Rock Star Billionaire: A Standalone Novel (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story)

by Claire Adams

  "Everyone is speculating on the one question you never seem to want to answer. Please tell our viewers, Mr. Colson: how did you come up with the name of your company, Speed Motorcycles?"

  Shit. That was the last thing I wanted to have to talk about on television, especially after just kicking Charles Dorsey out of my office. I stood up and put my hands in front of the camera to hide my expression.

  "Sorry, I forgot I have an important video conference with someone half-way around the world that I really can't delay. It would be an insult to them to keep them waiting. Thanks for coming in, and thanks for the interview. I love your show. I watch it all the time."

  My walking powerfully forward, I managed to force the reporter and his cameraman to stagger backward until I had pushed them out of my office. As soon as they were clear of the threshold, I shut the door in their faces and locked it securely.

  Exhausted, I collapsed into my chair. What a disaster today had been, and it wasn't even lunch yet. I was looking forward to my dinner date with Kayla more than ever. I needed to unwind, and I knew just how I wanted to do it. I had a feeling she would love the kinky new game I had in mind. I just had to make sure she didn't watch the television interview first.

  Chapter Twenty-one: Kayla

  Ethan had left a chauffeured limo for me at the hotel and instructed the driver to take me anywhere I wanted to go. I could see faces peeking through their curtains and pedestrians just stopped and openly stared as the fancy black car pulled to a stop in front of my apartment building.

  I felt wonderfully conspicuous as I walked into my shabby apartment and felt everyone watching my every step. So, this was what it was like to be famous. My cell phone, which I had left at home, was completely dead after having been gone all weekend, and I had to search for my charger. As soon as I plugged it into the wall socket, my phone came blinking to life and I saw I had twenty-eight messages on my voicemail.

  Wow, Ethan had been right. I couldn't believe it. I grabbed a Diet Coke from my nearly empty refrigerator, kicked back on my couch, and listened to them one by one. Everybody had called: my parents, agents searching for clients, the director of marketing for many prominent companies, and even Mick had called to tell me congratulations. It was a heady feeling and I reveled in it. Now it was time to strategize about my career—but first I had to return the most important call on my voicemail.

  "Hi, Mom. It's me."

  "Kayla, sweetheart. Your father and I are so proud of you. He bought nearly every copy of the magazine at the supermarket Saturday morning and has been handing out to everybody in town, bragging that you’re our daughter."

  "I'm pretty sure everybody in town still knows we're related," I giggled. It was a small town and everyone in it knew everyone. Still, it made my heart swell to know my parents were proud of me.

  "The reporters for the gossip magazines are saying that you might be dating the owner of the company. Is it true?" Mom sounded both excited and worried at the same time.

  "We are," I breathed, and it felt more real after saying it to her. True, I had already said it to Ethan's friends Gwyneth and Vick, but that was just telling it to strangers in a moment of jealousy. Saying it aloud to my mother somehow made it transform from a fantasy weekend into a real relationship.

  "Be careful, sweetheart. You don't want to be known as the kind of girl who sleeps with powerful men just to get modeling jobs. I know you're not like that, but men like this Ethan Colson who own million dollar companies, they can trick innocent girls into thinking there's something there when there isn't."

  "I know how to take care of myself, Mom. Don't worry." Had she forgotten that I'd been living in L.A. for the past three years? I knew how to gauge when a man was going to be a sleaze.

  "I know you do, sweetheart, but I've read all the articles about this man. He's known for sleeping with the models on the cover of his magazine and then dumping them. He's also stated numerous times that he'll never be in a serious relationship. I just don't want to see you get hurt."

  "Ethan's been that way in the past, but we have a connection. It's different this time. Trust me, I know him, and this is for real."

  "You thought that with Mick, too. I don't say that hurt you, but you're just getting over a relationship and that can make you particularly vulnerable."

  "Ethan's not like that. I'm smart enough to know the difference between real love and just being used." I was angry now.

  "I know, sweetheart. Just be careful. Don't jump into things with him too fast."

