by Mia De Rossi
HIS APPRENTICE
A BILLIONAIRE COWBOYS SHORT STORY
By Mia De Rossi
Copyright © 2013 by Mia De Rossi
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the author
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Also by Mia De Rossi
Billionaire Cowboys
His Apprentice
College Bound Series
The Professor Project
The Roommate Solution
A Virgin Seduction
The Friendly Misconception
Swimmer's Seduction
College Bound: Five Erotic College Tales
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
His Apprentice (Billionaire Cowboys)
About the Author
Avery Adams drove in the front gates of the mansion feeling more than a little intimidated, his damp palms clamped on the steering wheel.
Holy shit.
This dude was seriously rich. Like sheikh from the Middle East rich. Everywhere he looked there were gardeners and landscape artists and who knew what the fuck else bustling around, helping keep the place pristine.
Avery pulled into the circular driveway, suddenly acutely aware that his little Honda sedan was definitely not a brand new Mercedes or Porsche and that it wore dents as decorations. Avery thought they gave it character, but he was sure his new employer wouldn’t think so.
Stepping out, he crunched across the gravel to the massive front door and pressed the doorbell. A few moments later, a burly man in a tightly fitting black t-shirt and black pants answered, his face serious.
When the man stared at him without saying anything, Avery realized he was waiting for him to speak first. “Um, hello. My name is Avery Adams. I’m here as an apprentice to Mr. Hamilton. From Vanderbilt University?” He mentally cursed himself for being so easily freaked. He had a right to be here—Avery, among all the other students, had been chosen by his business professor to work as Mr. Hamilton’s apprentice. Five hundred people had applied. Daniel Hamilton had a hard-won reputation as one of the leading business people in the western world.
Smoothing down the front of his gray pants, Avery held out a hand for the man to shake.
But the man merely nodded curtly and turned to walk away. Avery supposed he was meant to follow, so he did.
“Mr. Hamilton is a very busy man,” the man in black said as he walked rapidly down a long hallway. “You’re here ten minutes early, which is good. Fifteen is even better. Today you’ll hang around Mr. Hamilton and observe his daily routine. You are not to speak until you are spoken to. Do you understand?”
Wow. Yeah, he understood. Understood that Mr. Hamilton sounded like a big asshole. Sure, the man was young—still in his twenties—and had made his first billion using nothing but his business savvy and huge brain. But did that mean he could treat people how he wanted?
Well, I guess he can, Avery thought wryly as the burly man opened the door to a big study. Obviously, from the size of Mr. Hamilton’s mansion and the fleet of shiny cars outside, it was working very well for him.
The study was empty, or so Avery thought. But when the man in black cleared his throat, the chair facing the large bank of windows on the back wall swiveled around and Avery came face to face with Mr. Hamilton.
Avery’s first thought was, Ho-lee shit.
The man was absolutely gorgeous. Even from about eight feet away, Avery could see that his pale blue eyes blazed with a depth and fire to which his media pictures did not do justice. When Daniel Hamilton stood, Avery noted that he was much taller than he appeared in his photographs—much taller than Avery, who was six feet tall himself. Like Avery, Mr. Hamilton was broad-shouldered, but where Avery was pale from too many days spent studying in the library, Mr. Hamilton was tan, like he spent a lot of time on the beach playing volleyball. Avery commanded his brain not to think about Daniel Hamilton in short shorts playing volleyball, but his brain resolutely disobeyed.
Right now the billionaire was clad in dark-washed jeans and a plaid shirt, complete with cowboy hat and boots. The first two buttons on his shirt were open, exposing a lovely patch of silky smooth chest.
Daniel Hamilton came around his gigantic desk, a glass of amber liquid in his hand. He cocked his head, and a small smirk tugged one corner of his mouth up.
“So you’re Avery Adams,” he said, looking him up and down in a way that made Avery’s cock twitch in spite of himself.
Great. All he needed was to pitch a tent here in front of Daniel Hamilton. That’d make a really swell story—no pun intended—for his prof back at Vanderbilt. Mr. Hamilton waved off the man in black, who receded carefully into the shadows, closing the study door behind him.
