Billionaire Romance: Club Billionaire (The Complete Series) (7 page)

I know, from the
limited amount I've found on Kyle Lawson online, that he's largely
self-made. That his family fortune was paltry compared to what it is
now before he came of age and joined the family business. That was
after college – which he attended early – when he was only 19
years of age. A business prodigy in the truest form, he'd taken his
family from less than 200 million to 10 billion in the space of only
ten years.

But it's not only that. Kyle is a man; this blond
headed, blue eyed jock is nothing more than a boy. Fresh out of
college, still living the party life, and with little to no
experience of the real world. He's pretty but not handsome. Soft, not
hard. Average height and tanned like a beach bum, not tall, dark, and
mysterious.

In short, the kid's not sexy. Not by a long shot.

The minutes tick, and my resolve weakens. With only ten
minutes to go, I find myself hiding in the bar room, contemplating
making a run for the elevator. I make a strong gin and tonic, sink it
down, and find that my hands are shaking as I drop the glass to the
counter.

The sound of the door opening draws my eyes, and I turn,
hoping to see Kyle standing there. Hoping he'll somehow be able to
offer me a way out. It's not Kyle. It's Alice, trotting in with the
smile on her face and her hair flowing behind her.

She immediately notices the look on my face, the empty
glass still clutched in my hand.

“
Belle! What are you doing! Drinking on the job...I've
spoken to your already...”

She stops short, sensing my vulnerability.

“
Is something wrong?”

“
That young man. The one with the tan and blond curly
hair. What's his name?”

“
Brad,” Alice answers quickly, with a hint of
disdain. “Why?”

“
He wants me in room TWO in ten minutes.”

Now Alice's face has lost it's smile. Her face drops,
her head shakes, and she clears her voice.

“
At least now I understand the drinking.” She
gestures at my glass. “Refill it,” she orders, so I do.

“
Why Belle...why did you agree to it?”

I take another long gulp. “I don't know.”

I do know...it was to make Kyle jealous. A stupid
move by a stupid fucking girl...

“
I told you you don't have to do anything. And I told
you to watch out for the younger ones. Do you want to? That would be
a change up from the other night.”

I shake my head vociferously. “No, I don't.”

“
Then why did you agree?!”

“
Because...he's a billionaire. What can I do, turn him
down? A guy like that?”

“
Yes. The rules down
here are to protect you are much as them. These men enjoy their
vices, and they enjoy indulging their pleasures away from the
pressures of their worlds. But that does not give them dominion over
us. We are here to make our own choices too, Belle.”

“
So I can back out then?”

Alice goes quiet for a moment. “You can...but you
won't be allowed down here again.”

My heart sinks.

“
What...but you said...”

“
I said we can make our own choices, and we can. So,
yes, you can back out. But I also said there are rules, and there
are. If you've agreed to something, you have to follow through. Some
men might let you out of it if you asked, but I don't think Bradley
will be like that.”

The change in her tone of voice unnerves me.

“
Why?” I whisper.

“
I've seen him looking at you. Tonight, and the other
night as well. Just play the date, Belle, and forget about it. You
only have to do it this once if that's all you want.”

She pours a single shot of brandy and hands it to me.
“Or you can forget it and lose this job. It's up to you.”

I take the glass, sink the warm, brown liquid, and steel
my eyes.

“
I can't lose this job.”

Chapter Five

I walk across the room, passing by the central fountain
and meandering through the myriad tables and statues set up within
the grand, spacious social chamber. I glance to where Kyle was
before, hoping he'll have seen me. But he's absent, no longer sitting
amid the cloud of cigar smoke that's settled over the men in that
corner.

I reach the door that I ventured into two nights ago
when it was nothing more than a mystery. Now I'm all too aware of
what goes on in there, of what is already happening behind closed
doors. Brad, I know, will be waiting for me behind the door
immediately to the right, his young man's hormones thrusting into
overdrive.

I step forward, pushing inside, and stop outside door
TWO. The light is green, indicating the room is not being used. Not
yet, anyway.

With a final breath, I push the door open and step over
the breach, letting the warm, tropical scents of the room wash over
me.

As suspected, Brad is
sitting upright on the bed, salivating at the mouth like a dog. His
jacket has already been removed, the top buttons of his shirt undone.
His shoes are off, his tie flung to one side, his socks discarded.

“
Lock the door,” he demands. I move forward, click
the door shut, and fasted the lock.

He observes me for a few moments before passing on his
next order.

“
I want you to strip for me. Make it sexy.”

There's no music in the room, no rhythm to work with. No
pole, no props, nothing but an empty space of floor for me to use as
a stage.

Memories of my time stripping come flooding back, most
of them blurred or only half remembered. Back then I was always drunk
or high, never completely lucid. When I quit and got my act together,
I told myself I'd never resort to such things again.

And yet here I am. About to return to that world, and
venture forward into a whole new one. Alice told me that the girls
here are not prostitutes. That they only fuck men by choice.

The same, unfortunately, cannot be said for me. I don't
want to fuck this boy. I don't want to strip. I'm doing it for one
reason, and one reason alone. I'm doing it for the money. I'm doing
it because I need to. Loosely defined, I am about to become a hooker.

“
No, no, that's not sexy at all.”

A shoe is flung at me. It bounces off my thigh, creating
a graze which quickly glows red. I look up and see Brad's face,
angry, yet spurred on my the look of fear on mine.

“
I said, strip sexy.”

I begin sliding out of my clothes, no longer thinking of
what I'm doing. Too afraid to over-analyze. To over-think the turn my
life has taken.

