The Billionaire's Student: A BBW, Alpha Billionaire Romance

by Sana Chase

  “Sorry,” I replied with a sheepish look on my face. “I guess the shock got the better of me.”

  “Shock about what? And how did the interview go yesterday? I didn't get a chance to ask.”

  “I got offered a job. This is the contract.”

  I held up the papers.

  “That's great! Is it going to pay enough for you to stay in school?”

  I hadn't told Mandy all of the details of the possible job. She didn't know that one of the components of the deal was that it paid my tuition.

  “That's what I was commenting on. The weekly pay amount is much more than I expected. And yes, it's enough for me to stay in school.”

  I wasn't going to mention that I would no longer be living in the dorm. I was afraid that just the pay amount would be enough to make her ask questions. Luckily enough, she didn't.

  “That's awesome. I'm happy for you.”

  “Thanks, Mandy.”

  She returned to her side of the room and left me to my thoughts. What did “any and all personal needs” mean? Was I reading too much into that phrase, or did it mean more than just fetching his coffee? And would I receive a spanking akin to the one from yesterday every time I messed up, or did Mr. Weatherton have other punishments floating around in his devious mind?

  I knew I had a decision to make. Could I live with myself if those phrases meant something more than what was expected from your average personal assistant and I took the job? Would I survive if I didn't?

  In my heart I knew I was willing to do almost anything to finish college. I kept telling myself that if for some reason “personal needs” extended to matters of a sexual nature it wouldn't be the same as prostituting myself. After all, Mr. Weatherton was just one man, not many. With my stomach fluttering like it had butterflies, I grabbed a pen and walked over to Mandy's side of the room.

  “Can you witness this for me?”

  “Sure!”

  I scrawled my signature and the date on the lines provided and handed the last page to Mandy for her to do the same. As I sealed it into the provided return envelope, I had a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that I'd just bitten off way more than I could chew.

  5.

  The last month of school flew by in a blur of late night studying, library trips, and working out with Harold my move into the Weatherton mansion. I didn't have much to take with me. Most of my meager personal belongings left by my parents were in storage. After I took my last exam, I finished packing up my dorm room and checked out at the Commons, leaving my room key with the RA in the office.

  Bright sun shone down on me as I lugged the last bag to my beat up car. I got into my car and spared one last glance at the building housing the dorm that I would not return to. Starting the engine, I pulled out of the lot and headed off to an uncertain future.

  Butterflies swarmed in my stomach when I pulled up to the gate of Weatherton’s large mansion and hit the intercom button. I heard a whirring sound and looked up to see a camera I had not noticed on my previous visit perched on the corner gate post. I heard a loud click, and the gate slid open in front of me.

  I drove through it and proceeded up the winding drive, admiring the lush trees and colorful flowers as I made my way to the employee garage that Harold had instructed me to use which was situated on the side of the house.

  I grabbed a bag containing clothes, slung it over my shoulder, and headed toward the servant’s entrance set into the side of the house. Harold, who must've been watching my approach, opened the door before I could knock on it.

  “Miss Darling,” he nodded his head in greeting. “If you will follow me, I will show you to your room.”

  He led me through a large kitchen filled with shiny, chrome appliances and a cook busily preparing the next meal. An enticing aroma of savory spices filled the air from pots bubbling on the stove. I expected him to take the set of stairs just off the kitchen leading up to what I suspected were the servants quarters, but instead, he lead me toward the front of the house. On the way, we passed a dark oak door with a shiny brass keyhole.

  “What’s that?” I asked Harold, my curiosity getting the better of me.

  “That is Master Weatherton’s private rec room. Most of the time, he keeps it locked, but if there’s ever an occasion where you happen to discover it’s not, mind your own business and stay out. It’s off limits without an expressed invitation from Mr. Weatherton.”

  Well, okay then. I couldn’t help but look back at the door to the mysterious room as we continued toward the front of the house. What could be so private about a rec room that it required a lock?