“Um, yes, sir,” Avery replied, smoothing back his brown hair self-consciously, wondering what the dude’s deal was. Why was he looking at him that way?
Daniel Hamilton stepped closer, and Avery got a whiff of expensive cologne and even more expensive alcohol. The man was surveying Avery’s face as if it was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen. “You’re very...” Mr. Hamilton appeared to search for the right word. Avery could see the moment he had it, and the moment he pushed it back in favor of another adjective. “...young,” he finished.
Avery’s brow furrowed. Hadn’t the man been told the apprenticeship was for undergraduates from Vanderbilt? “I’m twenty-one, Mr. Hamilton,” he said carefully.
“Call me Daniel,” the businessman insisted, that smirk still on his face. “Do you like whiskey?”
Avery’s head spun. Huh? Had the guy just asked him if he liked whiskey? “I’m—pardon me?”
But Mr. Hamilton—Daniel—was already walking away from him to a little bar in the corner of the office. He poured another highball glass of golden liquid and turned around. “Here,” he said, giving Avery the new one. “Come sit down and tell me a bit about yourself.”
Avery followed, more and more confused by the minute. Did Daniel think he was someone else? Did he not realize Avery was his lowly apprentice? What the hell was going on?
When Daniel gestured to the chair across from him, Avery sat, clutching his glass of whiskey to him like a baby clutching a security blanket.
Daniel laughed, throwing his head back, exposing his throat. Avery swallowed at the deep shadow of stubble there, at the Adam’s apple that bobbed with the motion. Wow. The man was beautiful enough to be a model, even if he seemed a little crazy.
“You look worried,” Daniel said, his eyes crinkling with warmth. “Don’t be.” He raised his glass. “Have a drink.”
But Avery only clutched his drink tighter, his fingers trembling. He had to be clear about what was going on. If Daniel had mistaken him for someone else—someone important, like a client—he could only imagine what hell there would be to pay later. “Mr. Hamilton—”
At the other man’s warning look, he quickly amended it to: “Daniel. Um, I’m—I’m here to be your apprentice. From Vanderbilt University?”
“I know that,” Daniel said, still smiling like he was in on a joke that Avery wasn’t in on. “I’m confusing you, aren’t I?”
Avery smiled hesitantly. “A little.”
Daniel drained his glass and set it down, his eyes bright and glassy. “I’m just so glad to see someone...I can relate to. You know, Avery, when I started Hamilton Inc. four years ago, I was your age.” He threw his head back and guffawed again. “I know, I know. I sound like a fucking grandpa. The longer I’ve been running the busines
s, the older I feel. And people...they all just treat me like I’m this untouchable, inhuman...” Daniel trailed off his disconnected diatribe and looked at Avery, taking his cowboy hat off to push a hand through his shorn blonde hair. “Anyway. It’s nice to see you. To see someone who reminds me of me in a way. Plus, you’re easy on the eyes.”
There was a startled silence as Avery stared at Daniel. Wait, what? Had the man just said he was easy on the eyes?
Daniel laughed and held his hands up. “Yep, I’m gay. I know they tend to leave that one out of the papers.”
Avery sat there, not able to think clearly. So, Daniel was gay. And he thought Avery was...easy on the eyes. Sure, the guy was as scrumptious as any dude on the cover of GQ. Sure, just the sound of his throaty laugh made Avery’s cock twitch and moan about wanting to come to attention. But still, this was Daniel Hamilton. THE Daniel Hamilton. There was no way Avery was going to fuck this up.
Avery leaned forward to convey some of his thought process to the very delicious but very drunk Mr. Hamilton, when Daniel also leaned forward, no doubt to tell Avery something else completely inappropriate and personal. The problem was Daniel mistook Avery’s leaning forward as a “move.” With a sharp intake of breath, the man scooted closer and grabbed Avery’s face in his big, warm hands.
When their lips met, it was like a fire lit between them. Avery’s protests died on his lips as his mouth automatically fell open, wanting, needing to taste the delectable Daniel Hamilton.
