Romance: The Billionaires Collection (Watched By A Billionaire, Stranded With A Billionaire, Caught By A Billionaire, Billionaire Stepbrother) (25 page)

The water flows down my body, warm and soothing. I rub
soap all over my skin, rid myself of the sweat and bodily fluids that
had accumulated. I pay particular attention to my pussy, cleaning it
thoroughly, making myself presentable.

My mind continues to clear, breaking out of the fog of
lust that had devoured it, and I consider what else he told me –
that he wants me to complete a job for him.

I can only assume, given my particular area of
expertise, that this job will involve a theft, most likely of jewelry
since that's my main forte. If it's enough to get me off the hook and
for him to drop all interest in handing me over to the cops, then I
suppose I have no choice.

Thankfully, my work excites me. And as with the amazing
sex, it's hardly the worst thing I would have to do in order to get
him off my back.

But still, it depends on the job. I'm a professional,
and I've always worked alone and made my own choices. If I don't like
the feel of a particular job, I won't attempt it. I know my own
limits, and I'm meticulous in knowing what is and isn't possible for
me.

Still, I get requests from time to time through my
contacts. They might want something from here or something from
there. Often, I'll turn them down, even if the potential payday is
huge, because the last thing I want is to fail.

Failure means no payday. But worse, it might well mean
jail. And a lot more of it than the year I endured before. A year
living in a cell with Marge, butch Marge with her stinking body odor
and horrible, incestuous past.

She was intent on telling me stories of her youth.
Fucking her cousins, her uncle, even her brother from time to time.
She once let slip that she had her way with the family mule as well,
and while you'd usually expect the woman to come off worse in that
scenario, on this occasion I felt bad for the mule.

She was a grotesque, horrendous cellmate, and probably
made prison life a lot worse than it actually might ordinarily have
been. I've always through of it like working in an office - if you
hate your job but get along well with your colleagues, it's bearable.
If you hate your job and hate your colleagues, it's hell.

And, well, I hated prison and I hated Marge even more.
And if ever I was to go back, and found myself in a cell with a woman
like her, they might just have to add murder to my list of crimes.

Hell, perhaps they'd put me in solitary...even that
would be a step up.

So, right now, all I can think of is that I'll do
anything Sage asks if it means staying out of the can. But still, I
just hope this job is doable. Because if it isn't, I'll be sure to
try my hardest to drag him down with me.

The thought flutters through me mind, but I am fairly
sure a man like him wouldn't take a risk if it means getting indicted
himself. So, either the job will be easy enough, or he'll make sure
there's enough distance between us to ensure I'm the only one who
takes the blame.

I douse myself in another later of soap, and just as I'm
thinking of Sage and the potential of him screwing me over, I hear a
noise behind me.

I turn, and see him opening the door to the shower,
already naked, the full sight of his body clear and clean in the
bright light of the bathroom. And for the first time I see all of
him, away from the dimness of the bedroom, and know he's here for
that second round he mentioned.

“
I couldn't wait,” he says, piling right into me.

He knocks me against the wall, my body still lathered in
soap, and immediately his own flesh is soaked and covered in suds. I
feel the simultaneous press of his lips against mine and his dick
against my leg, meaty and already preparing to grow.

There's a sudden passion to him this time that wasn't
present before. He was all metronomic in his instructions and orders,
almost robotic in the way that he fucked me.

Not now.

Now his hands are rushing and gripping. His tongue is
dipping and diving. His entire weight is pressing against me, pushing
me to the wall of the shower, out of the path of the downpour of
water.

Before I know it, he's spinning me around, and his hands
are descending to my ass. One slips between my cheeks and slides up
inside me, my cunt lubricated by soap this time and not my own
fluids.

His other hand drops to his cock, which I can already
feel growing hard. He steps back a touch, puts space between us, and
then guides himself inside me as he pushes back up against me,
pressing my tits into the wall.

There's are no orders now. Just an animal desire to fuck
me like a beast, plunging at me from behind, sticking his dick so far
up into me and with such force that I yelp and gulp air. Pain and
pleasure mix inside me, and I plant my hands firmly onto the wall for
grip.

I push my ass back into him as his crotch comes crashing
into me again and again, and soon I'm suffering from a dose of
euphoria that's just as emphatic as before.

He spins me around, and kisses me passionately again, so
hard our teeth clatter together. His mouth and lips fall to my
slippery wet tits, devouring my nipples as he lifts up both my legs
and sticks his dick back inside me.

I'm off the floor now, my arms around his neck, my back
against the wall. I'm being thrown up and down, stabbed on his
manhood over and over, his strong arms easily holding my light weight
and tossing me into the air with the ease of a weightlifter.

In his fervor, he slips, one leg giving way on the soapy
floor, and he drops to one knee as I come falling down on top of him.

I look into his eyes, and see only laughter, and his
booming, gurgling chuckle fills the air. I laugh too as I slide on
top of him, and we roll around under cascading water with our arms
and legs entwined, his cock entering and exiting me every time we
stop and find our footing.

I ride him and he rides me, and the fuck is even more
intoxicating than the last. The smells and sounds of the soap and
water fill the air, and a cloud of condensation mixes with our cloud
of lust until we're both red and growing dehydrated as if we're in a
sauna.

We screw in the shower for an hour, Sage turning the
water cold at one point to cool us off before starting up again. And
even with the constant friction and endless fucking, my pussy stays
wet, although I can't tell if the lubrication is my own or the
artificial work of the shower.

