Train Me

by Mia Ford

  “Come for me,” I heard him say as he thrust repeatedly in a quick rhythmic motion. I could feel the strength in his arms as he held me in position. He wasn’t going to stop till I released and I wasn’t going to hold back for much longer either.

  My orgasm shook me and I moaned loudly, and in the next instance I felt him release as well. Grant grunted repeatedly as he came and I smiled as I felt him reel from the pleasure of his orgasm. We had come together, again and I could feel the throbbing inside me where his cock had stroked.

  Grant’s hands were tight on my waist as he emptied his seed into me. I was choked up with the pleasure he had given me and my body was still quivering from the force of my orgasm. My heels were starting to hurt my feet and all I wanted to do was lie down.

  It wasn’t till several minutes later, when neither of us had said a word that Grant finally began to pull himself out. I felt an instant panic that it was over. That we had solved nothing, and that things would go back to being the way they were.

  When I turned I found him still standing naked behind me. A smile was forming on his face.

  “Now that it’s out of the way, can we just sit down and talk to each other, Beverley?” he said and I gulped. I couldn’t believe this was real and it had all actually happened.

  Chapter 22

  Grant

  Beverley and I put our clothes back on, exchanging glances the whole time.

  “Do you maybe want to come into my office?” she asked, in a voice that had softened. Her cheeks were flushed and she shied from looking directly in my eyes.

  “Yeah, we should probably do that,” I said and placed a hand on her warm waist as she led me towards her office. We had been naked for too long and it felt strange to be back to being clothed again, but Beverley was delicious to look at no matter what. I already wanted more.

  We entered a small office space and she walked around her desk to sit down, facing the multiple computer screens in front of her. In silence, I took the chair across from her and sat down.

  “So…” she began, looking about her nervously and I cleared my throat. I wanted to jump in and confess everything before she had a chance to change her mind again.

  “Look, I meant every word I said. In college I wanted to get to know you and we didn’t have an opportunity to, so I want to take the time to do so now,” I said and realized that my words had come blurting out. Beverley looked surprised to hear me say them and she straightened herself and licked her lips.

  “I wouldn’t have thought that you even saw me, back in college,” she said and I smiled and shook my head.

  “You misjudged me, Beverley. You thought I was competing with you or that I was like all the other guys I hung out with. Well, you were wrong,” I told her and she looked at me with her large green eyes. Her face had softened, she wasn’t as defensive against me any more.

  “You didn’t give me any reason to doubt my judgement,” she said.

  “What? Because I dated cheerleaders?” I asked with a laugh and she shrugged her shoulders.

  “Yeah, too many of them. And now, after we’ve been out of college…you’ve had the reputation for dating models and actresses. Nobody would have thought that you could be attracted to someone like me,” she said. She was still nervous, but that could be because of how she was laying her heart bare.

  I leaned towards her desk, still on my chair and arched an eyebrow at her.

  “You mean someone attractive, and intelligent and successful like you? Yeah, sure, what’s there to like,” I said and finally, Beverley was smiling. Just a soft grin that made the sides of her lips rise up but that was enough. She had no idea how I truly felt about her and it was baffling that she thought so little of herself.

  “Well, one thing I’m not is successful. At least not as compared to you or what I thought I’d be able to achieve,” she said and I shook my head.

  “You’re wrong, Beverley. You focused on your product, on your technical skills while I spent time on my business, to finding investors. Which is why I think that we’d make a great team,” I said and looked deep into her eyes. I wanted her to see me, to truly see me and trust me.

  “So, you do want me to come and work with you?” she asked and I nodded.

  “Yes, I do. We just have to find a way to make this work on both a professional and personal level,” I told her and she was blushing again.

  We were looking at each other, till she drew her gaze away from me and tucked in some of her hair behind her ears.

  “I never thought that someone like you could like me. Not in this way at least…like actually be attracted to me,” she said and I stood up from my chair and walked over to her. Beverley craned her neck to look up at me and I pressed my forefinger on her lips.

  “I don’t want you to talk that way, Beverley, please. You don’t know how special you are. What you do to me and how you’ve always inspired me to work harder. I’ve always wanted to live up to you. This was never a competition for me, rather I wanted to prove myself to you,” I said and she stood up from her chair.

  Silently, she placed her head on my shirt. A few buttons were missing now, from the force with which she had ripped my shirt off my body earlier. I cradled her in my arms and swung her gently from side to side. I had never experienced this raw tenderness before, this feeling of being able to hold a woman in my arms and not worry about what she wanted from me. I was willing to give Beverley whatever she wanted.

