The Billionaire's Christmas Bargain: Billionaires in Bondage, Book 3

by Joely Sue Burkhart

  Wow, Harvey didn’t know that his parents had been involved in a ménage with Gordon? For years? Decades even? That seemed…far-fetched. Either Harvey was completely oblivious to everything around him, or he simply hadn’t wanted to know. “How would you have felt if you’d started to trust her as a dominant to guide and direct you, only to find out everything you knew about her was a lie?”

  “What have you told him that’s a lie?”

  She pulled away so she could pace back and forth in the hallway. “Other than the fact that I’m not your niece? Just lies by omission. I’ve tried to be very honest with him in all other aspects. I don’t know him that well, but he seems to think everyone’s only after his money. If he finds out you’re paying me to be here…”

  “I think you’re worrying needlessly. You’re only here for a few short days. If anything, I think he’ll be deeply relieved once you’re gone, and then over the following months, I’m hoping he’ll think about what you’ve shown him and he’ll take action himself. He doesn’t form attachments easily, even friendships, because yes, everyone in the end has only cared about his money, except for his parents and me, of course.”

  “You’re sure? He’s not going to fall hard and fast for me because he’s never had what I’m showing him?”

  Gordon took her hand and squeezed with a fond smile. “I love that you’re so worried about him. That tells me that you’ll take good care of him. And if he does by some miracle form an attachment for you, I’ll get down on my knees before you myself, because I’ve been waiting decades for him to fall in love. I’m all he has right now, and let’s be frank. I’m not a spring chicken any longer. I need to know that he’s settled and happy and well-loved. I’ve honestly nearly given up hope that he’d ever feel enough for anyone to marry.”

  She gave him a fierce mock glare. “Don’t you get any ideas into that ancient head of yours. I’m here for nine more days. That’s it.”

  He lifted her hand and kissed her knuckles. “So you say, Mistress Kelsey. Let’s see what Harvey has to say about that.”

  * * * * *

  Harvey couldn’t get her out of his mind.

  Maybe not Kelsey the maid, but the fantasy she’d given him, the sensual woman in the library letting him touch her. Had she only been playacting the entire time? Or was there an element of truth in that fantasy?

  Did she really like her nipples rolled and pinched hard?

  Would she really clamp her thighs around his head firmly and grind against his tongue when she came?

  Fuck. He reached down and adjusted himself, surprised that he had another erection. Actually, that wasn’t true. The first one she’d given him hadn’t ever completely gone away, even with the release.

  His first release in months. Maybe a year. He couldn’t remember exactly how long it’d been, and after the way he’d come last time from that horrid dream, he hadn’t been eager to try again. At least that part of his body still functioned correctly. He’d pretty much given up hope because his sex drive had been nonexistent since the accident.

  The accident. Always, everything came back to it.

  Maybe it was the exercise, but he’d been hungry enough to risk another kitchen run. As he’d feared, he’d run into Maxwell putting something into the oven, but he hadn’t said a word. If anything, Maxwell tried to get him to eat more, even though it already felt like Harvey ate constantly. Dr. Fainway had said the huge appetite would eventually go away once his body had enough energy to heal itself, but after three years, it’d only gotten worse, even while he’d gotten thinner and leaner. The doctor claimed his anxiety sped up his metabolism, but the meds he’d prescribed had only made him more depressed, to the point of suicidal thoughts. It certainly hadn’t helped curb his appetite or lessen that constant nagging dread that rolled in his stomach every waking moment.

  Which was pretty much twenty-two hours a day, because he simply couldn’t sleep much at all. Not with his mind running a thousand miles a second.

  He could go over the numbers for the millionth time, but everything was in place for the takeover. He ought to get the final call soon. Maybe even tonight. Just in time for the big party. After years of plotting, he was so close to taking back what was his…

  But staring at spreadsheets and rows of balances wouldn’t make it happen any faster.

  His mind wandered back to Kelsey, lying on the rug in front of the fireplace. His dick throbbed and he sighed. He might as well get his part of the bargain out of the way. Once he jacked off as he’d promised, he’d be able to focus on something else.