Frankly, I don't care, and it doesn't fucking matter.

And eventually, when he's had enough and is willing to
let himself go, Sage thrusts his cock into my mouth once more and
demands that I swallow.

“
Swallow it this time,” he says, and his come spurts
into my mouth.

There's less than before, and this time I'm ready, and
in my haze I suck it all down until his dick is dry.

His hands reach down to my chin, and grips to open my
mouth, and I open wide to show him what's inside – nothing. Just my
tongue, and no come.

He smiles.

“
Good,” is all he says, before lifting me back to my
feet and kissing me again.

And that's where the night ends. Because once we're
done, and we're out of the shower and dried off, he sends me away
from the mansion in a private car.

And during the entire journey back to my hotel, my mind
is no longer taken by thoughts of this job I'm going to have to do,
or the threat of prison.

But the feel of his dick, the touch of his fingers, and
the passionate work of his lips.

Chapter Two

“
This way please Miss Wright, he's expecting you.”

I'm taken down the corridor by the secretary at the
front desk on the 50
^th
floor of a central Manhattan
building. Ahead, I see a sign on the door – Sage Dalton, CEO.

I know, from the research I've done on Sage, that this
is one of many offices he has around the world. However, this is his
central branch, and the place where he spends most of his time.

His business dealings – primarily trading and finance
– are a world away from my understanding, however, and the activity
on the floor tells me it's a busy damn world to work in.

The noise is oppressive, almost damaging to my personal
sensibilities. There's an endless chatter on phones and shouting
between different banks on the floor. It's frenetic, almost febrile,
and nothing like my own quiet little life, robbing people in the dead
of night.

I prefer silence, to be alone with my thoughts. Frankly,
I'd sooner kill myself than work in an environment like this.

We reach the door, and the secretary opens it without
knocking, having already been called in by Sage. Despite the cramped
set up on the floor, with cubicles squashed together and hundreds of
people seemingly jostling for space, Sage's office is large and
grand.

I pace inside, and gaze at the artwork on the walls and
the large windows behind his desk at the back. The New York skyline
rises up high, something I've never seen from this height.

It's beautiful, of course, but I spend no time thinking
about it. I'm here for work, only, and nothing more.

Sage sits behind his desk, covered in computer screens
and files, his suit jacket hanging on his chair.

“
Kristen, come on in,” he says, and I cover the 30
or so feet to his desk. “Take a seat.”

The orders keep coming, and I keep obeying. But today
it's not about sex. This is about business.

“
I trust that no one can hear us, and that none of
this is being recorded?” I ask, my tone businesslike, professional.
Because this is my world we're going to enter, not his.

“
You can. And can I trust you, that you're not wearing
any recording devices?”

“
I'm not.”

“
Well, you won't mind if I make sure.”

He stands and moves toward me around his desk.

“
Remove your jacket.”

“
I'm not wearing anything...” I say.

He doesn't listen to me, and only repeats his command.
Clearly, he's meticulous to the point of being obstinate, a quality
that probably serves him well in life but is grating on me right now.

“
Fine.”

I remove my jacket and let him inspect it.

“
Anything else you'd like me to take off? Perhaps I
should do a little strip for you right here in your office?”

He smiles, and merely stands me up, rubbing his hands
over my body and feeling for any wire or recording device. Against my
will, I feel a thrill at his touch...something I've yearned for since
he fucked me so vigorously last week.

“
I suppose you're all clear,” he says, but I suspect
that he's just toying with me and using the whole thing as an excuse
to fondle me.

Not that he'd need an excuse. All it takes is an
order...

He sits down again, and pulls a bottle of scotch from a
drawer, along with two glasses. He doesn't offer me it, he just
pours, and slides one across the table toward me. The assumption is
I'll drink it, which I do.

“
So, shall we get down to business?” I ask.

He takes a sip and hands me a file.

“
His name's Morgan Trayfoot, he's an old business
rival of mine. Well, I say old, but I mean current. He's been a thorn
in my side for years.”

I flip open the file, and see a picture of the man. He's
older than Sage, but still relatively young. Perhaps 40 by the looks
of things. Blond hair, a fair complexion, and a little extra timber
around his midsection.

I flip over the page, and see the sight of a gorgeous
necklace, all diamonds and rubies and sapphires.

“
That's the target,” comes Sage's voice. “It's his
absolute prized possession. He keeps it in his mansion, like I did
with my earrings.”

I look up at him, and he gives me a knowing nod.

“
Now, I want you to steal the necklace for me. Do you
think the
Night Panther
is up to the job?”

“
It depends on the situation,” I say quickly,
flicking through a couple more images of the man and the necklace, as
well as the mansion he owns. It looks just as grand as Sage's, and I
suspect the two respective men have been going toe to toe for years
over just about everything. Mansions, work, women...

“
Explain.”

“
Well, I'm a professional, Sage. I only take jobs once
I've done my own due diligence and I know the odds are hugely stacked
in my favor. I don't take risks, and won't follow through if I don't
think I'll succeed. So, it really depends on what my research turns
up.”

“
Well, I can help you little on that front,” Sage
says. “The necklace is held in a safe, like mine was. And
thankfully, I know precisely where it is.”

“
How?”

“
I've seen it.”

“
How recently?”

“
Less than a month ago. He invited me around for
dinner, but it was only to show off his world famous necklace. I know
that much. Of course, I didn't see the combination to open the safe,
but I know the system was just like mine. If you can get through my
security, you can get through his.”