Daniel, not the least bit shy, nibbled Avery’s lips with his perfect teeth. His tongue danced sensuously in and out of Avery’s mouth, teasing it open wider. One of Daniel’s hands moved down to Avery’s button down shirt and slipped between two buttons, his fingers caressing Avery’s smooth chest.
Avery gasped, his cock straining painfully against his pants. Oh god, what the hell. He was only human. Avery couldn’t help it—the guy was seducing him right here on his couch and Avery was going to let him.
But then that pesky inner voice kicked in, scolding him for wasting a perfectly good opportunity. Avery couldn’t just go along with this. This was the opportunity of a lifetime, what he’d been working his entire life for. Other people would kill for it. Avery had to stop it; he had to be the responsible one. Maybe this was still salvageable if he just spoke up.
So, over his body’s shrill cries, Avery put his hands on Daniel’s chest and pushed the man away. He stood up, adjusting his position so his tented pants weren’t so visible. Panting, wishing to god he didn’t have to do this, he said, “I’m sorry, Mr. Hamilton, but I think you’re drunk, and I think we’ll both regret this later.” Like hell he would. He knew he’d never regret sleeping with a man like Daniel—smart, talented, fucking gorgeous. But he knew Daniel would most definitely regret it, and that’d be the end of Avery’s career.
Daniel, his lips swollen, his breathing ragged, stared at Avery with something very much like hurt on his face. Avery had the strangest desire to take him in his arms and comfort him. In spite of finding Daniel insanely attractive, in spite of wanting to do things to him he’d only ever seen in porn, Avery still felt like he was seeing a side of Daniel Hamilton that hardly anyone got to see.
But the moment was gone. Daniel sat up straight, his eyes on a mid-point on the floor. He rubbed a hand across his face and huffed out an embarrassed laugh. “You’re right. You’re absolutely right. I’m sorry.” He shook his head slowly, as if he was just waking up. “My behavior has been inexcusable. I’m truly sorry, Mr. Adams.”
“Mr. Adams” now. He was putting distance between them, cleaning up his mess. “It’s all right—” Avery began but Daniel cut him off smoothly.
“Listen, why don’t you take the day off? I think I’m going to bail, too. Leave me your number, will you? I’ll call you later and let you know what time to come in tomorrow.”
Avery’s heart sank. He knew, from Daniel’s tone and the way the man refused to look at him, that he’d made a big mistake. Daniel was humiliated, and he wasn’t going to call him. He was going to forget about Avery Adams and his sorry existence. But it’s not fair! Avery thought, scribbling down his cell phone number on a notepad on Daniel’s desk. It’s not my fault. I did the decent thing by stopping him—he’s drunk and vulnerable! But Avery knew things didn’t work out according to what was fair.
“I’ll talk to you later,” he muttered, but Daniel didn’t reply. Avery left, closing the door after him.
The rest of the day passed in an excruciatingly slow grind. Avery flitted about his hole of an apartment, trying to find things to do. When he began to clean the grout in his kitchen tile, he knew it was bad. Avery prayed that he’d still have his apprenticeship when he went back to Daniel’s mansion in the morning, but he knew the chances of that happening were slim.
He knew what was likely to happen was that Daniel Hamilton would sober up and realize that it was too humiliating—not to mention a possible PR or legal disaster—to have Avery come back. He considered calling Daniel, but restrained himself. Daniel was the boss, and he had Avery’s number. If he wanted to talk, he’d call.
At eight o’clock that night, Avery admitted defeat. The day had been completely and utterly shitty, and it was time to take a nice, hot bath and start over tomorrow. And who could say? Maybe Daniel would be a bigger man than Avery expected. Maybe he’d applaud Avery’s manful handling of a dicey situation. Avery was nothing if not optimistic... some would say stupidly so.
Sighing, he climbed into his sauna-like tub. He’d made sure that the apartment he’d rented had a bathtub. Baths were one of his few regular indulgences, and he couldn’t imagine not being able to soak himself after a rough day.
