Snagging the Billionaire

Snagging the Billionaire

by Sharon Parker

Copyright (c) 2013. Sharon Parker.
 

All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any form or by any means, including scanning, photocopying, or otherwise without prior written permission of the copyright holder.

Table of Contents

Testing the Waters

Payback

Besting George

Grand Scheme

Keeping the Ring

Millicent wasn’t content to be a billionaire’s
mum; she sought to be part of something bigger. Meanwhile, a blueblood with dwindling fortunes begins the hunt for a suitable husband.

Thirty-five years old and as wealthy as sin, George was married to his job.  Nothing gave him more pleasure than raking in more money. He wasn’t born poor neither was he born rich. His father had been a hardworking businessman who could provide just enough for his family to keep them comfortable. George and his brothers had never gone to bed hungry, lacked clothes or a little spending money. Everybody except George was satisfied. George had never been one to give life so much credit. He was an overachiever, who always yearned to be part of something bigger. George was his mother’s child.

Recently, dinner at
Milly’s Palace,
as his mother loved to call the home George had given her as a birthday present, had become more work than sealing business deals. The ever-magnificent Millicent had gotten into the new found habit of trying to hook George up with blue bloods. It was important to her that George married well, after all he was now a billionaire; all he needed to become
King of the Upper East Side
to the right bride.

Parking in front of the house, George brief
ly prayed to the Gods. He prayed tonight would be a family dinner like those ones they had before he joined the billionaire’s club. Seeing his brothers would be a good thing since he never found time to visit them. He had loads of nephews and nieces he only saw during Christmas, although he never failed to send gifts on birthdays.

Dinner had started without him. H
e was late again. Thank God he had brought that Vintage wine his mother loved to drink.

“Uncle
Georgie,” the kids screeched on spotting him.
Georgie was their special nickname for him. Before his mother could say jack and remind them of table manners, they were already by his side battling to give him hugs.

“Hey chipmunks
,” George crooned, hugging and kissing each child in turn. The boys growled when he kissed them. Done with the kids, he moved to the table. It was momma’s turn.

He presented the wine to his mum; an expensive gift always had a way of making her forgive all sins. Millicent knew how to hold a grudge, or pretend to hold one. Whenever she did that, be sure to prepare your peace offering. She pretended to ignore the drink.

“It’s vintage, Mum; I only get the best for my queen”, he planted a sloppy kiss on her lips. With that he proceeded to the guys, squeezed every brother on the shoulder and went about hugging the wives.

He was just about to grab her for a hug when her brunette hair stopped him. His brothers had all married blondes, petit blondes. He had taken no notice of her on entry into the room. Suddenly she became more obvious than ever. Sitting there, pouting like a dolphin
; another of his mother’s schemes. Any prayer he said that had Millicent in it always went unanswered.

After piping a curt “Hello” to which the only response was batting eyelashes, he took the only empty seat in the room. Dinner was a more of a catch up affair; everybody struggled to talk louder than the other. Only the brunette whom his mom introduced as Jen
nifer remained silent, sitting with a rod straight back and sticking to every rule of etiquette that had been taught to her.

Jennifer was a weekend guest. George was also a weekend guest
, a reluctant one; staying the weekend was his peace offering. His mother had used her arm twisting techniques to make him stay. After dinner the trio withdrew to the living room after everybody had left. Mother and son chattered on, Jennifer remained silent. George was just about to conclude she was either dumb or speech impaired when a tiny voice quipped, “Milly, do you mind if I take a walk in your garden?”

“Yes, dear. I’m sorry I haven’t been able to show you around but I trust my George would be happy to walk with you
.” Blood drained from George’s ears, the glint in his mom’s eyes resounded her mission. He felt like a cornered rabbit. How could he possibly say no without appearing callous?

As if she sensed his resistance, Jenni
fer turned to Milly and quipped, "I could really use a solitary walk."

“That would be totally rude of us, you are our guest. My George would be happy to accompany you at least for tonight
,” Milly insisted, giving George the ‘move it’ look.

If George had a weakness, it was most certainly his mother. He let her run his life; he lacked the
heart to ever go against her wish; though he could silently fight her. Presently, her wish was for him to marry into a family with name. No better way to consolidate wealth than to marry a blue blood. Any weekend he was in town, she always introduced a new girl to him. All the girls had two things in common: they were from renowned family, and they were all eggheads. Other than fashion, cosmetics and hot tourist spots, they were totally misinformed. Their powerful last names were all they needed to clinch a spot in society.

Five minutes into the walk, George was already miserable. Jennifer was certainly the worst of the brood. Her silence was so loud and deafening. He hated to discuss fashion or any other superficial thing but right now he could kill to hear her say anything stupid.

“Do you ever make small talk”, he queried out of frustration. A girlie giggle was the only reply he got.

“Okay, you don’t make small talk because your etiquette teacher said it’s unladylike”, he continued.

A man should at least be rewarded with silly lady mumblings at least when accompanying an egghead on a walk on a very chilly light. No man deserved this loud silence. He was damned if he was going to let her frustrate him. George pulled out his cell phone, called his assistant and began to chatter away on business matters.

Jennifer could almost not believe her luck; here she was in a lonely garden, taking a walk with one of the country’s most eligible bachelor. He thought she was
tongue-tied or something, only that she was plotting her grand scheme. She was born an aristocrat but soon she was going to lose all that came with it except the name. Her brother was rapidly partying away the little nest her father had left behind; her trust fund could barely support her. Her best bet now was a good marriage. She had the name; all she needed was someone with money. She couldn’t imagine a life without the extreme comforts she had grown up with. Without the money, the name would become history in no time.

