Bound by the Billionaire (69th St. Bad Boys Book 5) Page 2

  “Well, since it’s Christmas, I’ll allow it.” I lowered my lips to her cheek and pressed a quick kiss to her soft, floral scented skin. Upon lifting my lips, I reached up and gave her hair a gentle tug. “Run, little sub. I see your Master approaching, and he looks pissed.”

  She gave me a quick nod and a wide Miss America smile. “Thank you, Sir.” And with a delighted squeal, she scampered away with bells ringing in her wake.

  As Killian passed, I said, “You have your work cut out for you with that one.”

  “Exactly how I like it, mate.” With a pat on my shoulder, he darted past in search of his prize.

  I continued to walk around, occasionally stopping to catch up with old friends. My patience with Vivian’s lateness was wearing thin. She would pay dearly for making me wait. After one more lap around the floor, I took a seat at the bar and ordered my second and last drink of the night.

  I’d been a member of the club since it had opened. Over the years, I’d watched many members come and go. I’d helped celebrate marriages and births, and grieved when members went to meet their maker. But lately, I’d found myself growing tired. While not exactly boring, being a member was no longer as thrilling as it once was. The place no longer held the allure it once did.

  At forty, maybe I was too fucking old to play games with subs. Perhaps I needed a new challenge, but I didn’t know what that new challenge might be. I was at the top of the investment world and had billions in the bank. My new memoir released in two days, and I gave motivational talks all around the world. I had everything I might want, but it didn’t seem enough. No matter how hard I pushed myself and no matter how much I achieved or how many accolades or awards I won, nothing appeared to fill the gaping emptiness inside of me.

  “You not taking part?” Nathan, one of my neighbors, stood beside me and nodded towards a scene involving Master Dylan, his sub Lizzie, a dildo sculpted from ice and restraints fashioned from fairy lights.

  “You know me— that’s not my thing. Plus, Vivian is on her way. Or she should be.”

  Members gathered around to watch Dylan at work. The icy dildo began to melt on contact with Lizzie’s pussy, and her eyes glazed over with passion and need. She was vocal in her pleasure, and when Dylan told her to remain silent, her moans increased in volume. Were she mine, I would punish her for not listening— in a way that would make her scream even louder.

  Nathan casually leaned against the bar and gestured for a beer. “I thought you and Vivian were done.”

  I continued to watch the scene play out. Lizzie’s tits jutted out, bouncing as she writhed against the fast-melting toy. Her moans now reaching a fucking crescendo of desire.

  “We are. Tonight is our last contracted night. I invited her here as a reward. She’s been asking to come here since we signed our contract.”

  It hadn’t been a good idea, to mix the Expose Club, which I considered my personal life, with my “relationship” with Vivian, which was entirely professional. But now that we were ending, I’d figured granting her that wish as a Christmas present couldn’t hurt.

  After a minute, the bartender tossed a coaster in front of me and sat my drink down in front of me.

  “Is Vivian okay with you ending things?” Nathan asked.

  “She understands. She’s not happy, but she understands.”

  The volume of Lizzie’s orgasm rose over the murmur of voices, resulting in applause from the bystanders.

  The pager in my pocket vibrated.

  “Excuse me,” I said, taking out the device.

  The message was from Jimmy, informing me that my guest had arrived. I shot a message back telling him to bring her straight to my room.

  Someone was in big trouble.

  Chapter 3

  Paige Matthews

  Since it wasn’t yet nine, the first floor was still quiet, with only a few people roaming around. I knew from my past spying that things wouldn’t pick up for a few more hours. By midnight, you’d more likely die of thirst before getting anywhere near the bar.

  I followed Jimmy to a cloakroom manned by a middle-aged woman with deep grooves around her lips and eyes. Looking at her skin made me thankful I’d quit smoking in college. A jaded expression covered her face, as if she’d rather be doing anything other than checking coats. And who wouldn’t feel the same way?

  “Your bag and coat,” Jimmy ordered, snapping me out of my bad habit of getting lost in my own head while people watching.

