Her Sweet Satisfaction: Billionaire Secrets - Book Two
Read Her Sweet Satisfaction: Billionaire Secrets - Book Two Online
Authors: Drew Sinclair
Her Sweet Satisfaction
The Billionaire Secrets Series - Volume Two
Copyright © 2014 by Drew Sinclair
First Printing, 2014
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously and any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
Published in the United States of America.
Table of Contents
Start Reading Her Sweet Satisfaction - Billionaire Secrets Vol Two
Sample Chapter: His Secret Request - Billionaire Secrets Vol Three
Her Sweet Surrender - Billionaire Secrets Vol Four
His Strict Requirement - Billionaire Secrets Vol Five
Her Sweet Liberation - Billionaire Secrets Vol Six
Billionaire Secrets - The Six Pack Edition
I bow down before those who have gone before me. I thank my discerning readership who make all of this craziness possible.
Cover Art by the stupendous Cali MacKay
Buy and read all her amazing books at:
The second shower Katy had in Clayton's house had to be the most relaxed and luxurious shower she had ever had in her whole life. Sure the shower was a fancy one but that had nothing to do with it - she could have been under a bucket with holes punched in it hanging from a rope and it would have felt like warm water from heaven.
The hottest man she had ever met had just rocked her world with a sexual experience that she wouldn't have dreamed up in her most private fantasy and according to him what they had just done was only an introduction to his world. Even the grumbling Angel outside didn’t trouble her anymore because all that mattered now was what Clayton wanted. There was only one top dog in the Hargrave world and that was the man himself. If Clayton wanted to be with her then who cared about his bad tempered bodyguard?
She finished drying herself off and returned to the bedroom. There was a fresh round of Peaberry Blue Mountain coffee waiting for her and three full sets of evening wear laid out on the bed. All three were tasteful and elegant, but she chose the one which was the most flowing, the most revealing and by far the most relaxed.
The choice of attire was totally unlike her and considering her current situation, wildly inappropriate.
I'm screwed anyway.
She thought.
Might as well have some fun.
She was half dressed when she realized her how many calls and messages had been left on her phone since she had ended her conversation with Suzy from her car in the woods. Several hours had passed and her friend, her only friend, must have been worried sick.
She grabbed the phone and sent a short text message to reassure her that she was okay.
'In safe place. Don't worry. Contact u soon.'
Her conscience eased a little, she continued dressing and then left the room to head down the hallway back to the main living area. Whatever happened tomorrow she could still enjoy tonight.
When she got to the living area Clayton was laying plates on the table. For a man who seemed so incredibly confident in everything he did, laying a table looked to be about the most awkward thing in the world.
"Need some help with that?" She said. He lifted his head and then stopped to look at her.
"Wow." He said. "I was hoping you would choose that dress but I couldn’t have guessed you would look so… so…"
She walked over to him and pushed his mouth shut with one fingertip.
"Don’t worry about it. I'm glad you like it. Now stop screwing around with these plates and let me help. You're obviously better at making billions of dollars than you are at entertaining."
He accepted the comment graciously.
"Well, maybe I do need some help. I might as well tell you that I know nothing about vegetarian food so I had my chef make something that I hope you'll like."
"I'm not a vegetarian."
"What?"
"You told me I should be honest with you. I'm not a vegetarian. I just said that before to be difficult."
"Great. Now we have to eat shrubs and berries because you wanted to be difficult. I hope this teaches you a lesson about being honest."
"I'm sure that whatever it is, it will be delicious. Why don’t you show me where everything is and we can serve it together?"
"Follow me." He said with a half smile.
Clayton didn’t seem to know where much was in his own kitchen so it was up to Katy to get things organized. After their experience together in her bedroom the scene in the kitchen was bizarrely domestic. They could have been young lovers on an awkward but flirtatious first date except that her host had already explored literally every inch of her body with just his fingertips and then pushed her into not one, not two but three soaking wet orgasms while he looked on in silence.
