by Caelia Sky
The Billionaire’s Secret: Book One
Caelia Sky
Copyright Text © Caelia Sky 2014
All Rights Reserved
Smashwords Edition
This is book one of The Billionaire’s Secret
The next part coming before 11/20/2014
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Book One
“You’ll be safe now,” I tell the soul on the other end of the phone. She was frightened; I could hear the trembling in her voice. Did my niece feel betrayed? Did she hate me? She did after all witness something no eleven year old girl her age should ever witness. Then again, tragedy was something she was no stranger to.
“Are you going to be alright?” asks Rin. The girl had just witnessed a murder, and yet, she was worried about me? The culprit? I wasn’t worthy of being related to someone of such purity. But I couldn’t lie to her.
“I don’t know,” I say, my voice calm and indifferent. “But, don’t worry about me; I’ve already notified the authorities.”
I don’t regret what I did, only that she witnessed it. That man deserved what he got, and it was my fault that Rin ended up in that situation. If I had been more adamant about letting her stay with me when my sister Christie fell ill, none of this would have ever happened. But it was too late for regrets; that would change nothing. My only hope now, was that Rin would be able to smile again. Her warm, compassionate smile that could make even someone as unsympathetic as me pause and feel elated. It was a smile I would never see again, but one I prayed she would have the strength to use. I had no doubt she would, she was a strong girl. She witnessed a murder and didn’t shed a tear.
“Will I see you again?” she asks.
“You’re smart; you can figure the answer to that question for yourself. Stay with your grandfather for now, he’ll keep you safe.” My sister was in the hospital, and there was no one else I could turn to except for my father. I told him what I had done, and while he wasn’t happy to hear about it, he welcomed his granddaughter with open arms. I was never on good or bad terms with my father, as we didn’t talk much, even while I grew up under his roof. But when I needed him, he was there for me; I could say that much at least.
“If that’s the case, then thank you for helping me.”
For a moment, I am speechless. I never expected her to thank me. If anything, I thought she would consider me a monster. But she was grateful? I didn’t consider myself a hero, just someone who corrected a mistake they made, but…
A small tear trails from my eye and runs down my cheek. I use the sleeve of my shirt to wipe away the salt infused stream along with the residue. “You’re welcome, and farewell.” I hang up my cell phone and turn it off. I didn’t want her to call me again. If she did, I don’t know if I would be able to contain myself. I’ve never shed a single tear in my life, but all it took, was two words from my niece, a simple “thank you”, to create that subtle change inside of me. It was an odd and unnatural feeling.
A knocking comes from outside of the bathroom door. “Are you ready,” says the male voice.
“Almost,” I say over the mild stream of the faucet. “Just give me one more minute.”
“Sure thing Ms. Nakatomi,” says the man.
“We’re off duty,” I say with a faked snicker. “Call me Sora.”
“Ok Sora, I’ll be waiting when you come out.”
I stare into the mirror. The woman that reflects off of it has light skin and an expressionless face. Her golden eyes stare back into the woman outside of the mirror, and there is no trace that she had been on the verge of tears just moments ago, nor that she had already shed one. Her round brush raven black hair reflects off of the mirror, and she puts on a fake smile, her red lip glass glossing off of her lips. To the agent outside of the bathroom and everyone else she knew, she appeared to be a friendly, compassionate person; a role model type. But on the inside, she knew she was a fake sociopathic bitch. In truth, she didn’t care about this man she was about to sleep with; she was only looking to take her mind off of recent events.
“I thought joining the FBI would give me a new perspective, but I haven’t changed one bit,” I say, turning off the faucet and exiting the bathroom. They would be here shortly, and I wanted to have a little bit of fun until then.
As I exit the bathroom and enter the bedroom of Wilson Gray—a fellow FBI agent who I prefer to call Gray—in only my underwear, the smell of spiced apples fills my nostrils. I can see a row of scented candles burning in the dim lit room, the flames dancing in excitement as they melt through the flavored wax. Agent Wilson Gray lies in bed in his briefs. He’s giving me a handsome alluring look that tells me immediately what he wants.
“What made you change your mind about me?” he asks.
“Oh, well I just thought that it wouldn’t hurt to have a quick fuck,” I respond with a smile. “We have partnered up on a few assignments, and you can be charming, so why not have some fun.”
“You’re looking for fun, but have you considered something more…serious?”
“I might,” I lie, approaching Gray’s bed. “It depends on how good you are”
“Then I don’t think you will be disappointed.”
“Let’s get started.” Time was of the essence, and I wanted to pleasure myself before it was too late. I had no emotional attachment to this man; he meant nothing to me at all. But he was an attractive person, and I didn’t mind having meaningless sex with him, however, it was for my own pleasure.
“You’re beautiful,” says Gray as I lean over him and rub my body against his.
“Yeah?” I ask, rubbing my crotch against his thigh.
Gray grabs the back of my head and kisses my lips. “You’re mixed right?”
“You’re into mixed women?”
“Japanese and white right?”