  "I won't," I promised, but it was already too late. After spending an entire weekend in bed together, Ethan already had my heart.

  I spent the rest of the afternoon calling back the agents and marketing directors who had called me, hearing their offers and making appointments with the ones that sounded the most appealing. My schedule for the week had never been so full. By the time I finished the last call, I felt exhausted but exhilarated. I couldn't wait to tell Ethan about it. I glanced at my clock and was startled to see it was already time for our date.

  I dug through my closet and found the new lingerie I had bought as a surprise for Mick, but never wore. It would the perfect outfit for tonight. The black, silk, corseted top had a sweetheart bust line that maximized my cleavage and laced down the back for a sexy look. The matching black silk panties were a high-waisted thong that showed off my round buttocks and long legs. The black, thigh-high stockings attached with a garter belt to the corseted top, like an old-fashioned harlot's, and a pair of black stiletto heels completed the look. The outfit was deliciously naughty, and I slipped on a sweet, little pink cotton dress on top of it for a deceptively innocent outer shell. Ethan was sure to love it, and I was already feeling aroused just thinking about his reaction.

  When I got to his mansion, he opened the front door himself.

  "I gave all the maids and servants the night off," he explained with a sexy grin. He looked fantastic in a dark-blue suit with a pale-blue tie. I thought about what he had done with the last tie he had, and my pussy began to quiver with anticipation.

  "Have a seat. Dinner is ready." He showed me to the dining room where the table had been intimately set for two, with fine china, crystal wine glasses, and a bottle of expensive Merlot chilling in a bucket of ice nearby.

  We dined on delicious cuisine, prepared by his private, French chef. We started with an appetizer of brie cheese crepes with béchamel sauce graniteed, followed by spinach salad with champagne vinaigrette.

  The main course was a mouthwatering filet mignon with a rich brandy crème sauce, and for desert, chocolate mousse. We sat for hours as we ate and talked and laughed and drank.

  Ethan listened avidly as I told him about all the phone calls I'd had that day. He didn't give me unsolicited advice or try to bully me into taking the modeling jobs he wanted me to do like Mick would have done. He just listened and gave me his unconditional support. It felt good to finally get that from a man, and I realized in that moment just how much I'd been craving that all my life.

  "I can't believe I've been hogging the conversation this entire night. Tell me about your day? How was the office?" I blushed, realizing we'd done nothing but talk about me for hours.

  "I don't want to talk about business. I do that all day at work. I want to talk about something else," he said, and his voice suddenly became thicker. The way he was looking at me so lustfully let me know exactly what he had in mind, but I felt like being playful.

  "What if I want to talk about work? Tell me about your day, Ethan," I said with an intentionally petulant pout.

  "I just told you I didn't want to talk about that. Are you being bratty?" His eyes sparked with delight, even as he glowered at me in mock anger.

  "I can be a brat if I want to," I taunted and tossed a green bean from my plate across the table at him.

  With amazing reflexes, he leapt up and yanked me out of my chair. He grabbed my dress and ripped it off my body with his strong hands, tearing the thin, cotton fabric
like it wasn't even there. As I stood before him, trembling in nothing but the sexy, black lingerie, I enjoyed watching his eyes dilate as he looked me up and down, and I felt a distinctive bulge within his slacks press against my thigh.

  "You are a naughty girl, aren't you?" he said with an appreciative growl. He pushed the contents of the dining table onto the floor with one swipe of his arm, causing the dishes to fall to floor with a noisy crash. Glaring at me, he said, "Now, I'm going to teach you how to be good and not such a brat. Bend over the top of this table and spread your legs wide."

  I did as I'd been told, laying my torso flat against the top of the table with my ass sticking up in the air, and my thighs spread wide. Using the cloth napkins from the table, Ethan bound my ankles to the legs of the table, forcing me to keep them that way. Then, he tore my cotton dress into long strips which he used to bind my wrists stretched out in front of me to the legs on the other side of the table, forcing me to stay bent over, with my breasts pressed flat against the hard, wooden surface.

