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Bared by the Billionaire

Page 5

by Kallista Dane


  Kyra stared down at her hands, unable to look him in the face. She’d been prepared for this meeting. Or so she thought. But hearing intimate details from her personal life laid out in what was supposed to be a job interview left her feeling sick. She realized that until this moment, some part of her had been secretly hoping the story was all part of the FBI’s plan to manipulate her into going undercover for them, that Patterson had been lying about how Alejandro bragged to everyone and told wild tales about their sexual relationship. Yeah, the same part of you that still believes in Santa Claus and happily-ever-afters, she told herself angrily. The man stole millions of dollars, framed you for it, then ran off. And you’re still surprised that he lied about your sex life?

  According to Patterson, this man sitting in front of her had masterminded the whole thing. So he knew she’d be framed for the theft, knew she’d be desperate right now. He’s worse than Alejandro, she told herself. He’s planning to victimize me all over again. Well, let’s just see who comes out on top this time.

  She lifted her chin to meet Harmon’s gaze. A tiny smile played at the corners of her mouth. “You seem to have me at a disadvantage.” She paused for a moment. “Sir,” she added. “It would be foolish of me to refuse your terms when I need exactly what you’re offering—in every area.”

  His eyes narrowed. She saw an unmistakable flash of lust. Her use of the word ‘sir’ had had the desired effect. No doubt he was already imagining her on her knees in front of him, naked. She swallowed nervously, feeling out of her depth. This was not the geeky scientist she came here expecting to find. The man in front of her was dark, dangerous. He gave off an aura of tightly controlled power. For the first time, she felt a stab of real fear at what she was about to do. She struggled to keep her voice even. “Please, tell me more about the nature of the services you’d be requiring of me under this agreement.”

  “You will sign a six-month contract. You’ll live here during that time, all expenses paid. I have a suite of rooms that I’ll put at your disposal. When I’m doing business, you’ll function as my private consultant, attending meetings with me, going over my corporate accounts and advising me on business decisions. I know you have an impressive grasp of international finance and frankly I’d like to have someone competent to give me an unbiased opinion on what my accountants and tax attorneys are doing.”

  He went on without waiting for a response. “I’ll pay you $1,000 per hour after taxes for your consultation work, with a minimum guarantee of 20 hours paid per week. Your duties will take up no more time than that, often less. When you’re not working as my consultant, you can come and go as you please during the day, unless I require your presence as my sub. I’ll sign whatever paperwork you want to assure you that you’ll get your money. I’ll even put the entire amount into an escrow account up front. In addition, as I said earlier, you’ll have the unlimited support of my legal team. That access will continue indefinitely, for years if necessary until their investigation ends—if you complete all the terms of our agreement.”

  She nodded, trying to keep the surprise off her face. She hadn’t expected that part of the deal. She wouldn’t have to sneak around to get Harmon’s financial records. It sounded as though she’d have full access to anything she might need. Along with that, he seemed eager to take full advantage of her business knowledge. In some ways, it was comforting to know that she’d be spending at least part of her time doing the kind of work she loved. Sinking her teeth into complex financial transactions, dissecting legal contracts and pages of numbers to reveal the hidden agendas that always lay behind them, the very human needs and desires.

  She hadn’t expected to be compensated so well either. It didn’t take a math genius to do those numbers. A cool half a million in cash for a part-time job over the next six months would give her the time and the capital she’d need to decide how she was going to support herself in the future. And the legal assistance he was offering was potentially worth millions more. Of course, if she was able to find evidence while working here that he’d been behind the whole scheme, she wouldn’t need his attorneys. The FBI wouldn’t be bringing any charges against her.

  But even if she was able to prove he’d masterminded the theft, she doubted whether she’d ever be employable again as a financial officer of any business with the scandal of a massive fraud at her last place of employment hanging over her head. Even if no charges were ever leveled against her, gossip would brand her as guilty without ever going to trial. Having a hefty nest egg behind her would make it easier to start over in some other field.

  He was watching her face, waiting for her response this time. She finally asked the question that had been uppermost in her mind ever since Patterson had come to her with his outrageous proposal. “And what would be the terms of the rest of our agreement?”

  He smiled again. This time the smile never made it to his eyes. “You will stay on the premises every night. You’d be on call, 24/7, just like my trainer and my personal assistants. But your contract, unlike theirs, will have a very special clause. As my sub, you will be required to do whatever I tell you to do, following my every whim or command immediately, with no argument and no questions asked. Oh, yes. One other thing. You’ll be required to sign a non-disclosure agreement, barring you from ever speaking or writing about what goes on during that time. If you fulfill all the terms of our agreement, at the end of the six months, you can go your own way—with a bonus of an additional $500,000.”

  He paused for a moment to let that sink in, then went on. “Ultimately, you’ll still be in control. If at any time you find yourself unable or unwilling to comply with the clause requiring your total, unquestioning obedience to me, you need only to say the safe word we decide upon. I’ll stop whatever is happening and you’ll be free to go.”

