Billionaire Bad Boys of Romance Boxed Set (10 Book Bundle)

by Selena Kitt

"Mr. Kaiser!"

  "Unfortunate," he admitted, holding up her soft white cotton panties. "Let's avoid that in the future—no panties from now on, Heidi."

  "Yes, sir." The thought of not wearing panties under her skirts to work made her feel faint.

  "Put your hands behind your back." She did as she was told, wincing he as encircled her wrists with one of his hands. "Stay like that."

  He wrapped something around her wrists, fabric, tightening his knot and making her bite her lip to try and hide her sharp intake of breath. When he covered her eyes with material, tying the knot behind her head, her stomach rolled over, a heavy thing in her middle.

  "Turn."

  She turned to face him, disoriented. He reached around her, adjusting something on the desk. She heard the sound of crumpling paper.

  "I am a bit meticulous in my habits," he explained. "My blotter should be kept clean, no matter what we are doing on my desk, Miss Bauer. That is your responsibility. Do you understand me?"

  "Yes, sir."

  "Up onto my blotter, Miss Bauer."

  "Sir?" She didn't know if she had heard him correctly, although she was afraid she had.

  His voice was clear and firm. "The desk is behind you and the blotter is clean. Keep it unsoiled and unwrinkled."

  It was an impossible task, she thought, blindfolded with her hands bound behind her back. She felt behind her, touching the edge of the blotter. The squeak and creak of his chair as he sat startled her, and she knew he was watching.

  Putting her hands as far back behind her onto the desk blotter as she could, she arched her back, sliding her bottom up onto the edge. She knew she would wrinkle the blotter page if she slithered backward, and she paused, wondering how to proceed. The sound of his breath reached her ears, slightly heavier than normal.

  Kicking her right heel off, she twisted, putting her foot up on the edge of the desk, her skirt riding high up to her waist now. Her stocking slipped just slightly on the surface, but held. Using the muscle in her thigh and rocking her weight back onto her hands, she lifted her bottom clear of the desk surface, slipping her other heel off and seeking purchase with her other foot on the smooth exterior.

  "Very good, Miss Bauer," he murmured as she let herself carefully down onto the center of his blotter. Her skirt had managed to slip under her bottom slightly, and she hoped that it would absorb any of her sweat from the effort—she was panting with it.

  “Stay like that." She heard his voice coming toward her, the creak of his chair as he stood. She was completely exposed now with her torn panties gone, sitting propped up on his desk blotter, her feet spread wide on either side, careful to stay off the edge of the paper. She used her fingers splayed behind her to balance her weight.

  "One of the three fabrics you chose is tied around your wrists." He was close. She could feel his presence between her legs, but he didn't touch her. "The second is serving as your blindfold."

  He unbuckled his belt and Heidi clenched her bottom, biting her lip. Then she heard his zipper ticking down and her pussy fluttered in response. She squeezed her muscles tight, afraid that the evidence of her anticipation would leak out onto the blotter.

  "The third... is in my hand." He touched her cheek with it, rubbing it there for a moment. Then she felt him running it over the inside of her thigh, above the black lace band of her stocking.

  "Do you know which one it is, Heidi?" He slipped the fabric over her mound, seeking the skin of her other thigh.

  "The... black... pinstripe..." She cocked her head at a new sound, a soft shuffling coming from somewhere between her legs.

  "Yes." He chuckled. "My textile savant..."

  "Hold this for me." He pressed the cloth against her lips and she opened them as the fabric filled her mouth. She held it there, now bound, blindfolded and gagged, completely exposed and spread open on his desk.

  She moaned through the fabric when she felt the head of his cock rubbing against her slit. It was just a tease, back and forth, near her clit but not quite touching. His cock head was spongy soft against her flesh, but when he pressed his weight against her, just slightly, she could feel the hard insistence of him. She found herself wanting him to grab her, plunge deep, and fuck her senseless. She was breathless with wanting it, squirming, her muscles taut and trembling.

  "You will be careful with my blotter in the future, won't you, Heidi?" She moaned when he did touch her clit with the head, slapping it there, once, twice, a third time, making a wet sound that filled the room. "I asked you a question."

