Shades of Step Billionaire (2 page)

“Welcome to the city. You said you were new in town, how did you hear about us?” the stylish blonde Olivia sat across from asked.  She was wearing a tailored silk jacket with a matching skirt and typing into her computer. Olivia sat in a chair across from her desk and fidgeted with the strap on her purse.

“Thank you.  I just recently graduated from college and moved here. I found you online. I had no idea these types of places existed, but I just learned the other day that there were dating services that catered to particular
interests
, so did a search on the internet and found you,” she said looking around the dark paneled office.  The severe looking blonde smiled.

“Oh, yes.  We exist.  In fact, we are
quite
popular.” She looked Olivia over from head to toe. Olivia tensed, feeling her assessing eyes on her and she shifted slightly in her seat, smoothing an imaginary wrinkle out of the grey pencil skirt she wore.

“Based on your looks, I don’t think you’re going to have any trouble attracting interested candidates. Did you bring the enrollment fee?” she asked.

“Oh, yes,” Olivia said blushing.  She pulled an envelope from her purse and pushed it across the desk.  A sigh escaped from her lips as she looked at the envelope; she hoped it would be worth it.  She couldn’t stand dating anymore dullards who did nothing for her.  She needed, craved, the type of stimulation another aficionado of her type of interest, could provide.  If she had to spend a small fortune finding him through a dating service that catered to those types of individuals, then maybe it would be worth a try. Lord knows finding anyone decent at the local clubs didn’t pan out.  Some of those creeps were even dangerous.  At least the dating service screened everyone and offered a pretty high degree of protection. “Here it is,” she said, biting her lip. The money in the envelope was her entire savings. It wasn’t much, but that was all she had.  The blonde took it and examined the contents.

“I know it seems like a lot, but trust me, the men pay a
lot
more We get a lot more men to sign up for the service than women, so you should have no trouble finding someone who interests you,” she said. Olivia bit her lip.  She hoped what the woman said was true, but she was still a bit skeptical.  The blonde woman counted the money in the envelope.  “You’ll be happy you spent it once you find the right person who shares the same interests as you.  Especially when those interests are hard to come by,” she winked.

Olivia smiled weakly in return.  She hated sharing this side or herself so publicly, even if her privacy was guaranteed, it felt like she was revealing an awful lot of herself that she usually kept really well hidden.  The blonde put the envelope in a zippered leather bank pouch and then locked it in her desk.  She turned back to Olivia and folded her hands in front of her.

“Okay, let me go over what happens next. We’ll pick out a bachelor we think could be a good matches for you and you let us know if you would like to meet him.  If yes, we will send your information to him and he will then contact you through email.  All email will be through dummy accounts we set up.  No real names should be used, and no personally identifiable information should be exchanged.  That means no names, addresses, phone numbers or emails.  We want you to protect both parties identities until you both feel secure revealing that information to each other.  You will agree on a public place to meet and after that, you two will decide how much information to exchange. Is that understood?” she asked.  Olivia nodded, but furrowed her brow.

“What if I decide I don’t like him?”

“Then we will set you up with another candidate.  We find it works best to match people on an individual basis, rather than bombard you with multiple selections at once.  Does that make sense?” she asked.

Olivia nodded and smiled. She guessed it seemed like a reasonable way to do this.  She wondered how many ‘dates’ she would have to go on before she met someone suitable. 

“Good. All you have to do is wait for him to contact you.  Here is your dummy account information. Please only use it to correspond to potential matches,” she said as she pressed a card into Olivia’s hand.  Olivia took it and put it in her purse.  “He will go by the name Mr. King and you will be referred to as Ms. Prince.  Use those names when you meet out in public.” She couldn’t shake the butterflies that were loose in her stomach, warning her that she was doing something foolish. She brushed them aside.
I’m tired of waiting for the right guy to come along.  They always run away once they know what I really want…need.  This has to work.  I don’t know where else to go…

“Congratulations on signing up with Royal Interests Matchmaking.  I’m confident you’ll find your perfect match with us,” she said, holding out her hand.  Olivia shook it and stood, straightening her skirt.

“Yes, I hope so.  Thank you,” she said.  She felt awkward thanking a complete stranger for facilitating a match between herself and a man based on their shared sexual interests.  She marveled at the diverse services available to her in the city and tingled with excitement at the thought of finally meeting someone who could satisfy her.

“I think I’m going to like life in the big city,” she smiled.

