by Jenna Rose
I nodded as I poured myself another glass.
“Ohhh….” she said.
“Ohhh?” I asked her. “What does ohhh mean?”
“You know what ohhh means,” she teased.
“No, I don’t, Sara! What does ohhh mean?”
“It means Alden McLaren is a gorgeous billionaire,” she smiled. “And you are a gorgeous girl.”
“And so that means what exactly?” I asked.
“Gorgeous babies?” she suggested.
“Sara!”
“Relax, girl,” Sara cooed, rubbing my knee. “I’m not Melissa. I’m not here questioning your reputation as a business woman. I am however fully aware that you are a hot, single, warm-blooded lady and he is an equally hot, single, billionaire playboy and you were just at his Hamptons mansion by yourself.”
“I wasn’t by myself,” I corrected her and took a sip of my wine. “His assistant was there.”
“In the room?”
I paused. “No…”
Sara laughed. “So what happened? You guys get a little flirty?”
I shook my head and buried my face in my glass.
“He didn’t flirt with you?” she asked, sounding surprised.
I shook my head again as I thought back to the warmth of his body and the feel of his strong lips crushing against mine like he already owned me.
“So what’s the big deal then?” Sara asked. She went to take another sip of her drink but stopped. She looked at me and her jaw dropped.
“No…”
“No what?” I asked indignantly.
“You didn’t…”
“Didn’t what?”
“You didn’t fuck him?” she exclaimed.
“No!” I replied, acting as though her suggestion was really that much of an impossibility. “What kind of girl do you think I am!?”
“The kind of girl who likes hot guys?” she replied. “Duh?”
I sighed, set my wine aside and slumped back on the couch.
“I can’t take the job,” I told her.
“Did he offer it to you?”
“No,” I replied, realizing I’d just made a pretty big assumption.
“Well, maybe he won’t? Then you’d be off the hook!”
On one hand she was right; Alden not offering me the job would make this whole situation a lot easier, but on the other hand, I needed the job, my resume was incredible and I’d presented myself in an extremely professional manner...
…well, almost.
“Why wouldn’t he offer me the job?”
And then, as if on cue, my phone buzzed from my satchel.
“Oh, shit!” Sara laughed as I picked it up and showed her the caller ID.
ALDEN MCLAREN
“What do I do?” I hissed as though he could somehow hear me.
“Answer it, dummy!”
“I can’t!” I replied, thumbing the ignore button and setting my phone aside.
“Wow,” Sara said. “What the hell happened over there?”
“I—I sort of kissed him,” I admitted, feeling like I’d betrayed every value I’d ever held while I built my business.
“You sort of kissed him?” Sara laughed. “What’s a sort of kiss?”
“I means I sort of kissed him,” I replied. “At the door. He swept over to me like some dreamy guy out of a romance movie and it just sort of happened…”
“You know what that sounds like to me?” Sara asked.
“What?”
“A kiss,” she smiled. “Not a sort of kiss—a kiss kiss. And I think you liked it; that’s why you aren’t taking his call.”
“That’s exactly why I can’t take his call!” I moaned as the phone buzzed again, vibrating across the glass tabletop. “I can’t be doing that sort of stuff with my boss!”
“Why not? You’ve already been accused of doing it. Why not just embrace your reputation and go for it?”
“My reputation as a whore home wrecker?” I growled. “Yeah, no thanks. I’ll pass on that.”
“First of all, he’s not married. Second of all, he’s a billionaire, Belle. You wouldn’t have to worry about anything every again.”
I silenced my phone once more.
“So I’m just supposed to, like, marry him now?” I asked. “After one little kiss? Alden’s a New York City playboy. He’s got models and actresses just hanging off him every time he steps out of his Bentley in Manhattan. He’s gonna marry me? A maid?”
“I thought you were a housekeeper?” Sara laughed. “And the fact that you are even thinking about what I said means you consider it a possibility. He must have made quite the impression on you.”
Was I really thinking about that? Marriage? Something long-term with a man I’d just met?
My phone buzzed again and I sighed and looked at my friend who was grinning. She always loved seeing me squirm.
“You need the money, babe,” she replied. “I’m gonna be gone soon—”
“Don’t say that!” I moaned, clutching my vibrating phone.
“I’m gonna be gone soon and you can’t afford this place on your own.”
“What if he wants to, like…make me his sugar baby or something?” I asked. “And what happens to my reputation when that gets out?”
“Babe, you know I love you,” Sara smiled. “But you don’t have much of a reputation left.”
“Gah!” I groaned. She was right of course, but hearing it again, especially from my friend’s mouth, hurt my heart.
So, I did the only thing I could do; I answered the call.
Chapter Three
Belle
“Belle Blanche,” I answered warmly, as though I didn’t have his number saved in my phone.
“Hello, Belle.” Alden’s voice was like sweet honey through the speaker and I felt a stir in my nether regions.
“Hello, Mr. McLaren,” I said, trying to hide my excitement.
“Call me Alden,” he said firmly. “Listen, I feel bad about the way we left things. Why don’t you come back and we’ll finish the interview?”
