The Billionaire and the Best Friend Boxed Set

by Nikki Steele

  “Yes but things have changed since then. Things have-”

  “They’ll never be complicated with me, Tiffany. You’ll always know where you stand.”

  Suddenly I knew why he was calling. “You want me to sign that contract, don’t you?” I asked, amazed.

  He’d told me as much when he’d had me blindfolded at the cinema. Told me that he was going to make me want to sign it as he’d poured hot chocolate over my nipples.

  “Did you enjoy our tryst?” Edward asked.

  I had to be honest. “Yes, but…” but how was I supposed to tell him that I’d been doing it to get over Ryan?

  “But nothing, there’s your answer.”

  I sighed. “Edward… I’m just not sure we’re right for each other.”

  Silence from the other end of the phone. “Did I not pleasure you,” he asked, voice dangerous. “Did I not make you scream with joy?”

  His tone sent chills down my body—little tendrils of fear that reminded me of the very reason I was hesitant to continue our relationship. How did you tell someone that they scared you? How did you tell someone that the sex was good, but your heart belonged to another?

  “Edward, we’re from two different worlds.” You didn’t. You gave another reason. “You’re rich, I’m poor. I’m just afraid we’ve got nothing in common.” The words spilled out, and as I said them, I realized that for all their impulsiveness they contained a grain of truth. “You know all about fancy restaurants, but have you ever even been through the doors of a Burger King? I need someone down to earth. That gets me on my level.”

  “If that’s what you want me to do, I’ll do it.”

  I sighed into the phone. “No… Edward, I don’t mean it like that.”

  “You don’t know what you mean. That’s why you need me. You liked being blindfolded, didn’t you?”

  I thought back to our last date, where Edward had his way with me in the projection room. “Yes,” I said hesitantly.

  “You liked being tied up too, didn’t you?”

  “Yes,” I answered again, knowing where this was going but unable to change direction.

  “Then I think you’ll like what else I have to offer you. There is some… flexibility I could allow in the contract.”

  Maybe… maybe I should talk to Edward. As his submissive there would be no misunderstandings. No more worries. No more doubt.

  I knew Edward didn’t love me, not truly. He just wanted to possess me. But did that matter? There was a certain appeal to the clarity of knowing exactly where you stood, even if it wasn’t where you wanted to be. And Edward wouldn’t be forever, either. There was a certain appeal to that too. A six month sexual contract might be just the thing to stop this foolishness with Ryan. I could forget about him in the arms of another. He could forget about me in the arms of many more.

  The thought unsettled me. Which was exactly what made up my mind. “Yes.” I answered. “I’ll meet with you.” It was time to end the foolishness.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Thoughts on Fiction vs. Reality

  Posted by Miss Kitty [2 days ago]

  So I guess by now you guys all know my thoughts on BDSM - I love it. I read about it, I think about it, I can quote 50 Shades of Grey word for word.

  In all those BDSM books I’ve read and all the movies I’ve seen, the hero and heroine end up in each other’s arms, lips locked, a relationship in the making. It’s still a romance, after all, even if a fairly unique one. BDSM is about trusting someone to do really scary things to your body. Loving them enough to let them inflict pain.

  But what happens when real life is different to that? When you meet someone that is great at the pain - great even at the sex - but not at the loving?

  Is it greedy to want the whole package? Am I being too demanding when I ask that the person I sleep with love me back?

  You tell me…

  Miss Kitty.

  I felt like a movie star stepping out of the limousine after my spate of recent cab rides. But it wasn’t a red carpet that awaited when heel touched ground; rather, a carpark.

  “Burger King?” I asked the driver.

  The bull necked man dressed in designer suit nodded. “I believe Sir said something about being down to earth, ma’am.”

  I shook my head, glad that I’d dressed flexibly in a simple black maxi with gold belt and matching bracelets for our date. Edward was trying for normal, I had to give him that. But the whole thing felt like that time Michael Jackson married Priscilla Presley—something was odd about the whole thing, I just wasn’t sure what yet.