  It only took a few minutes to make his way to his room. He thought about locking the door to be safe, but with such an uncomfortable erection, it wasn’t going to take long.

  His bed was a tangle of messy, stale bedding and haphazardly tossed pillows. Maxwell would have brought in an entire team to clean everything in a heartbeat if Harvey would only let him. A stack of books, old magazines and newspapers slid to the floor as he sat on the mattress, and he had to push a stack of rumpled clothes out of the way to lie down. He hadn’t actually lain on the bed in ages. Why bother when he couldn’t sleep?

  He opened his pants and fisted his cock, pumping hard a few times. It felt good, but not incredible. Not like the library. His clothes bothered him, constricting too tightly. Too hot. Grumbling beneath his breath, he sat up and tugged the sweater over his head, and then worked his pants and boxers off. Jacking off wasn’t enough to satisfy the bargain he’d made with her. He had to use the fantasy she’d given him. So when he lay back this time, he closed his eyes and built the scene in his head until he could smell the old leather books instead of his dusty sheets. He imagined himself on the rug beside the roaring fire. Close to her, so he could trail his fingers over her skin and smell her spicy sweet scent.

  Squeezing hard, he slowly pumped himself while he nuzzled her breasts in his mind. They’d be so soft, while her nipples were hard, begging for his lips. If she liked hard pinches, then he’d risk biting her nipples, or at least holding them in his teeth. He could almost feel the swollen nub on his tongue.

  Gasping, he arched off the mattress in another climax. The second in less than an hour. A hard one too, because he still couldn’t catch his breath. He hadn’t even lasted long enough in the fantasy to eat her out as she’d teased him in the library.

  He stared up at the ceiling until his breathing slowed. The room was too dark to actually see much, but he’d counted every single board of the timber detail his parents had used on the ceiling, supposedly to make his room look like the inside of a yacht. Once upon a time, he’d loved boats. He’d spent half his life racing them, buying them, partying on them. He’d even left home at the tender age of fourteen to attend Hotchkiss School, always with the mind of joining Yale’s sailing team. He’d lived on the water as much as possible for the next ten years. His most-treasured gift was the gorgeous old-fashioned monohull yacht Knightmare that his parents had given him. They’d bought it for his twenty-first birthday and he’d raced with it for years.

  Always alone, his preferred way to sail. Only him and the sea, the wind and waves and salt. He’d risked his life more times than he cared to admit in the single-hand races, especially the Vendée Globe. He’d had to quit the race when he’d nearly capsized in a storm off the coast of South America. If he dared ask Maxwell about it, the Knightmare was probably still stored somewhere on the East Coast, in the hopes that he’d someday return to the sea.

  Why had he quit sailing? He’d loved it. The challenge of surviving alone, making his own way. So unlike his real life at home. He’d never had to struggle at anything. His parents had the money and social position to ensure he had every opportunity he’d ever want. Plus Maxwell always following in his wake on clean-up mode. Out on the sea, no one was going to clean up after him unless he was dead. He either made it to his destination, on his own, or he died on his own.

&nbs
p; He dragged a pillow over his face and curled on his side, refusing to cry like a baby. He was too fucking old to feel sorry for himself and sob about his poor dead parents. For all he knew, they’d been planning to cut him off that night when they’d come to get him instead of Maxwell. He’d been drinking too much, partying too much, and generally wasting time. Precious time that he could have used to tell them how much he cared.

  Time he could have used to do something important with his life. While he’d still had a life.

  * * * * *

  “Harvey?” Someone shook him. “Are you all right? Harvey?”

  He lifted his head and squinted, trying to see against the bedside lamp. “What?”

  Maxwell’s face was pale and his hands trembled. He sat down on the side of the bed and put his head in his hands. “Thank God.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you know what time it is?” His voice was muffled but Harvey didn’t lift his head. “Nearly ten.”

