Shades of Step Billionaire

by Harlow, Jenna

  “What if I decide I don’t like him?”

  “Then we will set you up with another candidate. We find it works best to match people on an individual basis, rather than bombard you with multiple selections at once. Does that make sense?” she asked.

  Olivia nodded and smiled. She guessed it seemed like a reasonable way to do this. She wondered how many ‘dates’ she would have to go on before she met someone suitable.

  “Good. All you have to do is wait for him to contact you. Here is your dummy account information. Please only use it to correspond to potential matches,” she said as she pressed a card into Olivia’s hand. Olivia took it and put it in her purse. “He will go by the name Mr. King and you will be referred to as Ms. Prince. Use those names when you meet out in public.” She couldn’t shake the butterflies that were loose in her stomach, warning her that she was doing something foolish. She brushed them aside. I’m tired of waiting for the right guy to come along. They always run away once they know what I really want…need. This has to work. I don’t know where else to go…

  “Congratulations on signing up with Royal Interests Matchmaking. I’m confident you’ll find your perfect match with us,” she said, holding out her hand. Olivia shook it and stood, straightening her skirt.

  “Yes, I hope so. Thank you,” she said. She felt awkward thanking a complete stranger for facilitating a match between herself and a man based on their shared sexual interests. She marveled at the diverse services available to her in the city and tingled with excitement at the thought of finally meeting someone who could satisfy her.

  “I think I’m going to like life in the big city,” she smiled.

  Chapter 3

  3 Days later…

  Jeremy Hamilton paused as he read the email from the dating service.

  Thank you for working with Royal Interests Matchmaking.

  What the fuck am I doing?

  He stared at the computer screen, and debated clicking on the enclosed link to see the match they sent him. He actually hated the idea of using a dating service, especially since he had no problems finding women. Hell, they sought him out. What he couldn’t find, though, was someone who shared his particular…interests. Someone who was able to give him what he needed. The frustration was killing him. He was too prominent to venture out to a club, and the women he did go out with could never take it as far as he wanted. Eventually, they all left. They couldn’t take the darkness, couldn’t handle what he had to give. Despite the throngs of women he had at his disposal, he never found even one he could truly be himself with. His finger hovered over the mouse as he debated opening the email. At least this way he’d know going in that she liked it, too. He clicked. A photo appeared, of a dark haired woman with full pouty lips, porcelain skin and attractive features. Her form was also impressive; full ripe breasts and round curvy hips He squinted as he took in the image. The email included a list of the woman’s preferences. As he read through the list of her desires and cravings, he realized they were complimentary to his. As his dark eyes poured over the image of her form on his computer screen, his dick twitched. His smiled, she had his interest. In a blink he imagined her bound and gagged and moaning his name in ecstasy. “Nice,” he whispered. He copied and pasted her email address and composed a brief communication.

  Ms. Prince,

  I received your information from Royal Interests Matchmaker. Meet me at the Amaryllis restaurant, 14000 Pearl Street (Top floor of the Crown building). 8:00 pm Tuesday.

  Reservations under Mr. King.

  Jeremy sat back and proof read his email. After a final read, he paused and then clicked send. He tried to dismiss it, but it was hard to ignore the uneasy feeling he had about using a fucking dating service. He could have any number of women, naked and blindfolded and in his bed, begging for him, but it wasn’t enough. He didn’t want someone who was simply going along with what he wanted to do. He wanted a woman who craved submission as much as he needed to be dominant. Someone who wasn’t going to run away the minute things got intense. He didn’t want to be with someone he had to push beyond their limits. He wanted someone who needed her limits pushed. Someone who wanted it so much she was willing to sign up at a dating service to find a partner. He wondered, looking at the curves of the sexy woman in the photo, if he might have just found her.

  The next morning Jeremy pushed through the glass doors at his office. A secretary sat below a sign with his name on it Hamilton Industries. She wore a prim navy blue suit with black reading glasses and gray hair pulled back into a severe bun. “Grace,” Jeremy greeted her with polite indifference as he approached her desk. Grace smiled and handed him a collection of messages. He took them and headed down the hall to his private office. As he reached his door, his phone chirped, alerting him of an incoming text. He entered the large office with sweeping views of the city, crossed over to his mahogany desk and set down his messages and briefcase. As he sat down he pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the text.

  Jeremy-

  Your sister started her job in the city last week. I asked her to get in touch with you. Please make time in your schedule. She’s new to the city and doesn’t know many people there. It would mean a lot to me. Thanks.

  -Dad

  Fuck.

  Jeremy tossed the phone onto his desk. She’s not my sister. I don’t even know her. He resented his dad forcing an artificial familial relationship on him. I don’t have time to play host to a school girl. He wasn’t a fucking babysitter. Let her take care of herself. His mind drifted back to his family. His father had married his stepmother when he was seventeen, almost an adult. Her daughter was ten when they moved in. He barely remembered her. She was always a tiny wisp of a thing who was quiet and kept to herself. He remembered her hair though. It was always a mass of tangles. Jeremy had moved out at eighteen and had not been back since. He had plans for himself and little time to give to the instant family his dad tried to create. He resented the pressure to let these strangers into his life and pretend they were suddenly a family. They weren’t. Jeremy moved out and kept his distance, preferring instead to spend his time pursuing his career. He devoted himself to it, and had amassed a fortune as a young investor which he then parlayed into billions. He loved working; it was what he valued most. He didn’t have time for annoyances and especially not to play big brother to someone he didn’t know. His phone chirped again, pulling him out of his reverie.

