Power Play: Jodie and the Billionaire
Read Power Play: Jodie and the Billionaire Online
Authors: Selena Kitt
Selena loves
hearing from readers!
website:
http://www.selenakitt.com
facebook:
http://www.facebook.com/selenakitt
twitter:
http://www.twitter.com/selenakitt
@selenakitt
blog:
http://www.selenakitt.com/blog
Get ALL FIVE of
Selena Kitt’s FREE READS
GET THESE FREE
READS
A Twisted Bard's
Tale
Hannah's Choice
Sibling Lust: In
the Barn
Connections
Taken
PLUS EXCLUSIVE to
Newsletter Subscribers:
MOXIE
By Selena Kitt
High school senior, Moxie, agrees to be
moral support for her friend, Patches, who is totally enamored with a college
boy, so she says yes to a double date, even though she has to lie to her
parents to do it. But Moxie wasn’t counting on lying about her age to get into
an x-rated movie, and she definitely wasn’t counting on her date’s Roman hands
and Russian fingers, or the fact that the pants she’s borrowed from Patches are
several sizes too small. By the end of the night, Moxie finds herself in far
more trouble than she bargained for!
S
elena Kitt’s *Power Play*—where those uber-hot
alpha authority figures take full advantage of their status to strike up all
sorts of sexy naughtiness with their subordinates!
A trip
to Vegas for her best friend’s bachelorette party is the perfect break from her
high stress job, and it serves to be lucky for Jodie, when handsome millionaire
Dorian Cole asks her to roll dice for him at the craps table. Always lucky with
dice, Jodie wins him two-hundred-thousand dollars. Grateful, Dorian offers to
tip her, but Jodie refuses, ready to go off with her friends to a night on the
town. And that’s when Jodie gets a real life indecent proposal—an
invitation to be the billionaire’s “date” for the weekend. Looking into the
man’s darkly seductive eyes—how could she possibly say no?
Selena Kitt Single
Short Story—Big
Bang!
(approx
17,000 words)
Warning: This title contains hot,
steamy nobody-writes-it-like-Selena-Kitt sex between alpha authority figures
and their subordinates!
Jodie
had never been lucky at anything in her whole life except rolling dice and
finding Jason. She didn’t do the former often, but the latter she had plenty of
experience in. The problem was—apparently so did
Nicole,
the slut,
the redneck skank, the devious little home wrecker.
She
stared at the text on her iPhone, wondering if her LifeLock case was really
waterproof, because she was seriously considering dropping it into the Caesar’s
Palace fountain as she sat and waited for the rest of the girls to come back
from gawking in Versace across the way.
Plz
text me back. I’m sorry.
Right.
It
took every ounce of her willpower not to text the little weasel back. It took
even more willpower—superhuman willpower—not to check Facebook,
where she knew he was going on and on to
her
about how
funny
, how
cute
, how
sweet,
and he couldn’t believe they’d both watched
Frozen
over a dozen times and just loved it better every single time. How old was
Nicole,
anyway, twelve? She acted twelve—except when she was sending nude pics to
Jodie’s fiancé.
Just
how stupid did Jason think she was?
But
it was hard not to respond. Because it was
Jason.
At some point she had
stopped being Jodie and they had become JodieandJason. They’d been
JodieandJason since anyone could remember. She ignored her mother’s voice in
her head,
“Jodie, most high school sweethearts don’t make it, you know. I’m
not saying you won’t, but…”
Why was her mother always right?
She
glanced up, seeing the girls coming out of Versace, all of them loaded down
with shopping bags. Most of them had husbands—rich ones. Besides Kimber,
Jodie’s best friend since forever, Lauren was the nicest one. She was married
with a daughter, a college friend of Kimber’s. The other three were like
Barbies—Jodie called them “the triplets” in her head—all bleach
blond, tanned, long-legs and fake tits. She could barely tell Brittany,
Courtney and Delaney apart and mostly didn’t want to.
Her
best friend, Kimber, was marrying Ryan Camfield, the heir to some sort of paper
making fortune, and this trip to Vegas was her version of a bachelorette party.
Jodie hadn’t gotten to that part of the planning yet herself, she realized, swallowing
the lump in her throat.
But
she had picked out and put a down payment on the dress.
That’s
when her mother had made the remark about high school sweethearts and failing
relationships. Right there in the dressing room while Jodie tried on wedding
dresses. Of course, she knew the statistics, but she and Jason weren’t a
statistic. They would beat the odds. They would be together forever. They might
never make the kind of money Kimber and her husband did, but they would be
happy. Forever. Ever after.
Until
Jason found
her
on Facebook.
Nicole.
Jodie couldn’t even think
about the girl without sneering in her head. Nicole the home wrecker. She’d
seen her picture, had looked through all of them with a sort of pent-up rage
that scared her. She thought she understood, now, how people ended up dead
after break-ups.
Nicole
was a brunette, pretty in a natural sort of way with rosy apple cheeks, a
down-to-earth country sort of girl who liked Luke Bryan and pickup trucks.
