Bound to the Billionaire

by Natalie Dae

  Every time I focused on his face, he was watching me with that same dominant intensity, an unspoken reminder that I was experiencing this rapidly building pleasure because he was allowing it. That, combined with his almost violent fucking, brought me to the edge of climax. He must have been able to feel how desperately close I was, because he ordered, “Now, Mia. Come for me right now.”

  Had he just commanded me to orgasm? If I hadn’t been right there on the brink, the idea that I could come just because he wanted me to would have been ridiculous. But I was almost there, and the idea of him being in control of my body’s reactions turned me on so much further that I cried out sharply, my cunt tightening and releasing in heated waves as euphoria rushed through me.

  As I gave in to sensation, he pounded into me urgently, taking what he needed to finish himself off. Breathing heavily, he collapsed on top of me, murmuring something I couldn’t make out against my neck. He rolled us a little to take most of his weight from me, pulling me as close as he could, as if he were trying to merge our bodies. The warmth of his chest felt heavenly against my sensitive breasts, and I clung to him as the aftershocks faded, too satisfied, too out of breath, to do anything else. My wrists felt tender and my legs were trembling, but I didn’t care. He just felt too good. I didn’t want to let go of him.

  After a couple of minutes, Dean eased me to one side and slid out of me before sitting up to dispose of the condom. I pulled my panties back on self-consciously, all too aware that his life was still in danger and I’d let him talk me into lowering my guard for God knew how long.

  I still had to get Dean out of here alive, and that would be all the more difficult now I knew exactly how much the idea of his death terrified me.

  Chapter Five

  We dressed in silence, and with every second that passed, my heart sank a little more. It had been a mistake to let things go that far. Maybe he was used to obedience and I’d freaked him out with my challenging behaviour. I’d even had the urge to try to push him away while he’d been inside me, to make him forcibly take what I wanted him to have. God knows even I don’t know where that came from.

  After I’d laced my boots and stood up from where I’d been sitting on the edge of the bed, he caught my wrist and pulled me into his arms. His kiss was short, possessive yet reassuring, and I submitted freely to it, letting myself be vulnerable for a few more guilty seconds.

  “Hey—any news?”

  Hearing Rick’s voice in the middle of a blissful kiss was enough to ruin the mood, and I knew Dean could hear the communication, if not make out the exact words. Sighing, I extricated myself from his arms and turned my back on him, switching on my microphone.

  “Hey. I think we’re almost ready to leave. Let me check.”

  I shot a questioning look at Dean, who nodded and took out his phone. “I’ll call for the limo.”

  I filled Rick in and asked how the club’s surroundings looked. After confirming everything seemed safe and promising to check in when the limo arrived, he signed off and I cut the microphone again.

  Dean finished up his call and slid his phone into his pocket. “Come here.”

  I shook my head, holding up a hand and stepping back to let him see that I wasn’t fucking with his head this time. “I wish I could, but I have to get my mind straight so I can get you out of here safely.”

  He must have read the unspoken plea in my words, because he nodded. It didn’t stop a flash of amusement from crossing his features, though. “Are you telling me you can’t think straight when I get too close?”

  I guessed he was entitled to a little arrogance, after the glorious orgasm he’d managed to wring from me during such a quick fuck. “Yes, sir.”

  “Good,” he said, and grinned.

  I smiled despite myself, turning away so he wouldn’t see it. I doubted it fooled him, though.

  Rick got back to me faster than I’d expected. “Limo’s here. What’s your ETA?”

  “Look out for us in two minutes.” I unlocked the door and pulled it open before Dean could tempt me into one last kiss. “We’re on our way.”

  I led him down the corridor and made him wait just before the end so I could check out the staircase curving down. It was clear, so we descended into the bar area downstairs.

  It was a little more crowded, which made me instantly on edge. I clicked on my microphone in case something happened, knowing Rick would hear the background noise and know I was on the alert. He’d leave me to it for now, but would be prepared to come to my side if need be, which was exactly how I wanted it. I scanned the area, but nothing jumped out at me as instantly suspicious, so I motioned for Dean to follow me.

  “Mia.” There was an edge to his voice that made me stop and turn towards him instantly. “I don’t recognise the bartender.”

  He was tense, but to his credit not staring in the direction he wanted me to look. I gave him a tiny nod and flicked my eyes over to the bar for a second, then put myself between the guy who hadn’t been there before and Dean without making it obvious. “Rick, has there been a change of shift at the bar? Client doesn’t recognise the bartender.”

  “No. Shit. Keep your eyes peeled—I’ll check what’s what with the manager.”

  “Got it.” I looked over at Dean, who was focused on me with his jaw clenched. My bad feeling grew when I saw the protective look in his eyes—he was going to try to keep me safe if it came down to it. Fuck. Why does sex always complicate things?

  “Dean, I need you to head for the door as casually as you can, okay?”

  “What about you?”

  “It’s you they’re after. I’m fine. Go.”

  He hesitated, eyes stormy, and I hissed at him, “Don’t even start with that male egotistical bullshit. I can protect myself. Now turn and go. I’ll be right behind you.”