Alice's words are the
only thing remaining in my head:
play the date, Belle, and
forget about it.

I resolve to do just that.

Before long my skirt is around my ankles, and I'm
stepping out of it. I see Brad's eyes bulge at the sight of my
panties, just as Kyle's did. The look brings nothing out of me.

My shirt is unbuttoned and peeled off my skin. I fling
it aside. With a lump in my throat, I slowly reach a hand behind my
back, feel the clip of my bra, and pop it open. Immediately, the
fabric falls loose at the front, my heaving cleavage given some room
to breathe.

Brad huffs and puffs on the bed, and I see his hands
drifting under his pants. He shuffles out of them, pulling them off
with the ease and grace of a lumbering bear, like an excited child
taken out to play.

“
And the rest...”
he orders, now working on his shirt. His body is tanned all over, but
for stark lines around his white briefs. He's slim, toned, but not
muscled. The sort of body you'd see on a soccer player. Great for
some girls, but not for me. I like the more rugged versions. Football
players, sprinters. Strong, hard, and lean.

“
Go on, let me see...”

He's naked on the bed now, wearing nothing but his
underwear. An altogether unimpressive bulge nudges them up, and I
begin to see where his insecurities come from.

I drop my thumbs to the outer string of my panties,
drawing over my hips, and slowly, sensually, begin pulling down. His
mouth gapes like a moron as he watches me, his breathing increasing,
and that little bulge gets just a tiny bit bigger.

My panties cling to my skin, pleading with me to stay
on. I feel no warmth between my legs this time. No desire for this
boy spreads through me. It's as though my body is rebelling against
my mind. Telling me to stop, trying to hold me back. But the logical
side of me has nowhere to go. I'm in too deep, and I have to follow
through.

My panties drop to the floor.

An audible sound of pleasure hisses from Brad's lips.
When I look up, he's got his cock out, lying to the side on his leg
above his underwear.

“
Come here.”

I gingerly move toward the bed and climb on.

“
Are you a slut, Belle?”

I look up to him. He's got a smirk on his face. An
arrogant sneer.

“
Do you want me to be a slut?”

“
Only a slut would say that.”

“
Then I guess I am.”

“
Well then do what sluts do,” he says. “And suck
me off. But don't make me come...I'll be angry if you make me come.”

His words sound like a challenge, some sort of weird,
cryptic threat. He wants me to suck him off, give him pleasure, but
not make him come. The boy looks like he'll burst at the first touch
of my lips. He's just looking for an excuse.

I creep forward, inching closer until I'm in line with
his dick. It points up at me, waiting, eager for the warmth of my
mouth.

Suddenly I feel dry. My mouth, my pussy. Dry as the
Sahara. I swallow, try to build up some saliva, try to work it around
the inside of my mouth. But there's nothing. My body's rebelling
still, preventing me from performing.

“
Come on! What are you waiting for!”

Brad's blue eyes are fierce, bubbling up like a stormy
sea. That anger he's clearly so keen to unleash is already beginning
to rise to the surface.

I duck my head, as if expecting something else to me
thrown at me. Perhaps even a fist this time. Nothing comes, though,
and still my mouth fails to moisten.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK.

A loud banging at the door causes my eyes to widen. I
instinctively snatch a blanket from the bed and wrap it around my
body. Brad, meanwhile, does little more than glance up.

“
We're busy in here. Can't you see the red light.”

“
Of course I can see the fucking light. I know you're
in there with Belle, Bradley.”

It's Kyle's voice, a real man's voice, booming through
the door. My heart does somersaults.

“
Yeah, so what,” calls Brad.

There's a delay lasting a few seconds.

“
She's not here to
suck your tiny pecker. She's only a waitress, and she came down here
at
my
invite.”

Brad's eyes boil, and I can't help but notice him
instinctively pull his underwear back over his cock.

“
So the fuck what Lawson, all girl's are fair game
here.”

Another delay. I can sense Kyle on the other side,
choosing his words carefully.

“
I'm going to say this one time, and one time only. If
you don't open this door now and let the girl out, I'm going to kick
it down and then kick your head in. Capiche?”

I fling my eyes back to Brad, who's face has turned the
color of hell and who's hands are shaking violently. He looks like
he's about to have a heart attack.

He considers things a moment, turning silent, then
speaks to me, his voice low.

“
Get out of here. Looks like your master doesn't want
us spending time together.”

I don't move for a second, which brings a burst of
scorn.

“
I said get out!” he shouts.

I quickly slip off the bed, pull on my clothes as fast
as I can, and unlock the door. When I pull it open, Kyle is there,
standing guard. His eyes pass over me, then harden as they lift to
Brad. A short staring match ensues. Boys will be fucking boys.

Slowly, purposefully, Kyle shuts the door, his eyes
never leaving the half naked boy inside. His face softens as it
reaches mine, his harsh words losing their bite.

“
Are you OK?”

I nod. “Thank you, for that.”

“
I don't want you to thank me. I just want to make
sure you don't do it again.”

He leads me into a vacant room, where we can talk in
private. I sit, at his gesture to do so, and feel a shiver run up my
spine. It feels as though I've just stepped off stage, out of a role,
and am back in my own head again.

“
I don't want you
sleeping with anyone down here Belle. That's not why I told you about
this place. It wasn't so juvenile snakes like Brad can put their
grubby hands on you. That boy doesn't know the meaning of the word
respect. If it were up to me, he wouldn't be allowed down here.”