  Harold led me up the grand staircase at the front of the house, the dark wood railing gleaming in the light of the fancy crystal chandelier hanging in the foyer. My feet sank into the lush beige carpeted risers as I climbed the stairs. At the top of the landing, we turned right, and Harold stopped at the second door.

  The second floor was as fancy as the first with glossy wood, ornate mirrors, and expensive works of art. Just the sale of one painting would likely pay for my entire college education, not to mention several years, if not decades, of my living expenses.

  “This is your room, Miss Darling,” Harold said as he opened the gleaming door and entered the room. “You have your own private bath, so you will not have to share with any guests.”

  I stared in wonder at the hot pink and black walls. While the colors seemed a bit out of place in the opulent mansion, the fancy furniture and décor added the touch of sophistication and class found throughout the rest of the large house. A white, four poster king-size bed stood against the far wall. Gauzy white material draped across the top frame of the bed to create a dreamy canopy.

  A small seating area, which included two over stuffed white chairs and a chaise lounge, surrounded a large, bay window. The window itself had a seat built into it, with fluffy pillows lining the cushion. Against the wall next to the door that I assumed led to the bathroom sat a vanity with an ornate mirror and a cushioned stool. A dresser, chest of drawers, and a couple of bookcases topped off the furniture found in the room.

  I honestly felt like I’d died and gone to heaven. I’d never seen such a fancy room. And it was mine! Well, at least for the rest of my college career unless Mr. Weatherton fired me.

  I jumped when Harold spoke. I’d gotten so lost in my exploration of the room that I’d forgotten he was there.

  “Mr. Weatherton had it decorated based on the preferences you indicated on the questionnaire you completed for Carrington Acquisitions. If something is not of your liking, you can report it to me, and I will check into having it changed.”

  “It’s wonderful!” I exclaimed. I couldn’t believe Mr. Weatherton had gone to the trouble of decorating the room to my tastes. Well, he’d hired someone to do the work, but at least he put enough thought into it to make it happen.

  “You will find all the linens you require in the closet in the bathroom. The maids will take care of cleaning your room and washing your linens, but you are expected to make your own bed. They will also launder your clothing.

  “They pick up laundry on Monday and Thursday, so if you need clothing washed, be sure it is in the proper receptacle on those days. If anything requires special care, you will need to inform Mary. She’s the head maid.”

  Holy cow! The maids were going to clean my room and do my laundry? This place just kept getting better and better.

  “Great! Thanks.”

  “Mr. Weatherton will expect you to dine with him when he’s on the premises and you’re not in class. Breakfast is at 7, lunch at 12, and dinner at 5. Do not be late.”

  A flash of heat rolled through me at his words. Even though it had been weeks, I still vividly remembered the consequences of being late to my interview with Mr. Weatherton. What I hadn’t yet decided was if I wanted a repeat of the punishment.

  I hadn’t been able to get the memory of that day out of my head, and it ran on an endless loop in my brain most of the times tha
t I played with myself when I got so aroused I couldn’t stand it any longer.

  “If he’s not in residence, you may eat in the kitchen with the staff or in your room. However, if you choose to eat in your room, you are responsible for cleaning up your dishes.”

  I nodded to show my understanding.

  “I will have Stephen, the chauffeur, bring up the rest of your belongings. Feel free to make the room your own. After all, it will be your home for the foreseeable future. If you have any further questions, you can find me, or you can ask any of the staff.”

  “Thank you, Harold.”

  “Mr. Weatherton expects you to begin attendance of meals starting with dinner tonight. Meals are always casual unless you are instructed otherwise. The dining room is the large room right beside the kitchen. You may use the time between now and then to get settled and become more familiar with the house. The only places off limits are Mr. Weatherton’s private quarters, office, and rec room, and the staffs’ quarters.”

  With the last of the instructions conveyed, Harold turned on his heel and marched stiffly out of the room. While he had never been anything but polite in my dealings with him, Harold always remained distant and formal. He was a bit of a stuffed shirt. I wondered if he ever smiled.