  He nodded tersely and turned away, making a beeline for the door, but even as he did I saw the group of people who would have blocked the bartender’s shot begin to move towards the dungeon area of the club.

  “Fuck. Rick, I need backup right now.”

  I turned and drew my weapon simultaneously, but the bartender’s was already out and aiming past me—right at Dean. I’d have no time to aim properly before shooting, and I couldn’t afford to miss.

  Taking the only option left, I threw myself between Dean and the shooter, praying that he wouldn’t go for a headshot, launching myself as high into the air as I could to make up for the height difference between Dean and me.

  It took less than two seconds for it all to play out, but it felt like an eternity. My feet left the ground, and as gravity exerted its pull on me I was sure I’d jumped too early. But then I heard the gun go off, the sound sending an extra spike of adrenaline into my bloodstream even as something hit me in the chest so hard that it shocked the breath out of me. Pain flared through me in a double-whammy—first where the bullet embedded itself in my Kevlar vest, then again along my side as I hit the floor. My weapon jolted out of my fingers as I landed, and if I’d been able to breathe I would have uttered a curse worthy of a pirate.

  People were screaming and running, and I hoped like hell that Dean had taken advantage of the panic to get out of sight, because the chances of me being able to take the shooter down before he targeted Dean again were practically non-existent. I had to try, though.

  Groaning, I rolled onto my hands and knees, but before I could locate my weapon I heard two sharp, staccato shots in rapid succession.

  Oh, God, I’m too late. Dean…

  I’d fucked up, and now he was dead.

  I looked around for my weapon frantically, shoving the pain to one side and dragging anger into its place. I was going to kill the son of a bitch if it was the last thing I ever did. Where the hell was my gun? I needed—

  “Mia.”

  Before I could process the fact that the voice I was hearing was Dean’s, he was crouching beside me, and I heard Rick’s voice both in my earpiece and from across the room. “Shooter’s dow
n. We’re clear.”

  I stared at Dean, who was pale but completely alive, as he encouraged me to lean against him.

  “Did he hit you?” he asked urgently.

  I slid up the front of my shirt as an answer, still too winded to waste breath on speaking. The bullet had hit me just to the right of my sternum—it might not have been fatal if my body armour hadn’t stopped it, but I’d have been looking at a punctured lung at the very least. We both stared down at the bullet embedded in the Kevlar for a moment, then Dean pulled me into his lap and held me so tightly I saw stars.

  “You might wanna let her breathe, buddy,” Rick said, sounding amused. “She probably feels like a horse kicked her in the chest.”

  Dean loosened his grip instantly, and I sucked in a couple of breaths before attempting to speak. “What the hell happened? I heard shots, but…”

  “I shot him.” Dean reached around to the back of his pants and produced my Glock, but wouldn’t give it to me when I reached for it. I scowled at him, and he scowled right back until I couldn’t help but laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation—he was trying to Dom me when we’d just been a hair’s breadth from losing our lives.

  Dean and Rick exchanged concerned looks. “Did she hit her head?” Rick asked.

  “Not that I saw.”

  I shook my head. “You shot him?”

  “Your gun fell near you. I picked it up. He was about to fire, but I got him.” Despite the lightness of his tone, I could tell Dean wasn’t dealing with it too well. I’d had to shoot people before, but I was pretty sure he hadn’t.

  Irritated, I struggled to my feet. “I told you to get out of here.”

  “And I made the decision not to.” Dean got to his feet too, and stared at me as if he expected me to back down and apologise for snapping at him.

  “Jesus,” Rick interjected, “you two are gonna go at this now? The cops are on their way, and you need to give statements, then you never have to see each other again if you don’t want to. Just chill.”

  I didn’t have the energy to argue. Instead, I turned my back on them both and walked over to the bar, to stare down at the body of the guy who’d shot me. He was short and stocky, unremarkable-looking, and he was staring sightlessly towards the stairs. Dean had double-tapped the general region of his heart, which was pretty impressive, I had to admit. Then again, he could afford the shooting lessons.

  I touched the bullet-hole in my shirt, digging my finger through it to the metal beneath. Close call.

  Would I have been more alert if I hadn’t let my attraction to Dean get to me? Would I have been able to take the guy down before things got out of hand?

  I didn’t know, and I probably never would. What I did know, though, was that until Dean had signed this agreement, things were going to be strictly business between us.

  Chapter Six

  When I spoke to my boss on the phone, he told me to take a couple of weeks off. I wasn’t in any shape to argue—this wasn’t my first gig by a long shot, but it was the first bullet I’d thrown myself in front of with so little hope of salvaging the situation, and the first time I’d been personally invested in a client who’d actually been in immediate danger.

  After giving the police my statement, I wandered over to Dean’s side. “I’m taking some time off, but I know the rest of the guys will take good care of you until tomorrow afternoon. You okay?”

  He nodded, looking exhausted and a little haunted. “Fucked up how far some people will go to preserve their six-figure salaries. We still don’t know exactly who’s behind it, but we think our regular bartender took a bribe to let the guy in through the back door. We can’t find him, so he’s probably not coming back.” Running a hand through his hair, he sighed. “I don’t think I actually really believed anyone would try anything until tonight.”

