The Billionaire and the Best Friend Boxed Set

by Nikki Steele

  “Call me Tiff.”

  “Tiff. While we’re on the subject of you beating me up for things I say, do you mind if we discuss something serious for a moment?”

  I nodded. “Of course. Though if you say you really are User69, there’ll be trouble!”

  He laughed. “No, nothing of the sort—I promise what I’m about to say is the furthest possible thing from a marriage proposal ever. But please hear me out.” He took a deep breath. “I’m a reasonably wealthy man Tiff.

  I looked around us. “I kind of guessed.”

  “This is going to sound weird, but before we get too much further—if you decide to come on a second date—I’m going to need to you sign a couple of things for me.”

  “Like a non-disclosure agreement?”

  “That’s part of it.”

  Did Edward think that I was going to go to the media about him? I drew breath, about to take offence, but then thought about things from his side of the coin. I was a professional blogger—technically I was the media. Of course he was going to be worried about what I might write. And of course someone rich and famous, in his position, would want a non-disclosure contract.

  I nodded. “I guess, considering your position and mine, it would be the sensible thing to do. Not that I would ever… you know… do anything you didn’t want.”

  He smiled. “I’m glad we’re on the same page.” Then he stood up. “Come on, it’s time for dinner.”

  * * *

  The Esperanza Room, where we were dining, was small and lavishly furnished. Carved timber columns graced each corner, and a chandelier hung overhead that looked straight from a castle. The far wall was dominated by a roaring fireplace with huge gold leaf mirror directly above. A single, lone table set for two sat in the very center of the room.

  “This is just for us?”

  “Am I boring you?”

  I shook my head. “Believe it or not, no. I’m actually having a lot of fun.”

  He smiled as we walked to the table. “Good. So am I.” Then he pulled a chair out for me. “Sit.”

  I did as I was told, and a waiter appeared.

  “We’ll have the 2007 Corton-Charlemagne Grand Cru,” Edward said without looking at the menu, “with your oysters to start.” He looked at me. “I assume you eat seafood?”

  I nodded.

  “Excellent.” He turned back to the waiter. “We’ll have your Choron lobster for mains, then.”

  Wow. In this day and age I should probably be protesting that I had an opinion, but it was kind of nice to just sit back, relax, and let someone else take charge for a while.

  Edward was looking at the wine list. “I see you have a single bottle of 1984 Domaine Ramonet Montrachet. We’ll take that as well—it will go great with the lobster.”

  The waiter frowned. I’m sorry sir, that wine has already been set aside for another guest.

  “Are they here now?”

  “No sir, they will be visiting tomorrow.”

  Edward grinned at me. “Well then first in best dressed, I say! The bottle is ours.”

  The waiter shook his head. “I’m very sorry sir. Might I suggest the 1998 Coche-Dury instead?”

  Edward’s eyes narrowed. “No. I want the Montrachet. How much is it a bottle?”

  “$3,500 sir, but like I said it’s not for sale.”

  I nearly spat out my water. $3,500—that was more than my car! “Edward, it’s ok, leave it.”

  Edward shrugged me off, pulling out a check book instead. “No, it’s not. I’m buying you the best.” He scribbled something quickly in the book, and then ripped out a sheet. “Here’s $15,000, and a $1,000 tip for you, personally. The bottle can come out when the lobster is served.”

  The waiter took the check. He looked at it for several moments. “Very good sir,” he said, walking away.

  Edward turned to me. “See! I told you that money will buy you anything. You just have to find the right price.”

  * * *

  The wine was amazing. And after we finished it, dessert, a delicious melted chocolate pudding that Edward ordered as well, was amazing too—we ended up feeding it to each other with our fingers.

  It had been a wonderful night, and we walked slowly up the path to my front door, neither wanting it to end.

  “Have you ever been horse riding?” Edward asked.

  I considered Edward’s question, then shook my head, his jacket around my shoulders. “When I was a little girl I used to dream of riding horses, but I never got further than ponies at a fair.”

