My Billionaire Master: Indebted To Him (Part One) (A BDSM Erotic Romance Novelette) (5 page)

He’d seemed as the newspapers and celebrity-gossip magazines suggested—elusive, mysterious, and sly—but there was something more. They’d never mentioned a penchant for bondage or desires to teach trust through crushing pleasure. For a moment, Cassidy thought…
maybe I know him better than the gossip columns.

Even though he hadn’t actually penetrated her, he’d torn her open from the inside out and shown her more pleasure than she’d thought possible. Her arms surrounded herself as she thought of his magnetic vibe which seemed to offer wicked pleasures all on its own. Curling up on her bed to hug herself in the flickering candlelight, she wondered how many more days would pass before she’d forget about him…
if I ever do
.

She feared that he’d never contact her again and she’d never forget his overbearing charisma and handsome face. She’d tried to convince herself that he’d had a taste, she’d paid her due, and now her punishment was to live the rest of her life without him. At the moment, that possibility drove the air out of her lungs…
it’s too profound
.

Rolling her eyes, she reminded herself that they’d only known each other for less than a day. Even so, Cassidy kept her melodramatic fears to herself. The fact that she wanted him again laid heavily on her mind. Unused to viewing herself as a lust-crazed vixen who allowed handsome men to tie her up, she tried to focus on previous boyfriends. The men she’d grown to know before tumbling in the sheets—predictable ones who considered leaving the lights on spicing it up—now paled in comparison to Alfie.

She finally blew the candle out and wrapped herself around her pillow. With thoughts of him haunting her, she finally drifted off to sleep.

Restoration of their electricity happened after another two days of darkness. Cassidy was afraid to ask her father where he’d borrowed the money. They didn’t have much family. Her mother, now divorced from her dad, flitted around the globe on a never-ending adventure. Responsibilities like family and bills weren’t something, according to her father, that her mother would understand.

There was an estranged aunt on her dad’s side she’d never met. By his closed expression when mentioned, Cassidy could only assume that she would remain estranged. Since he worked the night shift as a security guard, the hours didn’t naturally inspire close friendships. Cassidy and her father were all each other really had. Seeing no alternative, she was becoming overwhelmingly desperate for work.

Placing the meeting with Alfie to the back of her mind, she scoured every help-wanted post down to the smallest suggestion of meaningful employment she could find. She applied to everything and sent her admittedly scant resume to company after company. Nothing returned until, a week after her memorable meeting with him, she was shocked to finally receive a response.

An important document laid within the triangular folds of a thick cream envelope, signaling someone took precious time and effort. With her heart beating in her throat, she recognized the Bertram Industries stamp. Without care for its wrapping, her fingers tore open the envelope to pry out the letter. Only half a page of flowing script, she had to read it twice before the words stopped blurring together and made sense.

Alfie Bertram wanted her back
.

She blinked hard and sucked in a breath. Even though she wasn’t cold, her teeth chattered. Her body felt flushed with fever while sweat collected on her forehead and in that little bowl of her collarbone.
I’m being invited back…for a job interview?

Trying to contain her rampant emotions, Cassidy went from giddy to confused; she read it again. Mr. Jasper, the man she was supposed to originally interview with, was asking on behalf of Mr. Bertram. Her fingers gripped the creamy thick letter as she squealed and bounced on her toes, dancing in place with excitement.

Expected at eight tonight! At night? Who had an interview at night?

Visions of Alfie leaning over her, towering and deliciously invading her presence flooded her head. Grinning wildly, she tried to push it away as her stomach rolled with nerves and arousal scorched her blood. Having been in a constant state of arousal when she thought of him, her body now responded as if he was standing in front of her.

Strong lust made her fingers ache to touch him. She bit her lip but it brought his teeth on them to mind. Turning a full circle while hugging herself, she grinned happily at the anticipation of seeing him. Waving the document in front of her heated face, she mentally growled at her wanton body while thrilling at the memory of him taking what he wanted instead of asking.

She’d already forgotten about her earlier mental chastising over terms such as prostitute and the previous men she’d resisted until she’d gotten to know them. The words
tonight at eight
finally penetrated the fog of lust that clouded her head. It was now after six in the afternoon.

Realizing her lack of time, she shrieked to the empty room, “I have less than two hours!”

With all her clothes in the wash and her hair a hot mess, she rushed to her room, fast enough that she bumped into the living room couch on the way and hit her thigh hard enough to bruise. She barely registered the pain; adrenaline and endorphins dulled it to a minor annoyance that she pushed away.

Cassidy shoved the letter back into its torn envelope, feeling her body thrum with nervous excitement. So strung out, she thought for a second that she’d get sick. She settled on a short green spaghetti-strapped dress while wincing that everything from college was a bit too small. Promising herself she’d purchase better fitting clothes when she had the money, she pulled on the dress that barely covered the cheeks of her ass. After a moment’s hesitation, she paired it with her black five-inch heels. The same ones that had started this whole mess.

