Bound by the Texas Billionaire (BBW Erotica) (Billionaire BDSM) (Billionaire Domination)

by Richards, Lynn

  He’d preyed on her weakness—her sister’s education. And she’d let him because she wanted everything that he’d offered. She’d hoped in the end that would mean his heart as well. It hadn’t. He satisfied himself physically. She on the other hand, hadn’t had nearly enough of him.

  Damn she wanted to do it again and again. How was she going to face him when he returned when she’d be remembering the feel of his stubble roughened jaw brushing against her wet nipples? His mouth sucking on her clit. Dear God, the feel of his cock deep inside her. Just thinking about the ways he’d taken her had her pussy clenching in need.

  Great. Now she’d made herself horny.

  Perhaps she should go to bathroom, lift the edge of her skirt and satisfy the hunger inside. His private bathroom. It would be filled with his scent. Clean and spicy and all man. It was the scent that had clung to the shirt she’d worn home. She knew she’d never forget that scent. Or the man.

  The phone on her desk rang, jerking her abruptly back to the present. She muttered under her breath and automatically reached for the phone.

  “Quinn Enterprises, Logan Quinn’s office.”

  Fuck.

  The party on the other end didn’t respond to her standard greeting and she remembered her vow not to answer the phone. And why she’d made it.

  “Well, it’s nice to know my secretary finally decided to come in to work.”

  “Mr. Quinn.” Apparently Elaine and Paul had ratted her out. Macy clamped down on the other words she wanted to say. She wasn’t going to explain where she’d been. Wasn’t going to ask how his flight had been. If he’d gotten any rest. If he missed her.

  Again she thought, how did women do this? Act so natural and blasé around men they’d slept with? Some even remaining friends?

  She wanted to bash his head in with the nearest blunt object for being so damn controlled.

  Why was it, the longer she was with Logan, the more her Italian temper rose to the surface? A temper that had never made itself known much before now.

  “I need to dictate some letters, Miss Trent.”

  From thousands of miles away? Right. He wanted to make sure she got the message. Jabbed another point home. Business as usual. She reached for her pen and stenographer’s pad. Her notebook had become an unwelcome extension of her arm over the last year. “Whenever you’re ready. Sir.”

  He wanted an obedient secretary, she’d give him one.

  Her nerve endings vibrated at the low, deep tone of his voice as he spoke. She remembered their last time together. His harsh commands, the feel of his body as he took her. Her hand trembled and the word she was writing didn’t exist in any language. Hardly hearing him over the thudding of her heart, Macy frowned. “What?”

  “Please repeat what I just dictated, Miss Trent.”

  “Umm, umm.” She licked her lips stalling for time as she tried to decipher her writing. Finally she made sense of the scribble in front of her and quickly read back his dictation. He made changes and continued on with the next letter.

  Business as usual. It didn’t seem to matter to him that not twenty-four hours ago she had been spread before him, his face buried between her legs as he licked and tongued her to orgasm.

  It was all too much. She wanted to leap to her feet. She couldn’t stay here any longer. She’d move back in with her family, join the Foreign Legion. Anything.

  “There are several documents that I’ll be needing from my office.”

  Macy made herself take a deep breath and calm down. If he could play the cold-hearted bastard, she could be the cool, efficient ex-submissive. “Alright. If you tell me which ones, I’ll be more than happy to scan them and forward them to you. Sir.”

  She hoped the saccharin sweet tone of her voice as she said the word wore on his last nerve. Or made him remember how she’d screamed the word, begged him for release.

  “How thoughtful of you, Miss Trent, since that is in essence your job.”

  Her hand tightened on the phone and she wanted nothing more than to slam it down and let the sharp thunk sound in his ear. Instead she flipped her steno pad to a clean page and said, “I’m ready for your instructions, sir.”

