BWWM: Bad Boy Billionaires Box Set (A Bad Boy BWWM Billionaire Collection)

by Jameson, Jasmine

  “Hey, what’s that you’re reading?”

  “Dante’s Inferno. It’s a part of the epic poem, the Divine Comedy. It’s an allegory about the soul’s evolution through hell, purgatory and heaven.”

  “Wow. That sounds intriguing and complex. What made you want to read that?”

  “I love reading books with philosophical and theological themes. It really helps inspire my lyrics, even if only on a subconscious level. Reading, especially this kind of stuff, makes me a better writer and a stronger artist.”

  “I see. I love hearing about your creative process. It intrigues me.” Christoff tried to stifle a smile but he couldn’t. He was delighted by my interest in him. “I’m curious, how are you able to read such high-level literature, when English isn’t your first language?”

  “Even though English isn’t my first language, I understand it very well. I’ve always loved the sound of the English language. It’s beautiful. Many of my favorite musical artists as well as my favorite writers growing up wrote in English. So I started teaching myself English when I was young. We also had English lessons in school. Once I started making a little bit of money with the band, I saved up and lived in the U.S. for a year. I lived in New York City when I was twenty-three, and it really helped my English skills. I know a little bit of many languages, but English is my strongest and my favorite foreign language.”

  Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t hide the fact that I was in complete awe of Christoff. His brilliant mind mesmerized me even more than his flawless body.

  “Wow, that’s impressive. English is a difficult language. That’s awesome that you love it so much. I feel the same way about your language as you do about mine. I love German, and I have for a long time. I think that’s one of the many reasons why I love your band so much, because a lot of your work is in German. The German language is beautiful. It’s assertive and sexy. I love it, even though I only understand it a little bit.”

  Christoff’s gaze lingered after I finished speaking. He gave me a smoldering look. “Küss mich,” he growled assertively. That was one German phrase I understood well, and it sounded so good on Christoff’s lips. Kiss me. I eagerly complied with Christoff’s command. I crawled across the sofa, and Christoff lunged forward and met me halfway. He grabbed a fist full of my hair, and tugged at the roots, as he guided my mouth to his. The sensation caused my nipples to harden.

  Christoff’s lips caressed mine, and he assertively drove his tongue into my mouth. I instantly became wet with excitement. I parted my lips and allowed more of his tongue to massage mine. The inside of his mouth was warm and spicy like cinnamon. He pulled me down onto his lap, and I spread my legs to straddle him. He peeled off my shirt and unclasped my bra, as he buried his face in my bosom. I welcomed his mouth on my body. It felt delightful. He pressed his hips into me as I writhed on top of him. He brought his lips back to my mouth and kissed me passionately. I let out a soft moan. He picked me up and laid me down on the sofa. His kisses traveled down my neck as he unzipped my jeans and helped me wriggle out of them. He pulled off his shirt, as I kicked off my underwear. His warm kisses covered my breasts. He sucked on my nipples, and a burst of pleasure pulsated through my womanhood. His mouth traveled down my belly and his tongue circled my navel. I instinctively spread my legs in anticipation. He covered my inner thighs with wet, sensuous kisses, before spreading me open with his fingers and rapidly flicking his tongue across my clit over and over again.

  My breathing became heavy and my entire body quivered. I was pleasantly surprised by how wet I was becoming. Christoff seemed to be enjoying it as much as I was. I propped myself up on my elbows so I could watch as he eagerly devoured my wetness. It was a delightful sight.

  “Mmm, you smell so good,” he murmured as he reached into his pants and stroked his cock with one hand. He continued licking my feminine sweetness, as he used his other hand to slip two fingers inside of me. An overwhelming rush of pleasure began to overtake me, and my entire body spasmed. I ran my fingers through his hair as he skillfully brought me to climax. He kicked off his pants and underwear, and he climbed on top of me and pinned me between his rock hard body and the softness of the sofa. He pushed my knees against my chest and aggressively pressed into me. His firm, deep thrusts felt good. I gazed into his eyes and seductively licked my lips, as I felt his pleasure start to peak. “Fuck,” he grunted as his body shuddered and he drove into me hard. I wrapped my legs around him and squeezed as he exploded. I enjoyed letting him get his release inside of me.