  I bit my tongue to keep myself from telling him that had been obvious from the risks he’d taken, but he saw the expression on my face and sighed. “Thanks for not saying ‘I told you so’.”

  “What was this meeting tonight even about?” I asked, leaning against the wall next to him.

  To his credit, he looked embarrassed. “Nothing that couldn’t have waited a few days. I was just too stir-crazy to sit around doing nothing, though.”

  I could have told him he’d been reckless and arrogant, but his expression told me he knew it. I kept quiet and watched the coroner zip up the body bag containing the shooter.

  The tone of Dean’s voice called my attention back to him. “God, when I saw you throw yourself in the path of that bullet, I thought I’d lost you. I forgot about the bulletproof vest. I watched you fall and I would have done anything to go back and cancel the meeting, so we’d stayed at home where we’d both have been safe.”

  He was staring at the body bag, not at me, but I could tell he’d meant the words. I put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, wanting to hug him but knowing the intimacy would seem strange to those around us.

  Dean turned his gaze on me, covering my hand with his. “I’m sorry. I gambled with your life and nearly lost.”

  “Apology accepted.” I pulled away before I could get too drawn into the moment, then took the pen I’d borrowed from the officer who’d taken my statement and scribbled my number down on a bar coaster.

  Handing the coaster to Dean, I smiled a little. “Give me a call tomorrow after your meeting, so I know you survived?”

  “You can count on it.” His voice was slightly husky, and I knew his imagination was skipping ahead, exactly as mine was.

  I walked away before I did something stupid…like kneel at his feet and ask him to take me home with him.

  * * * *

  Less than twenty-four hours later, I pulled my car up in Dean’s driveway, killed the engine and took a deep breath. He was officially bodyguard-free, and I was here for reasons of pleasure rather than business.

  His meeting had gone off without a hitch, in a boardroom on his own turf, guarded by three of my co-workers—two outside the door and one standing by his side. The paperwork had been signed, the measures put in place for a greener, more socially responsible Tremaine Group, and Dean’s death would change nothing now the meeting had been concluded.

  He was safe, and I was about to do the one thing I’d longed to do since I’d realised he was sexually dominant as well as professionally—submit to him completely.

  When he’d called me earlier, the phone call had been longer than I’d expected. He’d wanted to know what I’d be uncomfortable with, what I’d rather not try, and some of his questions had been about things I’d never even thought about before. I’d been as honest as I could, but I was beginning to realise just how deep and diverse the BDSM subculture could be. I didn’t know if I’d sink or swim, but I wanted to at least try.

  Nervously, I glanced in the rear view mirror. I looked about as good as I was going to look—and if I could attract a guy while wearing Kevlar, I doubted he’d run in the other direction if I approached him in the outfit I’d chosen tonight.

  Before I could leave my car, my phone vibrated on the passenger seat. I picked it up and glanced at the text message.

  When you’re finished checking your reflection, just come straight inside. The door’s unlocked.

  Mortified, I scowled through the windshield, wondering which of the many windows Dean was spying on me from. He was great at putting me off-balance, at taking the advantage and pulling every one of my strings. I was fairly sure I was about to surprise him, though.

  I left the car and made for the front door. As Dean’s text had said, it was unlocked, and I let myself in quietly. The foyer was deserted, and I hesitated, trying to decide which doorway I should try peeking through first.

  His voice stopped me before I could pick, though. “I almost expected you to show up wearing body armour.”

  I grinned up towards the top of the stairs, where Dean was leaning over the banister. His attire made me blink, then my pulse kicked up a notch. Black pants—fuck, a
re they real leather?—and nothing above the waist. At all.

  “I almost expected you to be wearing a shirt, but then again, this isn’t the first time you’ve pulled this trick on me.” The memory of him freshly showered and practically naked made me want to purr. Shaking off the image, I unbuttoned my knee-length coat slowly, taking care not to let the material flap open and ruin the revelation of my outfit—if I could call it that. Though I was concentrating on my task, the soft sounds of his footsteps approaching clued me in that he was getting closer.

  “And no,” I added, looking up as he halted a couple of feet away from me, “no body armour today.”

  He watched me with the same predatory hunger that had put my mind in a spin at the club. “Take it off.”

  It was without doubt an order, and I held his eyes, keeping a grip on both my coat and my free will for a moment longer. I saw him process that, but before more than a slight flicker of concern had a chance to cross his features, I shrugged the coat off my shoulders, revealing the skimpy black and red lace lingerie beneath.

  Dean stared at the complete lack of decent clothing I was wearing, right down to the stockings and stilettos, and raised an eyebrow. “Every time I think I’ve got you figured out…”

  I shivered at his appreciative gaze, and let him pull my coat out of my grasp without resistance. He dropped it to the ground, out of my reach, and stepped up so close to me that I could feel the body heat radiating from him. He tangled his fingers in my hair, dragged my head back so he could search my expression. “No resistance tonight?”

  I wet my lips before speaking. “No, sir.”

  “Why the change?” His grip tightened in an unspoken indication that I shouldn’t lie to him.