Billionaire Romance Boxed Set (9 Book Bundle) (99 page)

“No,” I said. “I know. We
won’t. Just a little more and we’ll stop.”

He stuffed himself into me and ground his cock inside
me, rolling his hips. I squeezed him hard, with my arms and my pussy, and
lifted my head to kiss his throat.

Asher closed his eyes and thrust into me again and
again. He refused to look at me, wouldn’t open his eyes, but wouldn’t
stop moving his hips either, taking me roughly on the floor.

“Asher,” I said. It felt so good, I
wanted him so badly, and yet I couldn’t stand him not looking at me.
“Am I not sexy? Please, I’m sorry.”

His eyes snapped open. He stared at me hard. Up
close, so close, I thought I could almost see thunderclouds in his sky blue
eyes.

“Jessika,” he said. “Stay
still. Don’t move.”

I didn’t understand at first, but I tried not to
move. It was impossible, though. I bit my lower lip as he slammed
hard into me, sliding me a few inches across the carpet.

“Jessika, I’m trying to take your picture,”
he said through gritted teeth. “I need you to keep your pose.”

“Yes,” I said, a lusty gasp.
“Yes, I’m trying. Take my picture.”

“This is so sexy,” he said. “You’re
so sexy.”

“I love you,” I said, barely a
whisper. I didn’t mean to, and I didn’t know what I was thinking, but I
said it.

Asher went wild. If he heard me, I didn’t know,
but whatever had come over him made him crazy. He crashed into me, his
cock slamming hard and fast into my pussy. I squeezed against him, unable
to stop myself, feeling him bringing me closer and closer to climax. The
fabric of his shirt bunched up and grazed against my stomach and my clit with
each of his thrusts, exciting me even more. He grabbed my waist and held
me tight, pulling my body towards him as he pushed into me.

My orgasm overtook me and I screamed out loud.
Writhing and squirming beneath him, I wriggled on the rug, feeling the shaggy
texture of it, warm against my back, while Asher’s hot, clothed body heated me
in the front. My breasts bounced as I climaxed hard on his cock and my
body tensed, muscles squeezing, squeezing. I grabbed him with my hands
and my back arched, stomach taut, my legs pulling at his lower body. My
pussy clenched like a smooth, velvet vice around his cock.

Asher finished, letting out a grunt, pushing himself
as far into me as he could while pressing his body against mine. His cock
twitched inside me, flared, stretching my pussy, and then his cum surged out of
him and into me. Once, twice, three thick jets. Then smaller
twitches, a few more, uncountable. My climax continued as he unloaded a
substantial amount of his cream inside me and I grew even more hot and excited
when I felt it. He filled me. I hadn’t had sex in awhile, hadn’t
expected it for awhile still, but this was so wonderfully satisfying.

We lay there together, him on top of me while I
squeezed his softening cock inside of me. I was finished with my orgasm,
but I liked the way he felt in me, so nice and a perfect fit. I held him
tight, hugged him, kissed his cheek, and…

Asher got up. He removed himself from my grip,
placed my hands firmly on the ground, and pulled himself out of me.
Standing, putting his softening erection back in his pants, he zipped himself
up, buttoned his pants, and searched around for his belt.

“Asher?” I said, confused. “It’s
alright. Can we lay here for a little while?”

“No,” he said.

“Asher…”

“I shouldn’t have done that, Jessika. I
took things too far. That was extremely unprofessional of me. I
don’t know what I’m going to tell Beatrice. I don’t know if I can tell
her. This entire day was a bad idea.” He paced through his
guest house living room, looking distraught.

I frantically tried to think of something to say or
do, but I couldn’t. He had a point in everything he said. We
shouldn’t have done this. I knew it was a bad idea. A married
man? Why would I even do that? Why was I here in the first place?
What was I doing?

And then I remembered.

“Yes,” I said, a whisper, unsure if this was
what I should do or not. “Asher, I’ll do it. What you asked,
your request. I agree. Just… please…”

“What?” He stopped pacing and looked
at me.

“I’ll be an egg donor for your wife,” I
said, then added, “And a surrogate mother. I’ll do it.”

