Taken By The Billionaire Read online

  “What condition, Mister Taylor?”

  “I don’t want to go into that just now. I haven’t fully thought it through myself. But I’ll tell you something, you’ve struck me in a way that’s got me thinking, Kylie. So what do you say, dinner?”

  Of course, Kylie agreed, she just didn’t know what else I had in mind. I needed time to work on her, to get to know her better before I laid all my cards on the table.

  ***

  I stared in admiration when Kylie walked into the restaurant. The girl looked gorgeous in a scoop-necked dress that hinted at her body beneath. In contrast to the slutty style of her sister, who flashed as much flesh as it was legal to expose, Kylie possessed grace and style that went some way towards reassuring me that, if she agreed to the condition, she might just pull off the coup she desperately wanted.

  When I stood to greet her I noticed the appreciative glances of the male customers and staff as Kylie walked towards me.

  Yeah, guys. Look at her. Aren’t you green with envy?

  “You look fantastic!” I said with genuine enthusiasm as I pressed a gentle kiss against Kylie’s cheek. I caught a waft of her scent and felt a stirring in my cock but somehow resisted the temptation to put my hands all over her.

  Well aware of my pulsing cock, and so aroused I experienced a reckless urge to take Kylie into the bathroom and fuck her in one of the stalls, I said, “When you burst into my office you looked like the girl next door, now look at you. Fuck, you look hot.”

  Kylie blushed a pretty pink as she accepted the compliment with a gracious smile.

  She settled onto the chair opposite and appraised me with a frank gaze across the short gap between us. “So,” Kylie began, “Is this some kind of casting-couch deal?”

  Bold with a primitive flare of desire I went on the offensive immediately. “If it was, Kylie,” I replied, pouring wine into her glass. “Would that be such a bad thing?”

  The atmosphere between us crackled, charged with the insinuation in my question; I knew Kylie felt the same spark when I saw her eyelids flicker for a moment, and although she masked her emotions quickly, lifting the wine glass to her lips and sipping at the expensive red wine I’d chosen, I saw her hand trembling.

  “I … I couldn’t do that, Mister Taylor,” she replied, her eyes sliding from my stare.

  “Really?” I murmured, and casually laid my hand on the table within an inch of her fingers.

  Kylie flinched and stared at the back of my hand like it was some kind of predator about to attack her tender flesh. I saw the vein in the girl’s throat throb with life, and I felt the elemental urge of lust for her I’d experienced in my office while I imagined pressing my lips against that flutter in Kylie’s neck. I also noticed that although she’d flinched she let her hand remain near mine.

  Kylie looked into my face, her eyes searching. “I don’t know you, Mister Taylor,” she whispered. “And, after Rafe—”

  “—Rafe is an idiot for falling for Jenny’s crap,” I interjected forcefully. “I can tell you now, Kylie, whatever happens, that bloke will regret losing you. I can see you’re special.”

  Kylie, as I’d noticed in my office, could switch personalities in a heartbeat, shifting from modest and almost shy to near belligerence quickly. “You’re just saying that so I’ll sleep with you,” she accused acidly, lifting the glass from the table and taking a sip.

  “Maybe, maybe not,” I replied, looking directly at her. “But I wouldn’t mess you around. I know how you feel, Kylie. I’ve had a few romantic knocks in my time. I lost a woman once,” I confessed, my voice appropriately sombre. “Not my wife, Marianne, I don’t mean that cheating bitch, I mean someone else from way back, and I’ll regret how I treated her for the rest of my life. I was an arsehole and deserved everything I got.”

  “I want to know more about that story sometime later. How did you know I’d like this wine?” Kylie asked, wrong-footing me yet again.

  Irritation at Kylie’s apparent indifference at my deeply personal revelation soured my mood, and

  I shrugged and lifted my hand from the table as I leaned back in the chair to sip my own wine.

  “I didn’t know you’d like it, Kylie. I chose it because I like it.”

  “You’re pretty damned confident, aren’t you Mister Taylor, to just assume like that.”

  “Don’t you like a confident man, Kylie?” I countered, and leaned in suddenly to bring my face a few inches from hers. With resentment still curdling my guts I spat the words, “I’m confident enough to knock back your sister if she came on to me. I wouldn’t cheat on you like that arsehole, Rafe – what kind of name is that for a man, anyway?”

  Our gazes locked, and for a moment I thought I’d gone too far. She might hate the man’s guts but she probably still loved him, which would only make the pain worse. A tiny muscle worked in Kylie’s jaw, and I saw she had half a mind to slap my face. A smack across the chops would have been worth it to see that level of passion blazing in her eyes.

  We were close enough to kiss, and maybe I should have kissed her then, just taken hold of her face with both hands and done it.

  All the while our eyes fought their battle, long seconds ticking by, neither one of us willing to back down. I imagined the taste of her mouth; I could see myself kissing the pale lip-gloss from those glistening lips.

  In the end it was Kylie who succumbed, blinking and looking away.

  And at that moment I desired her as much as I’d ever wanted Stella.

  I want your body; I want your mind; I will have you, Kylie Clark.

