Damien: Billionaire Bad Boy Romance (4 page)

BOOK: Damien: Billionaire Bad Boy Romance
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Audrey blinked slowly. Her blue eyes were all pupil, her dark lashes quivering with excitement. A new muskiness emanated from her body and mingled with the talc and strawberry scent, making her seem abominably desirable. As she swallowed hard, I watched the soft skin on her throat tighten and clench.

 

“When I touched you for the first time, I’d make sure you wanted it,” I continued as I watched Audrey’s face. “I’d stroke my hands all over your soft body and drag my nails down your back until you began to bleed. I’d stroke your breasts and bury my face between your legs, licking and sucking on your hard little clit until you came in my mouth.”

 

Sweat beaded on Audrey’s forehead and she closed her eyes, arching her back and tilting her head back on her graceful neck.

 

“I’d fuck you so thoroughly that no one else could ever fuck you again. I’d stroke your clit until you were on the verge of madness and then bring you back again, to the height of pleasure. I’d show you how to lick my cock and cradle my balls, how to pleasure me. And then we’d pleasure each other, Audrey. We’d crawl on our sides, thighs over each other’s heads and pleasure each other with our mouths. Does that sound good?”

 

There was a sudden loud sound behind me and I jumped back from Audrey. Harsh, overhead lights blinked on and filled the big storage closet with glaring yellow.

 

“Oh my god,” Audrey squeaked. She darted past me with surprising grace and ran out of the storage closet, clutching the front of her ugly cardigan with both hands.

 

Karen, the woman who Audrey had caught me with on her first day, stood there watching.

 

“Hi, Damien,” she said with a sensual smirk on her face. “Plotting your next victim?”

 

I rolled my eyes. “Enough, Karen,” I told her as I stepped past her and into the hallway. There was no sign of Audrey anywhere—she’d managed to scamper off. I raised my eyebrows and chuckled. That girl was full of surprises.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chapter Seven
 

 

 

By the time Friday rolled around, I was so sexually frustrated that I had to jack off in the shower three times before going into work. The whole night before I’d been kept up, tortured by visions of sweet little Audrey between my sheets. I hadn’t been around a woman who I’d wanted to dominate in a hell of a long time—years, even. But Audrey was the perfect candidate. She was gorgeous under all those frumpy clothes and she was the most submissive woman that I’d ever come across. She could barely bring herself to meet my eyes, much less speak out against me.

 

As I walked into my office, I grinned. I’d arrived early and Audrey was nowhere in sight. Her poster, a perfect mock-up of the design I wanted to use at the tech expo was propped behind my desk.

 

I turned on my computer, planning to spend the morning catching up on emails and calls. I’d missed a few calls this week from someone called Hotchkiss and while his name was unfamiliar to me, I had a bad feeling about the intensity. Audrey had carried in three messages from him over the past two days. Under normal circumstances I would have returned the call by now, but I couldn’t shake the frustrating hold that Audrey had on my dick and my mind. Every time I saw her, I couldn’t stop thinking about how I had to have her. I had to satisfy my lust, I had to scratch the infernal itch that she’d created within my body.

 

“She’s not here, you can focus,” I repeated to myself. It was a mantra I’d come up with that morning. I knew that Audrey would take time, but I couldn’t let LennoxCo go to hell while I was waiting for her to come around. After all, she was only a woman. I’d had hundreds of those before. No reason why one in particular should hold me up so much.

 

I frowned as my email program popped up. My heart sank when I saw the name at the top of my inbox: Richard Hodges.
Great
, I thought as I rolled my eyes.
You’re back from the brink
.

 

Back when I’d first started LennoxCo and made my first million, I’d been contacted by a potential investor named Richard Hodges. He wanted me to set aside a portion of my business for a consulting firm that he knew. He’d promised me that everything would be perfect, that the consulting firm operated with little overhead cost and that I was getting a great deal.