  What was it that had me feeling uneasy? It wasn’t the sex—though I did wonder if I’d hit my limits. I liked the BDSM, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted to venture any deeper than the toe I’d already dipped into the water. I still shuddered when I thought of the contract Edward had wanted me to sign. Asphyxiation, cutting, golden showers, full body beating… there were a lot of things I was going to have to cut out of that contract.

  It wasn’t the fact that I was walking through a Burger King carpark, either. It was obvious he was only doing this little scene for me—trying to prove a point. Soon enough we would go back to having sex in exotic hotels, or sex in booked out cinemas, or sex on luxury yachts.

  In fact, it was going to be a little weird meeting up with Edward in a public place—it meant we weren’t going to have sex at all. I paused at the thought. Perhaps that was it. There’d been one dinner, right at the very start… and then everything Edward and I had ever done after had been downright dirty. Our entire relationship revolved around sex.

  Is that what I wanted for the rest of my life? I tried to picture snuggling into him on the couch with a book and a block of chocolate, but just couldn’t do it. I tried to imagine us walking hand in hand along a beach, and couldn’t picture that either. I could imagine it with Ryan, but not with Edward.

  I struggled with the concept as I walked across the carpark, feet dragging slower and slower as I attempted to wrestle with thoughts I’d buried just days ago. What was wrong with me? Why had I pushed away the only guy that had ever truly cared? And why was I walking toward the one guy who literally wanted to cause me pain?

  I hesitated, hand on the swing door. Did I really want to do this? Or was I only going through with it because it was easier than patching things up with Ryan?

  A shadow moved beyond the glass. The door opened. “Tiffany.”

  “Hi Edward.”

  “Come in. Sit.”

  The restaurant was empty; we chose a seat beside the windows with a view of the carpark, on hard red plastic seats. It all seemed slightly surreal.

  “Nice place,” I said, to break the silence. “I’ll get the tab on this one.”

  The joke was lost on Edward. “I won’t ever let you pay. Not for a single thing. Whatever you want, it’s on me.”

  “Edward-”

  He held out a hand. “No, stop.” He pulled a thick set of papers from his inside jacket pocket. “I know you have issues with the contract.”

  I paused; he pushed the documents across the table toward me. “I also know that you like what I’ve done so far. I’ve called you here to propose a provisional contract.”

  “What do you mean,” I asked, my hands remaining folded in my lap. For some irrational reason I didn’t want to pick the papers up until I knew what they contained, in case they locked me into something by association.

  “It’s a document that can change as we see fit, with a bottom limit consisting of the BDSM activities we’ve already done so far—bondage, blind folds, light whipping. I’d also be willing to give you the money originally promised—ten million, I think it was?—for your time. Pick it up, look at it.”

  My hands went to the document, but I paused again. “What about a top limit?”

  Edward cocked his head.

  “You set a bottom limit—things I have to agree to do. But what about an upper limit for things I categorically won’t ever want to do.” I shrugged, bl
ushing. “Like, um, anal fisting, or whatever.”

  Edward shook his head. “I’m the dominant here. You’re lucky I’ve even bent this far. There will be no further changes.”

  My hands left the document once more. “Then what if I’m not interested?”

  Edward moved to the seat beside me, arm sliding around my shoulder. “You will be.” It began to move down, until it was cupping a breast.

  I looked around wildly. “People could see!”

  “We have the place to ourselves,” Edward said. His arm retracted, then slid into my lap, pulling my dress up and sliding under. Shivers prickled my thighs. “Sign the contract,” he whispered into my neck. “Release yourself to me. Free yourself of the burden of choice—let me take you beyond your limits. It won’t always be pleasant. But you will learn to enjoy it.”

  His hand found the cotton of my panties and slipped under that, too. “I’ve changed. I’ve met you halfway. Now it’s your turn.”

