Pick Up: A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance

by Lucy Wild

  I took a step towards her and she noticed me at last, glancing across before jerking back in her seat. “Oh, hi, “she said, getting to her feet, her cheeks colouring. “I didn’t see you there.”

  “Apparently not,” I replied, glancing down at her top, seeing her tits straining against the fabric. It might be faded grey with a slogan I didn’t understand but inside it was something remarkable. I thought about sliding my cock between those tits and it twitched again with a growing need.

  “I called down about a laptop needing fixing.”

  “Oh, okay. Where is it?”

  Where is it? Shit, I forgot to bring one down with me. In charge of a giant corporation, the fate of thousands of people in my hands and I can’t remember to take a laptop to I.T when I told them I had a laptop to fix. Well done me. So much for smooth, suave and sophisticated.

  “I’ll bring it down,” I said, fixing a confident smile on my face, glancing down at those lips of hers for a brief second, thinking of that tongue that stuck out when she was looking at the computer, thinking of how that tongue would look gliding along the shaft of my cock. “Thought I’d come down and put a face to a name first.”

  She wilted under my gaze and I knew then that this was going to be easy. She was flustered, fanning herself with a computer parts catalogue she had grabbed off the desk next to her. “Right,” she said. “Right,” she echoed herself.

  I felt like laughing. She was breathing heavily, her chest heaving up and down and I noticed from the corner of my eye that her fingers were trembling. I fixed her in my warmest gaze, the one that had worked with that supermodel, the one who refused to open her legs for any guy, no matter how rich. Until I gave her the look.

  “When are you free to take a look at it?”

  “Huh?” she blinked those big round blue eyes of hers as if she was in a trance.

  “My laptop, when can you take a look.”

  “Oh, right. Erm, bring it down this afternoon? Is that all right?”

  “That’s absolutely fine, thank you, Jen.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said, smiling demurely, looking as innocent as she possibly could.

  What would happen to that smile when she found out what I had planned to do to her? Would it turn to shock or delight? Well, there was only going to be one way to find out. I was going to take what I wanted and what I wanted was her.

  THREE - JEN

  I ARRIVED HOME TO THE sound of arguing. Living in the city meant the luxury of a house to myself was an impossible dream. I was crammed into a flat above a Chinese takeaway with two housemates, Gareth and Sally. The three of us met online via one of those room letting websites. That had been a year ago and in that time they had got engaged, broken up, got together again and now were supposed to be planning a future life of wedded bliss.

  “Maybe if you didn’t need two thousand bouquets we could afford somewhere less shitty,” Gareth was shouting as I closed the door behind me. I sighed, leaning back against it as Sarah replied.

  “Don’t exaggerate just because you want the reception to be in the sodding Lamb and Flag.”

  “What’s wrong with that?”

  “It’s hardly Merchant Ivory and virginal white is it?”

  “How would you know what virginal looks like?”

  I crossed the landing. I wanted to cook but there was no chance of squeezing into the kitchen while they were still arguing in there. Even if I did, my cupboard contained stock cubes, salt, and dried pasta. It wasn’t exactly going to be a banquet tonight.

  I sat on my bed, the mouth watering smell of Chinese cooking wafting up through the open window. I left it open all the time, the only way to stop black mould from spreading like a plague across the wallpaper. It meant the room was freezing but what choice did I have? I’d need a job that paid twice as much to get anywhere decent and that wasn’t going to happen anytime soon.

  With two blankets wrapped around me, I curled up on the bed and closed my eyes, trying to drown out their argument by losing myself in a daydream.

  It wasn’t easy with Sally refusing to say how many people she had slept with and Gareth demanding in ever increasing volume that he had every right to know the answer.

  I knew how many I’d slept with. One. Aged fourteen, I’d somehow managed to get a boyfriend, even now I’m not sure how it happened. I think it was because I had a much better computer than him, seeing as he spent most of his time at my house playing multiplayer WW2 shooters. “Do you love me?” I asked him once.