  Hi Jeremy,

  I’m sorry to bother you. Your dad told me to contact you once I was in town. Are you free sometime this week? It would be nice to see you.

  -Olivia

  Guilt tinged him as he read her text. He could tell she was afraid to bother him, and hesitant to make contact. He sighed. He didn’t mean to be a dick. It wasn’t her fault…but he really didn’t like to force a relationship when there was none. What’s the point? “Shit,” he grumbled. He stared at the text for a moment, deciding what to do. If he blew her off, his dad would just nag him more. Better to meet with her briefly and then send her on her way. He exhaled and punched at his phone.

  “Olivia-

  I’m free a week from Thursday for dinner. Meet me at La Belle restaurant in the Plaza building. 7:00 pm.

  -Jeremy

  He couldn’t blow her off completely, but at least he could push her out for a week. He chose the restaurant in his own building to minimize the travel time. He could be done with dinner and back home before the night was even over. He hoped he could keep it short.

  The next day was a blur, and lingering resentment about the obligatory dinner he had scheduled with his stepsister faded as he focused instead on work, and the upcoming date he had with Ms. Prince. At the end of the day as he shut down his computer, he impulsively clicked on her picture again from the dating service. He definitely found her to be attractive, he just had to see if they got along, and gauge whether or not she would be able to handle him. Not many women could, at least not long term. He stared at her picture again, co
ntemplating. The fact that she was willing to seek out someone like him was definitely promising.

  Tuesday night Jeremy got off the elevator on the top floor of the Crown building and headed to the lobby of the restaurant Amaryllis. The Crown building was a new acquisition for Jeremy, who had recently branched out into corporate real estate. Having made so much of his money in online ventures and financial investments, it was nice to own something tangible. He had since bought several buildings and hotels in the area, including the building he lived in.

  He glanced at his watch and grimaced when he saw he was already five minutes late. He strode directly over to the maître d. “Reservation for Mr. King,” he said. Jeremy kept a low profile, and was glad the staff didn’t know who he was, making it possible for him to use the alias Mr. King without worrying anyone would recognize him. The maître d checked his book and then smiled broadly.

  “Ah, yes your party has already arrived. Please follow me to your table,” he said, holding his arm out to direct him to the dining room. It was a modern open area. Large windows lined the walls and provided a stunning view of the city. Linen covered tables dotted the room and a large mahogany bar sat off to the side. Jeremy followed as they wove through a sea of patrons, thinking how ironic it was that he was meeting someone in such a refined elegant atmosphere for the express purpose of exploring their sexual desires. It felt depraved, yet exhilarating. Just the thought of that alone was enough to make his dick stiffen under his suit coat. The maître d slowed as they approached a table in the center of the room. A woman sat in profile to him, he was glad to get a glimpse of her before she saw him. She had brown hair that tumbled in curls over her shoulder. In an instant he wondered what all that hair would look like splayed over a pillow. She wore a red dress that wrapped around her body, showing off voluptuous curves and accentuating a flat narrow waist. A thin string tied in a bow fastened the dress at the side. He smiled at that and imagined pulling on that string would feel like unwrapping a lovely present. She turned as he approached and he caught a view of her in profile. She was striking. Her look was definitely unique, and he was a great admirer or rare beauty.

  “Ms. Prince,” he smiled down at her at the table and held out his hand.

  “Mr. King,” she replied. Jeremy focused his eyes on her in as he sat down. She had bright blue eyes, full pouty lips and delicate features. She looked even better than her photograph.

  My God, she’s beautiful.

  The moment he saw her he knew he wanted her; wanted to see her shaking under his touch, trembling at his command. When their eyes met he made a vow to himself, a secret goal. He knew before the night was through he was going to make her come.

  The secret reason for their meeting was already getting to Jeremy and he felt a rush of heat swell within him. He shook her hand and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek. As he did so, a bouquet of fragrance hit him. He inhaled, drawing in the intoxicating mix of jasmine, rose and gardenia. It was a heady moment, charged with promise and electricity, but he couldn’t get side tracked by her beauty alone. He had been with many beautiful women; beautiful women who ultimately couldn’t satisfy him. He needed to be discerning. He stiffened his spine as he sat and shifted his attention to the task at hand, getting to know each other better.

  “So, Ms. Prince, I got an email reminding us that we’re under strict instructions to leave out personal information at this meeting-we can’t talk about our work or ourselves in too much detail. If we decide to move forward after this point it is up to our discretion when and how much personal information we disclose. Olivia smiled. “Okay, so what should we talk about?” she asked. Jeremy smiled. “I think we’re supposed to talk about our kinks.”