Preening in the mirror, she grinned, “I might just call them my lucky heels from now on.”

Casting her mind back to their first meeting, Cassidy remembered Alfie’s admiring gaze on her long tresses. She brushed her hair straight and let it fall freely across her shoulders and lower back. A gigantic goofy smile spread across her face. Applying a layer of mascara with pink lip-gloss, she studied herself before jumping when lights cut across the window.

A long, shiny, glimmering limousine had arrived. She’d never been picked up by limo. The hired driver rang her doorbell, announcing he’d arrived early before escorting her to the car. Helping her climb into the huge backseat, he softly closed the door behind her.

She tried not to second-guess herself on the long and nerve-wracking drive into the city. To distract from thoughts like
this isn’t me
and
I don’t do this type of thing,
she helped herself to a fun-size bottle of soda from the mini-bar. She finally settled back to watch all the nameless gawkers on the dimly lit streets and within the vehicles as they drove through.

Feeling a little drunk without the benefit of inebriation or drug to take her there, she pondered over how Alfie brought out things in her she’d never expected. Various emotions—anticipation, arousal, excitement, and anxiety amongst them—roamed within her. She squirmed impatiently on the leather seat but realized with a jolt that the movement only made her desire worse.

The buzzer by her armrest sounded, startling her. A voice poured out from the little speaker slats she was only just noticing, “Ms. Fearn, we are nearly there.”

Saying more to herself and not really expecting an answer, she asked, “Why are we going to the Fairmont?”

She’d expected to be taken back to Bertram Industries home office, where they’d first met, instead of being taken to an opulent hotel. The voice sounded again, “Mr. Bertram owns the penthouse suite. He’s expecting you there.”

She’d barely pondered this when they parked in front of a valet. A different man opened the door and ushered her out. She wasn’t sure if she should offer a tip or not. She didn’t get a chance to find out as she was escorted to a bank of elevators and cordially told to press
PH
to reach the top.

On the way, she glimpsed a huge lobby with sparkling white marble floors covered in expensive looking rugs and carpets. Long sectional sofas of dark chocolate suede spanned half of the waiting area. A chandelier, crystals twinkling and casting pools of light, hung from the high ceiling.

She tried to take in more but the doors closed and she was tugging her dress down on her way up to Alfie. The lift seemed to take forever before the doors retracted with a gracefulness that made her eyes widen. The penthouse level opened up onto a grand hallway. Cassidy quickly realized Alfie Bertram owned
the entire upper floor
of one of the most expensive five-star luxury hotels in the country.

She blinked, wide-eyed and trying not to ogle, as her jaw dropped. Exotic artwork gilded every inch from floor to ceiling and offset the plain dark wood walls in rich pigments. Polished marble floors, decked in radiant carpets shone in the artificial candle light, and wall-length windows to the darkened city below stole her breath.

Hesitantly, Cassidy exited the elevator and wobbled on her first step. Her shoe sank into the plush carpet, seeming to take her ankle with it. She looked around in awe, spinning slowly and awkwardly in a full circle. This one hall was as large as some people’s homes.

A door at the far end was guarded by two life-sized burnt orange vases. The thought quickly entered Cassidy's mind;
what is it with Alfie Bertram and vases?

Drawn to their beauty as her fingertips itched to touch, she gingerly made her way to them for a closer look. She didn’t hear the door open as Alfie stepped into the room. Reaching out, she jumped when he said; “
Just can’t stay away from priceless antiques, can you, Miss Fearn?”

His voice was just as deep and smooth as she remembered it. Cassidy blushed at the amusement dancing in his eyes while her breath froze at his mere presence. With a grin, he said, “Welcome to my humble abode.”

She took a long pointed glance around and raised an eyebrow. He had the good grace to smile wider, a tiny twist of his lips that acknowledged her silent disbelief. With what appeared to be a careless shrug, his gaze stroked every inch of her skin from toes to hair as he explained, “I’m something of an art buff. I like to collect beautiful things. It’s a bad habit I’m told but one which I have no intention of shaking.”

Following his heated gaze, warmth spread from her toes all the way up to the top of her head. Her hair was probably blushing auburn from this man. The cool air conditioning made her feel feverish.

Offering an arm, he said, “Come. Let me give you the grand tour.”

He drew her into his home, one arm carefully around her waist, keeping her pressed along his side which helped her walk on unsteady legs. She would have blamed the shoes but, at this point, she knew it had more to do with his wicked charisma. He seemed happy to show her his things, which lit him from within, making his sun-toasted skin glow a healthy tan.

His place was easily as large as her imagination dictated. All the furniture, carpets, and walls were upholstered in shades of cream. Like the hall, the entire space burst with life and color from the series of artistic decorations he’d placed everywhere. More native pieces lined a marble fireplace with actual logs smoldering inside. Recognizing the smoky rustic smell, she walked further into the grand penthouse and caught a hint of candle wax and incense.