3 Days later…

Jeremy Hamilton paused as he read the email from the dating service. 

Thank you for working with Royal Interests Matchmaking.

What the fuck am I doing?

He stared at the computer screen, and debated clicking on the enclosed link to see the match they sent him. He actually hated the idea of using a dating service, especially since he had no problems finding women.  Hell, they sought him out.  What he couldn’t find, though, was someone who shared his particular…interests. Someone who was able to give him what he needed.  The frustration was killing him.  He was too prominent to venture out to a club, and the women he did go out with could never take it as far as he wanted.  Eventually, they all left.  They couldn’t take the darkness, couldn’t handle what he had to give.  Despite the throngs of women he had at his disposal, he never found even one he could truly be himself with.  His finger hovered over the mouse as he debated opening the email. At least this way he’d know going in that she liked it, too.  He clicked.  A photo appeared, of a dark haired woman with full pouty lips, porcelain skin and attractive features.  Her form was also impressive; full ripe breasts and round curvy hips   He squinted as he took in the image. The email included a list of the woman’s preferences. As he read through the list of her desires and cravings, he realized they were complimentary to his.  As his dark eyes poured over the image of her form on his computer screen, his dick twitched. His smiled, she had his interest.  In a blink he imagined her bound and gagged and moaning his name in ecstasy. “Nice,” he whispered. He copied and pasted her email address and composed a brief communication.

Ms. Prince,

I received your information from Royal Interests Matchmaker.  Meet me at the Amaryllis restaurant, 14000 Pearl Street (Top floor of the Crown building). 8:00 pm Tuesday.

Reservations under Mr. King.

Jeremy sat back and proof read his email. After a final read, he paused and then clicked send.  He tried to dismiss it, but it was hard to ignore the uneasy feeling he had about using a fucking dating service. He could have any number of women, naked and blindfolded and in his bed, begging for him, but it wasn’t enough. He didn’t want someone who was simply going along with what he wanted to do.  He wanted a woman who craved submission as much as he needed to be dominant.  Someone who wasn’t going to run away the minute things got intense. He didn’t want to be with someone he had to push beyond their limits.  He wanted someone who needed her limits pushed. Someone who wanted it so much she was willing to sign up at a dating service to find a partner.  He wondered, looking at the curves of the sexy woman in the photo, if he might have just found her.

The next morning Jeremy pushed through the glass doors at his office.  A secretary sat below a sign with his name on it Hamilton Industries. She wore a prim navy blue suit with black reading glasses and gray hair pulled back into a severe bun. “Grace,” Jeremy greeted her with polite indifference as he approached her desk. Grace smiled and handed him a collection of messages.  He took them and headed down the hall to his private office.  As he reached his door, his phone chirped, alerting him of an incoming text. He entered the large office with sweeping views of the city, crossed over to his mahogany desk and set down his messages and briefcase. As he sat down he pulled his phone out of his pocket and glanced at the text.

Jeremy-

Your sister started her job in the city last week.  I asked her to get in touch with you.  Please make time in your schedule.  She’s new to the city and doesn’t know many people there.  It would mean a lot to me. Thanks.

-Dad

Fuck.

Jeremy tossed the phone onto his desk. 
She’s not my sister.  I don’t even know her.
He resented his dad forcing an artificial familial relationship on him. 
I don’t have time to play host to a school girl.
He wasn’t a fucking babysitter.  Let her take care of herself.  His mind drifted back to his family.  His father had married his stepmother when he was seventeen, almost an adult.  Her daughter was ten when they moved in.  He barely remembered her.  She was always a tiny wisp of a thing who was quiet and kept to herself.  He remembered her hair though. It was always a mass of tangles.  Jeremy had moved out at eighteen and had not been back since.  He had plans for himself and little time to give to the instant family his dad tried to create.  He resented the pressure to let these strangers into his life and pretend they were suddenly a family.  They weren’t.  Jeremy moved out and kept his distance, preferring instead to spend his time pursuing his career.  He devoted himself to it, and had amassed a fortune as a young investor which he then parlayed into billions. He loved working; it was what he valued most.  He didn’t have time for annoyances and especially not to play big brother to someone he didn’t know. His phone chirped again, pulling him out of his reverie.

Hi Jeremy,

I’m sorry to bother you.  Your dad told me to contact you once I was in town. Are you free sometime this week?  It would be nice to see you.