  Damn it. Logan cursed at the sound of Macy’s innocent remark. That damn sultry voice of hers had him hard. He remembered the last time they’d been together. He’d tied her to his bed again, pleasuring her with his mouth and tongue until her pussy was wet and pulsating, waiting for him to plunge inside her…

  He’d made her beg for her release.

  The rest of their conversation was sharp and to the point. He gave orders, she agreed to obey. Boss and assistant. Nothing more.

  “May I do anything else for you, sir?”

  Again, her innocent remark had his cock jerking in his pants. Or were her words so innocent? He couldn’t remember for the life of him her ever calling him sir. Or being so damned accommodating. Except yesterday and the day before.

  “Mr. Stewart will be delivering some documents. When they arrive, I need you to go to the airport.”

  “Alright. Do you want me to use the courier service?”

  “No. I need you to bring the files to me.”

  “To Japan?”

  Logan laughed at the incredulous tone of her voice. And it was not a nice laugh.

  “Logan.” She let his name slip from her lips.

  “Be there in two hours, Miss Trent. I’ll have the jet fueled and waiting.”

  “Now wait a minute, I can’t be ready to fly to Japan at a drop of the hat. And I can’t possibly be ready to go in two hours. It takes at least an hour to get to the airport. And then there’s security and–”

  “Stop babbling, Miss Trent. I know for a fact you have a passport since it was a requirement of your job. Go to your apartment, pack a bag, and get on the damn plane.”

  He disconnected the call before she could respond. After security had called and reported she’d finally shown up for work, he’d waited to call his office until he’d returned to his hotel room. He’d waited until Ted had briefed him on the day’s events. He’d waited until he’d stripped and climbed between the cotton sheets that felt almost like silk because of their astronomical thread count. He’d waited what seemed like hours until he’d called his office to find out why the hell his secretary, the woman he’d spent the weekend fucking, hadn’t shown up for work.

  His damn hands were shaking as he put away his cell phone.

  This was not happening to him. He was not falling under the spell of his smart-mouthed secretary. Or her luscious curves. She was six-fucking-thousand miles away and she was messing with his control.

  She would pay, he vowed. She would pay dearly.

  *****

  Two hours to the minute, Macy was sitting in a plush leather seat waiting for Logan’s private jet to take off. In the luggage hold was her small, battered suitcase filled haphazardly with a change of clothing she’d snatched from her closet. Another of her ill-fitting suits and boring cotton underwear. Beside her in the soft sided leather briefcase were the documents Logan’s attorney had delivered. She’d almost been embarrassed to face the man, knowing he was the one who’d drawn up their contract. Then she remembered she’d torn it up and returned it. She had nothing to be ashamed of. She’d had sex with Logan Quinn because she wanted the man, not the money he wanted to pay her.

  And she still wanted him.

  Don’t go there, she warned herself. It was over. The clock had counted down to zero. She was out of time.

  She tugged at the fitted waistband of her pants, wishing she’d taken the time to change into a more comfortable outfit. The dark navy fabric had no give. It was going to be a very uncomfortable twelve hours. She remembered the feel of the silk and satin lingerie set Logan had bought her. Maybe it would make her feel better if she started wearing nicer things. She could afford one or two new outfits. But she wouldn’t be shopping at Pampered Elegance any time soon.

  It felt like days since she’d shared Logan’s bed, came
apart in his arms, not the handful of hours that had actually passed. What would she do if he wanted another weekend with her? Or sex while they were in Japan? She sighed, her imagination running away with her. There was no ulterior motive for him requesting she courier the documents. They used employees as couriers for many overseas dealings. It wasn’t difficult or even terribly exciting either.

  She’d spend twelve long hours on a plane, deliver the documents then be shuttled back to a hotel near the airport for an aborted night’s sleep. She’d be on her way home without seeing anything of real interest. It could almost be considered a punishment of some sort. Have the intoxicating excitement of a trip to a foreign country given to you and then taken away. No doubt that had been Logan’s intention when he’d insisted she bring the documents. A punishment. Or another example of his control. Not a desire to continue where they’d left off.