  His hand reached over to squeeze mine. “Come horse riding with me—next Saturday.”

  “You’re not going to tell me you have horses now, are you?”

  He shrugged. “Actually, I do. It’s a bit of a hobby of mine—I’d love the company if you’re free?”

  It sounded wonderful. This entire evening, Edward had made me feel nothing short of a princess. But what did someone so handsome, rich and intelligent want with me? “So… you want a second date?” I asked tentatively, just to be sure.

  We reached my door and stopped. He turned to me. “Definitely. You’re beautiful, sexy, cheeky and sassy. I’d love to take you on a second date.”

  I bit my lip, and then nodded. “I’d like that.”

  We stood there, gazing into each other’s eyes.

  “Well I guess I’d better be going then,” I whispered. I made no effort to move.

  He nodded. “Yes. Definitely.” His hands moved to my hip, and he leaned in toward me. Closer.

  We kissed.

  His lips were warm and firm, moving tenderly at first and then more passionately as my body responded. We broke apart, panting.

  He took two steps backward, down the path. “Suddenly, I can’t wait for Saturday.”

  It had been a good kiss. “Me either,” I murmured. And then I winked at him. “You might want to get that form drawn up!”

  CHAPTER THREE

  Cat on a hot tin roof!

  Posted by Miss Kitty [08:25]

  So I met a man a few nights ago. But you know that—I posted just before going on the date.

  Well it went great. Better than that, actually. By the end of the night I just wanted to throw myself at this guy. Think of every charming gentleman cliché you can imagine—he pulled my seat out for me, ordered drinks and dinner, even gave me his coat when it got cold—he had all the right moves.

  Today is the day we meet again, and I’ve been walking around like a cat on a hot tin roof for the last hour thinking about that kiss. Did it mean anything? Will he try and kiss me again? And if so, what will I do?

  I think I really like him—we’ve been texting all week. But I’m scared that maybe he won’t like me, second time round. What if I’m not funny? What if we’ve got nothing to talk about? And it was dark at the restaurant. What if I’m not as pretty in jeans as I was in a dress? I don’t know… am I being crazy?

  Miss Kitty.

  Ryan texted not two minutes later.

  Sounds like you need a coffee. Meet you @ Maddigans?

  I loved that man. I really did. He was always there for me—my spiritual support and pseudo life coach. He gave me a huge hug and told me I was beautiful as soon as I walked in the café door.

  “You’re just saying that,” I said, brushing the praise away even as I secretly soaked it up.

  He shook his head. “I’m not. Tiff, you really are beautiful. I mean, I’ve always known it, but setting up these dates for you? Well, it’s kind of making me look at you in a different way.”

  He held his hands up quickly. “I mean… well, that is to say-”

  I kissed him on the cheek and he flushed bright red. “I know—we’re best friends. I’d never do anything to ruin that, and you wouldn’t either. The compliment is taken in the spirit with which it was given.”

  A strange look crossed Ryan’s face. He gulped down his iced latte. “Um, I’m going to order another, would you like something?”

  I shook my head. “
I really should get back in 15 and finish getting ready. But thank you for the offer. You don’t know how much better you’ve just made me feel.”

  * * *

  Ryan’s words had really cheered me up, and I was in a positive mood as the limousine drove through the gates of Edward’s private estate. They towered over me; graceful wrought iron affairs anchored in grey variegated stone that stretched to the left and right as far as the eye could see. Inside, huge beautiful trees lined a long slender driveway that curled slowly to the left. We followed it until an enormous grey mansion appeared in the distance—more a small castle than a home—at which point we forked right until we reached the stables. A horse yard with log fence sat beyond it, and behind that was natural forest, with what looked like riding trails leading deep within.

  Edward was waiting for me when the limousine arrived—he had sent his own driver to pick me up, despite my protests that I could drive myself. I was glad he had, now. It would have been embarrassing to park my 1995 Fiat anywhere near a setting this magical.