  I shrugged off my coat and draped my bag on top of it. A bead of sweat trickled down my back. The area between my shoulder blades where my phone was lodged burned. This was the big test, but unless anyone scrutinized my body, I didn’t think they’d notice anything suspicious.

  I handed the clerk my bag and coat, and she gave me a yellow-toothed grin.

  “Congratulations on your invitation to the inner sanctum.”

  “Is it as crazy as they say up there?” I asked, giving her a smile that was so wide it hurt the corners of my lips.

  “I don’t know,” she said, with a disappointed shrug. “I’ve never been invited.”

  “Maybe one day, you will be.” I did my best to sound encouraging.

  She gave me a throaty laugh that held little humor. “I doubt that. I’m way past my sell-by date, plus I’m not into all that craziness.”

  Jimmy cleared his throat as if to say shut the fuck up. He stood beside me, in a typical bodybuilder stance, looking every bit as menacing as I was sure he hoped he looked. His legs were spread and his arms were crossed. His bored expression told me to hurry the hell up.

  Once I’d checked my coat, I followed Jimmy through the club to the hidden elevator concealed behind a black curtain. I was afraid of whatever fate awaited me when we arrived at our destination. But I had come too far to give up now.

  Jimmy waved his arm over the call button, and the door opened. He stood back and waited for me to enter first. Perhaps beneath all that muscle was a gentleman.

  Inside the elevator, he stood at one side, and I stood at the other, neither of us speaking. There wasn’t even elevator music to break up the silence.

  “So, been doing this long?” If I was going to get my story, I figured now would be as good a time to start digging as any. “I bet you’ve seen a lot.”

  He smirked and shrugged. “I’ve seen enough.”

  “Do you enjoy it?”

  “What’s not to enjoy?”

  His answers were so short I’d have to improvise. I ventured forth with telling him something about myself, hoping he would take pity on me and give me some information—maybe some tips about the kind of guys who came here, or some ways to make sure I had a good time.

  “This is my first time here,” I said.

  “I know.”

  I wasn’t expecting that answer. “How do you know?”

  “I was told.”

  I wanted to ask who had told him, but if I did, that would let him know I didn’t have a clue about what I was stepping into.

  “Excited?” he asked.

  “You could say that.”

  The elevator shuddered to a stop, and after the door opened, we stepped through a curtain of lights into a winter wonderland. LED snowflakes floated around the room, and winter-blue lighting illuminated hundreds of icicles hanging from the ceiling.

  Masked people laughed, danced, and drank. A few feet from me, a woman writhed on a tabletop while being spanked by a half-naked man. By the smiles on their faces, they both loved every minute of it.

  I tried not to smile myself, as I thought about the appropriateness of the phrase that was floating around in my head upon seeing the guests at this party: like kids at Christmas. Reminding myself to stay serious, I followed Jimmy around the outskirts of the heaving dance floor, not really sure where we were going and what I would find when we got there.

  At the back of the room was Santa’s grotto. My eyes didn’t believe what they were seeing. A female Rudolph with a shiny nose and antlers rode Santa li
ke a pony. Santa’s palm prints reddened her ass, and he slapped her in time with her movements.

  “Wow,” I breathed and stared at the rhythmic way Santa’s hand repeatedly spanked the female Rudolph’s ass.

  I could feel my breathing pick up speed and my heart beat faster and faster. My unblinking eyes widened. My body liked what I saw, as confirmed by the dampness in my underwear and the hardness of my nipples. But my mind rebelled. This was just a job. I wasn’t supposed to actually like being here.

  “This way,” Jimmy said from behind me, and I jumped, both startled by his voice and from my guilt at staring so long.

  Sure, everything I was looking at was in full display, but it was usually forbidden and reserved for secrecy. Plus, I wasn’t even supposed to be here.

  “Where are you taking me?” I asked.

  My voice sounded hoarse, as if I’d spent the day shrieking at the top of my lungs and had damaged my vocal cords.

