The Billionaire and the Best Friend Boxed Set

by Nikki Steele

  “Call me Tiff.” I picked a riding crop off the wall and ran it lightly over the saddle beside it. Edward’s eyes followed the motion.

  “So do you actually use this stuff?”

  Edward blinked. “What?”

  “The whips.”

  He resumed coiling rope slowly. “Not on the horses.”

  I slapped it against my jeans. “It doesn’t look like it would hurt.”

  The rope paused again. “It can. Against bare flesh.”

  I tested it again, harder. “You know I’ve never really tried that stuff before—whips and the like. Would… would you take it slow?”

  A strangled sound issued from Edward’s throat, and I looked up to find him crossing the space quickly toward me, eyes smoldering. He pinned me against the wall. “Fuck the paperwork. We can do that later.” Then he kissed me hard, savagely.

  I stood there like a startled deer, gaping for several seconds. Was this actually happening? Had I decided it was what I wanted? Then my brain turned to smoosh under the onslaught of his body, and I began to kiss him back. Screw what I did or didn’t do. It was time to stop thinking. I relaxed into the wall of the stable, the timber rough against my back, and my hands moved to his body.

  His hands moved to my hair, tugging my head back. Exquisite tingles shivered down to the base of my neck, and I groaned. “I haven’t signed the contract.”

  He shook his head, lips moving down to my neck. “You will. I’ll make sure of it.”

  My hands were on his back, enjoying the firm muscles I could feel under his expensive cotton shirt. “And how will you make sure of that?”

  He looked up at me and smiled. Then his fingers slid under my top and pulled it slowly up my body. “Because I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll do anything I say,” he growled. “You’re going to want me so bad you’ll do anything I want.”

  My eyebrows arched. “Really? Those are fighting words.” I lifted my arms, the top pulling up over my head as I arched my back. It slid to the floor as I stood in jeans and bra against the timber of the stall; leather and rope on all sides.

  Edward reached up to pull a short length of cord from the wall. “The first thing I’m going to teach you is to not talk back,” he said. He began to loop the rope around one of my wrists.

  “Edward. What are you doing?” He was acting so different to the normal Edward. It was frightening… but also arousing. His words came back to me. ‘I’m not a gentleman in the bedroom’

  He pulled it tight, then used it to lever my arm above my head and tie it off against a peg. He moved to my side, pulling another length of rope from the wall. “This will be your first lesson, and it goes like this. Submit to me, and you will be rewarded.” He twisted the rope into a loop, but didn’t place it on my wrist.

  I hesitated. If I put my arm through that loop, I’d be helpless. Tied up against the wall, he’d be able to do anything he wanted to me. “I’ve never done anything like this before.”

  “I know,” he said. “That’s what intrigues me about you.”

  I thought again about that kiss. And how anything he wanted might not be that bad a thing. And then, before I had a chance to change my mind, I thrust my free hand through his loop. He smiled in satisfaction, and then tied that arm off against a peg above my head, too.

  I was helpless, and it was frightening and sexy all at the same time—putting my trust in a man I barely knew as he trussed me and told me he was going to have his way. I tested my bonds—they were tight, but not uncomfortable.

  He saw me pull briefly at the rope and stepped back to survey his handiwork. His hand went to his shirt and began to unbutton it slowly. It fell open to reveal a smooth, hairless chest and flat, defined stomach. Below his belt, I could see a hard bulge had formed.

  “You have me at your mercy,” I whispered, marveling at the audacity in my voice. “What will you do with me?”

  He walked forward, reaching down to pick up the riding crop I had dropped earlier. He began to run it gently over my body. “Now I teach you,” he said, starting the cool leather at my hips and moving it slowly up my flesh. It tickled where it touched the skin, a delectable sensation that raised goosebumps in a trail that followed its progress ever upward. I closed my eyes, enjoying the sensation.

  Suddenly the crop cracked across my skin sharply. Not enough to hurt; enough just to sting briefly. My eyes opened in surprise.