  “I love your internet speed,” he replied and I got the sinking feeling that he wasn’t joking.

  At sixteen, we’d decided to do it, to go all the way. It had lasted two minutes. Our relationship had ended two minutes after that, him cheerfully informing me that he was “only in it to see what colour your pubes were.”

  I swore off men then. Computers were more reliable. They made sense. Which was all fine. Until today.

  With my eyes closed I could again picture the man who’d turned up in front of my desk.

  It was just a coincidence that I was even there. During the day the office was pretty much empty, all of us running from one floor to another, fighting to keep everyone online and working, not easy with the cuts to our department in the last couple of years. We’d lost ten people who hadn’t been replaced and our work had increased fourfold since then.

  Sometimes I dreamed of confronting the money men, telling them that if things crashed to the ground because we were too exhausted to keep going, they’d only have themselves to blame.

  I didn’t confront them. I liked the idea of keeping my job. It wasn’t perfect but it was a job and that was more than a lot of people had.

  I had returned to the office because for once I’d got a job finished early, the old turn it off and on again working well. As I got there I got a call about a laptop needing fixing so I scrawled a note on my to do list then booted up my own computer.

  With the place to myself, I had a few spare minutes so I loaded up my favourite website. I won’t say the name but it’s one of those online romance story collections. I can’t sit reading my Kindle at work but with an internet window open, I look as busy as anyone else while having a sneaky few minutes getting my heart racing, dreaming of my own shirtless pirate captain dragging me away to ravish me on a tropical island. Or my other favourite, a dominating Victorian mill owner, draping me over his knee to spank me for not working hard enough.

  Then a hero from one of my stories just appeared in front of me like I’d conjured him straight off the page.

  I could hardly speak. One minute I’m reading about clothes being torn off by a stern alpha male and the next there’s one stood there smirking at me.

  I didn’t recognise him but that wasn’t uncommon. In this building alone there was more than a thousand people and we had executives coming and going from the international offices all the time.

  I nearly fell out of my seat when I saw him. My first thought was that I’d been caught, that someone had been remotely watching my laptop and he was from H.R, come to tell me to pack my things and get out, that smut reading on work time was not acceptable.

  I felt a wave of guilt wash over me as I blurted out a greeting. Had he seen the screen? Were my cheeks as flushed as they felt?

  His eyes had scanned down me and I felt under scrutiny like never before. Trust it to be the day when I’d walked to work. I’d run out of money for the bus and pay day wasn’t for another week, leaving me marching the entire journey and still sweaty when he appeared. I bet I looked a wreck.

  “I called down about a laptop needing fixing.”

  That was when I remembered the phone call. I’d been so engrossed in my story that I’d forgotten about taking that call.

  What I liked, once I’d gotten over the shock of how good he looked, was that he didn’t ask if there was a man who could look at it for him. Far too often, people would come to I.T and assume I was some kind of secretary, that women couldn’t possibly u
nderstand how computers work. It had infuriated me at first but eventually, I got used to the casual sexism.

  Not him though. He looked at me and clearly thought I.T geek through and through.

  “Oh, okay. Where is it?”

  He frowned for a second as if furious at being asked the question and then he just said, “I’ll bring it down.”

  He smiled at me then and I melted in my place. Not only was he fucking hot, he had a smile that cut through my panties and made me want to rip my own clothes off, beg him to fuck me.

  It was a stupid dream of course. Even when I was standing there, I knew it was impossible. A guy like that, he probably had about six girlfriends, one for each night of the week and then all together on a Friday night. Me? In my laundry day tee-shirt and sweaty as hell? I wasn’t going to be joining in his high class orgies any time soon.

  He headed off without looking back. I watched him go with two thoughts in my head. One was that when he came back, I’d do my best to look more presentable. The other was that I couldn’t wait to see him again.

  Sure, he was only smiling because he needed me to fix his computer. Once I’d done that, he’d forget I even existed. But that didn’t mean I couldn’t dream about things.