  “Save the games, sweetheart,” he said, in an uninterested tone, while his eyes scanned my face and body. I decided it was better to keep my mouth shut and follow him to wherever he was taking me.

  We left the club floor and strode down a long and narrow hallway full of rooms. A red light shone above some of the doors. I figured they indicated if the room was occupied or not and I also figured in a few minutes I’d be in one of those rooms and God only knew what was expected of me once I was.

  Near the end of the hall, we stopped walking. Jimmy knocked on a door but didn’t wait for it to open before going in. He gestured for me to go inside, which I did.

  The only light in the room came from muted sconces on the walls by the four-poster bed. We weren’t alone, but the corners were so dark it was hard to tell who else was there.

  “Your guest, Sir,” Jimmy said, in a solemn and almost reverent voice.

  From the shadows came a man wearing a mask and a pair of black trousers. And that was it. Even though he stood a few feet from me, I felt the power radiating from him.

  I couldn’t deny the stranger’s handsomeness, but there was a fierceness there too, so strong that made me want to bury my head in Jimmy’s chest. I didn’t know Jimmy, other than our elevator conversation that went nowhere fast, but I could only hope he was tough enough to protect me from whatever this other guy— whom I knew even less— had in mind.

  I gave the masked man a once-over. He looked to be a little over six feet tall, with thick dark hair. But it was hard to tell the exact shade in the low light. Defined muscles that might have been carved with a chisel lined his chest.

  “You’re late, and pets who are late get punished,” he said.

  His deep voice was neutral and held little emotion, but I heeded the warning behind the words. All the hair on my body stood straight up.

  Jimmy took that as his queue to leave, and the door clicked behind me. Damn it. Instead of saving me, Jimmy had delivered me into the hands of this man who looked like he couldn’t wait to use them on me.

  Chapter 4

  Wyatt Palmer

  Who the fuck was the wide-eyed little blonde mouse standing in front of me? Whoever she was, she wasn’t Vivian.

  My sub was feisty and petite, a short-haired Italian with a penchant for sassiness and the color red. Whereas this blonde girl was tall, even without the icepick heels she currently wore, and curvy. Whenever I got hold of Vivian, she would pay dearly for whatever game she was now playing.

  Perhaps Jimmy had made a mistake and brought the girl to the wrong room, but not once in all the years I’d been a member of Expose had Jimmy ever made a mistake so grave.

  Calling him to escort the mouse from my room would be the smart thing to do— the responsible thing to do— but the thought of flogging her shapely legs until she begged me to stop meant my dick was soon in charge. The mouse cleared her throat and tilted her chin as if to say pay some attention to me. That one gesture showed me that beneath the sweet “butter wouldn’t melt” cherub face was someone who didn’t back down easily.

  Interesting.

  Annoyance at Vivian’s non-arrival still rankled, but the evening still held promise and I wouldn’t let it go to waste. Perhaps the mouse was the challenge I’d been looking for. I grinned and considered the possibilities her unexpected appearance could bring, and my cock lurched in response to the lustful thoughts floating around my head.

  “You should already know when you walk into a Master’s room, you undress and assume the required position,” I said, keeping my voice low and even. “And you should also know to address me as Master or Sir.”

  “Master what?” she asked.

  “I don’t recall giving you permission to talk, sub.”

  The mouse nibbled on her lower lip, and her eyes darted around the room. That response alone told me she’d never been alone with a Dom before.

  I was intrigued and also curious about how far I could push her before she scampered away. I knew nothing about this girl. Not her limits. Not her preferences. Not her name. Hell, I didn’t even know if she was a sub. But that wouldn’t stop me from toying with her. Nothing would happen between us, though. Some wet-behind-the-ears novice wasn’t my style.

  She eyed me nervously and fidgeted with her hair, then her fingers, and then her hair again. Her sweet naivety called to me but then a face I’d done my best to forget pushed its way to the forefront of my thoughts. A sourness filled my mouth, and I tipped my head back to swallow down the all too familiar taste.