 

In short, he fucked me. By the time Hodges was done with me, I’d been almost bankrupted. If it hadn’t been for several investments that I’d made on my own before starting LennoxCo, I wouldn’t have survived the fallout. Ever since that had happened, I hated the man. He’d escaped with barely a scratch, and sometimes he popped up out of nowhere to try to con me all over again. It had been four years since the debacle happened with his so-called consulting firm, and I had no desire to let business go down to the toilet once more.

 

But now, I couldn’t just ignore a man like Richard Hodges. He’d recently been named a top CEO by Fortune 500, and he’d been hired to helm another tech company in the industry, a company that focused on security services, just like LennoxCo. Reading about Hodges in the news had given me a sick feeling in my stomach, and I’d prayed that he wouldn’t try contacting me again. Even though I didn’t want anything to do with him, he was powerful. And I had a feeling that if I pissed him off enough, he’d try to destroy LennoxCo.

 

“Hi, Damien,” Audrey said. She stepped into my office and straightened her posture. “Can I get you some coffee?”

 

I nodded. “And could you give me the number for that Hotchkiss man?” I frowned as I dug through the pieces of paper littering the top of my desk. “I can’t find your messages anywhere.”

 

Audrey blinked and then nodded. She darted out of my office. Five minutes later, she was back, armed with coffee and a notepad.

 

“He said his name was Richard,” she said, licking her lips and flipping through the sheets of paper. “Here’s his number.” She handed me a piece of paper with the same number written on it as Richard’s emails.

 

“Audrey,” I said sharply. “Did he tell you that his last name was
Hodges
or
Hotchkiss
?”

 

Audrey blushed. She buried her face in her hands and stamped one of her orthopedic shoes on the ground. “Darn!” Her voice was muffled. “I screwed up, Damien!”

 

“Audrey, look at me,” I ordered, keeping my voice deadly calm. “Look at me right now.”

 

Audrey let out a small squeak and ducked her head back up to face me. Her cheeks were deliciously pink and her eyes had begun to water. “Damien, I am so sorry,” Audrey said in a rush. “He must have said Hodges and I heard Hotchkiss.” She hung her head again. “I’m sorry. It’s always been really hard for me to hear people on the phone!”

 

“Next time, you get him to spell his name,” I breathed. “This is a very important man, and someone who I need to keep tabs on at all times, do you understand?”

 

Audrey nodded meekly. “Did I screw something up for you?” The fear in her voice was palpable. “What can I do to fix it, Damien?”

 

“Just take my messages properly in the future!” I said loudly, slamming my fist down on the desk. Audrey jumped a foot into the air, making the same squealing sound that she’d made before. “This is the most important part of the job, Audrey!”

 

She skittered out of my office and I slammed the door behind her. It was the first time I’d really been irritated with her, aside from when she walked in the first day to find me screwing Karen. I understood that she obviously had some kind of social problems, but it frustrated me that she hadn’t exerted a more disciplined performance. I rolled my eyes.

 

You’re being too hard on her
, I thought to myself.
But if it was anyone but Hodges, you probably wouldn’t care that much
.

 

I sighed, opening Hodges’ latest email. He wrote a few lines about “not being able to get through that impenetrable secretary of yours” and I had to smirk. At least she’d managed to get under
his
skin, too. But when I got to the body of the email, I scowled. Hodges was, once again, offering to buy LennoxCo. He’d first made the overture a few months ago and I’d written it off as drunken bravado. But now I could tell he was doing it to prove a point.

 

I shifted uneasily in my chair. I didn’t think Hodges was bluffing anymore. I knew that he wanted to buy me out, and suddenly I was more nervous than ever before that he’d actually take a step to threaten me.

 

“Audrey,” I called loudly. “Come in here.”

 

There was no reply. I heard someone’s voice chattering away, but it wasn’t Audrey meek little tone. Frowning, I stood up from my desk and walked out of the room. Audrey was sitting behind her desk staring up at Karen, who was leaning over her.

 

“You’d better watch yourself,” Karen said before flicking her eyes towards me and turning on her heel. “Little bitch,” she muttered under her breath as she walked away. When she reached the elevator, she turned around and stared at me longingly. I could practically see her nipples getting hard under the nearly transparent blouse she wore.