“Now?” I asked, my eyes on Sara. “You want me to come back to finish the interview now?”
“Is there a problem with that?” he asked. “I’m a man of action and don’t like to wait on things. We can discuss hours, salary and other things.”
“Other things?”
Sara just about squirmed out of her seat and slapped me excitedly on the knee.
“That’s right,” he said simply.
“Oh…okay,” I replied, giving in. “I’ll be over soon.”
Without waiting for his response, I hung up and set my phone aside. My heart was about to thump its way out of my ribcage and I was panting with excitement and nervous energy.
“Good job, babe,” Sara smiled. “Looks like you just won the fucking lottery.”
“Yeah…” I muttered as I stuffed my purse back into my satchel and straightened my blouse. “We’ll see. How do I look?”
“Professional,” Sara smiled. “You good to drive?”
“It was one glass, Sara,” I replied. “I’m not five years old.”
“Not with those things, you’re not,” she laughed as she got up and jiggled my boobs through my shirt. I slapped her hand away.
“Stop it!” I laughed. “I’ve got to get my shit together!”
“You’re together, babe. Just go over there, look cute and sign on the dotted line.”
“God, you make it sound so nefarious,” I laughed as I grabbed my satchel and headed for the door.
“Go get ‘em, girl!”
I stepped outside, arms tingling and heart racing like I’d just run a 400-meter dash. As I pulled out of the driveway, I realized I was sweating and grabbed my emergency deodorant from my glove box. But of course the blouse I was wearing made it pretty much impossible to use the thing, so I put it back and kept driving, wondering if I was making the biggest mistake of my life.
Being a professional had been so important to me, and I’d worked hard
to build my reputation that had only taken Melissa a day to destroy.
Maybe Sara was right. Maybe I should just give in and let him be my sugar daddy. But something about doing that sort of thing with Alden felt wrong—
Alden? I thought. Did I just call him Alden and not Mr. McLaren?
But why did it feel wrong?
I pondered that the entire way back to his house. The enormous gate that looked like it belonged on a French chateau swung open for me and I parked my beat-up Camry beside a black Bentley and a white Rolls Royce.
“Jesus,” I muttered as I stepped out and walked towards the house.
I was barely pulling myself together when the front door opened. I expected to find Heather, his assistant, welcoming me inside, but instead, I saw Alden standing there with a panty-melting grin on his perfect face.
Fuck, I thought as I walked towards him.
“Hey, you,” he smiled.
“Where’s Heather?” I asked.
“Oh, I sent her home for the night,” he replied. “We don’t need her.”
Well, at least that means the possibility of him asking me for a threesome is out!
“Come on in,” he said, holding the door for me.
“I’ve got it,” I told him, as I put out a hand to hold it for myself, but Alden wasn’t budging.
“I insist,” he smiled. “I have to at least pretend to be a gentleman, right?”
All I could do was laugh nervously as I brushed past him and stepped into the marbled foyer. He’d dimmed the lights, and even though it didn’t seem possible, my heart rate increased as I heard the door latch behind me.
“I looked over your resume,” he told me. How was his voice so sexy too? Was there anything wrong with this man?
He wasn’t wearing his business casual pants and shirt anymore. Instead, he had a pair of designer jogger sweats on and a t-shirt that was probably Gucci or Louis Vuitton or something equally expensive.
His jawline was so sharp I could probably shave zucchini on it and his designer stubble was so perfect it looked like it’d been photoshopped on. I tried not to look at his biceps bulging out of his sleeves or the vein running down his smooth, tan skin.
“I’ve decided to hire you.”
“You—you have?” I cleared my throat awkwardly. “That’s…”
Alden looked at me like I was funny. “That’s great?”
“I—Alden, I just don’t want things to be confusing here,” I told him. “I’m a professional housekeeper. I had a business until it was destroyed by one of my competitors slandering my name. I’m not looking for…an arrangement.”
“You called me Alden,” he smiled as he advanced on me, his strong python-arms swinging loosely at his sides. “What happened to Mr. McLaren? I liked that.”
“You did? I thought you told me that was your father—”
“I did,” he smiled. “But now, as your boss, I don’t mind being called mister.”
“My boss?” I asked. “I haven’t signed anything yet.”
“Well, let’s get that fixed then,” he said. He stepped over to Heather’s desk and lifted a clipboard with a contract on it. I took it from him and began reading it over. It looked standard enough until I came to the section detailing my pay.
“This can’t be right,” I stammered when I saw the amount. “This has to be a typo.”
“It’s right,” Alden smiled.
“But—”
“I’m a billionaire, Belle,” he grinned.
As if I could forget, I thought.
And then I saw the next section and my heart almost stopped.
LIVING ARRANGEMENTS
He must have seen my reaction because I heard him chuckle.
“That’s right, Belle. You’re going to live here with me,” he said. “I have your own wing of the house set aside. The boys will come over tomorrow and set it up however you want. That way you’ll be here whenever I need you.”