  Had one of my competitors sent the mouse here? It wouldn’t be the first fucking time. If I asked her straight out, she wasn’t likely to spill her guts and tell me the truth. So, for now, I would give her the benefit of the doubt, but if she was sent here to worm her way into my affections, it was a trick I wouldn’t fall for again. Once bitten, twice shy.

  I decided to just play along with whatever game Vivian had set up for me.

  “Your lateness means one punishment.”

  She sucked in a shocked breath.

  “Punishment? Seriously?”

  There was a rasp in her voice that accentuated her go-fuck-yourself attitude. I liked the mouse, and that wasn’t a good thing.

  “I haven’t finished talking, sub.” I stalked toward her like a predator focused on its prey. My position was intimidating, but it was supposed to be. “You’re still wearing clothes. That’s two punishments, and since you still haven’t assumed the position, that’s three punishments. You failed to address me correctly, so I make that four punishments. You’re in my room, therefore, you’ve agreed to be under my control. My room, my rules. But you can leave anytime you want. I can call Jimmy to escort you out.”

  She bit her lip and shook her head, but I didn’t miss the way every muscle in her body clenched. I’m sure her pussy was clenching for me too.

  “As punishment, I can spank, paddle or flog your ass. Usually, I wouldn’t give you a choice, but because it’s Christmas, I’m feeling generous.”

  Her eyes flashed, and I saw interest mixed with a hint of fear. It seemed she desired to have her backside reddened. She was a sub all right. An inexperienced sub but a sub nonetheless. Perhaps I’d been premature in thinking nothing would happen between us.

  I reached out a finger and stroked it down her cheek. She didn’t flinch or pull away, but the muscles in her jaw tightened. The light in the room was too dull for me to see how much her skin flushed at my touch, but a distinct blush spread across her chest.

  I trailed my fingertip down the velvety skin on her throat and zig-zagged it over her décolleté, but before I reached the swell of her breasts, I lifted my finger away, and I could have sworn I heard a small sigh of disappointment.

  Guilt whispered in my ear, and I frowned. Part of me wanted to order the mouse out of my room and then call Vivian to demand an explanation, but the protective part of me wanted to hold the mouse in my arms and reassure her she was safe with me.

  But was she really? The way my cock pulsed with every heartbeat, I wasn’t so sure.


  I wouldn’t have sex with her, not without a contract in place. My self-imposed rules weren’t something I would break. Not now. Not ever. The one time I did ended in humiliation and heartbreak. It was a hard-learned lesson one I wasn’t in a hurry to repeat.

  “You’re aware of what it means to be a sub, aren’t you?”

  Her gaze dropped, and in a whisper, she said, “Yes, Master.”

  “Look at me.”

  She obeyed and lifted her face.

  I studied her body language and the war raging inside of her. Her hands were clamped in front of her stomach, and her eyes glittered with desire, and the fact she hadn’t run away with her tail between her legs showed me she was as curious about me as I was her. When was the last time I’d felt so captivated? So roused?

  I strode around her body, and as much as my fingers tingled with the need to touch her, I resisted.

  Her lush figure held lots of promise. A cinched waist gave way to flared hips and an ass that begged for a thrashing. When I came around to the front of her body, I met her eyes. She swallowed hard, and the pulse in her neck fluttered, but she didn’t break eye contact. I tilted my head in thought and wondered what her eyes would look like glazed over with passion. The kind of passion she’d never experienced before.

  “What brings you to the party?”

  “I had an invitation, Master.”

  Flushing, she finally broke eye contact.

  “I see. And what brought you to my room?”

  The corners of her lips lifted into a small smile. “I wouldn’t call Jimmy a ‘what.’ A Rottweiler in a tux maybe…”

  Her words trailed off, but her smile stayed in place.

  Fuck. She had a wicked sense of humor. One of my few weaknesses.

  “Jimmy would be flattered at your description.” I rocked back on my heels and considered what I would and wouldn’t do. “Your ass is made for spanking, your tits for binding, and your hands for cuffing. I’m not sure which one I’d prefer. Which do you prefer?”