  His voice turned cold. “If you do, however, our entire contract will immediately become null and void. You can keep whatever portion you’ve earned of the $20,000 per week, but the remainder of the funds in escrow will revert back to me. The support of my legal team will end, and you’ll be required to vacate this building within one hour. In addition, I will use my considerable influence to see to it that charges are brought against you for the theft. If I’m asked to testify, which I assure you I will be, I’ll give my opinion under oath that someone with your degree of expertise must have been involved because Cabrera didn’t have the brains or the technical know-how to pull off a scheme like that alone.”

  Kyra was indignant. “You’d lie?”

  “That’s not a lie. It’s what I believe. I can’t help the fact that it will implicate you.”

  She swallowed, fighting to take it all in. “Sounds like choosing to use the safe word would be worse than submitting to whatever you may command me to do.”

  “I’m banking on that,” he replied. He softened his tone. “I know this is a big decision and I’d like you to take some time to think it over. I wouldn’t want you rushing into something you weren’t prepared to follow through with. My car and driver will take you back to your condo shortly. However, I want to stress that this is a one-time offer. It expires in twenty-four hours.” He glanced at his watch. “That will be eleven a.m. tomorrow. If you choose to accept my terms, you have only to send me a two-word text any time before that, day or night. ‘Yes, sir.’ You will then be picked up precisely at noon tomorrow, along with whatever personal belongings you choose to bring with you, and brought here to begin your duties.”

  He let that sink in for a moment. “Before you leave, I’ll give you this one opportunity to ask me any questions you want. I will answer them as honestly and completely as I can.”

  She was numb, her brain unable to form rational thoughts. Kyra blurted out the first thing that came to her mind. “Will you hurt me?”

  He paused, as though considering the nuances of her question. Kyra could almost see his mind working, deciding exactly what to say. She realized this man would never utter a word without weighing all the consequen
ces. “As your dom, I will discipline you as I see fit, whenever and however I choose. I may also feel the need to punish you at times. As my sub, you will of course accept it all without protest. My discipline may create pain at times. My punishments certainly will, perhaps lingering for several hours afterwards. However, I will never draw blood or do you lasting physical harm.”

  “Will you expect me to… do things… with anyone else?”

  “I’m not a pimp. Nor do I like to share my playthings. You will not be required to have sex—oral, vaginal or anal—with anyone except me.”

  She blushed at his frank words. Harmon was telling her she’d be expected to give herself to him without question, any time, any way he wanted. Kyra had never experienced anal intercourse, although she’d fantasized about it. The thought of having it become a reality with the dark stranger in front of her without having any control over how and when it would happen sent a totally unexpected shiver of arousal through her.

  She was silent for so long that he finally spoke. “Let’s be honest here. I’m probably not going to require you to do anything you haven’t already done before—and loved doing, according to Alejandro. But with me, you’ll fare much better in the end than you did with him. Do you have any other questions?”

  She shook her head. She had tons of questions, but didn’t really want to hear the answers to any of them. She had to accept this outlandish job offer no matter what. Knowing more details would only make the text message that much harder to send.

  He stood and offered her his hand. “Whatever you decide, this meeting was an experience I won’t soon forget.”

  Kyra automatically reached out for his handshake and was shocked when he drew it to his lips instead. He held her hand firmly, turned her palm up and licked it, then ran the tip of his finger slowly along the line his tongue had traced, sending another involuntary shiver down her spine. His eyes were locked on hers the entire time.

  She barely noticed when he drew a business card from his pocket with his other hand. Pressing it into her damp palm, he curled her fingers around it. “I look forward to hearing from you, Miss Thornton.”

  Chapter Five

  The trip back to her condo seemed endless. Another burly man who looked equally as tough and humorless as the security guard was waiting for her in the lobby. Despite the crushing summer heat outdoors, he wore a heavy, dark business suit, long-sleeved shirt and tie. Kyra couldn’t help wondering if the thick fabric of the suit hid the outline of a gun and holster underneath. So far, the members of Harmon’s staff she’d seen all looked as though they could double as bodyguards.

  He stepped forward but didn’t shake hands. “Miss Thornton, I’m Sam, Mr. Harmon’s assistant. He asked me to give you this,” he said, handing her a small black box tied with a white ribbon. “Now, if you’ll please follow me.” He ushered her into another elevator that opened on an underground parking garage, and then helped her into the back seat of a black stretch limo. Sliding open a wood panel in the console between two rear-facing seats in front of her, he offered her a drink from a selection of crystal decanters nestled there. She shook her head wordlessly.

  “Very well, ma’am,” he said, shutting the passenger door with a solid thunk. Once he got behind the wheel, he pushed a button and a glass partition rose up from behind the driver’s seat to close her off from further contact.

  Kyra took the opportunity to retrieve the crumpled card from her clenched fist. It wasn’t a standard business card. There was no name, no company logo anywhere. One side of the heavy cream-colored card was completely blank. The other side was rimmed all around with a thick black band. In the center were two words. Yes, sir.

  “As if I’d forget that,” she muttered. She dropped the card into her purse. Turning her attention to the box the chauffeur had given her, she untied the ribbon and opened it. Inside was a cell phone. It was sleek and silver, with no name or model number anywhere on it. She turned it on. A single word, Master, appeared on the screen, with two buttons below it. One said Call and the other said Text.