  I bounded through the door to check out my own personal bathroom. No more sharing with a roommate and two other students whose room connected with our own. No more having to deal with other peoples’ clothing or wet towels left in the floor or clogged toilets because someone didn’t know how to flush. And no more cold showers! Our suite mates had not been the most courteous and tended to spend forever in the shower, using up all the hot water.

  When I entered the room, my jaw dropped. The bathroom was bigger than my dorm room had been! In fact, the bathroom was bigger than my old bedroom at my parents’ house. I felt tears well up in my eyes at the thought of my parents and furiously blinked them away. For days, I’d be okay, and then the weirdest thing would bring the loss rushing back.

  I took a deep breath and gazed around the room. I couldn’t stop the squeal of delight when my eyes landed on the tub. It was sunk into the floor and had jets built into the sides. My tub was a whirlpool! It took all my will power not to strip right then and there and jump into the sunken jacuzzi.

  The bathroom floor appeared to be marble, and the vanity counter matched it. A large shower, also marble, sat in the corner, and it looked big enough to hold several people, not that I ever wanted to have that much company when I showered. Upon closer inspection, I realized it had nozzles on the sides and a control panel to adjust the type of spray and the temperature. I could have my own personal spa day without ever leaving my bathroom!

  A knocking on my bedroom door interrupted my exploration, and I bounced out of the bathroom to answer it. I opened it to find a tall, bald older man standing behind a cart that resembled the luggage carts you always saw on television when rich people checked into posh hotels. My meager belongings sat forlornly on the bottom on the bottom of the gleaming brass carrier.

  “Here’s all of the bags and boxes I found in your car, Miss Darling.”

  “Thank you, Stephen. I appreciate it.”

  I opened the door wider to allow him room to push in the cart.

  “My pleasure, Miss.”

  Stephen wore the black and white suit usually associated with the driver of a fancy car. From what I’d seen, Mr. Weatherton very much liked to keep up appearances. Harold looked the very picture of a posh butler, Stephen wore what was expected of a chauffeur, and the cook had worn a plain grey dress with a white apron. I hadn’t seen any of the maids yet, but I imagined when I finally did see one, she’d be dressed in a maid’s uniform. The question was, just how formal would the uniform be? Considering what I’d seen, I expected the formal black and white frock.

  Honestly, the formality surprised me. Even though Mr. Weatherton was insanely rich, he was young, so I expected a more laid back attitude toward the staff instead of the starchiness associated with old money. I’d done a bit of research, so I knew that Jace Weatherton had made billions on tech inventions, but before he’d struck it rich, he’d been as poor as I was.

  Stephen unloaded my belongings and bowed slightly before wheeling the cart out of my room. “Welcome to your new home,” he said as he maneuvered the carrier through the door. “I hope you enjoy it here.”

  “Thank you.”

  I started unpacking and contemplating what I’d wear for dinner. Unfortunately, nothing I owned measured up. Even though Harold had said that dress for meals was casual, I had a feeling that Jace Weatherton’s idea of casual was much different than mine.

  6.

  After unpacking and putting away my stuff, I’d opted to take a shower because I felt a bit grimy. I got so lost in the warm pulsing jets of water that by the time I finally dragged myself away from the seemingly never ending stream of hot water, I discovered I was going to be late for dinner if I didn’t hurry. A little thrill shot through my body as the memory of what had happened the last time I was late flashed through my mind.

  The feeling of being bent over his desk while his powerful hand smacked against the bare flesh of my ass remained fresh in my mind even after weeks of absence. I could almost sense the outline of his hand on my bottom as I rushed out of the bathroom. As much as the memory of the spanking excited me, I decided I wasn’t quite ready to test his patience by being late twice in a row.