  We laid together on the couch and discussed music and writing, as we reveled in our post-coital bliss. I fit perfectly in the crook of Christoff’s nicely-toned arm, and I enjoyed the feeling of his naked skin pressed against mine, as we lay intertwined on the narrow sofa. I grabbed my laptop and pulled up some of my favorite international artists. I introduced Christoff to some world music that he hadn’t heard before. He was impressed with the depth of my music knowledge, and he enjoyed my diverse tastes. I couldn’t believe I was introducing an international rock star to new music, and he actually approved of my tastes. It was thrilling. He was as intrigued by my passion for music as I was by his talent.

  We took turns swapping our favorite obscure artists. He introduced me to some amazing American industrial rock bands that had somehow slipped under my radar. Celebrity status aside, it was really pleasing to be in the company of a professional performing artist. I love the arts, especially music, so it was extremely stimulating for me to discuss my passion with someone who had actually succeeded in the industry. And I loved how he appreciated my American culture as much as I appreciated his German culture. My heart fluttered and an involuntary smile spread across my face as I realized that lying in the comfort of Christoff’s warm embrace, while we shared our deepest passions with each other, had to be one of the greatest moments of my adult life. I couldn’t think of a moment that I’d ever been happier aside from all of the times that Christoff was inside of me or his mouth was on mine.

  I wriggled my body against his, as I unsuccessfully tried to stifle my naughty thoughts. Christoff must have sensed my longing for his German hardness. He began softly kissing my neck and nibbling my ear lobe. I set my lap top on the coffee table and leaned back into his arms. He cupped my breasts, and he pulled my body deeper into his embrace. The skillful way he stroked my nipples caused my womanhood to ache for him. He bit and sucked on my neck as he slid one hand down and stroked my clit in rhythmic circles. I grinded my hips to the rhythm of his touch. I held my breath as I felt myself slipping closer to the edge. I wanted to enjoy the slow build of indescribable pleasure that started at my core and pulsated throughout my entire body in powerful bursts. I tensed my muscles as I tried to prolong my climax. Christoff slipped one of his long, thick fingers deep inside of me and he continued rubbing my clit with his other finger. I couldn’t take it anymore. An uninhibited moan escaped me in a breathy crescendo as I totally came undone in Christoff’s hands. I struggled to catch my breath as I came down.

  “I love when you totally let go like that. It turns me on,” Christoff murmured in my ear, while his fingers were still inside me. His voice gave me chills. He started kissing my neck again. “Mmmm, and you smell so good... especially down there.” He slowly removed his fingers from inside of me, and he brought them to his mouth. My jaw dropped as I watched him suck my juices from his fingers as if he was eating a delicious treat. “I love the way you taste. I want you to fuck my face.”

  Christoff’s words were so erotic it made me throb for him. I ached for him to fill me up, and I longed to take him over the edge. “Unh unh.” I slowly shook my head back and forth. “I want to fuck your cock.” I climbed on top of Christoff and hovered above him without touching him. I slowly lowered myself so that the head of his erection grazed against my slick opening. His piercing, sapphire eyes flickered with desire.

  “I won’t object to that.” Christoff slapped my ass with both of his hands. I gasped. He swatted me with both h
ands again. The sensation made my body tingle. He grabbed my hips and pulled me into him, as he drove his cock inside of me. My body stretched to accommodate all of his hardness, as he slid his hands up my torso and caressed my breasts. It felt so good. I held his gaze as I rode his cock to a slow, sensual rhythm. He grunted each time I pressed my hips into his. His lips flushed with excitement and his breathing became rapid as I arched my back and began to grind my hips harder and faster. He moaned my name through clenched teeth as I tightened my muscles around his cock. I felt him throb inside of my eager wetness. He grabbed my hips and drove himself into me with hard, fast thrusts. I gasped, as an overwhelming wave of pleasure mounted within me. Our eyes remained locked in a sensual gaze, as he continued to drive into me. His thrusts became more frenzied and my moaning grew louder, as my pleasure peaked into a mind-blowing orgasm. Christoff’s body went rigid, and he filled me up completely with two hard pumps, as I continued to climax. I breathlessly collapsed on top of him, and he pulled me into his embrace. We both fell asleep almost immediately.