  "Now, naught girl, I'm going to teach you what happens to brats." He sounded threatening, but I wasn't afraid. Indeed, my entire body was quivering with delight as I excitedly waited to discover what pleasures he had in store for me. Was he going to spank me like he did in the hotel or whip me with flogger like he did in the bedroom? The answer surprised me.

  Ethan left the room, and when he returned, he was carrying a long, black, leather whip. The sight of it sent chills down my spine and I shuddered, but my pussy grew slick with the juices of my arousal.

  He cracked it in the air, and the sound of it was fearfully loud. Then, he coiled it around his hand and rubbed the leather braid against the bare skin of my upper thigh where my stockings didn't cover them and up around my naked butt cheeks. He pushed my thong aside and found my lips were wet and ready, and he gently massaged me there, making me moan with pleasure. Then, he inserted the handle of the whip inside my slippery slot, fucking me with it there.

  I strained within my bonds as my pleasure grew, and the sound of my panting and moaning echoed off the dining room walls.

  "I'm going to come," I gasped as I felt my orgasm drawing near, and that's when Ethan suddenly and cruelly withdrew the handle, abruptly ceasing the stimulation moments before I could climax.

  "No, naughty girl. Only good girls get to orgasm," he snarled, and I realized then what my punishment would be.

  He stepped back away from me then, unfurled the whip and gave me a few light flicks with it on the fleshy part of my thighs and buttocks. It stung painfully, and I yelped out with every smack of the leather on my delicate flesh; but he was an expert, and knew just how to wield the weapon without breaking the skin or causing me serious harm. The pain was more emotional than anything: humiliating me like a small child being beaten by a disapproving father.

  After just a few strikes with the whip, he returned to my side to fondle my pussy with his fingers. I was even wetter than before and he fucked me this his fingers, delighting in the feel of me.

  Soon, I was panting and gasping with pleasure again, but once again, he denied me the ecstasy of orgasm and stopped just short of letting me climax. He drew back, and whipped me again, using careful strokes of the whip on my butt cheeks while I struggled and cried out in pain.

  When he returned to me a third time, he entered me with his cock. It felt like heaven, and I prayed that this time he would fuck me until we both came.

  "Please let me come on your cock. I'll be a good girl, I promise. Please just let me come on your cock," I begged pathetically.

  "You've learned your lesson not to defy me or be bratty?" Ethan asked sternly as he stroked inside me with deep, powerful thrusts of his mighty dick.

  "Yes, I've learned my lesson. I'll always obey your every word," I vowed.

  "Good girl. Now let's see if you mean it." He pulled out of me and released the bonds on my wrists and ankles. He commanded me to climb on top of the table and masturbate for him. I did as I'd been told, laying on the table with my fingers stimulating my most delicate folds until I was writhing and screaming as I orgasmed.

  Suddenly, Ethan grabbed me by the thighs and pulled me to him where he was standing at the edge of the table. He wrapped my thighs around his waist and plunged into my pulsating pussy, entering me at the exact moment I was vibrating with orgasm.

  I threw back my head and screamed out loud with the intensity of my pleasure as wave after wave of intense pleasure threatened to tear me apart, as he fucked me into new and greater heights of ecstasy. I never knew it was possible to orgasm during an orgasm, and the levels of pure euphoria my body could achieve. My screams echoed off the ceiling and walls as my climax seemed to last forever.

  "That was incredible," I gasped, as slowly our breathing returned to normal when at last our joint orgasms had come to an end.

  "You're incredible." He kissed me lovingly. "I hope I didn't hurt you too much."

  "You could never hurt me," I said naively, not knowing just how wrong I was. I looked at the pile of plates, glasses, and food that was spilled all over the floor and gasped. "I guess we'd better clean that up."

  "No, just leave it. I'll give the maids an extra-large bonus in the morning. Let's go take a shower."

  "I don't feel right about just leaving it for them," I fussed. "You go take a shower, I'll stay and clean this up quickly and then I'll join you."