  Through the fabric, her "Yes, sir," was very muffled.

  That sound reached her ears again, a slow shuttling, growing faster, and she knew he was masturbating between her legs. She wanted to see him, but she could feel his eyes on her, even though she was blindfolded. He was looking at her as he pumped his hard cock in his fist, only inches away from her wetness.

  His breathing was labored, and the sound between her legs began to swell, his hand going so fast it wasn't rhythmic so much anymore as continuous, a lightning fast hammering between her thighs. Heidi's nostrils flared with her heightened breath that matched his own, her pussy aching as she listened to him masturbating.

  She moaned through her gag, feeling his pumping hand moving right against her pussy, making a wet sound as he jerked himself against her flesh. He gave a low growl and Heidi gasped and trembled as she felt a sudden flood of spurting, hot fluid exploding against her pussy. She could feel the weight of it on her clit, dribbling slowly down her slit, and she gasped, biting down on the fabric in her mouth as she squeezed her muscles together, willing his cum to stay put, not to slip down further and stain the blotter.

  She felt his cum sliding down past her pussy, toward the crack of her ass. Tilting herself back a little, she hoped that, at the very least, it would simply stain her skirt. He was zipping, doing up his belt buckle—she knew the sounds already. And then the scissors snipped near her wrists, freeing her hands.

  "Use your gag to clean up." He undid her blindfold. The world seemed incredibly bright, the light through the window blinding. Heidi pulled the fabric quickly out of her mouth, slipping it between her legs to catch the slippery wetness of his cum running down her ass.

  "Watch the blotter," he warned, turning and striding back to the window. Her hands free now, Heidi rolled carefully off the blotter, hopping to the floor. She looked back at it, fearful, but didn't see any stains. Relieved, she slipped her shoes back on, picking her torn panties up and putting them into her skirt pocket.

  "It's four-fifty-nine." He looked at his watch. It glinted in the sun as he stood at the window. "We're done for the day."

  "Thank you." She squeezed her legs together. His cum was sticky between her thighs, the pinstriped fabric, damp with her saliva, now caught between her pussy lips.

  "Don't forget your bag," he reminded her as she wobbled toward the door.

  "Thank you," she said again, swerving toward the wardrobe and taking the grey bag out, slinging it over her shoulder.

  "See you Monday," he said.

  Her heart lurched. She had forgotten it was Friday.

  The elevator opened and Heidi glanced over her shoulder, juggling the grey bag, her purse, and the Styrofoam container from lunch, as Mr. Kaiser closed his office door. She saw a glimpse of his shirt sleeve and cufflinks.

  The minute the elevator doors closed, she pulled her skirt up, finding the slick cloth between her legs and rubbing it hard and fast against her throbbing clit.

  "'Very good, Miss Bauer,'" she whispered, watching the floors pass with half-closed eyes, knowing that at any moment, the elevator could halt to pick up more passengers, but she couldn't stop.

  She rubbed the cum-stained fabric against her clit, whispering, "Yes, sir! Yes, sir!" until she finally came, her body shuddering and twisting in the corner of the empty elevator.

  She slipped the fabric sample out from between her lips, bringing it up to her mouth and licking the taste of them together off the material
as she clutched the railing, her ears ringing, the bag falling to the floor.

  The doors behind her opened to reveal two men in suits waiting to get on. Heidi straightened up and slipped the fabric into her pocket with her panties, trying to juggle her purse and the Styrofoam container.

  "Is that yours?" one of the men asked, pointing to the grey bag.

  "Oh," she breathed, still gasping. "Yes."

  "Here," the other one said, picking it up and handing it to her.

  "Thank you." She slung it back over her shoulder and faced forward, leaning against the wall.

  The numbers couldn't light up fast enough as the elevator took her down to the first floor where she could rush home and touch herself, remembering him, again and again. She didn't know how she was going to make it through the weekend.

  Chapter Four

  “Carvel?” Heidi whispered, nearly losing her grip on the coffee mug right over the blotter. She managed to catch it, not spilling a drop, before setting it on a coaster. “Roberto Carvel?”

