The Boss Me Series: Complete Billionaire Boxed Set Romance Books (1-3): (A Billioniare Steamy Romance Series)

by Brooke Kinsley

  "Thanks, buddy!"

  I slap his back and it feels like hitting a solid, brick wall. Then I teeter inside in my heels, the doorman keeping his eye on me as I walk down the narrow, dark corridor. The deeper I walk into the building, the hotter it gets. There's the smell of luxurious perfume in the air, the tang of liquor, and something sweet and sensual I can't identify.

  The music's getting louder, repetitive, trance-inducing beats that beckon me forward until my fingers are pushing through red velvet curtains and I'm suddenly thrust forward into the sparkling splendor of the VIP room. A stage is shining brightly in front of me with three poles lined across the stage. Girls slink down them, perform feats of unimaginable athleticism. I gawp and stare at their perfect muscular bodies. How are they even doing that?

  I'm so busy staring at the girl nearest to me, her long, blonde hair framing her ethereal Slavic features that I don't notice the group of suited men piling in behind me.

  "Excuse me?" one of them says but I don't realize he's talking to me. "Excuse me!" he says again, this time a little angrier.

  Looking over my shoulder, I see a boy about my age, dazzling blue eyes, and blonde hair flopped over his forehead.

  "Sorry," I mumble and step to the side.

  "You work here?" he asks as he sidles past.

  "No!" I scoff. "As if..."

  He looks me up and down, his eyes lingering on the curve of my hips. Then they move up to my cleavage where two skull tattoos reside on either side. He glances over to his friends who have grouped around a table.

  "Fancy a drink?" he asks.

  "Sure," I nod. "Why not?"

  A moment later I'm sat at the table like one of the boys. A glamorous waitress saunters over with a tray of champagne.

  "Here you go, fellas," she says in a broad European accent I can't distinguish.

  The blonde boy hands over a wad of twenties and she disappears.

  "Don't' tell me a girl like you's here all alone?" he asks.

  All I can do is nod.

  "I'm having a crap day."

  "Oh yeah? Have a row with your man?"

  I sigh.

  "Kinda..."

  "I like your accent," he blurts out as he blushes.

  "Thanks. I'm Stephanie by the way."

  "Ben," he says as he formally extends his hand for me to shake. "We're here on a stag do from up north."

  "Oh, cool. Which one of you is getting married?" I ask.

  "Me," he smiles cockily. "But there's nothing wrong with one last night of freedom, right?"

  He drains his champagne glass in one go and slams it down on the table before pouring himself another. Then he turns his attention to the girl on the nearest pole. She's hanging upside by one leg in an act of bravery I can only assume has been brought to fruition through copious amounts of cocaine or a neurological predisposition to fearlessness.

  "Ever fancy yourself as a dancer?" Ben asks as he notices me watching the girl.

  "Never," I shake my head.

  "Well, have you ever fancied getting a lapdance?" he asks.

  "Erm..."

  "Come on. It's on me."

  He waves at the girl on the stage but she ignores him. He then waves a handful of money at her and she finally climbs down.

  "Lap dance for the lady," he points at me.

  "I'm not sure about this," I say as I lean back in my seat.

  The girl is edging closer, her smile wide and stunning as she tucks her golden hair behind her ears.

  "You like girls?" she asks.

  "Erm. I er... I don’t know," I stutter.

  "Calm down, sweetheart," she says as she slides her hands into mine, pinning my arms up behind me so they're resting along the back of the chair. "I love girls."

  Chapter Three

  The girl's the one performing but everyone's staring at me, looking at the way she grinds herself against my groin and how I bite down on my lip to stifle a sigh as she brushes her nipples across my face.

  "She's loving' it!" I hear Ben say to his friends.

  Meanwhile, the dancer's gyrating her hips and hooking her fingers into the straps of her tiny top. It's then that it dawns on me. I've never seen a naked woman before. I mean, sure, I saw my mom in the tub as a kid, I've seen porn on the internet, caught a glimpse of a girl in the locker room but I've never on purpose been close to a naked girl, especially not one as gorgeous as this one. She wraps her perfectly manicured hands around her pert silicone implants and pouts.