  “That’s better,” he said. “I want you watching everything I do. Close your eyes again and I’ll be forced to punish you.”

  My eyes widened, and then I closed them deliberately with a small smile. The light slap that followed sent shivers up my spine. “Maybe I like being slapped,” I said, opening my eyes once again.

  Edward grinned. “You’re cheeky. I like that too.” His hands moved behind my back, and suddenly my bra loosened with a click. His fingers traced a line from my back to my breasts, hooking the material to pull it forward so that the bra slid up to my shoulders, attached only by the shoulder straps.

  He stepped back, the riding crop again on my skin. It slid to my breasts, and my eyes enlarged. Slapping me here would do more than tingle. My eyes stayed very open indeed.

  He smirked when he saw my face. “Good girl. And now for your reward.” His head bent, mouth moving to a nipple.

  I breathed out as I felt the warm moistness of his lips around me, suckling. Then his hands were there as well; his soft skin brushing mine, lifting it to feed his mouth. He moved to the other breast, sucking sharper on that; nips of pain covered quickly with sweet kisses.

  I’d never experienced pain in this manner—short little bursts that sent spikes of adrenaline through me, followed by gentle licks and the softest of touches. I began to breathe harder, pulling on the ropes, wishing that my hands were free so they could venture under my jeans and feel the warmth that was building there.

  His mouth lifted to kiss me hard between breaths. Then, as if he could read my mind, his hands slid down my stomach and undid the top button of my jeans. I groaned as I felt his fingers slip under the denim, discovering my arousal. His touch sent a tiny thrill through me, making my heart beat faster. I wanted him to pull the jeans off. To touch me properly.

  Button by button I felt the fly undo—agonizingly slowly, deliciously erotic. My back arched, urging him with my body to hurry. He ignored it, taking his time to explore the area, sliding his fingers back inside to run in a line up and down wet cotton; a thrill that climbed with each circuit of his hand.

  “The jeans. Take them off,” I groaned.

  He looked at me. “What’s the magic word.”

  “Please.”

  “Please sir.”

  I didn’t care what the hell he wanted me to call him. I’d happily pronounce him President if he asked when his fingers brushed just… there. “Ooh. Please sir.”

  He smiled that mysterious smile of his again. “Good girl.” Then he gripped the sides of my jeans and tugged them hard, down my legs. They slid to my feet, but not off them, pulling my underwear down too. I stood exposed with him now kneeling before me; tied at the wrists with rope and at the ankles with denim, and another surge of adrenaline shot through my body. “What would you like me to do to you?” he asked.

  My eyes looked to his hand, the one that had been in my denim earlier. The corner of his lips upturned, then he licked a finger, slowly. “This?”

  I nodded, breath held, as he moved toward me. His hands hovered briefly, enjoying the look in my eyes, and then one was pressing me gently open and the other, the one with the finger that he had licked, was running once again up me in the lightest of touches. I gasped, eyes rolling back as a shiver ran through me. He’d already worked me so tight I felt I must surely explode. His fingers became firmer, circling me.

  I strained again at my bonds. I wanted to grab his hair; I wanted to run my nails down his back. I wanted to clutch him and rip off all his clothes. I wanted to do so many things and I couldn’t. It was delicious. Electrifyin
g.

  His head moved forward, kissing the skin of my upper thighs. And then his fingers pulled back and, still holding me open with his other hand, his head took their place. Oh. My. Goodness.

  My hips lifted off the wall, pressing into him. I closed my eyes, delighting in the sensation.

  Then there was a sharp crack, and suddenly pain was blossoming across my buttocks. My eyes flew open and I looked down to discover Edward holding the riding crop once more. He was looking up at me with a grin. “I told you. No closing your eyes until I say you can.”

  I nodded, half afraid, half aroused.

  “You like that, don’t you.” He didn’t wait for an answer, giving me another hard slap. His head lowered once more. Pleasure spiked through me as his tongue began to flick. I could feel the riding crop against my skin. It lifted and I tensed, but returned with just the barest of gentle taps. I couldn’t take much more of this—my heart was flying at a million miles an hour, adrenaline fueling my pleasure as my center became warmer and warmer under Edward’s ministrations. I began to groan, fighting to keep my eyes open.