He smiled, happy, but only for a second. Then
the reality of what had happened and what we’d just done came crashing back
down on him again.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” he
said. “We can’t… we can’t do this again, Jessika, and the
temptation will always be there, especially…”

Especially, I thought, if I were already pregnant with
his child. Through medical means, the impregnation process, however that
would work for the situation he required, but still. If I carried his
child, even if it was for him and his wife, I knew it would be easier for both
of us to explain away another casual encounter like this.

Except that wasn’t my reason for agreeing. I
didn’t know how to tell him that, couldn’t explain it all myself, but that
wasn’t what I wanted. I didn’t want anything casual with him, ever.
I wanted more, anything. Intimacy and conversation and… but I’d ruined
it in one fell swoop.

“Asher, please.”

“You can stay in the guest house tonight,”
he said. “I’ll have Jeremy drive you home in the morning.”

His Absolute Orders

*

A Reverie Interlude

Asher and I, sitting on a park bench. A quaint
tablecloth, with a spread of sandwiches, potato salad, and sliced, raw
vegetables are between us. I tease him and toss a slice of cucumber at
him. It clings to the fabric of his fancy dress shirt, then falls into
his lap. He threatens to throw a spoonful of potato salad at me and I
shriek and laugh and tell him he wouldn’t dare. We’re both laughing.

Our daughter, our beautiful daughter, comes running
up. She was playing on the swings as we watched over her from the
bench. She politely asks her daddy if she can please have a baby
carrot. He smiles at her, so sweet and calm, holds up the tray with the
carrots so she can have her pick.

Idyllic. Everything nice and wonderful.

And then I woke up.

…

Asher left me after our photography session. I
don’t think he expected it to go as far as it did, and to be honest I never
expected it to, either. When I agreed to join him for lunch, I didn’t
expect to come back to his home afterwards and do anything, let alone become
the model for an impromptu photo shoot. I didn’t expect to take off my
clothing and pose in scandalous positions for him, nor did I expect to concoct
some ridiculous idea of seduction and convince him that it was fine.

In fact, it wasn’t fine. Because of that,
because of what I’d done, I’d lost him forever. I’d never had him to
begin with, and I knew he was a married man, but I wanted so desperately to
believe in something. To believe that he had a rocky marriage of
convenience and he wanted me, maybe that he could love me. Except, how?

I had known Asher for two days. This morning was
the start of the third day. The first had been a short, though thorough
meeting, and the second was our first somewhat full day together. This
third day was our last, and after that I would never see him again. I’d
played at a game of temptations and now I was paying the price for losing.

It was so wonderful, though! I could see why
Asher enjoyed photography. Or, I didn’t quite understand it, but I saw
how much he got into it. I hadn’t meant to, not exactly, but I became so
swept up in his passion for his hobby that I wanted and needed more. In
the end, without thinking, both of us had sex on the floor in front of the
fireplace in his guest house. Why did I think this might lead to
something more? Honestly, right now I couldn’t have answered.

It led to nothing, though. Asher told me to
leave. I lay on the floor, having slept there overnight, waiting.
Before he left, he told me that Jeremy would bring me home in the
morning. It was morning now, but no one had come for me yet. When
he did, I wasn’t sure what I should do.

I was naked still, laying on his lush carpet.
I’d borrowed a quilted down blanket from the back of the couch nearby to keep
me warm through the night and provide a moderate amount of cover, but who was I
kidding? If Jeremy walked in right now, he’d know what happened.
And then what? Did I want him to know? Maybe Asher did this
often. Maybe he seduced women, convinced them of one thing or another,
lured them to his home under the guise of modeling for his photography, and
slept with them. Then, after, he kicked them out. It seemed like a
typical thing for a man to do. It had never happened to me before, but I
had friends who went through similar situations.

But, why? I asked myself this question over and
over again. What was wrong? Why did he want me gone? His
marriage, yes, but he must have wanted it, too, must have wanted to sleep with
me. His photography wasn’t of the needlessly erotic sort, at least as far
as he mentioned, but the pictures he took of me were racy enough to show up in
any men’s magazine. Though, of course I didn’t quite think I was
attractive enough to pull something like that off, but Asher did. Or, he
said he thought I was. I needed to remind myself that there was a big
difference between what someone said and what someone actually thought.