At last the table was laid and the meal was served. It looked surprisingly good to the two meat eaters but still, something seemed missing.
"Bon appétit." Clayton said and then gestured for her to begin.
She reached for her wine glass and took a sip. Maybe not a good idea considering her empty stomach but she still wasn’t in the mood for eating.
"Clayton… she began hesitantly. "I mean Mr. Hargrave--"
"Clayton is better. For most people I prefer Hargrave but Clayton sounds good on your lips. May I call you…" By your real name? He didn't say the words but she knew what he meant and shook her head. Not yet. It was still too soon.
"It's okay." He said quietly. "There's no hurry."
"Sure. Only twenty-four hours."
"Twenty-four hours? What are you talking about?"
Shit. That's Angel's thing, not Clayton's.
"Nothing. Forget about it."
"I don’t think so Ms. Maldon--"
"Call me Katy, at least call me by a first name."
"Okay, Katy. Tell me about the twenty-four hours and tell me the truth."
"I can't. You told me I could tell the truth but that if it was too difficult or complicated that I could say so, right? The terms of our agreement?"
He nodded, reluctantly.
"Well this is one of those truths. Now next question, and make it snappy because I can’t eat until I have this truth or dare crap out of the way."
"You're getting defensive again, but that's okay. It's normal and we can work with that. If you weren't a little protective I'd be disappointed. Defensive means you have something to hide and that it's close to the surface, just waiting to be revealed. Low hanging fruit so to speak. So let's just leave the twenty-four hours issue and move right along. First question, how old are you?"
It was a simple question but still it made her tighten up. Nobody asked her questions like that. Nobody had the right. It was personal, identifying, it constituted unnecessary digging under the surface.
She could pick her witness protection program age of 29 or her real age of 26….
"Next question." She said.
"I'm guessing about twenty-six years old." He said coolly.
"Shit." She hissed. "If you know everything about me already then why these dumb pretend questions? Why don’t you just tell me what you already know and then I can fill you in the gaps? It'd save time and I could eat this rabbit food already."
He took a deep breath and looked at her with impossible to read eyes, but still she could guess what he was thinking; 'more defensiveness, good, we're getting to the truth' or some crap like that.
"Your real name is Nadia Komerov. Am I right?" She wanted to slam the plate of vegetarian gunk into his face, as sexy as he was. Stay low. Stay clean. Leave no trace. What a joke that was now. Clayton calling her by her real name was more of a personal violation than being pinned down by the man while his fingers took a walk around her g-spot.
"Just nod your head if I'm correct." He said.
"You might as well be fucking me now." She hissed but he didn’t react, never blinked, never said a word.
"You are twenty-six years and one day old today."
She was breathing hard and could feel unpleasant emotions stirring.
"You were a prodigy, a genius if you will, who graduated from Caltech and MIT at the age of just seventeen years." He spoke slowly and watched her reaction to each new piece of information.
She nodded, just barely.
"Being so smart meant that you had very few friends." He waited, watching her with his deep, all encompassing brown eyes.
She nodded again.
"You took a high paying job at the age of eighteen with a company supplying military grade technology and software to the US government."
She nodded. The memories were unwelcome and had never been articulated by another person in over four years. In fact they had never been articulated like this at all.
"Your employer, Mikhail Boyevik is a brilliant man, a US citizen but originally a native of Moscow and formerly a giant in the world of international organized crime. While supplying technology to the US government he was also leaving his own technology behind with each delivery. Surveillance hardware, tagging devices built into the hardware and software of US military equipment."
Katy was breathing hard and fighting back tears.
"He was also selling information to the authorities in Russia and perhaps elsewhere but he hadn't counted on his brilliant young American employee with the Russian surname also having the courage and integrity to--"
"The stupidity and the naivety is what it was. Can we leave that one for now? I don’t want to talk about it anymore."