My head started spinning. Was he joking?
Alden stood there as confident as ever as though we were discussing the weather. Nothing about what he was saying was apparently strange to him. But I, on the other hand, was about to fall over.
“I can’t sign this…” I said softly. Alden moved right in on me and my body flushed with heat as it had done in his living room when we’d kissed.
“Of course you can,” he whispered. “You want to sign it, Belle. We both know you do.”
Who was this man?
It was like he could see right through me, and as he spoke, I realized that he was right; I did want to sign it.
I was tingling with anticipation as he handed me a Montblanc fountain pen and pointed to the dotted line where I was supposed to sign.
Holy shit…I thought as I pressed the nib against the paper and wrote my name. I’m really doing this.
When I was done, I looked up at him and smiled nervously. He took the clipboard from me and set it aside. For a second, I thought he was going to lean in and kiss me again, but instead, he reached out and took me by the hand.
“You’re mine now,” he smiled. “Come on. I’ve got a bit of work for you to do tonight.”
“Tonight?” I gasped as he tugged me towards the enormous marble staircase.
Chapter Four
Alden
And now she’s mine.
She’d signed on the dotted line, confirming what I already knew; this girl was made for me.
The combination of her beauty and confidence had my balls tight and my body on fire for her. This wasn’t some dumb club bimbo who’d say whatever she thought I wanted to hear just so she could try and get some money out of me. This was a girl who didn’t take any shit from anybody—the kind of girl who could be a real match for me.
All of a sudden, my future was clear to me.
I’d told Heather to cancel the rest of the interviews we had planned and had my lawyer make the quick adjustments to the contract.
Then, I’d had something special messengered over…something just for her.
Barely keeping my shit together, I held her soft hand and led her up the stairs to the second floor and down the hall to my bedroom wing. Normally, this was the part of the tour where girls gasped and oohed and aahed over the wood paneling and priceless art hanging all over, but Belle said nothing.
And I loved her for that.
“What…kind of work do you have for me?” she asked.
“Nothing too crazy,” I told her as I pushed the door open to my wardrobe room. It was larger than the walk-in connected to my bedroom and was where I kept special items, including the one I had ready for her.
She tried not to, but I heard a slight gasp as we stepped inside. The room was bigger than most people’s living rooms, stocked with stuff I hadn’t even worn yet.
In the center of the room was a wide white table that rose out of the floor like an altar, and on top of it, was Belle’s special gift.
“What is that?” she asked.
“That, Belle, is your work outfit,” I told her. “And I need you to put it on now.”
I looked over at her and saw the blush rise in her cheeks until she was as red as a tomato.
She’s shy, I realized. I love it…
“My work outfit,” she repeated as she stared at the French maid’s outfit I’d had brought in from the city from one of the top costume designers who did all the big parties in the city and also worked for Hollywood from time to time.
“That’s right, gorgeous,” I smiled. “Just for you.”
“But I—”
“This isn’t a request,” I told her. “It’s mandatory.”
“Mandatory?” she gasped. “Who do you think I am?”
“You are Belle, my new maid.”
“Housekeeper!” she replied quickly. I grinned as I boned up even more.
“You are my new maid,” I repeated. “And you signed the contract. Now, are you going to go back on your word, or are you going to put on your outfit for me?”
I could see the civil war going on inside her. She wanted to put it on—she did—but even after signing the contract, she wanted to remain professional. Her spunk made me want her even more.
“Fine,” she replied. But she didn’t move. Obviously she was waiting for me to leave the room so she could change, but that wasn’t going to happen.
“Go on,” I told her.
“You go on,” she replied. “I’m not changing in front of you.”
“Oh, no?” I asked, stepping closer so her scent filled my nostrils. “Is that insubordination?”
“Look, just because I signed the contract doesn’t mean I have to do everything you say! It doesn’t mean I have to change in front of you.”
“No one else is here, Belle,” I smiled. “You don’t have to act like you don’t want this. We both know you do.”
Her lips twisted in the cutest little pouty frown and all I could think about was wiping that expression off her face with a good hard pounding, fucking her so hard that all she could do was make faces of ecstasy.
“Now change for me,” I repeated.
Although it didn’t seem possible, her glistening lips twisted even harder, but she did as I asked and started to undress.
I was rock hard now and didn’t even bother to hide my bulge. She knew it was there but refused to look at it. She was stubborn, not throwing herself at me, which only made me want her more.
As her blouse came up and revealed her pale, delicate skin, I almost groaned out load. She was wearing a black lace bra and her tits were so high and firm on her chest that I could picture other guys arguing over whether or not they were fake.
Of course, no other guys would ever see them. Not anymore.
Her pants slid down and exposed her red thong clinging to her protruding hip bones like an ‘80s bikini and I almost lost it. Her thighs were creamy and warm and all I wanted was to bury my face between them and taste the sweetness between her legs.
She kicked her flats off and set her pants aside and I watched her nipples grow hard beneath the lace of her bra. Despite the face she was making, she couldn’t hide her body’s reaction to what was going on.