  "You having fun, honey?"

  "Yeah..." I breathe. "You're beautiful."

  She smiles and bends over so her ass is only a few inches from my face. I can smell her perfume and her sex, can see the wet patch in the center of her skimpy g-string. There's a wetness between my legs too and it grows the more I watch her. Never in my life have I considered being with a girl but now I suddenly feel as though I want to reach out and touch her, kiss her, lick her and pull those panties off her toned buttocks.

  Looking over her shoulder, she starts to pull them down. They pop over her ass as she reveals her plump pussy lips. They're wet and shining from the light of the chandelier above. Looking over to the guys, I see they're all watching with eyes like saucers. Ben's eyes meet mine and he smiles. Looking down, I see that he has an erection, one I'd love to get my hands on.

  At last, the girl kisses me on the cheek and whispers.

  "Sorry, honey. That's your time up."

  She dresses in seconds and before I know it, she's walking over to another group of guys where no doubt she'll repeat the process, say all the right things and pretend her customer's the center of her universe for the next three minutes.

  "You liked that?" Ben asks.

  "Fuck yeah," I laugh and gulp down a mouthful of champagne.

  "She was so fucking hot," he says. "Not as hot as you, though, obviously."

  "Ah shut up. She was way hotter than me and I know it."

  He thinks for a moment and says:

  "Nah, I like my girls with more character," he nods at my tattoos.

  "Got a penchant for the alternative type?" I ask.

  "Maybe," he smiles and glances away.

  "Does your future bride have any tattoos?" I ask.

  He shakes his head and looks down to pull something out his pocket.

  "Nah," he says. "She's a real good lass, went to Cambridge and everything. Always has her head in a book and thinks places like this are for scumbags."

  "Scumbags like us, I suppose," I chuckle.

  "Yeah..."

  He pulls out a lighter and a pack of cigarettes and points them at the fire escape.

  "Care to join me?"

  "Sure," I say. "I could do with a smoke."

  I'm expecting the alarm to sound when he pushes the door open but to my surprise, there's just silence.

  "You look like you've done this before," I say.

  He grins sheepishly as he lights two cigarettes and hands me one.

  "I might have been here before," he says.

  "One of your favorite haunts?" I ask.

  "Sure. Whenever I'm in London."

  He breathes gray smoke out into the chilled night. The summer is officially over and a light dusting of drizzle is covering the cars on the street below us. I shiver and regret wearing such a cold dress but at least the alcohol has numbed me for now. Looking down through the metal slats, I shift from foot to foot, my heels clanging on the steel grates.

  "So... You're really out in London all alone?"

  "Yeah," I sigh. "I was supposed to be in class today but... things went kind of weird."

  "Boyfriend trouble?"

  "Lack of boyfriend trouble," I correct him.

  "You're joking!" he gasps. "Don't tell me a girl like you is single!"

  I pinch the bridge of my nose and let out a long exhale.

  "I thought I'd found someone but it turns out he's married with a baby on the way."

  "Ouch!" Ben grimaces. "What a dick!"

  "Such a dick,"
I agree. "That was why I came here. Just wanted to forget about him, have some fun on my own."

  He takes a step forward and places his hand on my hip.

  "I can show you some fun."

  "You're getting married," I say and push his hand away.

  "So?" he shrugs. "It's my last night of freedom."

  "So you said."

  He stares me up and down, his eyes scanning every part of me. Would it be so bad to enjoy myself? He takes another step forward and tries again, this time slinking his arm around my waist.

  "It wouldn't have to mean anything," he assures me, leaning into my neck so his hot breath is on my skin.

  It sends a shockwave of tingles up to my scalp. Despite me knowing I should push him away and leave, I’m hearing up, my pussy beginning to throb at the idea of being fucked out here in the cold.

  He's moving closer, his hands wandering over my curves as he presses me up against the door.

  "What do you say?" he whispers.