"We can leave it for now, but not forever. I think you'll agree with me that you're a dangerous woman to know, isn’t that right Katy?"
She nodded her head. He was taking a huge risk by having her here, especially in his position as another supplier of high tech equipment to the US government.
"It's still not too late for you to see sense." She said. "You don’t want me working for you. Trust me, you've had your fun now so why don't you just put me in a car with your goon Angel and tell him to drop me off in Mexico or Berlin or some damn place where I won’t cause harm to the people I love anymore."
"He's there whenever you need him Katy, just say the word."
She hesitated. It was so good here, so like a family home, something she had never really had. Her mom and her had shuffled from one shabby apartment to the next from as far back as she could remember. If those memories of her father were real she couldn’t even be sure. Maybe they were just a dream.
"Not yet." She said, remembering Angel's condition of at least twenty-four hours and giving Clayton
everything
he needed.
"I'm not finished with you yet." She said.
Clayton smiled. "I like the sound of that."
"Oh really? Well you better, because after what you put me through in there I'm due some pay back and you won’t know what hit you when I'm done with you."
"Is that a fact?" She tried to look serious as a playful grin hovered around his gorgeous lips. "I think you're bluffing Katy. But before we find out, I still need to know more about you."
Fuck.
She scowled.
Another face off in the bedroom would have been preferable to more prying and quizzing.
"We don’t need to talk about your confrontation with the Russian mafia anymore. Most if it is a matter for public record so I imagine the truth isn't very far from what the courts and the media have recorded. It's what happened after that that I'm curious about."
He waited for her reaction but she didn't move.
"You went into the Witness Security Program after your family was threatened. That was a little under four years ago, the day after your twenty-second birthday to be precise. About one year ago you moved to Maine to live like a recluse, leaving the program, and created a new identity with which to start a covert business in protecting people's electronic privacy. You use a combination of sophisticated technology gained through illegal dark net sources and software that you write and develop yourself."
Her head was dipped but her eyes turned upwards to look at him intently. Although she was wholly unaware of it the effect on Clayton was near excruciating. His sense of anticipation was at breaking point. The moment was coming when she would reveal to him one of her most personal and closely guarded secrets. This girl in a million, in a hundred million, with her incredible mind and her so very fuckable body was eating him alive with those huge green eyes and it felt like he was coming home at last. This was the one he had been looking for. This sexy little warrior of the mind was sinking fast and he would be the one to swoop in and save her and when he did she would be so, so ready for him - so eager to fuck him that maybe, just maybe it would be perfect this time.
"So why did you run from the Witness Security Program Nadia? Why not just stay with them and live a quiet life somewhere in the mid-west or wherever it was they sent you to live out your days?"
Katy stood up abruptly, jerking her chair backwards across the dining area floor and then pushed the table aside. Clayton remained in his chair, frozen in shock and anticipation, his heart racing. Katy put her hands on his shoulders and then proceeded to straddle him, settling herself down slowly onto the rock hard mound of his bulging cock struggling in his pants.
"Fuck…" he breathed out unsteadily.
"I told you not to call me by that name." She said with a wild look in her eyes and then worked herself harder down onto him. "I'll tell you what to call me." She pushed his head back and began to devour his strong neck and throat with her hungry lips. The feeling of turning things around on him was exquisite. He had used her body for his pleasure and now she would return the favor.
She pushed one hand down between them, looking for his zipper but in an instant he had lifted her up in his arms, his hands and forearms cradling her ass and pushing her against him, the loose, flowing garment she had selected to wear allowing full and easy access to her inner thighs, her pubic mound, her waiting pussy.
Soon she was on her back on the dining room table and their vegetarian meal was in pieces on the floor. The smooth wood of the table felt perfect on her back and ass. The contrasting sensations were delicious; the cool, flat, unyielding surface below her, the smoking hot, pulsating hardness of the man on top.