  He rolled over, trying to clear his head. It’d been nine or so when he’d hit the kitchen, after his session in the library with Kelsey. “I guess I dozed off. An hour isn’t bad.”

  Maxwell lifted his head, his brow arched. “In the evening.”

  “I’ve been asleep…” He paused a moment to do the math. Hard on a foggy brain.

  “Twelve hours,” Maxwell said for him. “I couldn’t find you for lunch, so I checked on you then. I was surprised you were asleep, but glad, so I left you alone. I figured you’d be up for dinner, but the later it got, the more worried I became. You haven’t been able to sleep at all, so I know you’re long overdue, but I couldn’t wake you. I was afraid…”

  He didn’t elaborate, but Harvey knew exactly what he’d been afraid of. Something he’d been tempted to do only once or twice a day for years.

  “It’s just sleep.” He sat up and dragged the sheet up over himself. Stupid to fall asleep naked. “I guess my body’s finally cooperating.”

  “That’s great. Did you do something different?”

  His cheeks burned and he would have gotten up to disappear into the bathroom, if only he’d been wearing a stitch of clothing. “No, nothing. Guess it was time.”

  Maxwell gave him that enigmatic smile that said he knew exactly what Harvey was hiding and found it amusing. “It has nothing to do with Kelsey, of course.”

  “Of course not. I’ve barely even spoken to her.”

  Maxwell stood up and cast a disgusted look about the room. “It’s a good thing you’re not interested in my dear niece, because this room’s a pigpen.”

  “Well, if you were doing your job and taking care of my laundry, it wouldn’t be so nasty,” Harvey retorted, even though he knew perfectly well that he’d banned Maxwell from ever stepping into his room long before the accident. “How about you wash the bedding once in a year or two?”

  Maxwell snorted. “I’d be happy to, Master Caine. If you hadn’t fired me already.”

  “Maybe you should look into hiring one or two people to help out.” Harvey tugged the sheet free and wrapped it around his waist so he could hide in the bathroom. Avoiding Maxwell’s gaze, he headed across the obstacle course of his room. “What’s for dinner? I’m starving.”

  “I put it away already. Kitchen’s closed.” Maxwell’s tone was flippant, but contained an undercurrent of emotion. Harvey didn’t have to turn around to look at his face in order to understand what had affected him. He’d made Maxwell fire everyone years ago and refused to let anyone inside. First Kelsey, and now he’d actually given the go-ahead for a few helpers. Maxwell needed assistance. She’d been absolutely right that it was unfair and unkind to make the poor man take care of everything in the house alone, and it certainly wasn’t as if Harvey couldn’t afford more help.

  He’d just chosen to avoid anyone looking at him. “Yeah right, old man. Did you forget that I own this entire fucking house?”

  “Of course not, Master Caine. Please fire me so I can retire already. And then you can get the stew out of the fridge. Of course, you’ll die of hunger after you’ve eaten all the leftovers.”

  “I guess I’ll keep you around another day or two then.” Harvey hesitated at the bathroom door, trying to find words to express how much he needed Maxwell. How much he appreciated him. No one else had stuck with him. Sometimes he’d even thought his own parents might shut the door on him. But Maxwell had always been there. Worrying about him, taking care of him, feeding him. Without him…

  “Cover up that bare butt before you come downstairs. I wouldn’t want you to scare Kelsey away.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Sitting at the breakfast table with Gordon, Kelsey sipped her coffee and tried not to look up every single time she heard a small noise outside the kitchen. Harvey had finally agreed to let some outside cleaners inside the house, taking the load off poor Gordon. She was glad, definitely, but the noise was distracting to say the least. She could only imagine how much it’d affected Harvey’s anxiety to have strangers in the house again.

  “After eating a late dinner, Harvey actually went back to bed last night.” Gordon stirred cream into his cup. The real stuff—no powdered corn syrup and milk solids at his table. “It’s a huge step. Very exciting. He hasn’t been able to sleep for more than an hour or two since the accident.”

  “That’s great,” Kelsey replied, trying to be casual but also upbeat. “So he’s still asleep this morning?”