  His erection is sticking into my stomach, long and hard. I could have it inside me in seconds, could forget all about Frederick as I fuck the feeling of betrayal away. Reaching out a hand, I grab him firmly but gently. He lets out a grunt and leans in closer.

  "Fuck, you're so hot," he says as his cock throbs through his pants.

  Our lips are close, so close that I can smell the champagne on his breath. I move to kiss him, holding him tighter so that he closes his eyes and shudders slightly in anticipation. The insides of my thighs are damp, my panties soaked through.

  But then I look into his face and think about the sweet, innocent Cambridge girl who's promised her life to him.

  "Sorry, I say," and take a step back to open the door. "I can't do this."

  Infuriated, he looks down at his bulging penis and throws his hands up.

  "What? Are you serious?"

  "I can't do it," I say and step inside.

  "You think that's funny, eh?" he says as he watches me leave. "You're a tease!"

  I don't look back. I just carry on walking until I push past his friends and through the velvet curtain until I'm hurrying down the long, mysterious corridor and out in the street.

  "Enjoy yourself?" the doorman asks when he sees me.

  "Sure, had a blast," I say and hurry back to the car.

  Back in the driver's seat, I clutch the steering wheel with trembling hands and take a deep breath.

  "Fuck..." I say to myself and pull on my seatbelt.

  Chapter Four

  As soon as I enter the campus I feel guilty for missing class. Gibson would have been expecting me. After his initial wariness, he'd taken a liking to me, seems to think I’m one of the bright ones. And here I am, skipping class already.

  Pulling up outside Foxley, I feel ridiculous climbing out in my skimpy dress that this morning looked so awesome and now looks trashy as hell. Pulling it down my thighs, I try to cover myself up as a group of girls walk by. They look me up and down with disgust before sneering at the car.

  "I hear she's fucking that billionaire Milton," one of them says thinking she's out of earshot.

  "I can hear you!" I shout after her.

  She glances over her shoulder and looks momentarily embarrassed, but then bursts out laughing and walks away.

  "Jealous bitch," I mumble under my breath.

  Looking up to the top floor, it looks as though there are dozens of people packed into the apartment and from the music I can hear, it sounds like Alex and Morgana are throwing a party. I'd love to go up and hang out as though nothing had happened but I can't, not just yet, not looking like this. They'll ask questions, wonder where I've been. I'm on the cusp of getting back in the car when a guy walks out the building, laptop slung over his shoulder and a pile of books under one hand.

  "Heading to the library?" I ask.

  He looks up surprised and swallows.

  "Yeah," he says with his voice soft and shy.

  "You live in Foxley, right?"

  He nods.

  "Any chance I could borrow your jacket?"

  He stares at me.

  "I know, it sounds really weird but it's kind of an emergency. I can drop it back to you in a few hours."

  He shifts from foot to foot for a moment before saying:

  "Sure... I live on the third floor. Promise you'll drop it back. My mum bought me it for my birthday."

  "Aw, yeah I promise. Seriously, I wouldn't ask if I wasn't desperate."

  He takes his keys out his pocket and throws it over to me.

  "Thanks, buddy. I owe you one."

  I pull it on and watch him walk away. Checking my reflection in the car window, I feel only slightly less ridiculous than I did a minute ago but at least I'm covered up. Grabbing a pack of smokes from the glove compartment, I walk away across the main field that runs the length of the campus. I'm assuming it was built to be like a public park with oak trees and ferns where students could sit beneath the long leaves and discuss Sartre. Except now it's littered with cans and cigarette ends. As I walk past a tree, I see a pair of boys' boxer shorts hanging from a tree branch. It billows in the breeze like a flag and I have to step around it so it doesn't hit me in the face.

  Emerging out the other side, I see the long staircase that leads up to the math department. With nothing else to do I sit halfway up and light a cigarette, shivering into the boy's coat that smells so much like a teenager's cheap deodorant. The poor boy, I think. I should have at least asked him his name. He probably thinks I’ve just robbed him.