  When I opened my eyes, Christoff was still sleeping beneath me. He looked peaceful and perfect. I sighed as I watched him sleep. I still couldn’t believe I had just woken up in Christoff Diemacht Hartmann’s arms, and he was sleeping on my couch. My giddiness made my head spin. I laid in his arms and continued to watch him sleep for a while. His body was warm, and his deep, rhythmic breathing made me feel cozy and peaceful. I reached up and softly touched his beautiful face before gently climbing off him. He shifted his weight but he didn’t wake up. Every time I moved I felt a throbbing soreness between my legs. The aching feeling caused my heart to flutter. It almost felt pleasant. I was hesitant to wash Christoff’s sex from my body, but I thought that a shower would be a good idea. I grabbed a clean summer dress to change into and made my way to the bathroom. I showered and washed my hair quickly.

  When I emerged from the bathroom, Christoff was just waking up. “Did you sleep well Christoff?” I brushed my long, thick hair, as I joined him on the sofa.

  “Yeah, you wore me out. I’ve never been fucked like that before. You really know what you’re doing.” Christoff’s eyes lit up as he gazed at me.

  A prideful grin spread across my face. I was thrilled that I was the best Christoff Diemacht Hartmann ever had.“Well, you’re quite the rock star yourself. I’m pretty sore... in a good way.” My muscles clenched as Christoff’s gaze traveled to my womanhood.

  “Well then I’ll give you a break... for now.” He chuckled as his lips curled in a devious grin. My entire body quivered. Christoff was so sexy. “Hey, if your ankle is feeling better, we should go down to Michigan Avenue and find you a dress for the Awards show.”

  I could totally tell Christoff was a rock star. Most men would never suggest a shopping excursion under any circumstances. It was totally a Hollywood and music industry thing. I knew from my L.A. days. The men there loved to go shopping even more than I did. “Yes! I would love to go shopping on Michigan,” I gushed. “I’m pretty sure my ankle can handle it.”

  “Well, if it starts to hurt again, I’ll carry you.”

  I smiled at Christoff. I really adored him.

  * * *

  Since it was still early evening, and it was a weekday, the stores weren’t too crowded. It was mostly tourists and young stay-at-home fiancés that had nothing better to do than shop. We didn’t have to wait in any lines for fitting rooms. It was nice. I tried on several dresses in several stores, and Christoff waited patiently. I don’t think he would ever tell me something didn’t look good, but I could tell by his facial expressions which dresses were hits and which ones were misses. At the end of our shopping excursion I was torn between two equally amazing dresses, so Christoff just bought both. I already had a few pairs of designer shoes from back in my Los Angeles days, so I decided I was just going to wear my Christian Louboutins. I hardly ever wore them because they were so nice, I didn’t want to mess them up. And since I spent most of my time at the office chasing publicists or in my apartment writing, there was rarely ever an occasion to wear the Louboutins. I was so excited to be able to finally wear them out again. Christoff said that we could rent some diamonds for me when we got to L.A. He informed me that most award show attendees don’t own their jewelry, they rent it. I thought that was interesting. And I was excited to wear diamonds, if only for one night. Even at the peak of my journalism career I had never been able to afford diamonds. All my money went to pricey West Hollywood rent, the few pair of designer shoes I owned, and delicious food. I didn’t own very much jewelry at all, let alone diamonds.

  “I’m hungry, let’s get some dinner,” Christoff commanded, as he took my shopping bags for me. “Are you up for seafood?”

  “Absolutely, Devon’s is right around the corner. It’s one of the best seafood places!” I exclaimed.

  We beat the crowd and got seated immediately. That never happens in Chicago. It must have been our lucky day. I never let anyone else choose my wine. But I loved German wine, and Christoff was German and very cultured, so I allowed him to pick my wine. As usual he did not disappoint. He ordered a German beer that he drank straight out of the bottle. I love men who drink straight out of the bottle. It always makes me swoon.