  If she didn’t get to see any of the sights or shop at a store or two, Allison would be terribly disappointed. She was hoping Macy could bring her back some decorations for the apartment she’d rent when she went away to medical school. Macy had spent a good portion of the two hours she’d had to get ready to travel on the phone with her family. The first thing her father had asked was if she needed money. She’d assured him that Quinn Enterprises was picking up the tab. Her mother had warned her to pay attention to the safety lecture, and her grandmother had encouraged her to find a lover to bring back home. Of course, the older woman said that even if Macy was just going to the grocery store for more milk. She wondered what the feisty old lady would think of Logan as her lover.

  Macy had never flown on a plane before even though she had family in Italy. Hers was a typical middle class American family. Sometimes they struggled; most of the time they got by just fine. But there would never be enough money for airfare to Europe. As the plane became airborne, she took stock of her surroundings. The interior of the plane was ultramodern and reminded her of Logan’s office. No frills, no fuss. All business.

  She squirmed in the soft seat. Damn the man. Why couldn’t he see what was right under his nose? Her.

  Once they were airborne and she was able to remove her seatbelt, a slender man about her age came down the aisle. “Hello Miss Trent. Mr. Quinn has instructed me to serve you breakfast whenever you’re ready. He ordered steak, eggs, whole wheat toast with butter and jam and a bowl of fresh fruit and orange juice.”

  Of course he did, Macy thought darkly. Far be it from her to want to pick her own breakfast items.

  The attendant continued to smile as he waited for her answer. If it wouldn’t make things more difficult for the innocent man, Macy would kick up a fuss in hopes of it being reported to Logan. Like he would care how her flight had been. She, did, however decide to take advantage of the situation. “That sounds wonderful. And could I have a little champagne in my orange juice?”

  If you were going to travel first class, Macy thought, leaning against the soft leather seat, you might as well travel first class.

  *****

  Logan tried not to let his agitation show as he listened to the conversation between Ted and the Osakas’ representative. He could easily follow the conversation even though both men spoke in rapid Japanese. One of the few benefits Logan had reaped from his father’s military career was his fluency in three foreign languages–Japanese, German and French. He had a spattering of others, including Italian. Did Macy know any Italian? While her great-grandmother had been born in Italy, the rest of her family, he knew, had been born on American soil.

  He couldn’t claim such a family oriented heritage. He’d never seen a grandparent, or any other family member for that matter. He’d been an army brat, shuttled from base to base with a cold, unfeeling father who didn’t care one way or the other whether his son fit in at the new school or made any friends. He’d been thrown into sometimes overwhelming environments with no parental guidance. Or support. Or love.

  He barely remembered his mother. She had divorced his father and left when he was five and died when he was seven. He’d only discovered that several years ago. The one and only time he’d asked about her, his father had said she was an emotional woman who was weak. His young mind had taken his father’s words and inferred that being emotional made you weak and somehow unlovable. Unacceptable. So he’d learned the languages and customs of each new country and pushed his fear and emotions aside. He’d taken control.

  “Mr. Quinn?”

  “What?” He pulled himself away from his bitter memories.

  “Mr. Osaka has requested that we adjourn for lunch and resume our talks later this evening.” Ted’s expression didn’t falter as he repeated himself even though it was unusual for Logan’s attention to lapse during a negotiation.

  “That’s fine with me.” He rose to his feet and bowed as the older Osaka left. The son lingered.

  “Shall I make arrangements for your entertainment tonight?” Both knew what entertainment he referred to. Logan had enjoyed the high-end bondage clubs during his trips to Japan in the past. This was not the first time he and the Osakas’ had conducted business. Yet another reason why he could have delayed coming to Japan. Why he could have stayed and finished the weekend with Macy.