 

I walked closer. “What was all that about?”

 

Audrey jumped at the sound of my voice. She whirled around in the chair and I could see that she looked more frazzled than ever. “I don’t know,” she said, glancing down at her feet. “That girl, um, Karen, she just walked over to me and started threatening me.”

 

I frowned. “What kind of threats?”

 

Audrey laughed. It was a hollow sound. “She just told me to watch my back,” she said fearfully, glancing over her shoulder. She frowned, narrowing her eyes and creasing her pale forehead. “I mean, she said that you look at me funny.” I watched Audrey lick her lips. “I don’t think you stare at me.”

 

I raised my eyebrows. “Well, Karen is obviously jealous,” I replied.

 

Audrey blushed again, harder than before. “But why would
she
be jealous of
me
?” Her voice had an awkward, Midwestern quality to it that I’d never before.

 

I smirked. “You’ll figure it out,” I said. “Trust me.”

 

Chapter Eight
 

Audrey

 

 

That Saturday, I was relieved to have the day to myself. I took Pepper on a nice, long walk in the morning. It was still freezing cold—Chicago winters were the worst—but it felt good to spend some time with my favorite girl. All the while, I couldn’t stop thinking about Damien. I hated myself for obsessing over him. Hell, all the women he worked with had probably done that.

 

“I hope you’re not disappointed in me,” I told Pepper as I reached down and scratched the area between her ears. “I’m a little disappointed in myself, to be honest with you, girl.”

 

Pepper whined. She curled up between my legs and thumped her tail on the cold ground.

 

“I know, I know,” I told her with a sigh. “We’re going home and getting you out of the cold. Don’t worry.”

 

It had been a sunny morning but now the sun was ducking behind the clouds and I could tell that it was going to snow later. I shivered. Even under three layers of clothing, I couldn’t seem to warm up.

 

Thinking about Damien sure makes you warm
, a voice piped up from the back of my head. I rolled my eyes. It was true. I spent so much time blushing around Damien that my cheeks felt permanently pink. Whenever I was alone, I felt more like myself again: cool, calm, and collected.

 

Pepper whined uneasily as we walked into my apartment building. The lobby was as dingy as ever, but it still felt good to be out of the cold. As we waited for the elevator, I swallowed hard and thought about what I was going to do.

 

As much as I hated myself for not being able to stop thinking of Damien, whenever his face popped into my mind I couldn’t deny the feelings of warmth and lust that came over me. I’d only ever slept with one guy. He was someone I’d known in college, and back then he’d seemed as glamorous as Damien had.

 

His name was Peter. We’d both majored in economics and I loved the way he stood out from all of the other kids—you could tell he didn’t care about being preppy or popular. He had dark hair that was usually long enough to hang in front of his eyes and instead of wearing polo shirts and khakis like the other econ majors, Peter always looked like he was on his way home from band rehearsal.

 

He’d been aloof and cold, and desperately sexy. I’d spent three years staring at him. Whenever he glanced at me, I felt like my insides were melting. It was the most amazing feeling that I’d ever felt. Well, until I met Damien at least.

 

Peter hadn’t paid a lot of attention to me. We got to know each other because of class discussions. Finally, at the end of my last year, some kids in our senior seminar invited me to a part. I almost didn’t go—it was right after I’d adopted Pepper, and I was worried about her being home alone for a few hours.

 

“But, Audrey,” one of the guys had said with a smirk. “Peter’s going to be there. Don’t you like him?”

 

At the time I remembered being mostly embarrassed that everyone could tell how I’d felt. But I’d gone to the party—that had been enough to hook me. I didn’t know what to wear, so I wore a cocktail dress that I’d gotten from a thrift shop. It was definitely the wrong choice: everyone else had been decked out in jeans and t-shirts. But it was enough to make Peter finally talk to me.

