Everything That He Desires (#1) (An Alpha Billionaire BDSM Romance) (2 page)

“You use ghostwriters?”

“Yeah, but most of them are shit,” he said.  “Not you, though.  You’re going to be my protégé.”

“What are you talking about?”

“I want you to collaborate with me on my next book,” Hunter replied, running a hand through his thick dark hair.  “Well, that’s bullshit.  Actually what I want is for you to write the damn thing for me while I sit around getting drunk and jerking off to porn.”

Callie’s eyes widened.

“Oh don’t act so innocent,” he admonished.  “I’ve read the sex scenes you’ve written.”

Instantly, Callie cringed.  She hadn’t even been thinking about those.  Some of them got pretty steamy, and why the hell not?  When she was nameless and faceless behind her computer, she was free to explore and fantasize.  So her imagination ran wild.

But now Hunter knew about some of her deepest, darkest fantasies.  Shit!

“I think I’d better go,” Callie said, pushing her wicker chair back from the table.

“Wait.”

There was something so commanding and authoritative about Hunter’s tone of voice that Callie immediately stopped in her tracks.  She stared at him, simultaneously despising him and wanting him.  “What?”

“I’ll make it worth your while.  I’ll mentor you,” Hunter told her.

“You don’t even write your own books,” she reminded him testily.

“Touché,” he grinned.  “But back when I was starting out, I wrote all my own stuff.”

“Congratulations,” she said sarcastically.

Ignoring Callie’s snide remark, Hunter continued, “I’ve sold the movie rights to twelve of my novels, and my work has been translated into nineteen languages.  I know this industry inside out and I have connections like you wouldn’t believe.”

“So?”

“If you want your fan fiction turned into a feature film, consider it done.  Hell, I’ll even arrange for the A-list actor who makes your panties the wettest to star in it because yes, I have that kind of pull.  If you want fame, it’s yours.  If you want to learn, I’ll teach you.”

“I have no interest in fame,” Callie replied as she stood up, put off by Hunter’s crude remarks and egotistical assumptions.  She reached across the table and plucked her half-read romance novel up from where it sat next to Hunter’s beer. 

Then she matter-of-factly informed him, “I doubt I’m interested in learning a thing from you.”

Hunter laughed out loud at that.  “I’ll pay you!” he informed her, catching her wrist in his hand as she was about to walk away.  The touch of his skin on hers felt electric.  “I’ll pay you a million dollars.”

Callie stopped dead in her tracks.  Then she burst out laughing.  “Are you delusional?”

“No, are you?”

“You’re lying.”  Even as she said the words, Callie wasn’t so sure.  Hunter looked dead serious.

“I’m not,” he insisted.  “Write one book with me and I’ll pay you a million dollars.”

“What’s the catch?”

“I’d maintain the book rights and we’d market the product under my brand.”

That didn’t seem so bad.  But Callie wasn’t about to be won over so easily.  “What else?”

“I guess the other catch is that you’ll be stuck with me at my beach house for as long as it takes to finish the book,” he shrugged.  “It’s the only place I go to write – or in this case, fuck around while you write.  The location is non-negotiable, so pack your bags.”

“I didn’t say yes.”

“You’d be a fool to pass this up.”

Callie hesitated.  She hated to give in.  She hated to give this pompous asshole anything he wanted because that would only reinforce his infuriating delusions of grandeur.  But he was right.  As much as she hated to admit it, he was right.

“A million dollars?” she asked, afraid she’d misheard him.

“A million dollars,” he nodded.

“Why me?” she demanded. 

“Why not you?” he shrugged. 

“That’s not an answer.”

“I need a female perspective on this book.  I need a fresh, new voice – not some author who’s been around for years and is set in her ways.  But I also need someone talented, who doesn’t suck.  I got sick of having my time wasted so rather than wait for someone good to come to me, I started searching.  And I found you.”

“Just like that?” she asked suspiciously.

“God, you really do have a problem just letting good things happen to you, don’t you?  Why are you so hell bent on discrediting me?  Stranger things have happened.  Actors and models have been discovered walking down the street – why can’t an author be discovered online?”

“You’re really going to pay me a million dollars?” Callie asked in disbelief.

“Sure, why not?  The funny thing about getting rich is the more money you make, the less often people tell you no.  Nobody has told me no in a very, very long time, Callie.  And I’m not about to let you break the chain.  If a million bucks is what it takes to make you mine, so be it.”

“I need some time to think about this,” she insisted.  That was really code for saying she needed to go home, look him up and see if the guy was legit.  It would be just her luck if he was an escaped mental patient posing as a world famous author!

“Don’t take too long,” Hunter cautioned.  “My jet flies out tonight.  I’ll pick you up at 11.”

“You don’t even know where I live.”

“Yes I do.”

“Are you a stalker or something?!”

“Or something,” he grinned.  “See you tonight.  Oh, and nice bra.  Red is my favorite color.”

*****

Hunter talked a good game.  He was confident and charming, oozing sex appeal.  He knew how to make a woman do what he wanted, and some might say that knowledge was a deadly weapon.  He was a master manipulator.  Come to think of it, he should have gone into politics.

But he hadn’t counted on Callie giving him such a hard time.  He had expected his offer to pay her a million dollars to bring her to her knees.  Instead, she had remained deeply suspicious and wholly unconvinced.  If she didn’t soon relax, he was going to be in for a rough time.

What made it extra infuriating was that she was right to question his motives.  He wasn’t being entirely truthful, or at least not completely forthcoming.  But that was the nature of business, wasn’t it?  Everyone always spoke in half-truths and partial facts.  Everyone lied.

He was just being a good businessman.