  I felt his tongue enter me, just the littlest way inside, and abruptly all I wanted in the whole wide world was to feel him in there. My eyes fluttered shut and I tensed. But the riding crop never came. Instead I heard it drop to the ground, and then his tongue and hands were touching me at the same time.

  A finger hovered at my entrance, then slid slowly inside. A cry escaped my lips, and my knees buckled. I continued to moan, louder and louder, hanging by the rope that tied me to the wall of the stable. A second finger joined the first. They began to thrust, moving to the beat of his tongue.

  “Edward!” I was breathing faster and faster between cries, building up to release. “Oh. My. God-”

  Warmth exploded within me, filling my body with a fiery heat that sent me tumbling over the edge, my body writhing on the wall. The convulsions seemed to go on forever.

  * * *

  I realized that Edward was standing before me, smiling. His arms were crossed. “Did you like that?”

  I nodded weakly.

  “Good.” He reached up and undid my ropes gently, pulling me to him as he rubbed painful life back into my flesh.

  “That… was amazing.”

  He let me go, then stood back. “I know. Now get on your knees, we’re not done yet.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Cat that got the cream, or dirty alley cat?

  Posted by Miss Kitty [09:26]

  Look, you don’t know me and I don’t know you, and that’s probably a good thing. Trust me, the fantasy of Miss Kitty is much better than the real one actually is. But I need your advice.

  I slept with someone last night. It was rough, and dominating, and I won’t lie, just a little bit scary. He tied me up against a wall and then commanded me to get on my knees when he was done, and then he threw me into the hay (literally) and made love to me like a wild tiger. It was the first sex I’ve had in over a year, and I’m still sore from the spanking. Don’t get me wrong, it was great… but…

  Here’s thing—I’m wondering if I’ve gotten in over my head. Because he wants me to sign a Fifty Shades of Grey style contract, and it suddenly occurs to me there’s a difference between fantasy and real life.

  So you tell me dear readers. Should I do it? He says he won’t have sex with me unless I become a submissive. And if that’s what he was willing to do without a contract, what would he do with it?

  Signed - Scared Kitty.

  The responses started coming within minutes of the post.

  Umm WTF?

  Yes.

  Hels No

  Yes.

  Marry me.

  No.

  No, no, no

  I stared at the screen, hands in my hair. I would have laughed if I hadn’t felt like crying. At least with User69 I knew where I stood.

  * * *

  “He wants you to become a what?” Ryan had been lecturing me for the last 15 minutes. “Tiff, the man is a psycho! Who does that sort of stuff on the second date?”

  I shrugged, voice small. “I don’t know, I let him do it—it was all consensual. Can we not talk about this?”

  “You’re the one who posted it on your bloody blog.”

  “Yes, but that’s… anonymous, you know? It’s kind of different talking to your best friend in real life when he’s a guy.”

  Ryan sat down beside me. A hand went to my shoulder. “Tiff, I am your best friend.” He took a deep breath. “I won’t lie, it’s kind of uncomfortable reading stuff like that, but right now that’s beside the point. Something’s off about that guy. I don’t like it.”

  “Nonsense. He’s just alpha, and you’re not.”

  Ryan went quiet.

  I realized perhaps I’d overstepped my bounds. “I mean… um… you’re handsome and sexy and fun and intelligent and pretty much every woman’s dream, but… well, you know.”

  “I know very well,” Ryan said, standing up. “Nice guys always finish last.”

  “Not true.”

  “Tiff, he treated you literally like a piece of meat, and you slept with him. He ordered you home delivered, hung you up and then whipped you until you were tender.” He threw his hands up in the air. “And then he said you were a ‘good girl’ every time you obeyed a command??”

  I regretted telling Ryan that part now.

  “I’m telling you, something’s off. That’s not normal behavior—it’s straight out of Fifty Shades of Grey.”

