The Billionaire Boss Collection

by Penny Ward

  I feel like I am worth something to him.

  I definitely have to meet this man…

  13

  Another gallery opening, another card.

  “Mr. White was here again tonight,” Marissa smiles at me as we clean up after the small exhibition. “He bought two of the show’s paintings. I processed them and he barely said a word to me. Did you speak to him?”

  “No,” I grin.

  “Then why are you grinning like the world’s luckiest girl?”

  “Because he left me another card.”

  “He left you another card! What?! Show me.”

  I hand the card to Marissa and it is exactly the same as the last one;

  ‘Same hotel. Same room. Tomorrow night. Nine o’clock.’

  “Oh my, that is sexy. He must be enjoying your little encounters as much as you are. You lucky girl.”

  I love these little encounters in the exhibition openings.

  It is a fleeting moment but it is special. These small encounters fill me with lust and desire.

  But it is time to start asking myself the hard questions about our encounters.

  Do I want more from him?

  Or am I just caught up in the desire and passion?

  There is no doubt I lust after his body. And lust is such a powerful feeling. The lust that I have experienced has gone beyond emotional now. I have a physical need to spend a night with him. My body craves his touch.

  I am almost addicted to him. I am almost addicted to that body.

  But every time I start to drift into the dream that is Mr. White, Joel jumps back into my mind. On one hand, I have the world’s most perfect body and on the other hand, the most perfect soul.

  What do I choose?

  I mean, it’s not like Joel and I have any sort of commitment together. I haven’t even met the man yet. He has avoided meeting me at every opportunity. If I had met him, then I feel things could be different but right now, I want to enjoy Mr. White’s body for the fun that it is.

  I might not even get to meet Joel. He might be playing me for a fool, and leading me on until he can disappear again. I would hate to throw an opportunity with Mr. White away when the chance to meet Joel may never happen.

  In truth, I know nothing about Mr. White. He could be anyone. He could have a criminal past. He could be a high-flying business man. Or he could be a drug dealer with mafia connections.

  I don’t know.

  All I do know is when he holds me in those strong arms, it doesn’t matter who he is. In that moment, he is mine. All mine.

  The only way I’ll know if Mr. White is any sort of boyfriend material is if I get to know him better. And to do that, I have to take a risk.

  “I’m going to ask him a personal question,” I mention to Marissa.

  Marissa sighs, “You are asking for trouble if you want anything more than sex.”

  “Maybe,” I shrug. “But I am going to find out for myself.”

  ****

  I enter the hotel armed with two questions in mind.

  If I get to know a little bit about Mr. White each time we meet, then I can build a picture of whether we should be more than just lovers.

  When he hands across a glass of the finest wine I have ever tasted, which has become our routine to start the night, I ask him the first query.

  “What do you do for a living, Mr. White? I know so little about you – it would be nice to know something small about the person that is… well, the person I am enjoying my time with.”

  He stares at me for a while before replying. “Becoming more confident Amber? That is good to see.”

  “More confident?” I question his response.

  “On your first night here, you could hardly say a word. You were clearly very, very nervous. And now you’re asking personal questions about me. That’s a big jump in confidence.”

  I shrug my shoulders.

  “But I like it…” Mr. White approaches me, drifts around my body and kisses my neck from behind.

  His heavy breathing sends shivers down my spine.

  Damn. The desire is too strong. I gain the courage to pull away and ask him to answer the question. I want to know a little piece about the man I am about to passionately embrace.

  “Wait…” I stop him. “I want you to answer the question. You and I share more intimate moments than I have ever had in my life. I would like to know something about you.”

  Mr. White looks to the floor as I move to the other side of the room.

  “We won’t have sex until you do,” I state firmly.

  I don’t know why I said that. That was an absurd thing to say. I want to have passionate sex with him. I want his body. I want him naked. And I want that more than I want him to answer the questions.

  Thankfully, he responds.

  “You don’t want to know what I do for a living. It’s really not that interesting.”

  “Really?”

  “Really. It’s not interesting at all.”

  He is avoiding the question. That’s ok, but I need him to tell me something.

  “Don’t worry about that question then. Tell me what gets you excited.”

  “You.”

  “Something other than what happens in here.”

  He comes back closer to me, and I turn my back on him in defense. But his sensual lips touch my neck and his strong hands hold my hips.

  Oh. That feels amazing.

  “Answer the question…” I try to resist.

  But the kisses feel so good. I want him to answer the questions. But his tender lips continue to dance on my skin and I can’t resist. Damn. He has distracted me with his sexiness.

  “You are beautiful,” he states in his deep voice.

  No. I must resist it.

  “You are so sexy. So heavenly.”

  No…

  “You are mine.”

  Damn. I am his. I can’t resist it. I can’t say no to him. I turn around and look up to him. His eyes are so beautiful, so damn deep, and I am already wet with anticipation. Despite being lost in his gorgeous eyes, I notice his hand start to slowly creep down my body, until it stops on my bottom. His strong hand runs over the flesh of my behind with a smooth and tender touch. It feels so nice, and my heart is racing. As I press into him hard, I can feel the bulge in his trousers. My breathing quickens.