  He took my hand as I stepped out of the limousine. “You look beautiful,” he murmured, kissing me on the cheek. “Thank you for coming.”

  I gave a mock curtsy. “You flatter me, I think.” While I’d done my best, it was pretty hard to look glamorous when you were dressed for riding. As opposed to my previous attire, Edward now had the pleasure of seeing me in riding boots, wranglers and a checked shirt.

  His hands went to my hips. “Tiffany, I’ve dated models. Believe me when I say you have something they don’t.”

  His hands in that position reminded me of the last time that I’d seen him, and that kiss on my doorstep. I saw Edward swallow, and realized he must be thinking that too. We stepped apart.

  “Come on, I’ll show you the horses.”

  “I did mention that the only horse I’ve ever ridden was one of those ponies that go in circles at the show, right?

  “You’ll be fine,” he said. He pulled an apple from his pocket. “Here, give Maisy this—she’ll be your best friend after, I guarantee it.”

  True to his word, Maisy refused to leave me alone the minute the apple was gone, and by the time we saddled the horses—an experience in itself—we were firm buddies. I put my foot in the stirrup and attempted to hop forward, only to lose my grip and fall quickly backward. Edward caught me as I fell.

  “Um, thanks” I said, turning red from embarrassment. My arms had gone around his neck.

  He lowered me to the ground. “My pleasure.”

  I was suddenly aware of our closeness, and turned to mount Maisy again. But she shifted as I stood, and then I was in Edward’s arms once more. His grin returned, but as I lay there with my arms around his neck the smile slowly faded—replaced by something much more intense. I looked into his steel grey eyes and was reminded once again of that kiss—the smoking hot, sizzling kiss that I’d been dreaming about these last three nights. That I’d woken up this morning thinking about.

  His head shifted toward me, but then pulled back. “Let’s put Maisy up against the wall, she might be a bit more stable,” he said tersely. And then, with feigned casualness—“By the way, that paperwork is coming along well. It should be ready soon. ”

  I cleared my throat. “Of course.” Strangely enough, I had no trouble climbing Maisy a third time.

  * * *

  We stopped for lunch at noon, sliding from our horses in a beautiful glade on Edward’s property where dappled sunlight lit wildflowers growing before a bubbling crystal clear stream. After my shaky start, I’d grown considerably more confident riding Maisy as we trotted through the forested vale. I suspected that the sweet horse herself had more to do with my success than actual skill, but it had been a pleasant ride, regardless.

  Edward pulled a blanket from his saddle bag, and before I knew it, had laid a light impromptu lunch on the ground. He handed me a bottle of Perrier water and then gestured to sit, before sitting himself. “So what do you think so far?”

  My hand went to my heart. “I’m loving it. Truly I am. Maisy, the forest, this gorgeous spread—you’ve outdone yourself.”

  He picked up a strawberry and held it out to me. I bit it from his hand with a cheeky smile. “You too—you’ve been the perfect gentleman.”

  His eyes clouded. “I am, outside the bedroom.”

  I raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

  He fed me another strawberry, but this time my lips closed around his finger when I took it, sliding slowly back down to the tip before pulling off.

  His eyes flashed. “Yes—the things I would do to you Tiffany. Outside the bedroom every man should be a gentleman. But inside…” he paused, leaning in toward me over the blanket. “I would be your god, and your pleasure would know no bounds.”

  I bit my lip, climbing to my hands and haunches to lean in myself, a small thrill running through me. I couldn’t believe I was being this daring! And yet, at the same time, it felt like the entire day had been building up to this—from the moment I’d stepped out of the car to the moment I’d fallen into his arms. A tremble of excitement shivered my lip, and I allowed my shirt to hang low over my cleavage. His eyes struggled to remain fixed to my face. “Really. Tell me more. Tell me what you would do to me.”

  “You’d scream my name.”

  “And?” My arms moved slightly inwards, squeezing my breasts together. Now Edward was biting his own lip.