Well, maybe he hadn’t been completely successful.  He had initially planned to offer her half a million.  He had assumed that would be sufficient, but when he had realized what a ball breaker Callie could be, he had upped the ante.

Oh, who was he kidding?  That was a lie.

The moment he’d laid eyes on the curvy librarian, he had decided he had to have her. 

He had only been able to find a couple dated photos of her online – for a woman who spent so much time writing fan fiction, she didn’t have much of a social media presence.  Hunter had thought her photos were cute, but after having delved into the wild west of online dating a time or two, he also knew pictures could be misleading.  So he had reserved his judgment.

When Hunter had seen Callie in person, he had been awestruck.  He hadn’t wanted to show it of course, but inside he had been on fire.  She had a body to die for and for some irritating reason her unwillingness to submit only made him want her that much more.  Hunter was hell bent on taking her back to his beach house. 

He was as excited as a kid with a shiny new toy that he couldn’t wait to play with.

Hunter was already convinced that Callie would be a good match for him professionally.  As a writer, she was exactly what he was looking for.  She was everything he wanted and he was secretly even a fan of her work, though he would never admit it to her.  In particular, he loved the raunchy sex scenes she wrote.

Under her pseudonym, Callie wrote about bondage.  She wrote about pain and submission and domination and surrender.  Her words drove Hunter wild.  Knowing that those lustful, kinky scenes came from the brain of someone young and beautiful thrilled Hunter to no end. 

But the thing that he liked best was that her descriptions were lacking something.  They were detailed and delicious and sensual, sure.  They were enough to tease and tantalize, and maybe even enough to get a novice off.  But Hunter was no novice.  He knew what was missing.

Callie’s sex scenes were lacking real world experience.  They were written from the viewpoint of an idealistic, awestruck BDSM virgin.  Of course he didn’t know if Callie was
actually
a virgin – with those tits and that ass he doubted it!  But he doubted she was anywhere near as kinky as she wanted her readers to think she was.

The more Hunter read of Callie’s work, the more convinced he became that she had no real world experience with BDSM whatsoever.  She was new, fresh and mouldable.  He could take her and turn her into exactly what he wanted her to be...or at least that was the plan.

Callie was like his fantasy come to life.

Needless to say, Hunter was longer thinking like the business savvy hotshot he was.  And he was finding it increasingly difficult to think with his head.  It may have had something to do with the fact that all the blood in his body had rushed to...some other spot.

He had won; he had gotten Callie on his private jet.  Maybe he hadn’t won the war yet, but that was only a matter of time.  For now, he had won the battle and that was enough for him. 

He was sitting on his jet across from the stunning young librarian.  He was pretending to study the newspaper, though in actuality he hadn’t read a single word.  He was only using the paper to shield his growing erection from Callie’s sight.

She sat there with her ankles crossed primly and her hands clasped in her lap.  Even though she was a total knockout, no one would ever suspect from looking at her that she was the dirty, sexually charged woman who had authored countless fan fiction stories on the internet. 

Hunter loved knowing that he was, in all likelihood, the only person who was in on her secret.

As he watched Callie nervously push her glasses back up the bridge of her nose, Hunter felt his growing cock straining against his clothing.  She was the best kind of sexy – the completely oblivious, unassuming kind.  It was as though she had no idea that she was every man’s wet dream come to life.

He desperately wanted to take her.

He doubted she was a member of the mile high club and God, did he want to initiate her.  He yearned to give her a fucking she would never forget, to ravage her until she was exhausted, hoarse from screaming and whimpering for a break.

He wanted to rip her clothes off right there, stripping her out of her modest button up blouse and that little skirt that hugged her big delicious ass so flawlessly.  He’d bend her over the seat, her face pressed into the cushions and that round shapely ass right in his face. 

Maybe she would struggle. 

Maybe she wouldn’t. 

Hunter didn’t know and the mystery of it all drove him wild.

He would be gentle at first, if she’d let him.  He would explore her glorious, voluptuous body, memorizing every curve and every contour.  He would take his time with her, kissing and licking every inch of her body until she was quivering beneath him, begging for release. 

He would ignore her pleas, ignore her growing need.  He liked them desperate, so turned on they could hardly stand it.  He loved having that sort of power over them.  It was intoxicating.  He wouldn’t give her what she wanted – what she
needed
– until there were tears.

He loved making them cry. 

Did that make him a sadistic bastard?  He wasn’t sure.  It wasn’t as though he got off on terrorizing a woman.  He didn’t want to cause any lasting injury, either.  No, what he liked was making them realize just how helpless they were.  He lived for that moment when something inside a woman snapped and she realized her sexual release depended entirely on him.

Once she submitted, she got her reward.

Once she was his, he gave her what she craved.

In all honesty, Hunter had no idea if he would ever reach that point with Callie.  She was much feistier than the women he was used to – that had become apparent within the first five minutes of meeting.  She was a different creature entirely.  Even if he was able to get her into bed, he wasn’t sure he would be able to get her to submit.

But he loved a challenge.

*****

“
This
is your beach house?!” Callie demanded incredulously.

Hunter stood there leaning against the doorway with his hands in his pockets, watching in amusement as she took it all in.  It was, of course, not the typical beach house.  Nothing about Hunter Black’s life was typical, so why should his home be?

It was a freaking mansion.  It was a huge, massive structure on a private stretch of pristine, untouched beach.  The mansion had turrets and wings – hell, the wings probably had wings!  It was incredible.

Callie whirled around to look at him.  “This is where I’m going to be staying?” she demanded.

“Yes.  It’s where
we’re
going to be staying,” he replied.  “Do you want to see your room?”