  “Yes,” Warren Kaiser replied, tilting his head to frown at her. “Heidi, if you are going to work here, you really must stop sounding star struck every time I mention the name of a designer.”

  “I’m sorry.” She straightened up and smoothed her hand over her skirt. His eyes followed her hands, the frown growing.

  “A thousand dollar outfit and you still look like a little mouse,” he sighed. “Maybe it’s the hair. Perhaps I should send you to a salon?”

  “Oh.” She tucked a stray piece of blonde hair behind her ears. “I’m sorry.”

  She had been wearing designer outfits every day and feeling like a queen. Today she was wearing Donna Karan, a knee-length pleated black skirt and a grey stretch v-neck cashmere sweater.

  “Here.” Kaiser wrote something down on a yellow legal pad and tore the sheet off, handing it to her. “Call this number and make an appointment. I’ll give you time during your lunch hour tomorrow.”

  “Thank you.” She folded the paper and slipped it into her skirt pocket.

  He dismissed her with a wave of his hand. “Let me know when Carvel arrives.”

  Heidi slipped out of his office, closing the door behind her with a sigh. It had been a difficult few weeks, trying to say and do everything right. He had been right about there being an adjustment period. She smiled and closed her eyes for a moment as she leaned back against the door. She wanted nothing more than to please him, but his punishments had been so awfully delightful she didn’t know if she wanted to be that good.

  The elevator doors opened and she startled, smoothing her skirt again as Robert Carvel strolled towards her. His gray hair and beard and olive complexion reminded her a great deal of Sean Connery, although his accent was Italian instead of Scottish. She straightened, determined to make a good first impression.

  “Hello, Mr. Carvel, I’m—”

  He didn’t even stop to look at her, just reached for the doorknob and walked right into Kaiser’s office. Heidi moved to follow, but the door swung shut with a shuddering bang and she stood there blinking at it, unmoving, undecided. Surely she should knock, offer them some refreshment? But what if she interrupted something…? Maybe Roberto Carvel always made such an entrance.

  Heidi’s anxiety was relieved when the door opened and Kaiser poked his head out. “Coffee, Heidi. Black.”

  She nodded, but he cut her, “Yes, sir,” off with another slam of the door. The coffee was hot, and she’d just made a fresh gourmet pot. The beans were organic, imported and smelled so rich when she ground them—by hand, Kaiser insisted—they made her dizzy. And she didn’t even drink coffee. It was the definitive smell she had come to associate with Kaiser—that, and the scent of leather.

  She held the full cup in one hand when she approached the closed door, raising her other to knock, but Kaiser’s impatient face appeared again, his brow immediately smoothing out when he saw her.

  “Your coffee, Mr. Carvel,” Heidi murmured, setting the hot cup on a black leather coaster on Kaiser’s desk in front of the man. He glanced up at her just briefly, his only acknowledgment a grunt. There were designs spread out in front of him and for a moment, Heidi entirely forgot where she was, and who she worked for.

  “Where did you get this?” She snatched one of the designs up and held it with trembling fingers.

  The dress was sleek, sexy, form-fitted over the hips, slit high up the side, but it was the soft feather accents across the bodice and down the draped front that made it seem as if it could float off the page. The dress was hers—she had designed it two years ago and, although the original sketch had been stolen, she had recreated it as part of the portfolio she had presented when she applied for a job at Kaiser.

  “Heidi!” Kaiser’s sharp admonishment brought her back and she swallowed, looking up at him, the drawing still clutched in her hand. “Put that down!”

  “I’m sorry.” She did as she was told, unable to keep the pain and confusion from clouding her features. It couldn’t possibly be her design…but it was. She knew it. Roberto Carvel stared at her, aghast, and she flushed, apologizing again. “I didn’t mean…it’s just…”

  “Clean up my table, Heidi,” Kaiser directed, pointing a finger toward the huge rectangular glass table by the window he had his papers spread out on. She hesitated, her mouth opening, unable to help herself, but seeing the look in his eyes stopped her again. Putting the design back on the desk in front of a stunned Carvel, she rushed over to do Kaiser’s bidding.

  “She’s new,” Kaiser explained with a shake of his head as he took a seat behind his desk. Carvel just raised an eyebrow in response, picking up the design Heidi had been holding. “And a bit star struck, I’m afraid.” Kaiser chuckled.