  He leans forward. His lips kiss mine.

  Yes…

  The tender kiss sends me into overdrive. His strong hand reaches up and caresses the side of my face. Wow. I want to stop him. I want him to answer the question. I want to know more about him. But I can’t. I can’t resist it.

  I am lost in his kisses, lost in the way he holds me. I’m not even sure I can speak anymore. His hand sneaks its way to the inside top of my thigh, next to my passion. I am so tender, so sensitive, that the touch rushes emotion through my entire body.

  I need more…

  In the passion, I begin to undress him, throwing the jacket off his shoulders. He returns the favor by pulling off the jacket from my body. Quickly, the turns into a whirlwind of passion and desire, our hands running all over each other’s bodies. Mr. White only stops kissing me to rip off his clothes. Oh wow. The moment when his shirt hits the floor seems to last forever. Despite having seen this body before, it takes my breath away.

  The body of Mr. White is tanned and muscular. The bulge of his chest contrasts his flat and toned stomach. I can’t keep my hands off it. My hands passionately rub all over his amazing chest, pressing against the strength. He kisses my collarbone and I suddenly realize that I am topless. He kisses my lips again and I am spinning.

  Yes.

  His hand finds its way back up my skirt. I want to stop him. I want to sit down and talk. I want to know more about him. But I can’t stop this. This is a fast-moving train of lust, and once it is in motion, there is no stopping it. I have a physical need for his body and it is overwhelming.

  I need it.

  I need him.

  When
his hand brushes over my pussy, it sends emotion flowing through my body. His kisses are full of passion and his hands explore every part of my perky body. He holds my breasts in his large hands, touching them in lust. Mr. White picks me up from under the bottom, and I grip to the front of his body as he walks us effortlessly into the bedroom. He throws me down onto the bed and I watch as he removes his remaining clothing. He drops his pants to the floor, and stands naked in front of me.

  He catches me staring at his large member and this brings a smile to his beautiful face.

  “You need to take off that skirt,” he states, standing over me.

  Gladly, I pull down my skirt, stockings and knickers, leaving my body naked on the bed.

  He stands at the end of the bed and admires my body for a few moments. I love the way he looks at me.

  I have never felt sexier. When he looks at me, I have never felt more like a woman.

  I feel… I feel erotic.

  I attempt to move towards him but he stops me by holding out his hand as a stop sign. He smiles and then brings his body over the top of mine. Again, he stares at me.

  This time, he is not staring at my body but into my eyes.

  Deep into my eyes.

  Then his cock touches my wet pussy and I come rushing back to reality. As he slides his hard cock into my wetness, I grip at his arms. Slowly, he pushes his way in, entering deep inside me.

  Oh yes.

  I can feel his member deep and full, pulsating inside.

  I close my eyes as Mr. White holds his member still inside me. I sense every piece of him, touching me in places that only he can touch. I am meant to be here. This moment was meant to happen. Here is my place. Mr. White slowly withdraws and smoothly enters me again.

  Wow.

  His manhood is so big. I feel full. As he lies over me missionary style, I rub my hands up his powerful arms. His arms are so strong, and my hands smooth easily over his tanned body.

  Oh.

  Yes.

  “Faster,” I whisper into his ear.

  “You want it faster?”

  “Yes,” I whisper again.

  Again, he is slow with his hip movements.

  “Then be a good girl, and say please.”

  “Please,” I plead.

  I need it.

  I need it hard and fast. Mr. White smiles as he looks down at me. Gradually, he begins to build harder and faster. The thrusting begins to build momentum.

  Yes.

  He becomes quicker.

  Oh yes.

  And deeper.

  Yes!

  Harder!

  Quickly, he pumps me with all his force, slamming his cock deep into me. He is so strong. So deep. From deep inside, I can feel a moan building. It starts deep within my body and gets stronger and stronger. I can’t hold it in. I bring my arm around the back of his neck and try to keep the moan quiet. But he keeps slamming me and I can’t contain it. As I hold onto him tightly, it escapes out of my lips. With a passionate rhythm, he continues to pump himself into me. My head throws back and I start to orgasm. I feel the beauty flow over me, tingling into every part of my body.

  Oh yes…

  The world around me becomes lighter, freer. Mr. White continues thrusting with strength, slamming himself into me with a consistent pattern. My head is spinning. This is my moment. This is my world.

  Yes.

  My voice lets out a scream of pleasure, from deep within my body. My breathing quickens into hard pants of desire as he continues to drive himself into me - his hardness pulsating deeply in my pussy. This passion, lust and desire is better than anything I have ever experienced before. He pushes down on my shoulders, holding me still as he rides into me.

  He has taken control of me and I am all his. In this moment, I have no control. He owns me. Every piece of my skin glows with warmth and I scream with the passion that is charging out of me.

  Yes.