  I slid a pale, pink sundress over my head and quickly stepped into a pair of white, cotton panties. I frowned as I skimmed them up my legs and over my curvy hips. Despite the fact that I was inexperienced, I decided that my time wearing the plain underwear needed to come to an end.

  Whenever I received my first personal expenses check, I’d buy some new, slightly sexy panties. By no means did I intend to go full out slut, but I thought it wouldn’t hurt to invest in some lace.

  Grabbing the hair dryer from where I’d left it on the vanity, I plugged it in and quickly dried my hair. I knew I didn’t have time to dry it completely, but hopefully I could get it dry enough that I didn’t look like a drowned rat. With one eye on the clock, I scrunched up my auburn curls as the warm air blew through them. After a few minutes, I checked in the mirror, and determining it was passable, I clicked off the hair dryer.

  Shoving my feet into the nearest available sandals, I rushed out the door and down the padded stairs. With barely a minute to spare, I skidded into the dining room. Mr. Weatherton eyed me with a raised eyebrow.

  “Cutting it a bit close, aren’t we, Miss Darling?”

  He sat with perfect posture in his elegantly padded dining chair, and I discovered I was correct in assuming that his idea of casual would be different from mine. He wore a pair of black trousers that I suspected was made by a designer and a button up white shirt. I suspected he’d simply removed his coat and tie from earlier in the day.

  I was struck again by how handsome he was. His blonde waves didn’t quite touch his shoulders, so I guessed he must’ve had his hair cut since I last saw him.

  Breathing a little harder than normal, I strode over and sat down in the chair next to him. I knew it was the correct one to sit in because it was the only other spot at the table with linen and silverware set out for it.

  “But I made it on time.”

  I could’ve sworn the corner of his mouth ticked upwards as if he were about to smile, but it disappeared so quickly, I couldn’t be certain.

  “Try not to make a habit of it. Dashing in at the last minute is almost as bad as being late. It’s always better to be a little early.”

  Nodding, I filed that tidbit away for later. On time actually meant be early. Check.

  “How are you settling in?”

  Mr. Weatherton asked as the cook, whose name I still didn’t know, strode into the room with two steaming plates in her hands. She placed them in front of us, the heavenly smell from the food wafting to my noise and making my mouth water. I hadn’t realized how hungry I
was.

  “I’ve got most of my stuff put away.”

  I took a bite of the dish and almost moaned at the burst of flavor. Whatever the meal was, it was delicious. I didn’t know much about food, but I at least knew that whatever I was eating was Italian in origin.

  “Good. Did you find your accommodations satisfactory?”

  “Oh yes!” I gushed. “I love my room! It’s beautiful.”

  He did smile then.

  “I’m glad you like it. I had a couple of disagreements with the decorator on some of the pieces.”

  Somehow, I couldn’t imagine anyone disagreeing with him. He exuded authority, power, and confidence naturally in a way that some men only dreamed of doing. The meaning behind his words suddenly hit me. Surely he hadn’t personally picked out everything in my room?

  We spent the rest of the meal making small talk, and it passed quickly. Despite the powerful aura surrounding Mr. Weatherton, by the time we’d finished eating, I’d discovered that he was really easy to talk to. He had a way of letting you know that you had his undivided attention.

  Several times during the meal, I’d looked up to find his eyes on me and felt a shiver from the heat radiating from them. Did he level such looks of intensity at everyone? I felt he must.

  Surely, he didn’t find anything in me even slightly attractive. Why would he? I was certain he could have his pick of any woman he wanted, which meant there was no way he’d want a curvy girl who had a little more junk in the trunk than your average supermodel. Besides, he was way out of my league.

  I stood and excused myself from the table. With a nod to Mr. Weatherton, I left the room, deciding that I would explore the mansion a little since I had not been able to do so before supper. The door to the mysterious rec room caught my attention as I exited the dining room. The pull it exerted on me was undeniable. However, after Howard’s stern warning and Mr. Weatherton’s close proximity, I thought it best if I didn’t let my curiosity get the better of me.