  "Are you disobeying me again?" He glared playfully, making a mock angry scowl as he pulled me close and kissed my lips lovingly.

  "No, sir. I'll be a good girl." I grinned at him with sparkling eyes and let him lead me upstairs to the shower in his massive bedroom suite.

  The hot water felt good on my skin, but there were painful welts on my ass that made me wince when the spray of water hit them.

  "I have a salve in my top drawer that will sooth the pain and help them heal faster," he said apologetically.

  "I'll find it," I said, as I wrapped a soft towel around my body and left him to enjoy the hot water for a few minutes alone.

  The salve was easy to find in his dresser drawer and I sighed with relief as I applied to cool cream to my sensitive skin.

  "I don't have anything to put on. You tore my dress," I called out, as I heard Ethan exiting the shower.

  "Look in the box under my bed," he called out. I did and found a large box wrapped with a pink paper with a ribbon tied in an intricate bow. Like an eager child on Christmas morning, I ripped into the box and gasped at the beautiful, cashmere pajamas inside, as well as panties and a camisole top. They fit perfectly and felt wonderfully soft on my skin.

  Feeling comfy and playful, I jumped on his bed and piled the pillows behind me, so I was sitting up. It reminded me of when I was kid and I would watch television in my parents’ bed. I found the remote control easily on his nightstand and turned it on. An image of Ethan filled the screen. He was being interviewed by a reporter on a popular show.

  "Hey, look. It's you!" I cried out happily, but Ethan stuck his head out of the bathroom door and pointed at the cell phone in his hand.

  "Someone just called. It might be important."

  I knew it would be one of the downfalls of being in a relationship with a billionaire. Ethan would constantly have demands on his time and people desperately needing his attention. The secret would be for me to have something that kept me busy of my own; something that fulfilled me and made me feel happy. My modeling career was the perfect solution.

  Since Ethan was on the phone, I decided to enjoy watching the interview. The reporter was talking to him about the party Friday night.

  "The All American is an impressive motorcycle, but what everyone's really buzzing about is this ravishing model you have showcasing the bike on the cover and the inside photo spread. Who is she and where did you find her?" the reporter asked, making my heart skip a beat.

  "Miss Kayla Brandt. She came into our L.A. offices during our walk-in auditions with no agent and virtually no experience. But when she got
on that bike, she just blew me away. You can see she has a natural charm that just lights up the page. When she smiles into the camera, you feel like she's smiling just at you. I knew I had to have her for the cover."

  "It looks like the two of you were quite cozy at the launch party. Tell me, is there anything between the two of you?"

  "Miss Brandt did a terrific job showcasing the All American in this month's issue of Speed Magazine. I respect her tremendously and felt a real connection with her when we were working together on the cover shoot. So it was really good to see her again at the party."

  "Are the rumors true that you two are now a couple?" the reporter pressed.

  I felt my heart leap into my throat. I couldn't wait to hear Ethan validate our relationship on national television. I'd never been one who needed to show off my romantic relationships publically, but this would validate it to everyone who had their doubts (like my mother) that what we had for each other was real. What came next out of Ethan's mouth hit me like a punch to the gut, and made me double over, gasping for breath.

  "No, we're just very close friends."

  How could he say that? How could he deny our relationship like that, after the weekend at the hotel and now tonight in the dining room?

  I realized that my mother had been right. Ethan wasn't invested in our relationship like I was. To him, I was nothing more than the flavor of the month; this issue’s model to fuck and then toss aside when the next issue came out. It made me sick to my stomach, and yet I couldn't stop watching the interview.

  Now the reporter was asking him about something different. "Everyone is speculating on the one question you never seem to want to answer. Please tell our viewers now, Mr. Colson: how did you come up with the name of your company, Speed Motorcycles?"

  Ethan turned ghostly pale and held up his hand covering the lens. "Sorry, I forgot I have an important video conference with someone half-way around the world that I really can't delay. It would be an insult to them to keep them waiting. Thanks for coming in and thanks for the interview. I love your show. I watch it all the time."