  Mr. White slows and I come back to reality. I look up to him and see a smile stretched across his face. He slows the thrusting and then withdraws from me. My chest is panting as he watches over me.

  “You have such an amazing body,” he whispers.

  I can’t respond to him. I am too high from the orgasm. He holds himself inside me but I want him to continue. I don’t want this feeling to stop. I wait for him. Please.

  Fuck me harder.

  Thump! He slams his cock into me, driving me back into the bed. He powers into my pussy with aggression and speed. I become lost in his rhythm. I can’t contain it. It rushes over me. His dominance makes me orgasm again. My head is spinning.

  Fuck yes!

  I feel his climax coming. He groans louder and slams harder. With my head in another place, he pumps into me one last time. I feel his warmth squirt inside me, tingling my insides. He pants hard as he slowly moves in and out of me, trying to hold onto every last moment he can.

  When he is done, he falls to the bed next to me. I fall forward, unable to do anything else. After I come down from the dizzying highs, I roll my body over to his and stretch my naked limbs over his muscular figure. He is puffing hard as I snuggle into him.

  When his puffing slows, he looks to me and our eyes connect again.

  He smiles.

  Wow…

  14

  Still buzzing from the highs of incredible sex, I wander around the gallery the next day in a daze, smiling ridiculously at everyone that walks in.

  I think all the smiling must be off-putting for some New Yorkers because they just look at me like I am an idiot. ‘The sex was incredible,’ I want to say to them, but I’m sure they would think I am even more of an idiot if I did that.

  After a day floating amongst our newest art collection, I walk into the back office and turn on the computer. The email from Joel grabs my attention:

  I am working on my newest collection and I need your advice. What do you think about love?

  What? Is he serious? The world’s most wanted artist is creating a new collection and he wants me to be his inspiration? My heart melts. This is incredible. This is everything that I ever wanted.

  Nervously, I type my response:

  Love?

  I don’t know a lot about love but I know it is overwhelming. I have been lucky enough to experience it before, and I was lost in the emotion.

  His response is almost immediate:

  What about lust? What do you know about lust?

  Now there is a topic that I have more recent experience with!

  But what do I tell Joel? I can’t tell him that I am currently sleeping with the most beautiful man I have ever seen. It wouldn’t feel right saying that to him.

  I have had experience with lust. I know that it is also overwhelming and can be easily confused for love.

  If you have the chance to act on your lust, I know that it can be an incredible experience and send your mind into another world.

  But I know that it can also be confused for love.

  Again, his reply hits my inbox straight away:

  And what would you choose?

  It’s a strange question. Almost like he knows my thoughts.

  It is exactly the question that I am struggling with at the moment. I could love Joel, I know I can, but I don’t know if I could lust after him. I don’t even know what he looks like.

  I definitely lust after Mr. White. Definitely. That is not love. That is a physical attraction that blows my body away.

  My response to Joel is merely one word:

  Love.

  And his response comes straight back again:

  Then we should meet.

  Finally, he wants to meet me.

  But something feels uneasy about his response. Is he watching me? Does he know what I am going through? This man is an artist – he could also be a very dangerous man. He might be hiding his identity because he is a criminal, a stalker… or worse.

  I know nothing about this man. Meeting him could be the most dangerous thing I have ever done. I could h
ave a stalker for life. But I have to meet him. I have to take that risk. I have to risk my heart. Regret will fill me forever if I don’t.

  I reply with one word:

  Yes.

  15

  “What do you wear to meet an artist?” I cringe as I look into my wardrobe.

  “You’ve got to look cool, but not too cool. Sexy but not over the top. Classy but not too classy. And arty… but not too arty,” Marissa says as she sits on the edge of my bed.

  “Oh. Well, that’s easy then,” I reply sarcastically.

  “Don’t worry about it too much. Whatever you wear will look great on you. You are so lucky in that regard. You can wear whatever you want and make it look amazing.”

  “Thanks, but that doesn’t help me.”

  “You have an amazing smile, a great personality and damn sexy body. It doesn’t matter what you wear – the man will be smitten by you the second you walk in the door.”

  “Thanks Marissa. How about this?” I pull the long black dress out of my cupboard.

  “No way. Too classy. No…” Marissa moves her hands through my cupboard, thinking deeply about the right match of clothes. “Here.”

  She throws a nice skirt and shirt onto the bed and matches it with the right red high heels. “The heels say sexy but the skirt and shirt say casual.”

  I stare at the combination for a little while, “Actually, I think you’re right. That will work well. I love you Marissa, you are a star.”

  I give her a peck on the cheek and begin to change into my outfit for the meeting.

  Joel and I sent a few more emails and in the end, we decided to meet at a bar not far from my apartment. I have been into the bar before and I feel comfortable there. It’s not too noisy or too busy, but there are enough people around to scream for help if he turns out to be a psycho.

  “How will you know who he is?” Marissa asks. “You haven’t even seen a photo of him.”

  “He’ll come up and say hello to me. Apparently, he knows what I look like.”