  “So?” I asked. “The BDSM community is nothing to be afraid of, Ryan.”

  “I know. I read your blog post on it. But this… this isn’t the healthy community you were talking about. This… this is fucked up.”

  “So now you’re jealous I’ve met a real life Christian Grey, is that it?”

  Ryan shook his head. “Tiff, Christian Grey was only hot because he was a millionaire. If he’d done the same thing in a trailer park, Anastasia would have called the police. I don’t have a problem with BDSM. But I do have a problem with how Edward treated you.”

  Ryan was jealous. He was jealous that I was finally happy and it had nothing to do with him. I stood up. “So what, you can go around sleeping with girls, but I can’t do the same with guys?”

  Ryan shook his head. “Tiff, I don’t mean that at all. I-”

  I cut him off. He was trying to be reasonable, but his words had infuriated me. “You get your kicks from seeing me unhappy, is that it?”

  “Tiff, no—of course not-”

  “You want me for yourself then?” I said, tears in my eyes. “Your jealous little heart can’t think of anyone else having me?” I was being unreasonable. I was being stupid. I was saying things that I knew would have repercussions, but suddenly I couldn’t stop the words flowing out of my mouth. “Well let me tell you something buddy, I’ve finally found someone. I’m finally happy, and if you can’t be happy for me, then I guess you’re not the friend I thought you were.”

  “Tiff, please.”

  Ryan looked genuinely distressed, but I wasn’t thinking straight. The only emotion the horror on his face generated within me was pleasure. I walked to the door and opened it. “Talk to me on my blog,” I said viciously. “At least there, people can be honest.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  Thoughts on 50 Shades of Grey

  From the archives of Miss Kitty [more than 1 year ago]

  Ok, so if you were ever to ask me to my face I’d deny it, but it’s time to come clean. I loved reading 50 Shades of Grey.

  I couldn’t help it! I turned each page and my body responded. Yes it was pulpy. But it was also the cause of some of the hottest sex I’ve had yet with my boyfriend. That elevator scene—phew!

  But really—the book is fantasy, isn’t it? Even the BDSM community says that’s not what BDSM is really like; not the abuse, or the manipulation. Christian doesn’t wait for her to sign the contract before he starts dominating her, and he pressures her with ultimatums. I’m told that’s
decidedly against kink best practice.

  When I think about it, 50 Shades is Beauty and the Beast for the modern age: innocent girl falls for anti-social creature, changing him through the power of love into something better. It’s a fantasy, and a very delicious one, but I wonder what it would really play out like in real life?

  Miss Kitty.

  Ryan had certainly helped me make up my mind, but not in the way he’d hoped. I asked the limousine driver to stop at the main gates and let me walk the rest of the way to Edward’s mansion. I was still upset—I needed time to compose myself before seeing him.

  I’d been unfair on Ryan, I knew. But I was still furious. He was my best friend! He was supposed to support me, not make me feel like I’d gone and whored myself out like a piece of meat. I wasn’t opposed to casual sex, but I was opposed to people passing judgement on it. What could have gotten into him?

  Besides. This wasn’t casual sex. Edward and I had a real chance at being together, I could tell. It had been a great first date, and a fantastic second. And if letting him tie me up was the price it took to go on a third and fourth and fifth, wasn’t that worth it?

  I stopped where the path turned to the stables, thunder crackling in the sky overhead. It was threatening rain—it would break soon—but for now everything just looked muted; the vibrant red of the stables now the color of blood, the forest now a haunted wood.

  Was I really going to sign this contract? I’d told Ryan I would. And I was here. But if I was excited about what I was doing, why was I dragging my feet on the way to the front door? Why was I looking at the stable as if to jump atop the first horse I could find and ride away?

  I shook my head. If I jumped atop a horse, I’d just fall right off the other side.

  I resumed walking, straightening my pretty summer dress before I climbed the steps and pressed the doorbell. A butler answered, showing me inside without a word to wait in a foyer just off the front room.