  Chapter 4

  Olivia blushed, flushed with embarrassment. “I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she laughed. She felt like her whole body was electrified she was so excited to be meeting Mr. King in person. She had never felt this nervous before, and couldn’t believe she actually had the courage to meet him. She was glad she did, though. He was gorgeous. He looked like he just walked out of a magazine. He was well over six feet tall, he had the broad shoulders of a football player, thick dark hair and eyes and a strong angular features. He was even more attractive in person than the photograph she had seen.

  “You know for someone who is interested in alternative practices, you’re surprisingly shy,” he said. Olivia smiled again. She found his big brown eyes disarming, and felt comfortable opening up to him.

  “I know, I’m sorry. It’s just that, I’ve never really talked openly with anyone about my preferences. And then there’s the reason we’re meeting…

  “What do you mean?” he asked. Olivia glanced nervously around to make sure they wouldn’t be overheard.

  “Well, we’re meeting for the explicit purpose of determining whether or not we want to have sex with each other,” Olivia whispered as she spoke, feeling self-conscious about the topic. Mr. King threw his head back and barked in laughter, and then leveled his gaze upon her again. He leaned forward, his eyes piercing and focused.

  “Okay, that’s true. But isn’t that what any date is?” he asked. Olivia felt another blush rush through her and charge straight to her core. He was so direct. Olivia appreciated his candor, and found his openness alluring. She fell silent for a moment, lost in his eyes.

  “You’re right, I guess I never thought about it that way,” she said.

  Mr. King looked thoughtfully at her for a moment. “Maybe it’s too early to jump right into the heavy stuff. Why don’t we order and you can tell me a little about yourself. What your interests are, your line of work, that kind of thing. Olivia smiled.

  “Okay, I’d like that.” Just then the waitress appeared.

  “Good evening, my name is Cynthia and I’ll be your waitress for the evening. Cynthia’s eyes flashed as Mr. King turned to look at her. She looked like she just set her eyes on a juicy steak. She smiled broadly and crouched down between Mr. King and Olivia’s chairs, presumably to give off an intimate, friendly vibe. Olivia found it annoying.

  “Our specials tonight are the pan seared scallops, filet mignon, or pheasant-…” she continued on, but Olivia was distracted by the obvious way she was trying to flirt with Mr. King. She had turned her body away from Olivia completely, and even rested her hand on the arm of his chair. Olivia began to wonder if she even realized she was there. Mr. King was polite, yet appeared unmoved by the waitress’ overt attention to him. The waitress leaned in close to him and pointed out something on the menu. Olivia was becoming uncomfortable watching the waitress flirt so openly, but she couldn’t blame her. Mr. King was a stunningly handsome man, she just wasn’t expecting someone to flirt so directly with him in front of her. In fact, looking around the room, she noticed many women stealing glances of him. Briefly she wondered if her self-esteem was strong enough to handle dating someone so attractive. She imagined if this happened every time they went out, she could start to feel paranoid.

  Finally the waitress finished taking their order and disappeared. Mr. King smiled at Olivia, and she instantly forgot about the fawning waitress. As the conversation wore on, Olivia was delighted to find out Mr. King was as charming as he was handsome. In fact, once they got to talking, they discovered they had a lot in common. They both came from small towns, both parents were divorced and remarried; they enjoyed a lot of the same sports teams and even had similar hobbies.

  “I can’t believe you play broomball!” Olivia squealed. It was a sport her stepfather had taught her. She had not met many other people who played the obscure game. She started to feel like she had known him her whole life. She was happy she had spent the time getting to know him, and was feeling much more comfortable. She realized part of it was because he was so warm and attentive. He watched her so closely when she spoke, giving her his complete undivided attention. He made her feel like she was the only person in the entire restaurant. She realized what a rare quality that was these days. She had been interrupted m
any times while on dates while her companion read texts or took calls. It was so refreshing to feel like he valued her presence enough to really focus exclusively on her.

  The flirty waitress returned to clear the table after dinner. She continued to smile suggestively and bat her eyes at him as he ordered coffee for them. Olivia turned away until she was gone. Best just to ignore it, she thought. Besides, he didn’t seem to even notice. He gave Olivia his complete attention. After the waitress left to get coffee, he held her gaze in silence for a moment before speaking. “I’ve seen your list of preferences and interests.” His statement sent a spear of heat charging to her core. Her stomach tightened. If she thought the conversation was awkward before, she knew she’d have to really brace herself now. It never occurred to her how uncomfortable it would be actually discussing sexuality so openly, and how challenged she was to not shy away from the topic. She knew she’d have to get comfortable with it if she really wanted to pursue this with Mr. King.

  “Yes, I’ve seen yours, too,” she said quietly. He nodded, his expression became serious.

  “Olivia, have you ever actually experienced any of the things you put on your list?” he asked.

  “No, have you?”

  “Yes,” he said. His answer was immediate, certain. He said it with and intensity in his eye that rattled her core. She suddenly worried that she was swimming in waters that were far too deep for her. She held his gaze for a moment longer.