  “How have you changed?” I whispered, back arching. I wanted so much for him to have changed. For there to be a chance for us to meet in the middle. Maybe I’d been wrong about Edward.

  “Look around you,” Edward growled. “Look where we’re sitting. Do you really think this is my usual establishment? I’ve brought myself down to your level. I’ve changed for you. You wanted a normal relationship? A normal guy? Well here we are, sitting at Burger King like two regular Joes. I can give that to you… outside the bedroom.”

  His fingers touched me, beginning to circle. I looked around wildly once more. There was no one in the cafeteria. No one that could see.

  But outside the window we sat against, walking past the limousine toward the building, a lone person was headed our way. “Edward…”

  Edward’s hand probed deeper, ignoring my warning. “Don’t worry about it—it’s already taken care of.”

  It was an elderly homeless person. I could tell as much by the grey clothes and sad look on his face, like he’d seen too much pain in his life; like it had made something snap.

  I began to pull away from Edward. He’d be close enough to notice, soon. But Edward suddenly gripped my leg. “I said, it’s taken care of.”

  A shadow detached itself from the awning near the front door, the thick necked limousine driver. He strode straight to the approaching stranger.

  They met in the middle of the carpark. He tapped the vagrant on the shoulder, pointing away from the door. A conversation took place, but the homeless man shook his head. What was going on out there?

  The conversation became animated, until suddenly the vagrant pushed past the driver, heading toward us once more.

  A hand landed heavily on his shoulder, staggering him. The old man tried to shrug it off but was ripped back. A silent shout from beyond the twin walled glass, and then the bouncer—because that was what my driver had become—cracked his neck left, then right, and then punched the old man in the face. He fell, hard.

  I looked in shock to Edward.

  “Don’t worry about Ivan, he’s just seeing that we’re not disturbed.”

  “He just punched an old man in the face!”

  Edward frowned. “You’re right, of course. He should have offered him money first. I’ll see it doesn’t happen again.”

  I stared at him, mouth open. “Is that what you think was wrong with this situation? That he didn’t try and bribe him first?” Edward’s casual cruelty wasn’t going to go away. It infected every aspect of his life—the first time I’d ever seen this contract, he’d threatened to set the dogs on me. He hadn’t changed, not one bit. He’d only become more subtle.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, using both hands to pull Edward’s from my lap. “But your concept of normal will never be the same as mine.” I enjoyed being dominated, but only in bed. And no matter how much Edward protested different, he would never be able to separate the two.

  “You’re not going to change, Edward.” I looked at the bouncer standing with arms crossed outside. “Even when you try, you can’t. I don’t blame you for that. But I can’t join you in it. For me, sex is only half the equation. I need to be held afterwards, safe in someone’s arms. I need friendship, and respect, and laughter and… and love.”

  I hesitated as I realized where I’d heard those words before. Ryan’s words. “That’s not you, Edward. You’re good at the use and abuse, but not at the keep and cuddle. I’m sorry. I’m not the woman for you. I won’t sign your contract. And I don’t think we should meet again.” I looked at him as I stood, and winced. “No hard feelings?”

  His vision grew distant. He was silent for so long I wondered if he’d heard me.

  “Edward?”

  Eyes refocused, and then he suddenly broke into a smile. “No. Of course not. You’re wrong of course, but that just means I have to try harder to convince you.”

  I opened my mouth but he held up a hand. “The heart wants what the heart wants – I of all people understand that. Here…” He pulled out his cell phone. “I’ll even call you a taxi home.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Thoughts on love stories Part 1

  Posted by Miss Kitty [1 week ago]

  I love romances—movies, books, daytime soap operas, you name it. I know I’ve gone on a lot about BDSM in my blog lately, but you know, romance stories in general? They’re just really, really fun. My favorite type is when the sexy heroine has to win over her man. They meet, he’s oblivious, and it leads to all sorts of sexy complications.