  I lay on my bed that night, Gareth and Sally’s argument finally fading into angry make up sex, the walls thin enough for me to hear every grunt. With my eyes closed, I thought about my visitor again. In my head he blurred into the mill owner.

  “Jennifer Murphy,” he growled, grabbing my arm and dragging me onto his lap. “Time for you to learn your lesson, you wicked girl.”

  I screamed and protested, squirming to free myself but he was too strong for me, lifting the back of my skirts, his hand slapping down on my panties, spanking me red as I promised I’d do better tomorrow.

  I wasn’t stuttering or shy in my daydream, I was submissive but in control, not the nervous wreck I had been when he’d spoken to me, my hands shaking so hard I’d had to clasp them behind my back. He’d looked down at my chest when I did that. I wanted to think he’d done it to stare at my boobs, to think of what I looked like naked. I knew that he was just disgusted with my tee-shirt, seeing how faded and lint covered it was.

  Still, there was no harm in dreaming. I hoped he’d come back early in the morning. I might explode if he took too long. My mind yearned to see him again, to bring a little excitement to my dull little corner of the world. I was still dreaming while I cooked up some pasta, sitting and eating with a stupid smile on my face as I wondered what my mystery man would think if he found out about my daydreams, about how much I was aching for him to be in me. It was a stupid dream, to think of him wanting someone like me. But stupid or not, I dreamed it nonetheless.

  FOUR - WILL

  ANOTHER BOARDROOM MEETING, ANOTHER HOUR of my life gone that I’d never get back. I didn’t even bother contributing, just sat there scowling for no real reason other than I was bored. Bored in the club, bored at work. Bored at home was worst of all.

  Last night, I’d stood and looked out of the window, watching the cars moving along the city streets, the tiny ant like people scurrying home at the end of a long day. I felt apart from it all, no longer connected.

  I had vacuumed up so much money, there wasn’t a lot for me to do but enjoy it and I had enjoyed it, for a while at least.

  I turned away from the window and looked at the space before me. It suddenly seemed very empty, very lonely. Was that the problem? Was the eternal bachelor wanting to settle down? It was an amusing thought, me in a sweater with elbow patches, pipe in the corner of my mouth, ruffling boy’s hair while girl did homework and wifey was in the kitchen baking cookies. Would she bring me my slippers too? Why did thought of family take me back to the 1950s? Maybe I should swap my state of the art sound system for a wind up gramophone. Get the ball rolling.

  There had been one flash of excitement that stopped me slumping into a corner. Her name was Jen. I thought about her last night and I thought about her during the meeting. Afterwards I was going down to see that body of hers again.

  I had set things up properly this time. I wasn’t going to turn up without a computer like a bloody idiot.

  Before going to bed last night, I’d looked up a range of tricky but solvable laptop problems, researching the most common ones for my model and then trying to make them happen.

  It was farcical really. I had a perfectly functioning machine and I’d spent three hours in the end knackering it up so it didn’t work. It had been a fiddly job but worth it because now I had an excuse to see her again.

  The meeting broke up at ten and I headed for my office, marching so fast I was almost running. People got out of my way, none of them wanting to be the one who slowed the boss down.

  With the laptop under my arm, I headed for my lift, swapping for the normal one and then heading down to the basement.

  Jen Murphy. Jen. Jenny. Jennifer. Her of the big tits and the soft looking lips. What if she wasn’t there? What if she was out on a job and I had to deal with someone else?

  The thought hadn’t occurred to me before but my sabotaging brain happened to suggest that question as I stepped out of the lift. Thanks brain, I thought.

  I didn’t like the idea of her working with lots of men. If I had my way, she’d be working in my office, just with me.

  She had gotten under my skin in a way no other woman ever had after just one encounter. At the club, I could have clicked my finger and had a girl sucking my dick a second later. That wasn’t interesting. Where was the thrill of the chase? What’s the good of fox hunting if the fox just rolls over and says kill me? Or shooting ducks who can’t fly? I wanted to hunt her, chase her, then catch her.

