security codes and accessed the satellites, cell phone towers, and personal computers I needed to see into the private lives of some of top leaders in the Middle East. Nothing that I saw came as any surprise to me and I knew that once again Richard had panicked over nothing.

  Trying to keep the exasperation out of my voice, I gave him a call and assured him the activity his sources had alerted him to was nothing of consequence and sent the data to him in an encrypted file. Now it was time to have a little fun.

  I reached into my pocket and found the found number for that hot girl from the club, Natalie Jacobs. I put her number into the specialized hacking program I had designed and patented, and instantly, I had access to everything in her cell phone: text messages, photos, missed calls. Everything.

  The text messages were pretty standard girlie stuff. Lots of back and forth with her mother and some girl named Jennifer. Very little conversation with some guy named Victor who obviously had a hard-on for her. He texted her at least a dozen times per every one time she texted him back; usually with the phrase Stop texting me! It’s over between us!

  There weren’t any text messages from her work and since she said she was an errand girl, I had expected to see a lot of one sided conversations about picking up dry-cleaning, making a coffee run to Starbucks, and the like. Since there were none, I figured she had a separate cell for work that she wisely left at home for a night of partying. I couldn’t say I blamed her, and it backed up my theory that she was a people pleaser who couldn’t say no if someone asked her to do something, so her only option was to not hear the request.

  It was when I got to her photos that things finally got interesting. There were pictures of kids on horseback, selfies of her in Central Park, groups of unknown people around birthday cakes, and finally the ones that got my attention and held it. She’d taken a vacation to some kind of beach resort; my guess from the background scenery would be Mexico. There were plenty of pictures of Aztec temples, tropical plants, and colorful parrots, but at the end was an incredible shot of her in a green bikini that matched her emerald eyes to perfection.

  Her luscious tits poured out of the tiny top, barely contained by the tiny triangle of fabric that masked her nipples. They needn’t have bothered; however, for the round protruding nubs were perfectly visible, puckered by the cool water or a blowing breeze.

  She had a tiny waist, full round hips, and legs that were supple and muscular. She must have gotten a Brazilian wax because no stubble marred her perfectly smooth tan flesh, despite the miniscule thong that served as the bottom half of her bikini.

  The smile on her face was dazzling, and her eyes were sparkling with merriment. It was clear that this poor pent-up girl who was uncomfortable with slutty dresses, felt dumped by her boyfriend, and hated her job hadn’t always been so miserable. There was a part of her who knew how to cut loose and really enjoy the pleasures life had to offer. She’d forgotten as life had beaten her down, and she just needed someone to remind her how. Luckily for her, I was willing to do just that.

  My brief hack job on her cell had assured me that she was safe to call and I dialed her number quickly, hoping she was still awake.

  “Hello?” she sounded breathless when she finally picked up the phone.

  “It’s Dante,” I said and heard her draw in her breath in excitement. It was a good boost to my ego and I couldn’t help but puff up my chest. Grinning to myself, I said, �
�So, my work didn’t take as long as I feared. Are you still up for coming over to my place? I’ll pour us some drinks and we can finish that conversation.”

  “Sounds great,” she said and I gave her my address. As I waited for her to arrive, I felt a strange stirring deep inside. More than lust or even affection: I was intrigued by her, which was a quality I found irresistible and hard to find.

  Chapter Three: Natalie

  I arrived at his building at a quarter after midnight, hoping it didn’t seem too desperate that I was willing to meet up with a stranger at this hour of the night. Then again, maybe that was the perfect image to give off. One night stands and booty calls were Dante’s trademark, and if I didn’t want him to suspect my real motives, I needed to fit that criteria perfectly.

  His address was a very fine building in upper Manhattan. Alyssa dropped me off out front with a knowing grin and said teasingly, “Good luck and have fun.”

  “Shut up!” I mockingly gave her the finger and got out of the car. The security guards in the lobby called up to Dante’s condo. He must have authorized me as a guest, for they opened the elevator for me and directed me to take it to the top floor.

  “Which apartment number?” I asked them, and the guards chuckled.

  “The entire top floor belongs to Mr. Devereaux, miss,” One of them informed me, and I felt myself blush. When the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened, I found Dante waiting for me, looking even more handsome in the light of his doorway than he had in the dimly lit bar.

  He’d stripped off his suit jacket and tie and had opened the first two buttons of his designer shirt, revealing just a hint of chest hair. He still had on his slacks, but had removed his shoes and looked comfortable and casual in just his black socks.

  “Please take off your shoes. I just had new carpets put in and I’d like to keep them as nice as possible,” Dante said. I pulled off my borrowed Jimmy Choo’s and set them next to his in the front hallway. No sooner were they off, then he pulled me into his arms and kissed me, deep and hard, like he’d been counting the seconds until he could do that ever since we’d left each other. The power of his kiss took my breath away and I felt myself melting into his embrace. He pushed me back against the wall, bracing me up with it as his strong hands slid over my body. I could feel the heat of his flesh even through the thin fabric of my dress and longed for him to strip it off of me.

  Suddenly, I came to my senses and remembered why I was here. It wasn’t to have hot sex with this stranger, although God knows it had been long enough since I’d gotten laid; no, it was to get the proof I needed to write my news story and become a respected reporter.

  Holding up my hands, I pushed him gently away. Gasping for air, I said breathlessly, “Slow down. Let me see your place first.”

  Dante stepped back respectfully and nodded. “Yellow light; got it.”

  “What?” I asked, surprised by the strange reference.

  “Yellow light. It means slow down. Red light means stop. When I’m with a woman, those are the code words I teach her to use to ensure she’s always comfortable and enjoying herself. They’re called safe words.”