  After the waiter took our orders we sat in silence. Christoff had an intense look on his face. He was always pretty quiet and intense but he looked particularly deep in thought in this moment.

  “I hate to be a typical, cliché woman, by asking you what you’re thinking about, Christoff, but it looks like you have a lot on your mind. Care to share?”

  Christoff took a moment before responding. “I’m thinking about how I want to say this.” Christoff leaned his elbows on the table, and clasped his hands beneath his chin.

  “Say what?” I raised my eyebrow suspiciously.

  Christoff drew a deep breath. “Gia, I want you to move back to Germany with me after the American leg of the tour.” His words came out fast and hard. It looked as if he had just released a ton of bricks.

  “I thought you didn’t like to move too quickly. Isn’t that a rather big step?” I asked hesitantly.

  “You’re right, it is. But I thought about it long and hard. And as dangerous as it is for me to admit this right now, I realized that I want you near me not just for vacations or trips, but every day. It’s hard for me to say this. I don’t like getting mushy, but you need to hear it. Actually you deserve to hear it. But I can honestly say I don’t think I’ve ever been so satisfied before in my entire life. I’ve had a lot of relationships but all of them have only fulfilled a very small part of me. Different women satisfy different aspects of me. But with you...” Christoff’s voice trailed off. He looked away as he gathered his thoughts. He continued with a hushed tone. “With you it’s different. You satisfy all of me. You make me feel like a real man instead of an empty shell. I don’t know how else to explain it. I’m not even saying I like it. In fact it’s kind of scary. But I take whatever reality gives me. And the reality is I really want you to move back with me.” Christoff bit his bottom lip and averted his gaze. I don’t think I had ever seen him look so vulnerable before.

  His words hit me in the pit of my stomach. It felt like my intestines were doing somersaults. My palms began to sweat and my breath caught in my throat. The sentiment behind Christoff’s words blew my mind. I could not string together a coherent thought. I understood what he was saying more than I cared to admit. Like Christoff, I had also done a lot of dating in my adult life, but I was rarely, if ever, completely fulfilled. There were a lot of men who were attracted to me but almost all of them were intimidated by my strong personality. I never met a man who was Alpha enough to allow me to relax and relinquish control until I met Christoff. He made me feel feminine and soft. I wasn’t even sure if I liked it. I was typically used to being the alpha and taking care of everything, so being vulnerable and girly scared me. I was just as afraid of my feelings for Christoff as he was about his own vulnerability.

&
nbsp; I really cared for Christoff, in a way that I wouldn’t have even been able to imagine had I not experienced it firsthand. But I couldn’t pack up and move overseas with him. I worked in the entertainment industry, and the heart of the entertainment industry was here in the United States. I was right on the brink of a really big breakthrough with my career. I was certain of it. I couldn’t just throw it all away for some guy, even if it was Christoff Diemacht Hartmann. Besides, Chicago was my home, and L.A. was my home away from home. I felt alive in my cities. I couldn’t wrap my head around giving it up.

  A rush of mixed emotions flooded my psyche. Part of me was overjoyed that Christoff felt the exact same way about me as I did about him. But there was part of me that was angry with him for putting me in such a difficult position so soon. I felt myself start to grit my teeth. I had no idea what to say. Luckily, I didn’t have to say anything at the moment. The waiter interrupted the quiet tension between us, and served our food. We ate in a long, uncomfortable silence.

  Eventually Christoff cleared his throat. “How’s your food?”

  “I can’t really taste it... too much on my mind.”

  “You’re not the only one,” Christoff empathized. He and I were connected even when there was a disconnect.

  “Christoff, how am I supposed to move with work?”

  “Can’t writers technically work from anywhere?”

  “Well yeah, but I’m not just a writer. I’m a journalist. And I need to be where the stories are. I don’t want to be writing for this B-list magazine for the rest of my life. I want to get a spot on TV, so I need to be here.”

  “So you’re not going to even think about moving back with me?”

  “Can you give me a solution as to what I should do about work?”