  He looked at his watch. She should be arriving at the hotel any time. “Thank you T’jang. I do have one or two special requests for tonight.”

  *****

  Macy braced herself when the knock sounded on her hotel room door. She knew it was Logan. She opened the door slowly and was greeted by a giant black scowl.

  “Don’t ever open the door without checking to see who it is,” he ordered.

  “You’re right, I should have checked. Let me try that again.” Macy tried to push the door closed.

  He ignored her sarcastic comment and simply pushed his way inside. She was forced to either move out of the way or feel the brush of his hard body. His dark hair caught the light from the hallway. She had never noticed before how many different shades of black he had in his hair. He was a picture of masculine elegance. His Armani suit was spotless, wrinkle free, and looked as if he’d just put it on.

  Her polyester clothing had not fared well on the twelve hour trip. Her skirt suit and extra white blouse had been wrinkled and creased almost beyond recognition. She’d hung them in the bathroom hoping the steam from the shower would make them look at least presentable before she had to wear them on the trip home.

  “Did you bring the documents?”

  She was dead on her feet; her plane had only landed about an hour ago. Just enough time to make it to the hotel and grab a hot shower. Ted had called her room and informed her Logan would be by shortly to get the documents. She’d offered to let him have them, but he’d refused. Macy pulled the luscious terrycloth robe closer to her body. She was naked underneath and even though the man before her had seen and touched and, oh God, tasted, almost every inch of her body, she felt vulnerable standing in a hotel room with him now.

  “You look tired.” His brows were drawn together in a frown as he stared down at her. She didn’t let her heart melt as it wanted at his small show of concern. They were employee and employer now. Nothing more.

  “You’d look this way too if your boss had ordered you to hop a plane and fly halfway around the world on a moment’s notice,” she said bitchily.

  “Didn’t you sleep on the plane?”

  “No.” She hadn’t slept for a full night since Saturday. The last day she was in his arms.

  He glanced at the watch on his wrist, the gesture one that made Macy’s heart race. The movement pulled the cuff of his white shirt up, revealing a tanned masculine forearm covered with dark hair. The sight of a band of silver encircling a man’s wrist beneath a dress shirt and suit coat was one of the sexist things Macy had ever seen. It reminded her of an older man, a take charge kind of man. A man in control.

  She sighed.

  “You should have time to catch a quick nap before dinner. I have a table booked at the restaurant downstairs. T
he Osakas will be joining us.”

  “Dinner? I’m not going to dinner with you and your clients.”

  Logan’s lips thinned. “Are we really going to have this juvenile conversation, Miss Trent? You will come to dinner.”

  Macy felt her temper rise. What kind of game was he playing? Show off the obedient American secretary? Sure, she’d sat in on meetings before. But they were usually conducted in his office or in the client’s office. He’d never flown her around the world to take shorthand notes. “Well, put a damn recorder in your pocket. I’m going to bed and I’m not getting up until my plane leaves in the morning.”

  With a move so sudden it disconcerted her, his hard mouth fastened roughly on hers. He didn’t give her time to respond. His mouth twisted, parting her lips. It forced her to immediately accept him or reject him. She accepted him.

  Logan told himself all he wanted to do was punish her for the torment he’d suffered wondering where she was yesterday morning. But the minute his lips touched hers, all thought of punishment slipped from his head. Well, not all punishment. He was going to turn her over his knee and make her pay for the hell she’d put him through. It seemed he’d been waiting a lifetime to taste her again. To lose himself in her sweetness and heat.

  Her heat. He wanted to bury his cock to the hilt in her hot little pussy. Take her in a single swift thrust. Growling low in his throat, he gathered her close and nearly lost it right then and there when her bare thigh came in contact with his dick. He acknowledged he’d been primed and ready to blow since she’d left his apartment. No matter how many times he’d jerked off in his empty hotel room, just the thought of her scent or taste had made him hard again.

  What the fuck had the woman done to him?