  “I peeked in at six and he was still asleep. I can’t imagine he’d still be asleep with all the banging and vacuuming going on, but you never know. He has a lot of catching up to do.”

  She’d had a rough night herself, tossing and turning. When she finally did get to sleep, it was to dream about the library again. Only it’d been so damned real she could feel his fingers on her skin. She’d even smelled his hair, clean from the shower he’d finally taken at her urging. Something clean and fresh like the sea. It’d been so real that she could still smell him even after she woke up. Then she’d lain wide awake, wondering if he’d kept his part of the bargain. If he’d used the fantasy she’d given him.

  He had so many layers. So many issues. He’d be the greatest challenge of her life. If she could help him, even a little…

  But the risk was great. If she pushed too hard, she could cause him irreparable harm. “He really needs to be in therapy,” she said abruptly. “His anxiety is as bad as his depression.”

  “I know, trust me. But getting him to cooperate has been a challenge. A therapist stopped by daily while he was still in the hospital, and he allowed her to come to the house for the first few months. Eventually, though, he decided it wasn’t helping him any longer.”

  “What about medication?”

  “He’s been on a veritable cocktail of antidepressants and mood enhancers off and on. Without them, we wouldn’t have survived the first year. Year two was rough. The doctor tweaked them several times, and things got worse. That’s when Harvey had enough and canceled appointments all together. I can’t say I blamed him, not as bad as it got. The drugs were only making his depression worse. We tried a couple of different therapists who were willing to come here, but he shut down. The last few months have been…” Gordon sighed heavily. “Let’s just say, they were bad enough I was willing to do anything to help him. So thank you.”

  “I didn’t—”

  “You did,” Gordon broke in. “You’ve made a difference already. You’re helping get him out of his head. You’ve reminded him what it’s like to be alive. He’s already made more strides in a few days than I’d hoped for your entire stay. Just keep doing what you’re doing.”

  They settled into quiet contemplation as they drank coffee. She’d run the gambit from confident to overwhelmed to giddy to terrified in these few days. “I don’t want to hurt him,” she finally whispered. “Everyone has hurt him. Everyone has stabbed him in the bac
k at some point, at least people outside the family.”

  “No, even we betrayed him.” Gordon stared down into his nearly empty cup and his voice broke. “His parents stabbed him in the back by dying and leaving him alone. And I betrayed him by keeping him alive when all he wanted most in the world was to join them.”

  “That’s so sad. You’ve only dedicated your whole life to him and his family.”

  “Deep down, he knows that. I know he loves me as much as I love him. But it’s been very hard to deal with his parents’ deaths. For both of us.”

  “I can’t imagine what you’ve been through.”

  “Your parents are still alive?”

  “No.” She grimaced and shrugged her shoulders. “Well, technically the man who fathered me is still alive, but I never knew him. Mama did her best for me, but we were alone and it was hard.”

  Hard didn’t even come close to describing the years of scraping by, struggling, starving, shivering in the winter because the gas had been turned off.

  “How old were you when your mother passed away?”

  “Sixteen. I was old enough to make it on my own.”

  Gordon searched her face, sympathy etched deeply in his face. “No one’s old enough to live alone at sixteen. I’m sorry, Kelsey.”

  She wasn’t used to people’s sympathy. People hadn’t given a damn about the poor grubby kid who got into too many fights, never had the right school supplies, and always got the free lunches. She’d almost dropped out of school, but then Mr. Kauffman had taken her under his wing her sophomore year. Without his help and encouragement, she would’ve dropped out. It’d been hard working twenty to thirty hours a week and putting herself through school, but she’d learned hard work from Mama. She knew Mama’d been smiling down from heaven on her graduation day.

  “You can’t hide all day,” Gordon said without turning to look at the door behind him. It wasn’t even cracked, but he must have heard a squeak or footstep, though she hadn’t heard a thing with the other noise going on. “I know you’re starving, probably more than usual since you missed so many meals yesterday. Don’t let us keep you from trying to fill that bottomless pit.”