  Her arms had wound around my mid-riff as she pressed herself closer to me. We had been standing there like that for a relatively long time. I could sense that she was thinking as well, just like my own mind was racing with thoughts. Finally, she raised her head and looked up at me.

  I smiled when I saw her face, still ruddy on the cheeks but bright and excited. For the first time, Beverley looked truly happy and I couldn’t believe that I’d caused it.

  “When can I start?” she asked and I smiled wide.

  “So you’ve accepted my offer?” I said and she nodded her head.

  “I want to work with you and I want to be with you, Grant,” she added in a quiet voice and I lowered my face to kiss her on her lips again.

  Chapter 23

  Beverley

  Eight months later

  I didn’t walk to work any more, so when I looked at my watch and it was seven already; I wondered where Grant was. We usually left the office together. We worked on different floors. I had my office space with Susan, John and Sasha while he still worked from his own. Usually at six thirty, Grant buzzed me on the intercom and asked me what time I would be finished. This evening, he hadn’t and I pressed the button to reach him.

  Instead of Grant, his secretary answered the call.

  “He’s already left the office, Ms Wade,” she said and I had my brows crossed. In the past eight months, since I started working at Lonex, Grant had never left without calling me first.

  “Is he coming back?” I asked her and she sounded nervous, like she didn’t want to come between a quarreling couple and she definitely didn’t want to betray her boss.

  “I’m not sure, Ms Wade. He didn’t leave a note,” she said.

  “No problem. I’ll get a hold of him on his personal phone. Thanks,” I said to her, as politely as possible and hung up the phone.

  I hadn’t been paying attention to the time, but I would have heard him calling if he had. This was unlike him, and also made me wonder if something had happened.

  The past eight months had been a whirlwind of experiences and emotions. We had started off by testing the waters with a few formal dates, he drove me back home on all those occasions till one night I asked him to come in. We hadn’t had sex for a month when we officially started dating, because I wanted him to prove to me that it was more than just about the sex.

  After we had been together for three months; Grant asked me to move in with him. I was skeptical initially, not because of my feelings for him which were stronger than ever, but because I didn’t th
ink he knew what he wanted.

  I was still in disbelief, that my boyfriend Grant was the same Grant Jennings from college. The King of Silicon Valley. My impression of him was entirely wrong? Everyone’s impression of him? When I agreed to move in with him a few days later, I did so with doubts still whirling around in my head. I was still not a hundred percent sure that this was what Grant really wanted. I often caught myself wondering if he missed his old carefree life. I was his first real girlfriend…one who had lasted for more than just a couple of weeks. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was itching to go back to his old ways.

  In the past few days, I had noticed a change in him again. The first few months of us living together was happy and normal and we were getting comfortable together. And now suddenly, in the last couple of days, I saw that he had become a little reserved. He might have even been nervous around me. He was speaking a little less, and sometimes when we lay on the couch watching TV together; I’d catch him staring at me.

  So out of the blue, the fact that he had simply left for home without informing me unbalanced me.

  I stood up from my chair and grabbed my coat from the rack before heading downstairs. I could take a cab I thought, but I was nervous about how Grant was feeling. Was he cheating on me? Did he have second doubts about our relationship. There was no way of knowing unless I actually spoke to him about it.

  The whole way down the elevator, I could feel my heart racing. I was in love with him, had always been and I was desperate to not lose him. But somewhere at the back of my mind, I’d always known that he was way out of my league.

  The elevator doors slid open and I stepped out into the lobby of the Lonex building, to find all my colleagues, everyone who worked in the building gathered there. There had to be at least a hundred people, who were standing there, creating a parted pathway for me to exit through.

  I looked around me in surprise. I had no idea what was happening and I tried to catch someone’s eye who could tell me. When I looked ahead again, I saw Grant at the other end of the tunneled clearing. He was in a fresh black tuxedo with a red bowtie at his neck. He was smiling at me invitingly while I rushed towards him, still in shock from what was going on.

  As I approached him, Grant fell to one knee and a loud gasp rang out in the crowd around us. I could feel my fingers quivering as I slowed my pace. He was slipping out a small blue velvet box from the pocket of his pants. The smile on his face grew wider the closer I got to him and I placed a hand on my heart.

  “Grant…” I said, my voice was a near whisper.

  “Beverley, will you do me the honor of being my wife? I love you. I worship you and I have never been happier before,” he said, in a clear strong voice before I could say anything else.

  I could hear the murmur in the crowd. Everyone who worked with Grant was surprised. He had organized this grand public gesture for me, and nobody could believe that a guy like Grant Jennings could do something like this.