-Olivia

Guilt tinged him as he read her text.  He could tell she was afraid to bother him, and hesitant to make contact.  He sighed. He didn’t mean to be a dick.  It wasn’t her fault…but he really didn’t like to force a relationship when there was none.  What’s the point? “Shit,” he grumbled.  He stared at the text for a moment, deciding what to do.  If he blew her off, his dad would just nag him more.  Better to meet with her briefly and then send her on her way.  He exhaled and punched at his phone.

“Olivia-

I’m free a week from Thursday for dinner.  Meet me at La Belle restaurant in the Plaza building. 7:00 pm.

-Jeremy

He couldn’t blow her off completely, but at least he could push her out for a week.  He chose the restaurant in his own building to minimize the travel time. He could be done with dinner and back home before the night was even over. He hoped he could keep it short.

The next day was a blur, and lingering resentment about the obligatory dinner he had scheduled with his stepsister faded as he focused instead on work, and the upcoming date he had with Ms. Prince. At the end of the day as he shut down his computer, he impulsively clicked on her picture again from the dating service. He definitely found her to be attractive, he just had to see if they got along, and gauge whether or not she would be able to handle him. Not many women could, at least not long term. He stared at her picture again, contemplating. The fact that she was willing to seek out someone like him was definitely promising. 

Tuesday night Jeremy got off the elevator on the top floor of the Crown building and headed to the lobby of the restaurant Amaryllis.  The Crown building was a new acquisition for Jeremy, who had recently branched out into corporate real estate. Having made so much of his money in online ventures and financial investments, it was nice to own something tangible. He had since bought several buildings and hotels in the area, including the building he lived in.

He glanced at his watch and grimaced when he saw he was already five minutes late. He strode directly over to the maître d. “Reservation for Mr. King,” he said. Jeremy kept a low profile, and was glad the staff didn’t know who he was, making it possible for him to use the alias Mr. King without worrying anyone would recognize him. The maître d checked his book and then smiled broadly.

“Ah, yes your party has already arrived. Please follow me to your table,” he said, holding his arm out to direct him to the dining room. It was a modern open area.  Large windows lined the walls and provided a stunning view of the city.  Linen covered tables dotted the room and a large mahogany bar sat off to the side. Jeremy followed as they wove through a sea of patrons, thinking how ironic it was that he was meeting someone in such a refined elegant atmosphere for the express purpose of exploring their sexual desires. It felt depraved, yet exhilarating.   Just the thought of that alone was enough to make his dick stiffen under his suit coat.  The maître d slowed as they approached a table in the center of the room.  A woman sat in profile to him, he was glad to get a glimpse of her before she saw him.   She had brown hair that tumbled in curls over her shoulder. In an instant he wondered what all that hair would look like splayed over a pillow.  She wore a red dress that wrapped around her body, showing off voluptuous curves and accentuating a flat narrow waist. A thin string tied in a bow fastened the dress at the side. He smiled at that and imagined pulling on that string would feel like unwrapping a lovely present. She turned as he approached and he caught a view of her in profile.  She was striking.   Her look was definitely unique, and he was a great admirer or rare beauty.

“Ms. Prince,” he smiled down at her at the table and held out his hand.

“Mr. King,” she replied. Jeremy focused his eyes on her in as he sat down.  She had bright blue eyes, full pouty lips and delicate features. She looked even better than her photograph.

My God,
she’s
beautiful.

The moment he saw her he knew he wanted her; wanted to see her shaking under his touch, trembling at his command. When their eyes met he made a vow to himself, a secret goal. He knew before the night was through he was going to make her come.

The secret reason for their meeting was already getting to Jeremy and he felt a rush of heat swell within him.  He shook her hand and leaned in to kiss her on the cheek.  As he did so, a bouquet of fragrance hit him. He inhaled, drawing in the intoxicating mix of jasmine, rose and gardenia. It was a heady moment, charged with promise and electricity, but he couldn’t get side tracked by her beauty alone.  He had been with many beautiful women; beautiful women who ultimately couldn’t satisfy him.  He needed to be discerning. He stiffened his spine as he sat and shifted his attention to the task at hand, getting to know each other better.

“So, Ms. Prince, I got an email reminding us that we’re under strict instructions to leave out personal information at this meeting-we can’t talk about our work or ourselves in too much detail.  If we decide to move forward after this point it is up to our discretion when and how much personal information we disclose. Olivia smiled.  “Okay, so what should we talk about?” she asked. Jeremy smiled. “I think we’re supposed to talk about our kinks.”