Now, he sank down to his nose and closed his eyes, letting the steam wrap him up in its cocoon. The heat began to work its magic on his muscles, and he felt the day’s tensions begin to slip away into the water. Avery began to fall in and out of a light doze, Daniel Hamilton receding into the far corners of his mind.
The doorbell sounded.
Avery’s eyes flew open and he sat up straighter. What time was it? And who the hell was that? When it sounded again, he grabbed the towel, wrapped it around his waist, and stepped out of the tub, water streaming onto the floor of the bathtub.
Avery padded out into the living room, leaving puddles in his wake. The air hitting his wet body made him shiver, goosebumps popping up all over his limbs. He glanced at the clock—nine o’ clock. This had better be a damn emergency, or he was going to be mad. He peeked through the peephole.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Fuck. It was Daniel Hamilton. What the hell was he doing here? And why hadn’t he called?
“Avery? It’s Daniel Hamilton. I’m so sorry to barge in like this, but I tried texting you and there was no answer.”
Fuck. So he had tried to reach him. And of course, Avery hadn’t heard him because he’d been in the tub. Not wanting to keep Daniel waiting any longer, he opened the door in his towel. So what? he thought defiantly. That’s what he gets for just showing up at my home. He can just deal with me in all my toweled glory.
Daniel Hamilton stood on his doorstep, looking even more sinfully delectable than he had that morning. He’d changed into a moss green button-down shirt, but he still wore the hat. Yum.
A sheepish grin on his face, Daniel said, “I’m sorry again for turning up this way. I just...I wanted to apologize in person and I didn’t want to wait till tomorrow.”
“That’s fine.” Avery felt his face heat up as Daniel’s eyes, seemingly unconsciously, roved over his naked torso. It was strangely gratifying to see the man still thought he was attractive stone-cold sober. “Come in.”
When the door was closed behind Daniel, Avery shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Um...I’ll just go change. You caught me while I was in the bath.”
Daniel, to his credit, looked chagrined. “Damn. Look, I’ll let you get back to it. I just wanted to apologize, and I’ll keep it quick.”
Avery nodded and sto
od waiting.
Daniel’s blue eyes flitted away and then came back to his. “My behavior today was inexcusable. I’m deeply ashamed, and I want to assure you that something like that won’t happen again.”
In spite of the fact that this was exactly what Avery had been hoping to hear, he felt his heart sink in disappointment. The thought that he’d never see Daniel that vulnerable or with that naked look of desire on his face again...
“I’d love it if you could come back to work for me,” Daniel continued. “I promise I’ll be on my best behavior.”
Avery blew out a breath, a bit relieved that Daniel didn’t seem to blame him. He stepped closer to his boss, subtly inhaling his cologne. “It’s all right. What you said, about being treated differently by everyone, I can imagine how hard that’d be. I know if my success blew up virtually overnight I’d be in no condition to accept it with half the grace that you have.” He smiled, a little embarrassed at what he’d let slip. “I’ve been following your career in the papers.”
Daniel smiled, touched Avery’s forearm. “Thanks. I appreciate that. More than you know.”
Something shifted inside Avery. And Daniel—something seemed to shift in Daniel, too, Avery could tell. The easy smile slipped off his face and his eyes grew darker as his pupils dilated.
“Tell me...” Daniel began, his voice husky. He blinked, as if he couldn’t get himself to focus. “Tell me I’m not the only one who feels this.” He put one hand on his chest and then, reaching out, put it on Avery’s bare chest next. Avery’s skin reacted as if it was on fire, and he sucked in a breath. Daniel shook his head slowly. “This...whatever it is between us. Do you know what I’m talking about?”
Avery was sure Daniel could feel his heart trying to pound its way out of his chest. There wasn’t any point in lying. He’d bet his pupils were just as dilated. “Yes. You’re not the only one who feels it,” he murmured. His cock seemed to stand up to attention just as Daniel stepped even closer, only kissing distance away now. He ran his hand down Avery’s chest, down his stomach, and grazed the top of the towel.