  Suddenly he looked away. “That contract, Tiffany.”

  Oh. The non-disclosure agreement. Talk about mood killer.

  “Edward—you know, the paperwork isn’t really necessary. I understand why it’s needed, but I’d never say anything on my blog...”

  “It’s not just a non-disclosure.”

  I sat back on my haunches. “Oh?”

  He hesitated. “I exercise control in all things, Miss Carpenter,” he finally said.

  I recognized the line, from 50 Shades of Grey. “Oh… that kind of contract.”

  “I’m what they call a Dominant, Tiffany.”

  I cleared my throat. “I’ve read 50 Shades. I know what that means.”

  “Then you know why we can’t do… anything, without a contract.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  On love and relationships and BDSM

  From the archives of Miss Kitty [6 months ago]

  I’ve just seen the movie (you know… that movie) and it’s got me wondering about real life BDSM. I mean, it’s not new, but it isn’t something that’s ever really talked about, is it?

  It’s not something to be afraid of, I know that much. I mean, there are plenty of healthy communities out there where you can have fun safely. Not that I’ve ever been to a club or dungeon... or even bought a pair of fluffy handcuffs.

  The power play is interesting though, isn’t it? The concept that one person must submit, and the other person must control. If wonder if I could ever do that? Would I be the Submissive? Or would I have to be the Dom?

  Miss Kitty (or is that Sex Kitten?)

  We were back at the stables a half hour later, Edward helping me down with strong arms. “Thank you—that really was a lovely ride, Edward.”

  We’d spent most of the ride talking about this and that, but in my mind I’d only been thinking about one thing. The Contract. What would it be like to live out the fantasies I’d thought of repeatedly since reading 50 Shades? To be the Anastasia to my very own Christian Grey?

  Being tied up wouldn’t be so bad, perhaps. Neither would having him pull my hair.

  I thought about that. Actually, that would be rather hot. To see him naked before me, using me, pleasuring me, tugging my hair as I screamed his name…

  I began to fan myself.

  “Hot?”

  “Umm, just thinking about that contract, actually.”

  “I can have it to you by tomorrow.”

  “What… what sort of things would be on it?”

  “It would form the basis of our relationship,” he said, voice low and eyes full of desire.
“I would own you, in a manner of speaking. You would be my submissive, and you would do whatever I said. Anything. Anything at all.”

  Anything at all. Such a simple sentence, but loaded with so much meaning. It sounded… dangerous. That was the attraction.

  He pulled away. “Like I said, it won’t be ready till tomorrow. Let’s talk about other things—why don’t you grab a handful of oats from next door and treat Maisy while I remove the saddle?”

  I walked to the next stable over. It had been set up as a workshop style stall, with saddles, blankets and leather on the walls, blacksmith equipment—shoes and tongs—on a bench at the back, and a variety of rope, wire and farmyard chain hanging from pegs. I grabbed a handful of oats from one of several buckets nearby.

  When I returned, Edward had removed Maisy’s saddle and halter, and was working on his own. I held my hand out, stroking Maisy’s nose gently. Her head inched forward as she smelled the food, the rough hair on her forehead running under my fingers as she nosed for my outstretched hand and began to eat daintily.

  Edward came up beside me when I’d finished. “Now we brush the horses down.” He handed me a stiff brush. I ran it over Maisy’s mane.

  He shook his head, then moved behind me. “No—like this.” His hand took my wrist and began a series of long strokes down the horse’s side.

  The tangles straightened out under his firm guidance, but suddenly I wasn’t thinking about the horse. I was thinking about Edward pressed up against my back, his firm musculature pushing into me as he guided my hand.

  The brush paused, and I felt Edward tense. Then Maisy whickered, and the moment was gone. Edward pulled away from me, moving next door. I followed when Maisy was brushed to find him coiling rope with a strange expression on his face.

  “The legal stuff?” I asked.

  Edward nodded, throat tight. “We shouldn’t… it’s for the best, Tiffany.”