  I take my first long drag of the cigarette and for a moment I wonder if this should be my last. I always keep meaning to quit but life without cigarettes, it's almost as bad as a life without sex. I'm so busy thinking about tossing the cigarette down the steps along with the rest of the pack that for a second, I don't register the booming noise that's coming from behind me. At first, I think it's a car alarm, then I realize it's coming from inside the building. I turn around and see the flashing light of the security alarm.

  Shadows fall across the front door and there's a flurry of movement, the sound of hushed voices and the noise of leaves being crunched underfoot.

  "What the fuck?" I say as I jump up.

  The shadows disappear into the bushes. A few seconds later, campus security arrives with torches.

  "What's going on?" the tall one shouts up to me.

  "I have no idea! I saw some folk run that way!" I point into the bushes.

  "Right," he says to his colleague. "You stay here. I'm going that way."

  He runs off in pursuit of the shadows while a small, portly woman huffs and puffs as she climbs the stairs. It takes so long for her to walk I'm considering going down to help her.

  "Urgh... My knees," she moans. "Arthritis, bloody arthritis."

  At last, when I feel as though I'm on the brink of going deaf, she enters the building and switches off the alarm. Silence descends on us and so does the sound of footsteps hurrying up the stairs. It's Gibson.

  "Stephanie?" he gasps.

  He looks at the jacket then at my heels and gives me a quizzical expression.

  "Steph?" someone else says.

  Looking behind Gibson, I see the crisp shirt and the slicked back hair. There's the smell of that exquisite cologne and the sound of that smooth voice.

  "Stephanie? I was hoping to see you in class today," Frederick gasps as he reaches the top step.

  I can't bring myself to speak to him, let alone look up from the floor and see his face. Luckily for me, he's too preoccupied with the alarm going off to ask me any more questions.

  "What happened here?" he asks the security woman.

  She shrugs.

  "Looks like someone broke in."

  She points to the door where the lock looks as though it's been jimmied off with a crowbar.

  "Jesus Christ," Gibson says. "Who would do that?"

  "My colleague is chasing after them right now," she replies. "Let's go see where they could have headed."

 
"It's a big building," I say. "They could have gone anywhere."

  "It's probably another prank," Gibson sighs. "Freshers..." he shakes his head.

  Frederick furrows his brows and scratches at his stubble in thought. Then his eyes widen and he jolts back.

  "Shit, the cash in the poker safe!"

  Chapter Five

  Gibson is in the hall, shouting down the phone to the police while panicking. Frederick and I are staring into the empty safe.

  "How the hell did they open this thing?" I think out loud.

  "Looks as though they blew the hinges apart," he points to the scorched metal.

  "So it wasn't a student then? I mean, that seems pretty professional to me."

  "Who knows," he shrugs. "It's pretty crazy stuff. I mean it's not the money I'm worried about, it's just that… it was supposed to be for the students, you know. It was meant to be a motivation for you guys."

  I sit down at a desk and pull the coat around me tighter, shivering as my bare legs stick to the plastic seat.

  "You don't reckon it's an inside job, do you?" I ask.

  "I have no idea," he shakes his head and sits opposite me.

  For the most fleeting of seconds, I forget that I'm angry with him. Outside, we can still hear Gibson giving his details to the cops who, by the sounds of it, are asking him a myriad of trivial questions. Frederick is looking at my clothes, wondering why I'm dressed the way I am.

  "Had a busy day?" he asks.

  It's a loaded question.

  "Yeah..." I sigh as I stare into the safe.

  Twenty grand, I think. That money was going to go to my mother.

  "I waited for you this morning," he says.

  "Oh yeah?" I reply.

  "I thought you were coming to see me."

  He slides his hands across the table to reach mine but I keep them firmly thrust into my pockets.

  "I met your wife," I say while averting his gaze.

  Silence. His mouth drops open slightly then closes again. He gasps in a lungful of breath, moves to speak then changes his mind as he fails to find the right thing to say.

  "Thought you were going to keep her a secret from me?"

  "I... I... You mean... Penelope?" he stutters.