I put my finger on his lips and rotate my waist against his briefs, rubbing against his erect crotch. “Yep, but none of that matters right now, Gray.” I sit on Gray’s crotch and grind my ass against his cock. I slowly take off my panties and throw them in his face. Gray licks my panties and I inch my way forward, making my way for his mouth. “How about you please me first?” I ask, bringing my lower lips down onto Gray’s Orifices. “You should be glad I’m letting you eat me.”
With a muffled sound, Gray begins feasting on my pussy. I sigh and grab my breast, tweaking my nipple as Gray eats me out. Gray sucks at me with ferocity, inserting his tongue into my slit and nuzzling the folds around my clit. I rotate my crotch around his mouth, moaning as he laps up my juices. He grabs my thighs and sucks on my clit, bringing his tongue around it in circles and pressing into it lightly.
“Good, keep doing that,” I say, pressing my cunt against his mouth.
He doesn’t realize that I am only using him for my own selfish pleasure. I have no intention of pleasing him, and I don’t feel bad about it at all. I’d get my just desserts shortly anyway; the least I could do is enjoy myself until then.
He grabs my ass and squeezes my cheeks, devouring my pussy with his mouth. My juice flows and runs across his face, the strong musk hitting his nose and causing him to increase his grip on my ass.
I grab him and guide him onto his knees, pushing his head to my crotch, using his body and mouth as my personal sex toy.
Drool wells in my mouth as I use his tongue, moving back and forth and circling around my clit as his lips pull me in, to drive me to orgasm.
My hands grab onto h
is head tightly, and I hold him onto me as I come. He struggles for breath, but continues to pleasure me. He pulls at my inner lips with his mouth and rubs his finger around my inner thigh. My pussy contracts and my legs shudder as my fingers press through his hair and against his scalp, using him to balance myself. I release him, but I am still hungry for more.
I push him against the bed and pull down his briefs, sitting on top of him and grinding my wet pussy against his cock. “This is what you want right?”
Gray nods with a hungry smile.
I guide his cock into me, and it slowly makes its way inside. I can see Gray grimace in pain as my walls compress his cock. His tip touches against my sweet spot.
Without waiting for his signal, I begin shifting my hips up and down, beating my crotch against his pelvis with each motion.
“Slow down,” he says through groans, “you’re going too fast.”
I ignore him, and continue at my pace, placing my hands on his chest for support. No, it isn’t that I ignored him, but more like, I no longer acknowledged him as anything other than my personal fuck toy. As of now, his only reason for existence was not as my partner, not as a friend, but as a means of personal pleasure.
I keep moving my hips, only caring for myself, as I drive closer to the edge. Drool falls from my mouth and hits across Grays stomach. My muscles flex, my eyes waver and lose focus, and I begin to gasp and moan as his cock pushes into me and pulses against my throbbing vaginal walls.
When it comes time to come again, I press myself fully down on his cock and dig my nails into his chest. He lets out a mild groan, and I feel my climax rising.
At that moment…
The door to Gray’s apartment is busted down, and a multitude of cops surround us, with guns pointed to me. “Freeze,” shouts the leading officer. “Agent Sora Nakatomi, you are under arrest for the murder of Sean Morrow.”
Naked with Gray’s cock still deep inside of me, I stare at the police, their gun barrels aimed for my head, arms, legs, and pretty much anywhere they could seriously injure me. I expected them, they expected me. The only one surprised was Gray and a few police who didn’t expect to bust me in this manner.
“Sora, what are they talking about?” asks Gray. I look down to him and then back to the police. It was obvious to anyone with a brain what was going on. The police did after all, say my full name and crime. I didn’t have time to entertain his ignorance.
“May I get dressed first?” I ask.
“Two minutes,” says the head officer, his gun focused straight at my head.
I get off an embarrassed Gray and pick my bra and underwear off of the floor. “I left the rest of my clothes in the bathroom.”
“Take what you have in your hands, put it on, put your hands on your head, and lie face down.”
“What’s an extra minute to fully clothe myself? You could at least show an FBI agent that kindness right?”
“Former FBI agent. You can kiss that future of yours goodbye, you’re nothing but a murderer now. But hey, since you were kind enough to surrender and save us the trouble of finding you, I’ll have one of my men escort you to the bathroom.” The leading officer spoke in a judgmental, resentful tone, as if he was talking to someone less than human. It didn’t hurt me, and part of me has always felt like I wasn’t fully human.
As I dress myself in the bathroom, I think about my future. I had without a doubt committed first degree murder, and that was a serious offense in the US. I enjoyed my time in the FBI, I found it fun, but that life was coming to an end. In fact, my life would be over after this. I would receive forty years in prison at least, and I would never see my sister and best friend Christie, or her daughter and my niece, Rin, again.
It was me who called the police and told them where they would find the body, as well as where they would find me. But now that they were here, and reality hit me square in the face, and I was afraid.