Jodie didn’t understand the appeal—what did Jason see in this girl? How
had this
Nicole
invaded her life, her relationship? How had she managed
to steal Jason out from under her nose while Jodie wasn’t even looking?
And
how could he possibly have started and then continued this “relationship,” for
six months, all the while letting her plan their wedding?
“You
guys done?” Jodie dropped her iPhone into her purse as the girls approached.
“Jodie
didn’t come to Vegas to shop or gamble,” Kimber teased. “She came to pawn some
weird-ass rare book.”
“I
came for
you
, Kimber.” Jodie snatched her purse off the table. Behind
her, the Caesar’s Palace fountain show was beginning, the statues coming
magically to life. She felt like she had to escape all of it. “I have to go to
the ladies room.”
Of
course, she didn’t have to—but she didn’t want to burst into tears in
front of a bunch of women she didn’t know. And she didn’t want to tell Kimber
about Jason, not here, not now. It wasn’t fair to spoil her friend’s
bachelorette party with her own unhappiness. It wasn’t Kimber’s fault Jason was
a jerk and
Nicole
from Buttfuck, Missouri was a homewrecker.
Jodie
stopped at the full length mirror, doing what she’d been doing since she’d
discovered all of
Nicole’s
texts and photos and the Kik messenger
account on Jason’s phone—trying to find what, exactly, was wrong with
her. She wasn’t perfect—her mouth was Angelina-Jolie-too-big, her plain
brown hair probably too long, pulled back into a sensible ponytail—but
she wasn’t hideous. In fact, as much as she hated to admit it, she and
Nicole
even looked a little alike, if you squinted from a distance.
So
what did
Nicole
have that she didn’t?
“Hey.”
Kimber pushed open the bathroom door, coming up behind her. “What was that all
about?”
“Nothing.”
Jodie tried to put on a smile. It almost looked real. “You’d be depressed too,
if you thought your job was going to disappear inside of a year.”
“You
might want to wait to complain about the sky falling until it actually hits you
on the head, Chicken Little.” Kimber rolled her eyes, putting her hands on
Jodie’s shoulders. “Besides, you’re the Simon Cowell of the publishing
industry. Even if the whole thing goes to hell in a hand basket, you’ll be
fine.”
“I’m
sure you’re right.” Jodie slung her purse over her shoulder, turning to face
her friend. “So what’s on the docket tonight?”
“Well,
first
we’re going to get make-overs.” Kimber tucked a short strand of
platinum blond hair behind her ear as if it had been out of place. “Then we’re
going gambling!”
“Sounds
like fun.” The thought of group makeovers and gambling didn’t exactly thrill
her, but this was Kimber’s show and she was running it. Never mind that girls
weren’t supposed to plan their own bachelorette parties. Kimber had been
running things since they met during their freshman year of high school and she
wasn’t about to stop now.
“Are
you sure it’s just the job-thing that’s got you down?” Kimber’s perfectly
plucked eyebrows drew together in concern.
“It’s
nothing.” Jodie felt her phone vibrating in her purse. She was sure it was
Jason calling. Again. “I’ll tell you later.”
“Hey!”
Kimber called after her, but Jodie left her in the bathroom, joining the girls
at the Caesar’s Palace fountain show. They were giggling like teenagers because
one of them had a laser pointer and was using it to delineate where all the
statues’ male-parts should be. Very mature. But it was about par for the
course, so far, on this trip.
“Ready
to go get a make-over, everybody?” Kimber brightened as she approached and they
all squealed in response at this new surprise. Kimber had been full of them,
from springing for the plane tickets to taking them all to Cirque du Soleil,
which, she had to admit, was kind of cool. Except she kept thinking how much
Jason would have loved it, which just depressed her.
“Come
on.” Kimber put her arm around Jodie’s neck, smiling at the rest of the girls.
“Jodie needs some cheering up. I say we go get make-overs, dress up like
prostitutes and go gambling!”
Jodie
plastered on a smile at all the group enthusiasm. It didn’t really matter what
they did, after all. None of it was going to cheer her up.
* *
* *
“My
goodness, you clean up good.” Kimber grinned, brushing Jodie’s newly cut,
colored, styled and curled hair over her shoulder, looking on approvingly as
the stylist finished the last of Jodie’s makeup.
“You
look amazing. That dress is incredible!” Jodie blinked at her friend’s
incredibly short skirt and impossibly high heels. She felt decidedly out of
place in her jeans and t-shirt.
“You
should have come with us into Versace.” Kimber wagged a finger at her.
“Shopping is good for the woman’s soul, you know. Isn’t that a book?”
“I
think you’re about my size.” Lauren, Kimber’s college friend—the nice
one—piped up from the chair beside Jodie. Lauren was getting the
finishing touches on an up-do, pretty dark curls piled on top of her head.
“I’ve got a dress you can borrow for tonight, if you want.”