  With Kylie’s intense gaze broken I slumped back and plucked the wine glass from the table. Draining it in one gulp to calm my trembling hands I scanned the restaurant. My belligerent stare caused other diners to look quickly away. Hell, I wanted to push the cutlery and crockery off the table, to sweep it clean so I could lay her across it and take her right there and then regardless of the gawking onlookers.

  In my head I pictured Kylie exposed to me, her body pouting, slick with her arousal as she stared at the length of me ardent with yearning. Gripping myself with one hand I aimed at her opening and thrust into her. Kylie’s body clenched around my girth as she cried out, gasping when her spongy softness opened to accommodate me.

  As I imagined the scene I saw myself reach for her hair and, with just enough force to make her gasp, I twisted a fist through it and pulled her towards my face.

  “Kiss me,” I growled, forcing my mouth over hers. “Kiss me while we fuck.”

  “Yes,” she breathed in reply. “Anything for you, Damien. “I’m yours. Do anything you want with me.”

  Then I heard the real Kylie’s voice. “He hurt me so much,” she said, her chin and bottom lip wobbling. “It’s torn our family apart. My dad is so upset, he just wants us all to get along, but I can’t forgive either of them for what they did.”

  “Hey,” I offered, full of sympathy for Kylie’s heartache. “Forget about all that. We’re here to make a deal. You want the role and I’m warming to the idea. I like what I’ve seen of you, Kylie. I meant it when you walked in here tonight. You’re a knockout. You’ve got guts too. And you know, I’ve been watching you talk and I just think…you might tell me I’m full of shit but I think I just might reconsider my previous statement on not casting you in that role. I mean you’ll still have to audition but I think I’d be open to considering it at least.”

  “Oh. My. God. Really?”

  The tremor in Kylie’s chin ceased immediately. Instead she stared at me with slack-jawed amazement.

  “That’s a really attractive look, Kylie,” I grinned, pointing towards her hanging chin. “In England we call that gormless.” I mimed a village idiot look just like hers and laughed. Then, suddenly serious I dropped the bombshell. “Like I said, you still have to audition. But if you audition and you do get through… you get the part on one condition.” I leaned in again for emphasis, my voice dropping to a low tone. “We enter a contract. The shootin
g takes place in Paris. The shooting will go on as normal but every night when the work is done you spend the night with me. Nobody else. Only me.”

  Kylie blinked and I thought her mouth was going to drop open again. “I can’t do that,” she stammered, her face flushed. “I’m not like that, Mister Taylor. And after Rafe, I …”

  Sneering when I spoke his name, I asked, “Did Rafe ruin you for other men? Was he so great in bed?”

  Kylie’s blush deepened. Embarrassment or anger, I wasn’t too sure which. “Please, Mister Taylor. Don’t speak like that.” She cast an anxious glance about the restaurant. “I don’t know what you think I am, but I’m not the same as Jenny. I’m not some man-hungry slut who sleeps around.”

  “And I don’t think you are. That’s part of your appeal, for me anyway. I don’t know why myself, not really, but from almost the first moment I saw you I’ve wanted you. Sure,” I shrugged, “it’s partly sexual. I’m a highly-sexed bloke and you’re a feisty, highly desirable woman.” My gaze raked across the scooped neck of Kylie’s dress. “Of course there’s sex.” I leaned forward and grabbed both Kylie’s hands, our first physical contact other than the kiss on her cheek earlier. “But there’s more, Kylie. I’m hungry for you. I want to experience all of you – your body and your mind. Sure, I could fuck any number of stunningly beautiful women, but that’s just one level, nothing but satisfying a need like eating when you’re hungry. What I feel for you goes way deeper than that.”

  “I still couldn’t do it, Mister Taylor. Please, I’ll do anything else. Be reasonable.”

  I had to break her, had to make her change her mind. She would submit to my will.

  “Was he good?” I asked.

  “What? Who?” Kylie responded, puzzled.

  I let the silence balloon between us. Oh, there was muted conversation and tinkles of cutlery around us, but we were enveloped by our own bubble of total quiet while we locked gazes again.

  Kylie heaved a weary sigh. “Rafe,” she murmured. “You’re talking about Rafe and me in bed, aren’t you?”

  “Did Rafe ever tell you he wanted you while you were sat in a restaurant? I mean like we are now. Did he whisper in your ear how badly he wanted you? So much that he could just take you even with all these other people watching? Do you ever think about being watched, Kylie?”

  All I got in response was a mute stare.

  “What I’d do, Kylie, is I’d tell you to take off your knickers, your panties I mean, and then sit there, right there in that chair and open your legs so I could see you. See that part of you exposed. I’d get you to hike up your dress so that from the waist down your all naked and vulnerable to my whim.

  “Does the thought of that turn you on, Kylie? It does me. I’m rock hard right now just picturing us together. That’s just one thing, one game I’ll play with you. We could go to the bathroom right this second. Would that turn you on? That and the fact we might get caught any time. Just think of watching your reflection in the mirror; so hot. Just imagine the thrill of that risk. Of being caught.