Meeting Millicent had been pure luck. Millicent was new in high society and trying to navigate her way around whilst hunting a wife for her George. Jennifer’s Mother had spotted Millicent and carefully orchestrated their meeting. The rest of the scheming was left to Jennifer. George should be an easy target especially now that she had won his beloved mother over. All she needed to do was draw him in, which she was yet to figure out how.

“They have to love it, you need to make them….” George was saying into the phone. The man was such a workaholic; he could really have some fun. Jennifer thought to herself. The silent girl stunt didn’t work on him; he apparently had no time to waste in coercing her to talk to him. This guy was obviously not enthralled by the aristocratic kinds who waited to be entertained.  It was time to try something new. Inching closer to him, Jennifer snatched the phone from him and ran off before he could stop her. She didn’t know her way round the garden, she ran into the area surrounded by tall hedges. It would be more fun if she could get missing, and he had to start a search for her.

George was amazed and confused, all at once. Did she have some sort of mental issue or was she simply trying to get him into a little game of hide- and-
seek? He silently looked all round for her. He couldn’t go back without her; his mother would go crazy. After a few more minutes of searching, he decided to head into the house to check if she had returned without him. Just at the garden gate she leapt out of nowhere, toppled him over and was all giggly. He had been making a very important call, her prank should make him angry but who got mad with a beautiful woman with messed up hair giggling at them? Nobody!

The slow smile in his eyes told her he wasn’t mad
when she ran off with his phone. He certainly loved a woman with a little spirit. Tucking that piece of information away, she altered her demeanour and in a sing song voice said, "You were supposed to be showing me around, not making calls.”

How nice of her to turn the tables, very typical. “You were too busy with yourself to require a tour guide
,” said George.

“
Arrgh,” she grunted, very unladylike she thought. “Now I’m out of myself and I need that tour.”

A quick glance at Rolex told him it was late, they should be heading back to the house before his mom came looking for them. “Too late for that now
,” he calmly informed her.

“Please, please
,” she pleaded like a child begging for candy. Her plea had an unexpected effect on his groin. It was like an aphrodisiac. Weeks without female companionship suddenly began to take its toll on him. She gave him her hand, and like a gentleman he walked her through the garden explaining the turns and architecture to which she asked surprising questions.

If she
wasn’t one of his mother’s schemes he would have bedded her tonight. He totally avoided intimate contact with his mother’s schemes. Almost as if she sensed his need, she inched closer, letting their bodies have more contact. She could almost feel him battling for control. Her task was going to be easier than anticipated.

After circling round the garden, the pair headed towards the house. George was already envisioning the cold shower he would have to take that night. Damn! He could really use a soft body tonight.

“I picked something for you from the garden, a little thank you for giving me a tour,” Jennifer informed him at the door.

“Come on Jennifer, you don’t have to thank me. You are a guest, the tour is your right
,” he stiffly replied; silently praying his voice did not convey his horny state.

She batted her long lashes, “Too late for that, close your eyes. Let me hand it to you
,” she said in that singsong voice again. He had better get through with this this quickly and run for his room.

He closed his eyes, spread out his hands and waited. One
minute … nothing. She hadn’t really taken a good look at him prior to now. Better to look when he had his eyes shut. He was well built, not exactly muscular but solid the way she liked her man. “Put your hands down, keep your eyes closed she ordered.”

George obeyed. B
efore he could count up to a minute, soft lips landed on his. He opened one eye to peep and make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. Her lips tasted like strawberry. It reminded him of spring. Just when he opened up for some more, he found himself kissing the air.

Millicent had seen the kiss and quietly retreated to her abode. She was surprised at how fast things were progressing. George was always polite to the girls she introduced to him but he never gave any a second glance. This Jennifer definitely had moves. Hopefully, soon she was going to have grandchildren with a trace of blue blood. Jennifer wasn’t deceived by the respect some members of the Upper East Side accorded her. She knew it was superficial and only because of her son’s amassed wealth. Marriage into the Upper East Side was going to solidify that respect
and it would make them totally belong.

Jennifer was proud of herself, of how well she had pulled that off. That brief kiss had turned him on. “There’s more where that came from, baby
,” she thought aloud. Day one had been great, it was time to take a long luxurious shower whilst plotting day two.

***

A cold shower did George no good. His hands refused to leave his pyjamas pant. Thinking of that brief kiss earned him a hard on. He always hated to masturbate. A vagina was the best any day, any time, except maybe you were offered the shithole, which is much tighter and warmer. He could stake an arm for a vagina at this moment; he missed riding in one. The walls of the vagina were the best prison walls ever; they hold you firm when you need to be held and release you just in time after you had served your term. Best part is you don’t have to commit an actual crime to be imprisoned by the vagina.

His mom lived away from
nightlife. He couldn’t sneak out and quickly get some; neither could he call for company. Millicent abhorred commercial sex; sex should be without price, she claimed. A diamond ring or bracelets were just little tokens, not exactly a price. Masturbation would only stave off the desire for a while, saving the torment for some other day. Why did she kiss him and run off like that? A person should be bold enough to complete what they started. Had it been at a different place, he would have taught her a thing or two. She deserved to be fucked senseless.

Sleep eluded George that night. He lay in bed for over 30
minutes trying to drift off. A stiff drink could help, he thought to himself. His mom had a vast collection of fine drinks, drinks she never drank. Millicent treated wine like artefacts, more of a collector’s item than a utility item. He’ll certainly find one that would knock him out.

Shutting the door behind him very silently
, George proceeded to the bar. “Just a little fine wine to lift the spirit and silent a yelling penis," he thought to himself. Arousal did affect the eyesight, was the first thought that crept into George’s mind when he got to the bar and saw Jennifer sitting there having a quiet drink all alone.