  There’s no fun in keeping if you don’t get to spend time catching. I was going to catch her. If she wasn’t there, I’d just wait until she came back. What were they going to do, ask the C.E.O to leave?

  The office was empty again. The only sound was the whirring of the air conditioning and the thudding of my heart as I cursed her for not being here waiting for me. She was already heading towards a spanking.

  But she was there. I just hadn’t noticed her. She was at the back in the tiny little kitchen area, making a coffee.

  She had her back to me and I was able to stare at her ass without her knowing I was there. She was wearing a more professional outfit than yesterday. A charcoal grey pencil skirt clung to her hips, showing me the exact shape of her ass and making my cock throb with desire at the sight. As she turned around with coffee in hand, I took in her white shirt, boobs straining to be free from it. Fuck, she looked even hotter than yesterday. How was that even possible? She’d done something to her hair but I didn’t know what, I just knew I wanted her more than ever.

  “Hi,” I said as she stopped dead, her spoon suddenly clinking against the side of her mug. Her hands were shaking again. She grabbed the spoon and put it on the counter behind her, turning back to see I’d moved closer, stalking her while she’d looked away.

  “Hello,” she said, glancing down at my trousers for a second. Could she see the bulge down there? So what if she did. She’d soon get a chance to see it outside my trousers and inside her mouth.

  “I brought my laptop down for you.”

  “Great,” she said. “I’ll just put my coffee down.”

  I followed her to her desk, watching that ass of hers the entire time. Fuck, what I wouldn’t give to just grab her and fuck her there and then.

  “How long do you think it’ll take to fix?”

  “Depends what’s wrong with it,” she replied, glancing back over her shoulder.

  “I need one for work,” I replied, snatching up the open one on her desk. She went to reach for it but I’d already closed the lid. “Don’t mind if I take this?”

  “N…no,” she stuttered, her cheeks flushing. Was it because her hand had lightly brushed the back of mine when she’d reached out or was it because of how close I was to her?

  I could smell her.
She smelt good, a perfume that reminded me of roses.

  “Can you let me know when it’s sorted?”

  “S…sure.”

  “Great,” I said, turning away. “Thanks Jen.”

  I had to turn away. I’d gone from half hard to rigid as a tent pole and any longer facing her, it would have brushed against her stomach. From where I’d stood, I could see the gap between two of her shirt buttons. I’d caught a glimpse of a lacy bra cup and the swell of her breast and if I didn’t get out of there I’d have to have her.

  I stood in the lift trying to calm myself down. What was wrong with me? I was like a teenager lusting after my first crush. I couldn’t stop thinking about running my hands over that body of hers, slapping her ass red for some slight, listening to her shriek of delight when I finally let her come.

  I needed to calm down. When I got to my office I went through to the bathroom and splashed cold water on my face, half expecting it to turn to steam when it hit the heat radiating off me.

  I got myself half calm, long enough to sit down and open up the laptop but the sight before me got me hard again in under a second.

  She had left an internet window open, no wonder she’d tried to stop me taking her laptop to use. My eyes quickly scanned the text and then I started scrolling up, seeing what kind of story it was that she was reading. It was a fucking hot one.

  It wasn’t the greatest work of fiction ever but the thought of her sitting all prim and proper, engrossed in a tale of spanking and sex like this, well I couldn’t wait any longer.

  I picked up the phone and rang her number. She picked up at once. “Hello?”

  “When it’s fixed, bring it to my office,” I snapped, keeping the excitement out of my voice, not wanting her to know that I knew a secret about her, something I doubted she’d shared with anyone.

  “What floor are you on?”

  “The fiftieth.”

  “Are you easy to find?”

  “Should be. Just look for the door marked C.E.O.”

  “The C.E.O? You mean you’re Mr Bailey?” She sounded scared, her voice high. No doubt she was trying to think of how she’d spoken to me, if she’d been polite enough. “I didn’t realise. If I’d known-”