I needed to do a lot of things, and yet in the warm,
morning light, a hint of sunshine tingling across my bare forearm as it peeked
out from beneath the blanket, I couldn’t think of any of them. I wanted
to lay there all day and forget everything. I wanted to remember last
night with Asher, to relive it, to memorize every part of it so I would never
forget.

My body shifted beneath the blanket, fidgeting.
Everything felt so nice. The carpet tickling across my skin and the feel
of the quilted blanket caressing across my stomach and the tops of my thighs
and between them and on my breasts. Without thinking about it, I let my
hand nestle between my legs and tease at my lower lips. When I realized
what I was doing, I also realized I was aroused.

I wanted to masturbate so much. Actually, I
wanted Asher to return, apologize, whisper adorations into my ear and beg for
my forgiveness, then take me again right then and there in his guest house, but
I knew that wouldn’t happen. I thought of it, though. More and
more, how he would touch me, what it would feel like. The expression on
his face and the love in his eyes. My body tensing under his exquisite
touch.

Right now my body tensed under my own touch, but it
wasn’t quite the same.

Knock, knock, knock.

Too wrapped up in my fantasy, I didn’t hear the person
knocking on the door. My fantasy unraveled as I built myself up to a
hasty climax and let the feeling of it drift over me like a light, summer
breeze.

Knock, knock, knock.

The second time they knocked, I had a delayed reaction.
I lay there, still and calm, delighting in the wonderful feeling of ignoring
all my problems. But, then, the knocking. Someone was at the
door. My God! I was naked, hidden under a blanket, with my clothes
scattered on the floor. I panicked and jumped up, dressing as fast as I
could.

…

What was he doing? What had he done?

Asher didn’t know. Out of all his years of
marriage, he hadn’t even entertained the thought of cheating on his wife.
Beatrice wasn’t unfaithful to him, either; at least as far as he knew.
They rarely saw each other now, only in passing for a few days of the month
when she returned from her trips. This bothered him, but what was he
supposed to do about it?

The answer, he knew, was not to cheat on his wife.

Should he tell her? He had to. It was the
only option, despite the fact that he dreaded it. And, then what?
Divorce? Or not? Would she care?

He loved Beatrice and he wanted the best for
her. But, he wasn’t in love with her. Actually, at the moment, he
had no idea what he was. Loved, in love, loved by someone, absolutely
abhorred by everyone? They all seemed about the same right now.

Jessika had him completely undone in only
moments. He hadn’t expected that. What little he knew of her, he
thought he’d understood, but apparently not. With only a few simple
actions, a couple of fairly innocent seeming moves, she’d lured him towards
completely giving in to temptation. Though, in all honesty, he doubted
she did it on purpose. She’d seemed… confused?

Asher didn’t blame her for anything that
happened. He was a grown adult, a powerful businessman, and he knew to
take responsibility for his actions. After their time in the car, driven
home by his driver, Jeremy, he knew he needed to be careful around her.
And, yet, when everything came crashing down, he lost himself.

But, God, she was so attractive. He couldn’t
place why, but he knew it when he saw it. The curve of her hips and the
way she squirmed on the carpet in his guest house. She seemed so out of
place and unresisting, knowing nothing of what she should do but doing it
because he asked it of her. Her skin, her touch; she felt soft and
delicate and unsure but wanting to try more for his sake.

Beatrice was none of that. And, Asher never
expected her to be. It wasn’t her and he didn’t want her to be something
she wasn’t. He understood that, and thought he’d accepted it, but with
Jessika…

Jessika was something else entirely, and he couldn’t
deal with her. Despite everything, no matter what he felt or thought, he
had obligations. It was morning now and he needed to attend to business
matters, but he would write up a letter of apology and send her a gift sometime
later, then be done with her. Jeremy would drive her home after he left,
and Asher would never see her again.

It wasn’t what he wanted, but it was what he needed to
do.