“Oh
no, I couldn’t…” Jodie started to protest, but Kimber was already raiding Lauren’s
bag. She pulled out a sparkly black dress, so short it made Jodie blush just
looking at it.
“Oh
wow, this would be perfect on you!” Kimber squealed, shaking the dress at her
friend. “Go put it on! I wanna see!”
“No,
really…” Jodie continued to protest but she was soon surrounded—even the
triplets were ushering her into a bathroom in the back.
The
dress was pretty incredible, she had to admit. Checking the tag pinned under
the arm, she gaped in horror.
Fifteen hundred dollars?
For a
dress?
She’d never worn anything so expensive in her life. She undressed down to her
underwear—boring white cotton bra and panties—and slipped the dress
on over her head. Her reflection smiled back at her in the little mirror over
the sink as she smoothed her hands down the sides of the dress. The hemline
ended well above her knee.
“Hey,
can someone—” She pulled the door open, finding all the women surrounding
the door in a half-circle, waiting for her. “Um… the zipper… I can’t get it by
myself…”
“I
can do it.” Lauren pushed into the bathroom, helping Jodie with her zipper,
holding her long, dark hair out of the way with her other hand. “Wow, you’re a
bombshell in that dress. But the socks have got to go.”
“Oh.”
Jodie looked down and blushed at the rainbow striped socks she was wearing.
“Shoes…”
“Here
you go, Cinderella!” Kimber pulled a shoe box out of her bag. “Try these on for
size.”
“No
way they’ll fit me.” Jodie frowned, opening the box. Kimber was far more petite
than she was. In high school, they’d traded clothes sometimes, but her things
were always big on Kimber and vice versa. Shoes were out of the question.
“Oh
just try them,” Kimber urged. “My feet have gotten bigger since high school.”
She
was right. The shoes slipped on—just barely. They were tight and pinched
Jodie’s toes, but the heels made her legs look even longer under the short
skirt.
“Perfect,”
Lauren exclaimed, clapping her hands in delight. “Now let’s go win some money!”
“Are
you sure you’re okay with me wearing this dress?” Jodie asked, lifting the tag
under the arm. “It’s… uh… not cheap.”
“Are
you going to run away in it?” Lauren wrinkled her nose and laughed, unhooking
the tag and putting it into the bag.
Jodie
couldn’t remember much about Kimber’s college friend, but she was far easier to
chat with than the other girls, who talked about country club memberships,
nannies, and husbands who worked eighty hours a week. Lauren had mentioned a
husband and a little girl—and clearly she had enough money to buy a
fifteen-hundred dollar dress—but she seemed less pretentious than the
others.
“Well…
no,” Jodie admitted, grabbing her jeans and t-shirt off the sink. “I promise
I’ll give it back to you.”
“Good
deal.” Lauren winked at Kimber, linking her arm through hers, and then doing
the same with Jodie. “Now let’s get drunk and go gambling, shall we?”
They
made a quick stop at the hotel room, dropping off their bags and purses, taking
only what they needed in little clutches. Jodie didn’t have one of those
either—she hadn’t realized how high-end things were going to be on this
trip—so Lauren loaned her that too. She put her driver’s license, her one
credit card, her iPhone, some lipstick and, at the last minute, a picture of
her and Jason from her wallet, taken at the zoo three years ago next to the
gorilla cage, into the sparkly little clutch.
He
sure made a monkey out of me,
Jodie thought as the elevator took them down
to the main floor. The women wandered around the casino, drawing quite a bit of
male attention as they moved from the slot machines—Lauren apparently
loved the slots and didn’t want to be dragged away—to roulette to black
jack. Jodie didn’t bet—she didn’t have enough money—but she did
drink, since those were complimentary. She could understand why, as the night
wore on, that they gave drinks away for free. The more drunk people were, the
freer they were with everything, including their cash.
The
girls had taken over one entire blackjack table. Jodie stood off to the side,
inwardly bemoaning her decision to wear Kimber’s too-small shoes and drinking
her fourth margarita of the night. She wasn’t much of a drinker anymore and she
was well on her way to getting drunk and would probably be hung over the next
day. But if it made her forget Jason—and the texts he kept sending,
making her little purse vibrate—she was all for it.
“Come
with me to the bathroom.” Lauren slid off her stool, nudging Jodie with her hip
as she passed. Jodie put her empty drink on the tray of one of the waitresses
passing by, following. After all those margaritas, she had to pee anyway.
“So
you went to high school with Kimber?” Lauren made conversation as they weaved
their way around tables toward the bathroom. Vegas was loud, Jodie had
discovered, day and night, the sound of slot machines and roulette wheels going
at all hours.
“Yeah.”
Jodie pushed open the ladies’ room door. “You went to college with her, didn’t
you? Bob Jones?”
Kimber’s
parents had insisted she attend a good, Christian school. Jodie wondered what
they’d say if they knew their daughter was dressed like a prostitute, drinking
and gambling in Vegas a few weeks before her wedding.