  There was no panel of numbers below it, no way to choose another call destination. She looked for apps, for contacts, for the usual dizzying array of options that presented itself on any new phone. But aside from the keyboard that popped up when she pressed the Text button, there was nothing. As far as she could tell, this phone had only one purpose—to send and receive calls and messages from a single preprogrammed number. She slipped it into her purse next to the card and stared, unseeing, out the window until the limo pulled up in front of her building.

  Once inside her condo, Kyra paced restlessly around the rooms. She’d wait until evening, pretending to consider her decision, before she texted Harmon. Until then, she had nowhere to go, nothing to occupy her time. For the first time in years, she had no to-do list. She was alone with her thoughts.

  Her mind went back over Harmon’s description of her duties. She’d be expected to obey his every command, fulfill his every whim. Kyra recalled that when she asked if she’d be made to ‘do things’ with others, Harmon had been very careful in the way he worded his answer. He said she would not be required to have sex with anyone except him.

  “But he never said I wouldn’t have to submit to other kinds of contact,” she told herself aloud. Thoughts, images, flew unbidden into her mind. Would she be dressed in a tight leather corset and taken to one of those BDSM clubs, where strange men could put their fingers and tongues in her wherever they pleased while Harmon watched? The idea sent a jolt of dark desire through her body.

  All her life, she had adhered to a set of rigid rules. She never allowed herself to get drunk or high, never slept with men she’d just met after the bar closed. She took files home with her from the office nearly every night and seldom used up all her vacation days. Yeah, you’ve always been responsible, dependable, reliable—in short, you’ve been boring as hell, the voice in her head declared.

  She always told herself it was because she had high moral standards. Now she’d be compelled to let them go if Harmon demanded it. What would it be like to be stripped naked and put on display for his amusement? To be spanked hard, then taken in the ass? She shuddered and ran her hand up between her legs. Her panties were damp and she shoved them aside to plunge one finger inside the slick heat of her pussy.

  Kyra stared at herself in the mirror. This was a first. Pleasuring herself, fully clothed, in the middle of her living room, in the middle of the day—and watching the expression on her face as she did. She might as well get used to it. There’d be plenty of firsts for her in the coming days, certainly much more depraved than this. She noted with almost clinical detachment how her breathing quickened when she picked up the pace, moving her finger faster, deeper. She stopped for a moment, took off her skirt, and yanked her panties down to her knees. Would he expect her pussy to be clean-shaven? Or would he like seeing her little nest of dark curls?

  Kyra stepped out of her panties and stepped closer to the full length mirror. One hand found the nub of her clit, already hard. She licked a finger and stroked it, then spread herself apart with her other fingers so she could watch it grow as she played with it, making it throb with need. Her other hand moved down to caress the soft hot flesh around her pussy. She slid one finger back in again, then two. Spreading her legs further apart, she moaned and began fucking herself hard, all the while seeing what Harmon would soon be seeing. What he’ll own for the next six months, to pleasure or punish at his whim, whispered the voice inside her head. She came then, a vicious climax that left her legs weak and wobbling.

  But the orgasm only fanned the flames of her sudden hunger. Kyra grabbed the phone, deliberately blocked the sound of all the warning bells that were going off in her head and punched in the six letters that would determine her destiny.

  * * *

  Harmon was a little surprised when the message came in so soon. She was more desperate than he thought. Good. He could use that, pushing her harder than he’d planned at first. S
uddenly, he wished he’d told her that she’d be picked up immediately after sending the text. Now he was forced to wait.

  But then, so was she. He’d use this time to tweak his equipment, making sure everything was ready. His cock was hard already, as he thought about what he’d do when she arrived. He headed down the hall to the lab.

  A door opened off the long hallway and Sam Neely stepped out in front of him. “Mr. Harmon, could you step into the communications center for a moment? There are a few new developments I think you need to hear about immediately.”

  Harmon didn’t hesitate. If Neely said something was important, it always was. That’s why he was on staff—he and Marcus and Slade and Riley. All former members of Special Forces, they served as the best-paid household staff in the country. Sam Neely may have had the title of personal assistant on his employment agreement, but he was also a surveillance expert as well as a master at hand-to-hand combat. He’d been a member of an elite Seal team that operated so far under the radar it didn’t even have a number.

  Harmon stepped inside the windowless room, glancing at a dazzling array of computer screens and state-of-the-art equipment in the room, most of which wasn’t available for purchase anywhere. A skinny young man, barely more than a kid, sat in front of one of the displays, scrolling through websites at lightning speed. Even Harmon was impressed. Sam waved him away and the young man stood up and disappeared through a door in the side of the room.

  “First of all, Mr. Harmon, that extremist group is ramping up their level of hostility. They posted another rant on YouTube late last night, claiming that your thought-controlled devices are going to usurp powers only God has the right to wield. They’ve issued another death threat, but this time two of their members we’ve been keeping an eye on have dropped out of sight. I recommend that we up the security level from yellow to orange.”

 

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