From my years of studying criminal behavior and their psychology, I knew that I wasn’t like them. My reasons for doing what I did were out of love and necessity. If I didn’t act, who would? And now, I was going to be punished for following my moral code? I’m getting punished from saving my niece, who my sister trusted me enough to appoint as her godmother? The unfairness of the situation was something that was hard to stomach. But stomach or not, those officers had all intention of taking me in.
Two minutes pass, and I am fully dressed. My trembling hand reaches for the door, and my vision blurs from tears. I turn the knob and open the bathroom door. I thought I would be calm, I’ve never felt fear like I did now, knowing that my life would most likely be over, and that I would never find that one person who accepts me for my personality, who I don’t have to pretend around. Perception can truly differ from the reality when it’s here in the moment.
As I exit the bathroom, the officer grabs wrist. “I’m going to turn you around and cuff you now.”
At that, my calf muscles flex and I lift my leg into a swift kick, hitting him in his shin. I can hear the force as my shin hits him with a crushing sound. He falls to the ground, curls over and clutches his leg, and wails in pain. I was more than proficient at Muay Thai, so I know I hurt him good. But now I had done it.
Wasting no time, I dart for the window and throw myself out of it. The glass shatters and the cold air hits my face as I land on my side. A shard cuts the back of my hand, and a burning pain soars throughout my side, but I stand to my feet and start running.
What was I doing? It was as if my body was acting on its own. I knew that fighting the police was silly and futile. Once they had you pinned, you were pretty much done for unless luck was on your side. Luck was never on my side, but a sharp pain was.
All I knew at the moment was that I didn’t want to go to jail. I didn’t want to never see the only two people who kept me afloat. I wanted to find meaning in my meaningless life, and I couldn’t do that in prison.
Holding on to my side, I run across a street, empty in the night, and dash into an alleyway, hoping to lose the police. Warm blood drips from my hand and leaves a small trail. I can see curious onlookers peeking outside of their blinds and wondering what the commotion was about. Dark rooms become bright and shadows walk by in the windows, but I don’t slow down to appease their curiosities.
I can hear the sirens of police cars blaring as they search for me. I know that by doing this, I am only making things worse. I know that I’m not going to get away, but I’m afraid. In fear, the normally rational person I was, was nowhere to be seen. When fear bears its fangs and stares you in the face, and you envision a future locked behind a small excuse of a room, ration tends to be absent, replaced by desperation.
Taking a break from running, I walk into an alley way and kneel down. I think I lost them; I should be safe for no—
Before I can finish the thought, I can hear the click of a gun and a cold steel barrel pressed against the back my head. I didn’t need to see them to know they were angry, and from the overflowing emotion contained at the end of the gun, from the heavy pressure of the barrel as it was pushed against my skull, I already knew who it was. “Gray,” I say, raising my hands in surrender.
“You know, I never thought I would ever consider shooting you, but after the way you played me, I have to admit it’s hard to resist.”
“Someone as charming as yourself wouldn’t want to soil your professional record and future just for petty revenge.”
“You continue to mock me? I trusted you Sora, and you used me.”
“What do you want me to say, sorry?”
“Save it, I know you’d be lying.”
“I made it clear before that I had no interest in you. It was you that insisted on being with me, but frankly you just aren’t my type.”
“Who exactly is your type? Murderers.”
“Someone I can call a friend.”
He snickers. “It’s hard to do that when you use people for your own benefit.”
“Doesn’t everyone?”<
br />
“No, not everyone sees others as their tools Sora. If you can’t understand that then—“
“I think it’s you who doesn’t understand.”
“I should shoot you; you resisted arrest so technically it’s in my right.”
“Then shoot me.”
He presses his gun against my temple; I can feel the cold murderous steel against my skin, and smell the bloodlust in the air. “You’re shaking.”
“You’ve got a gun to my head.”
“This isn’t just one of your acts?”
“What do you think?” I ask.
Gray grabs me and pulls me to my feet, cuffing my hands behind my back. “Good luck finding your fictional friend in prison. I always thought you were a mystery, but I never expected you to be such an uncaring person. They have a term of people like you.”
“Please don’t say it.”
“So you do know what you are? It doesn’t mean much but it’s a start. I’m not really sure how someone like you got into the FBI anyway.” As he pushes me to be taken in by the police, I sigh. He knew exactly how I got in; he was just too blind by anger to realize it. I might have enjoyed my job, but that didn’t mean I didn’t take things seriously. I put in the effort, and was one of the highest scoring applicants. In other words, when it came down to it, I showed the most promise. It’s that simple.
* * *
“Ms. Nakatomi,” says the interrogator, staring into my eyes with a fierce glare. He was trying to intimidate me, but I was unfazed. “Did you know the victim Sean Morrow before the night you killed him?”
“My victim,” I say, savoring the taste of those words. When referred to that man, I felt those two words were perfect justice in a world filled without. “Why does it matter? He’s dead; I murdered him.”
“Ms. Nakatomi, we just want to get to the bottom of this.”
“The crime did have witnesses you know.”
“We are aware that your niece was present, and we received reports of gunfire where the murder took place.”
“His house to be precise,” I correct.
“Could you tell us why?”