  “Is that part of what you were saying in the bar about how men need to protect and cherish a woman?”

  “Absolutely. Look at us, for example. I’m much bigger than you and much stronger. You’ve come to my apartment completely alone in the middle of the night. You don’t know me or what kind of man I am. If I wanted to hurt you, there’s no one that could really stop me.” He pressed his huge muscular body against mine, pinning me to the wall so I couldn’t run or even kick against him. He ran his hands up my body, squeezing my breasts and then squeezing my throat. My heart was pounding in my chest as I realized how right he was. Then, he stepped back, giving me plenty of space to move and breathe and smiled at me lightly, saying, “You’ve given me control by agreeing to come here and honor me with your company. It’s my responsibility to respect and cherish you, to make sure you always feel comfortable and safe, and that your visit here with me is as pleasurable as possible. Now I’m not a mind reader, so I have to depend on you to guide me. When things are too intense, all you have to do is say yellow light, and I’ll know to back off or slow down. When you want things to stop all together, all you have to do is say red light and you can walk right out of here and I’ll never bother you again.”

  “Does it really work that way?” I asked, intrigued by the idea. “We could be making out hot and heavy, about to have sex and all I have to say is red light and you’d just stop right in the middle of everything?”

  “Absolutely. It’s called a power exchange. It seems like I have all the power because I’m bigger, stronger, and you’re in my condo; but in reality, you have all the power over me. When you tell me to slow down or stop, then I will.”

  “Interesting.” I pondered the idea and was surprised by how erotic it seemed. There was something extremely sensual about Dante as he described the philosophy to me and I wished I was here for fun and nothing more. Still, business was my priority and so I forced myself to focus. I needed him to show me where he kept his computer and work files without allowing him to suspect that’s what I was after. A condo that took up the entire top floor of a building this size would be a huge labyrinth of rooms and there was no way I could find it on my own. It would be best if he bought into the notion I was here for a one night stand. Smiling at him provocatively, I let my fingers trail up his chest and said, “In that case, I’d like a tour of your apartment, ending in the bedroom.”

  “Certainly. Follow me,” Dante said gallantly and led the way from his front entrance hall into the living room of his lavish condo. Panorama windows gave the room an impressive view of the NYC skyline, and I couldn’t help but gasp at the sight. His décor was very masculine, with leather sofas glass tabletops, hardwood cabinets, and a state-of-the-art entertainment system. With the touch of a button, he activated the stereo system, which played through hidden speakers in the ceilings in crystal clear surround sound.

  His kitchen was equally impressive, with all the latest gadgetry all in stainless steel, and his dining room could easily seat a dozen people. Sensual art hung on all the walls with abstract images of beautiful naked bodies – or perhaps they were flowers and my mind was simply in the gutter.

  Down the hall, we came to his personal gym. The serious amount of Nautilus equipment made it clear how he maintained such an incredible body. Judging by the biceps bulging from his rolled-up shirt sleeves, he must spend several hours a day in there.

  “What’s in there?” I asked as he nonchalantly passed by a door with an electronic lock and keypad on the outside.

  “That’s my office,” he said and kept walking down the hall, but I stayed at the door.

  Smiling flirtatiously and arching my back to thrust out my tits, I said, “So this is the place that lured you away from me at the club. Can I see it?”

  “Women are always worried about the competition,” Dimitri grinned humorously. “I’m sorry to tell you that my work is my permanent mistress.”

  He punched his security code into the keypad and opened the door. A large desk filled the room with no less than four computers on it. A printer was pouring out pages and he rushed across the room to see what it was. As he scanned the incoming documents, I silently took in everything I could about the room. There were no visible security cameras, which was good; but the filing cabinets and desk drawers were locked, which was bad.

  Dante picked up the sheets of paper coming off the printer and tossed them into the shredder. So much for my chance of seeing what they said.

  “Bad news?” I asked, hoping to coax some information from him, but he was too stone faced.

  “Just junk mail. Now, follow me down this hallway and I’ll show you something I think you’ll really like.”

  “Where do you keep the keys to all this stuff?” I asked, trying to seem flirty and silly as I sat on his desk and caressed my breasts.

  “Nowhere.
Now come with me to the next room.”

  “Nowhere? Now I don’t believe that,” I teased, spreading my legs wide around the edge of the desk. I saw a noticeable bulge in Dante’s slacks and knew my seduction was working.

  He crossed the room over to me and stood between my spread thighs. He reached out with one of his hands and tenderly caressed by cheek before grabbing me by the hair and forcing my face back so he could kiss my lips. The urgency of his lips forced mine apart and our tongues collided. A moan of pleasure escaped my throat and I lost myself in the passion of his embrace.

  He kissed his way down my long neck until he came to my cleavage. Then he lifted me into his strong arms and carried me from the room while he kissed the curves of exposed cleavage. He kicked the office door shut behind him as we left and I heard the lock beep as the door was permanently shut off to me. My mission to get information from his office had temporarily failed, unless I could get him to fall asleep and then I could take another crack at it. In the meanwhile, there was nothing left for me to do but enjoy myself. It had been such a long time since I’d had sex, and his lips felt so good on my body. I decided to give myself up to the pleasures he was giving me and allow myself to have this night of passion.

  He carried me down the hall to his bedroom suite and laid me down in the center of his massive king-sized bed.

  “Take off your dress,” he commanded so simply and firmly, it never occurred to me not to follow his demand. Smiling brightly, I pulled the short, tight dress over my head and tossed it onto the floor, while Dante stripped off his tailored slacks and designer shirt. Dressed in only a thong, I lay back onto the bed and slid my hands seductively over my body. Dante took me in with his gaze, and I could tell from the fire burning in his penetrating blue eyes that he liked what he saw.