  Sometimes I just wish I could grab the hero and shake him and say ‘wake up to yourself!’ Especially when the characters don’t see what’s under their very noses. True love is like that sometimes—it needs a little convincing.

  Then again, sometimes I want to shake the heroine too, and ask what the hell she’s doing. I wanted to do that to Ana when she first hooked up with Christian. I’ve seen a contract like that now. The fool should have run away the minute she saw it. I won’t make that mistake twice.

  I guess, as they say, hindsight is a wonderful thing. How does anyone know true love when they first see it? Maybe one person’s bondage is another person’s love…

  Miss Kitty.

  [There are 4 new comments]

  User69: Marry me.

  User69: You’re my true love.

  User69: We’re going to be together forever.

  Miss Kitty: Ok, seriously, whoever you are User69, you’ve got to stop making these comments. One more like this and you’ll be banned.

  “Marty?” I asked, surprised, as I climbed into the back of the cab.

  My driver ran his hands through slick hair before returning them to the wheel, a broad grin on his face. “It seems like this is my lucky day.”

  “I’m beginning to think you’re stalking me!” My laugh was just the tiniest bit forced. It had been a long day, and I didn’t need a third complication.

  He chuckled. “Hey, you called me, remember?” Then he shrugged. “I was still in the neighborhood. Happens all the time on quiet days.

  It made sense, I guess. I gave Marty directions for home as my phone began to vibrate. Was Edward calling to beg me back?

  I glanced down. No, it was Ryan.

  I sat in the back seat, considering, for so long that I saw Marty glance at me in the rear view mirror. Then I hit answer with a sigh. Seemed like it was all about difficult conversations today.

  “Tiffany?” Ryan’s voice sounded incredulous, like he’d given up hope that I might ever actually answer. “Thank God. Let me in, I need to apologize.”

  “I’m not home right now.”

  “Where are you?”

  “In a taxi.”

  There was silence on the other end of the phone. “Going to see him?” he asked.

  I could deny it—technically it wouldn’t be lying, because I’d just come from and wasn’t just going to, but it was suddenly important to tell Ryan the truth.

  “Actually… I just ended things with him.”

  Relief was tangible in
his voice. “Good. There’s something about that man…” Ryan stopped, realizing what he was saying. “I mean, regardless of what’s going on between us, I say that as a friend. Speaking of which…” I heard Ryan take a deep breath. “I’m sorry Tiff.”

  My eyes closed. It was what I’d wanted to hear. And for a moment, a wave of relief washed through my body. Relief that I had Ryan back. Relief that no matter how silly and petty I could ever be, Ryan would make sure we were friends.

  “I’m sorry that I said what I said. And…” he drew another deep breath. “And I know you don’t feel the same way. So I want you to know I won’t ever endanger our friendship like that again. I promise.”

  The relief drained from my body like water through open fingers. That wasn’t what I’d wanted to hear at all.

  “Tiff?”

  Silence stretched between us as I wrestled with concepts more felt than understood.

  “Tiff? I said I’m sorry. Please, talk to me.”

  Ryan’s voice was urgent, yet I couldn’t say a word. Emotion welled up within me, unsure of its outlet, or even its purpose.

  “Tiff? Are you ok?”

  I nodded, and then, realizing that he couldn’t hear me, cleared my throat. “Ryan, I’ll be home soon. I guess we should talk.”

  “That would be good Tiff. How far away are you?”

  I looked around. “I’m not sure, actually. I don’t recognise the route. We’re in woods of some description.”

  I heard Ryan laugh. “That’s taxi drivers – take you for a ride first chance they get.” I heard his footsteps clack down my driveway. “I’ll have a look at your car while I’m waiting. Perhaps we can see what’s wrong.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “No. I want to. I was a jerk, Tiff. I’ll admit it. A jealous, stupid, jerk.” I heard him raise the hood. “Consider me making sure you can actually travel where you want to, when you want to…” he went silent. “Tiff…”