  “By me?” Carvel barked a laugh. “Well, she has good taste, anyway.”

  “She does.” Kaiser agreed, looking at the design in the man’s hand. “As do I. Andrea Paxton is going to be a household name before the end of the year, I have no doubt.”

  Andrea Paxton!

  Heidi’s head came up sharply—she had been on her knees, rummaging for papers that had found their way to the floor—and she rapped it so hard on the underside of the table she briefly saw stars and wondered if she’d actually cracked the glass. She let out a little squeak of pain and both men frowned, turning their heads to look at her. Rubbing the bump already forming, she scrambled out from underneath the table and began shuffling papers together on top.

  “She’s good, I’ll give you that,” Carvel agreed, flipping through the designs. “But inconsistent. Look, here…this design is amateurish, almost childish.”

  “Ah, but this one!” Kaiser lovingly lifted the design Heidi had been holding. “Is inspired!”

  And it’s mine! Heidi fumed, feeling her face flush as she watched Kaiser trace the dress’ lines with his finger.

  “Everyone has off days, bad designs.” Kaiser shrugged. “I’ll take a few of those if a designer can also bring me genius.”

  Genius. Heidi couldn’t help the tingle in her belly at the word. He thought her design was genius! Of course… he had no idea that it was hers. He believed Andrea Paxton, daughter of the late Reynold Paxton, whose silent connections in the fashion world extended far beyond Valentino or Versace, had designed that dress. And why wouldn’t he believe it, given her position, her money?

  But Heidi knew better. The girl had never had any real talent, even when they were in school together. Everything about Andrea was fake, from her hair color to her nails to her bought-and-paid-for c-cup breasts. And now, she was faking someone else’s designs as her own. Stealing them.

  Heidi knew instantly how it had happened—and realized she should have suspected, given how much time Andrea had spent in their apartment. Was she ever going to stop being so naïve? Mentally, she kicked herself as she sorted Kaiser’s paper mess into organized piles, remembering her roommate, Sara, introducing her to Andrea Paxton—yes, that Andrea Paxton. Heidi’s hackles had gone up immediatel
y, and now she knew why.

  I never trust my instincts, but they’re always right. She sighed audibly and bit her lip in apology when Kaiser frowned and gave her a sharp look. The two men were conferring over something, but Heidi had lost the conversation, too involved for who knew how long in her own thoughts.

  “Well, let’s see what your aficionado has to say.” Carvel held up two designs. Neither of them were hers, thank goodness, and both were quite good—so they couldn’t be Andrea Paxton’s, Heidi thought grimly. “Which one?”

  Heidi’s eyes flickered to Kaiser. He was frowning, but he was also clearly going to humor the old man. He gave her a slight nod and she moved forward to take the two pieces of paper. They were full color illustrations—hours of work, Heidi knew from her own time spent at a drawing pad.

  “Lovely,” Heidi sighed happily as she looked from one to the other. It really was a tough choice, although both were significantly different dresses. The first was a cream-colored silk, the bodice and back dangerously low. The other was a bold pomegranate concoction bursting with seed-pearls. Just looking at it made Heidi’s imagination take flight and she found herself mentally improving on it.

  “So much for that.” Kaiser laughed, looking at his secretary’s dreamy expression.

  “This one.” Heidi said firmly, handing the red dress to Carvel, not looking at Kaiser. “The one here pretends to take risks—it thinks itself daring and dangerous.” She scoffed, tossing the cream-colored backless dress on the desk in dismissal. “But this dress…this dress is actually everything the other one claims to be. It’s bold… courageous.” Heidi’s gaze followed the line of the dress in Carvel’s hand. “It’s unapologetic.”

  “Intrepid.” Kaiser’s voice brought her attention again and Heidi flushed, meeting his gaze. Was he talking about the dress? She wondered. His dark eyes were burning and she knew she was in trouble—big trouble—for everything that had happened that day. The thought sent a shiver of both fear and excitement up her spine. He looked like he wanted to take her across his knee right there, and she wondered if he would have if the phone hadn’t rung.