 

I still remembered how it felt when he’d walked up to me and handed me a beer. It was like we’d never met before. Suddenly, his gaze was all over me. After I’d had a few drinks, I was woozy and could barely stand. But Peter put his arm around me and told me that everything was going to be alright. He’d guided me into a back bedroom. I was afraid that he was going to leave me, and when he turned to go, I asked him to stay. Then he’d crawled in bed with me and put his cold, shaky hands up my thrift-store dress.

 

I hadn’t really liked sex. It had hurt, and then it had felt uncomfortable. Peter had passed out on top of me and wriggling out from under him had hurt a lot. But I’d felt sort of proud in a way. After all, I was no longer a virgin. I finally felt like I’d had a typical college experience, even though it wasn’t nearly as fun as I’d expected. But the experience had done one good thing: it had completely cured me of my attraction to Peter. Whenever I thought of him afterwards, I remembered the clumsy way that his fingers had prodded and poked at my body.

 

I had a feeling that sleeping with Damien would be the complete opposite of sleeping with Peter. Just thinking of his name made me shudder. A second later, the image of his perfect face popped into my mind. I closed my eyes and thought about his perfect grey eyes, his dark hair, the chiseled curve of his jaw. And that body! I felt my skin prickle and tingle with warmth as I recalled the sensual, feline shape of his limbs. I wondered how his skin would feel pressed up against mine. His scent, that rich, spicy cologne, was enough to make me feel wet for hours. I was dying to know what he used. It was tempting to buy a bottle and spray it on my pillowcase.

 

After I fixed lunch for myself and Pepper, I got dressed again and braved the cold. It was my weekly shift at the soup kitchen, and I was looking forward to seeing Carl. I hadn’t seen him all week. Before I’d started working at LennoxCo, Carl and I had visited once or twice in the evenings. Usually, I’d treat him to a cheap meal and then we’d hang out in my apartment. But I hadn’t had time this week—I’d stayed late at LennoxCo almost every night. I felt embarrassed and ashamed about it. When I’d first gotten the job, I’d made a promise to myself that I wouldn’t turn into one of those careless women who forgets about her friends just because of her job. Now, shamefully, I felt like
exactly
one of those people.

 

The soup kitchen was crowded and pleasantly warm and humid when I let myself in through the staff door. I could tell there was a bigger crowd than usual—in the winter, we saw almost triple the amount of people who came in the summer. Shelters and food kitchens in Chicago don’t exactly have a reputation for being safe, but Helping Hands Pantry tried hard. I knew almost every single one of the people who volunteered there, and they were all one hundred percent committed to making it a safer place than ever before.

 

“Hey, Audrey,” one of the other regulars said to me. It was a woman who at first I’d taken to be in her late thirties. Her name was Gina, and she was someone I respected. I’d had a few long talks with her when I first graduated from college. Initially, I’d wanted to work for a nonprofit. Gina had a lot of experience, but she definitely made me rethink my decision. I remember her telling me, “If you’re planning on sending money back home, don’t rely on a nonprofit to pay all the bills.”

 

I shuddered. Being at Helping Hands usually made me feel lucky, but today I just felt guilty. There were so many people in line, and so few of them had jackets or coats. There was a man standing across the counter from me who actually looked like he’d been frostbitten.

 

“Hi,” I said to Gina as I slipped an apron over my head. “What’s going on?”

 

“We’re so busy today,” she said frantically as she passed a loaded tray of stew, bread, and vegetables to the man with the chapped face. “We had way more people show up than expected and two volunteers called in sick!”

 

I rolled my eyes and pushed up my sleeves. I always wore plastic gloves at Helping Hands and the sensation of the cool plastic sliding against my skin always took some getting used to.

 

“I’m sorry this morning has been so hectic,” I apologized as I helped load up a tray and pass it over the counter. “I should have come in earlier,” I added. “I feel guilty.”

 

Gina looked at me and laughed. “Audrey, you’re already, like, the nicest person here, everyone knows you have a full-time job and you still volunteer. I wish I could get my daughter to be more like you,” she added. “She’s so selfish. She won’t even think of volunteering during the holidays!”

 

I blushed. I didn’t often make it known why I cared so much about charity work. Only Carl knew the real reason: because my family had often in eaten places like this when I was growing up.