…

I sat at the two-person island table by the
kitchenette in Asher Landseer’s guest house, watching Jeremy cook. He’d
said he wasn’t anything special in the kitchen, but after watching him for
awhile I disagreed.

“The thing is,” Jeremy said while constantly
stirring a pan of eggs, “Asher probably doesn’t know what he wants half
the time. You should see his library in the main house. It’s full
of every kind of book you could imagine, and whenever I see him in there he’s
reading something entirely different. Epic fantasy novels, classic
science fiction, historical romance, mystery thrillers, action and adventure,
and whatever else. He probably reads more than that, too. Who knows
what’s on his Kindle, Nook, Kobo eReader, and his iPad? Why’s he need all
of those? I have no idea.”

“Maybe he uses them to categorize his
books?” I offered. “Like, he puts different genres on
each? Fantasy and science fiction on the Kindle, and Romance on the Nook,
then literary fiction on the Kobo, and everything else on the iPad?”

“Huh.” Jeremy chuckled and tossed me a
smile over his shoulder. “Maybe. I never would have thought of
that. That’s not a bad idea, though. Seems like something Asher
would do.”

I smiled; back at Jeremy and to myself. It
wasn’t the same, but I felt like I was getting to know Asher in some
sense. Through secondhand sources, alternate information, but I liked
it. I wanted to know more about him and I hoped maybe this would give me
a way to reconcile with him.

All of a sudden, everything happened at once.
The toaster popped, perfectly browned toast waiting to be plucked out. A
timer on the miniature rotisserie oven started beeping, soft but sure.
And Jeremy nodded and said, “Yup,” while glancing at the scrambled
eggs in his pan. He scooped half the eggs onto a waiting plate, dashed
for the fridge, grabbed a container, then a spoon from a drawer nearby, this,
that, and the next thing.

When all was said and done, I had a plate in front of
me consisting of scrambled eggs mixed with a dollop of some kind of thick
cream, a pair of sausages, and two pieces of buttered toast.

“Wow,” I said, staring at the food.
“Looks good.”

“Pft!” Despite his assumed modesty,
Jeremy grinned, cocksure. “Nothing too fancy.”

“What’s this in the eggs?” I asked.

“Ah, a trade secret. I can teach you
sometime…” He paused, frowning. “Well, I can’t actually
teach you it sometime, I guess, but it’s crème fraiche. You can buy it
most anywhere, but you have to know where to look.”

I nibbled on the eggs, using my fork to scoop a bit of
them into my mouth. “What did you mean?” I asked.

Between a heaping mouthful of his own scrambled eggs,
he managed to say, “Wha?”

“What did you mean you can’t actually teach me
it?”

“Ah, well…” Jeremy stuffed some
toast into his mouth, chewing loudly. Not, I thought, because he did this
usually, but because he didn’t know what to say. Honestly? It was
something I probably would have done, too.

“The thing is,” Jeremy said. “I
don’t know exactly what went on between you two. Business, whatever, who
knows? I can guess, but why bother? Anyways, Asher told me to drive
you home this morning. He’s off doing business things right now, whatever
that is, and he told me to make sure I bring you home once he’s gone.
Also, he said to ask about things you like, since he wants to send you a gift
basket. But, and this sounds like a nice thing at first even if it’s not,
Asher doesn’t typically send gift baskets to people. He only does it when
he plans to cut ties with someone, as he says. He didn’t
say
that
to me about you, but that’s what he does.”

I paused mid-chew, then swallowed the rest of the
toast in my mouth without thinking. It scraped down my throat, choking
me, until I swallowed harder and drank some of the water from my glass,
too. Eyes watering slightly, I looked at Jeremy, my expression blank.

“Is that it, then?” I asked.
“I…” I didn’t know what to think, but it seemed so definitive
and done. I knew it was going to happen, but it still hurt to hear
it. “Does he do this often? Bring women home and then ‘cut
ties’ with them afterwards?”

“Look,” Jeremy said. “No.
No, he doesn’t. And if that’s what happened, it’s not my place to pry
about it, either. Asher’s a nice guy, though. From everything I
know about him, I wouldn’t think he’d ever do something like that. So,
going off that, it would be
you
who caused the issue, if you get what I
mean?”