  “There’s a hell of a lot of trust involved in the games I’d play with you. You’d have to trust me. But I’d look after you too. Could you trust Rafe enough to take risks with him in public places? I’d say that since he betrayed you in such a nasty way that you definitely couldn’t have trusted him. He’d have run and left you to take whatever came your way. I’d never do that, Kylie; I’d look after you.

  “Don’t you have fantasies like that? Putting yourself out there knowing you have a man you can depend on. It would be a thrill, such a rush. In Paris I’ll take you to places nobody knows us and get you to take risks that will make your cheeks burn.

  “I’m so hard for you right now, Kylie, and I might just take it out under the table here and let you watch as I stroke it.

  “Did Rafe ever say things like that, Kylie?

  “Would Rafe make you sit on an old ladder-backed chair with your wrists bound behind your back while he slowly teased you with his fingers and mouth? I’m talking about kissing your neck and stroking your breasts and finding the places on your body that make you squirm while someone, me, explores you.”

  Kylie rose to her feet. “Thanks for your time, Mister Taylor. Thanks for the dinner and the wine. And thank you for your offer, but no, I won’t sleep with you.”

  I hate the F-word – Failure – and I sure as fuck couldn’t stand to fail with this girl. What I hoped then was that I’d said something that struck a chord with Kylie, and that I’d made her tingle with the possibilities.

  Perhaps I’d overdone it, and even if Kylie had been turned on by the ideas I’d laid out there then social conditioning would have prompted her reaction.

  Did she entertain any of the kinds of fantasies I’d so graphically painted? Did she have a penchant for something different, something I hadn’t mentioned, or maybe she is just as vanilla as they made them?

  Kylie hesitated. I saw the abject look crease her face and knew I’d played my ace card in reminding Kylie of the reason she’d sought me out in the first place.

  “Sit down,” I said brusquely.

  The girl hesitated again. If she left the chances were I’d probably blown it. I could go after her but that isn’t my style. If she sat back down maybe I had another chance.

  “Come on, Kylie. Talk to me.”

  She made a move as though to leave, stopped and then cast an anxious look around at the other diners.

  “Thank you,” I breathed when she slid back onto her chair.

  “Well?” she said, avoiding my eyes.

  “Look, I’m sorry. Maybe I went too far. I just haven’t felt a pull this strong for a long time. Hell, I’m giving you what you want. You get the part. It’s your chance. Would the two of us together be so bad? Don’t you find me at least a little attractive?”

  Kylie flicked a glance my way. “It isn’t that,” she responded as she picked at the label on the wine bottle with a painted fingernail. “I mean, yeah, you’re quite good-looking.” Kylie shrugged as though to concede an off-hand point. “And you look in good shape.” She rolled her eyes and said, “And yeah, yeah I’ve read the gossip about how big you’re supposed to be and what a studly-good-fuck you are—”

  Incredulous, I interrupted her. “—Studly-good-fuck? What the fuck! Who wrote that about me?”

  “Whatever,” Kylie responded. She actually smirked and snorted. “So you’re all that, and rich and powerful to boot. But I won’t let myself be … used like that, Mister Taylor.”

  “I won’t use you, Kylie,” I said as I reached for the fingers that still picked at the label. “When I say you only sleep with me, I meant that as a reciprocal deal. Yeah, I admit there was a time when I would’ve fucked the crack of dawn if it were possible. But after what I did to Stella and what Marianne did to me, and especially since you’re so fragile at the moment, I wouldn’t do that to you. I know the pain of loss and I just wouldn’t do it.”

  I sensed the girl was teetering when she murmured, “Really?” her eyes huge with the question.

  “I’m a man of my word, Kylie. Take that to the fucking bank.” I squeezed her hand gently and she looked into my face. “Tell me you didn’t fancy me when you saw me in the office today. Tell me that you don’t feel something too.”

  Her eyes continued to search mine as the shroud of silence descended around us again. Kylie nodded, almost imperceptibly, but there was a nod.

  “I’ll admit that I’m attracted to you Mister Taylor.”

  “And what about the stuff I said earlier. Did he ever do anything like I described?”

  “I don’t want to talk about me and Rafe.”

  “I meant what I said about fucking in risky places. Where there’s a chance of being caught or even people watching.” She was so close then I could almost kiss her. “Or would you like me to tie your wrists and explore you until you’re screaming? Are you wet for me now?

  “Stop it, Mister Taylor,” Kylie whispered.

&
nbsp; “I’ll trace ice cubes from the champagne bucket over your breasts and over your stomach.”

  “As well as the sex, which will be fucking devastating, we’ll eat and drink and see the sights – the Mona Lisa, the Eiffel Tower, and we’ll take a private boat trip along the Seine and make love as we drift past Notre Dame.”

  I paused to let the girl picture it all in her mind’s eye.

  “Look at me, Kylie,” I muttered eventually. “Feel how hard I am for you.” I placed her hand on the bulge in my trousers.

  The girl gasped and pulled her hand away as though the fire in my cock had burned.

  I reached for her hand again and returned it to the ridged outline.

  “Are you wet?” I breathed against Kylie’s neck.