 

“Thanks, Gina,” I said, hoping she’d drop it. She let out a groan and walked back into the kitchen.

 

It felt like my shift lasted forever. By the time I was done, I was exhausted. My feet were killing me—I’d bought new sneakers and hadn’t had time yet to break them in. All I could think about was going home and snuggling with Pepper on the couch.

 

When I let myself out of the volunteer exit, I gasped. Damien was standing right there. It had begun to snow, and he was wearing an amazing black overcoat with a silk scarf and a nice hat.

 

I rolled my eyes. “Get lost,” I said. “I have to go home and take care of Pepper.” I winced as soon as the words were out of my mouth. “I’m sorry,” I apologized. “But I really don’t think I should be here right now, this isn’t a great idea, Damien.”

 

“I was waiting for you,” Damien said. He smiled at me with a cruel twist of his perfect mouth and I felt arousal spike in my lower belly. “I wanted to ask you something.”

 

My mouth suddenly felt heavy and woolen.
Damnit
, I thought in irritation.
I do fine when you’re not around! Then you have to show up and make me feel so flustered!

 

“Well, what is it?” I stepped closer, feeling my mouth drier with each passing second.

 

“I wanted to let you know that I’ll leave you alone,” he said casually, spreading his hands through the air.

 

I narrowed my eyes at him. “So, what, you couldn’t have just told me that at work?” I rolled my eyes. “You had no problem telling
everything
else there.” I shivered as I remembered our encounter in the supply closet the week before.

 

“Well, there’s a catch,” Damien said. His voice was silky and deep. I felt a strange feeling pass through my body, like my stomach was sliding around and my lower belly was tightening. It almost felt like I’d just sprinted a mile.

 

“What’s that?”

 

Damien stepped closer. “I get to kiss you.”

 

I scoffed, crossing my arms over my chest. “Oh yeah?”

 

Damien nodded. “Of course,” he said. “You have my word. I’ll leave you alone, you’ll be a free woman. No more comments, no more staring.”

 

I swallowed hard. “I don’t believe you. I think you’re just trying to fuck with me.”

 

Damien chuckled. “You can’t read my mind,” he said teasingly, raising an eyebrow at me until I felt my whole face covered in a hot flush. “So you really have no idea, do you?”

 

I gulped. “You’re ridiculous,” I said, pushing past him and stalking away. “I don’t believe you, not for a second. You don’t care about kissing me, you only wanna do it to prove a point.”

 

Damien raised an eyebrow at me. “You have no way of knowing until you agree,” he said. “So, what do you think?”

 

I squirmed. Even though the Chicago January was brutal, it wasn’t nearly as bad as being rooted to the spot while my boss stared my chest.
And it’s not like you don’t want him to
, a voice in my head chimed in.
Admit it. You want to know what it would feel like. You want to know exactly what he’s going to do to you
.

 

Damien stepped even closer. A wave of his delicious scent came over me and I had to close my eyes and steady myself against the cold brick of Helping Hands. I braced myself, readying my body for the feel of his perfect lips on mine. I wondered if his hands would roam around my body, I wondered if he’d pull me close. This man was like sex personified, and it was all I could do not to throw myself into his arms and eagerly await the feel of his tongue sliding against my own.

 

I wouldn’t have admitted this to Damien, not for all the money in the world, but I’d never really been kissed. All through junior high and high school, I’d been too shy and embarrassed to even think about dating. All of my friends had boyfriends. Every afternoon, before getting on the school bus and going home, they’d kiss in the hallway. Sometimes I watched, trying to imagine how it would feel to be kissed. But no boy ever asked me, and as years passed, I became increasingly aware of the fact that I’d never been kissed.

 

Peter didn’t even kiss me. Sure, he pressed his sloppy face against mine when we were already having sex, but he never cupped my face in his hands, never kissed my forehead or the tip of my nose. Hell, I wasn’t even sure that he’d made it to my
lips
.

BOOK: Damien: Billionaire Bad Boy Romance
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