  “Yes, Grant, of course I will,” I said and everyone was clapping. Grant slipped the huge solitaire diamond ring on my finger as he stood up and swooped me into his arms. We kissed passionately, a little too passionately for a public place but neither of us cared.

  “I thought you were acting nervous the past couple of days, I was getting worried,” I whispered in his ear when I drew away from him. I could barely hear him over the applause and cheers from everyone around us.

  “I was nervous because I wasn’t sure if you’d want to marry me,” he said. As if.

  Billionaire Smutty Romance Collection

  BOOK 1: BAD BOY BALLER

  MAYA

  I was young and stupid, but that was no excuse. Everyone is young and stupid at some point in their life, but not everyone makes the mistakes I'd made. It all started when my brother Luke brought over a new friend. I was a senior in high school, a good girl. A girl my family could be proud of. I didn't go out and party like my brother. I studied. I worked hard. I was going to be a doctor one day, and that meant taking advanced classes while I was in high school, to prepare myself for college and beyond.

  I was the white sheep of the family, my brother the black one. He would disappear for days on end, partying and drinking, until he finally couldn't party anymore. Even at twenty-one, he was still living at home. He worked mostly odd jobs – his latest one at a club in Chicago. Luke told me all about it, making it sound like an incredible opportunity, rather than the latest waystation on the road to nowhere he was on. But I'd listen as he told me how great it was to sling drinks and flirt with all the hot women – and to get paid for it too.

  He'd apparently found his dream, and I guess that I had to be happy for him.

  Every week, we had a family dinner. It was something of a tradition with my folks. Once a week, we'd all gather around the table and eat a home-cooked meal, all in one place. During the week, my father's job kept him away a lot and Luke was, well, Luke. He was hardly ever around. But he was good about never missing a family dinner. Mostly because mom would have had his hide if he had.

  But I remember clearly, this one specific family dinner, when Luke brought a friend from work to our weekly family gathering.

  “His name is Reese,” he told my mom beforehand.

  “Reese isn't family, dear,” she said. “Only family should be at family dinner.”

  Yeah, my mom was a bit uptight. Sometimes too uptight for her own good. But I had to admit that I agreed with her. At least on this one thing. I didn't want any of my brother's scumbag friends hanging out with us. Especially not on the one night we were supposed to come together as a family.

  “He has no family, mom. I feel bad for the kid,” Luke complained. “Would you really turn away a guy who has no family instead of welcoming him into ours for an evening?”

  I rolled my eyes as I listened from the living room. My brother knew how to work it and play on my mom's heart strings. It made me sick.

  I heard my mom sigh as I walked into the kitchen. She put the lasagne in the oven and wiped her hands on her apron. She tried a little too hard to be the picture of the perfect mom – her perfectly coifed hair, the church dress, the pearls around her neck. She had that Donna Reed thing going on, but was exactly the type of woman I aspired to be. Except, of course, that I wanted a career. I gave her props for all she did, but being a stay-at-home mom wasn't for me. In that regard, I was more like my dad – who was a doctor too, of course.

  “Fine, I guess I shouldn't be so cold,” she said. “Tell him he can come over, but please – and I beg of you, Luke – tell him to make sure he dresses properly. None of those baggy jeans and baseball caps at the table.”

  I snickered. It was hard enough to get Luke to dress properly, especially back then. He was trying so hard to be a gangster type – baggy jeans, tennis shoes that cost his entire pay check, baseball caps turned backward with the brim left unmoulded. He didn't want people to believe he was the adult son of a doctor and a stay-at-home wife living in middle class suburbia outside of Chicago. That would have damaged his street cred or whatever he called it.

  If Luke heard me laughing, he ignored me. Instead, he agreed – reluctantly – that they'd dress appropriately for the dinner table. Though, it didn't take a genius to know that his idea of appropriate and my mom's likely didn't match up too well. I figured we'd be lucky if he wore anything that even remotely resembled appropriate dinner table attire.

  When he brought Reese over though, I wasn't surprised to see that the kid was wearing the exact attire that mom had said not to wear to the table. Of course, he was. So was my brother.

  But Reese, unlike my brother, made it look natural. Unlike my upper middle-class, spoiled snot of a brother, Reese actually looked the part. His brown hair was shaggy and stylishly messy. And unlike my brother, he had the decency to take his hat off at the dinner table – something that surprised the hell out of me.

  My mom shook her head, mumbling to herself about ungrateful kids, but she let it go without causing a scen
e. She never let us argue at the dinner table and always made sure to set the example for us.

  I, of course, was dressed in a pink floral skirt with a white, button-up blouse. Not the type of outfit I'd wear to school, but for family dinner, I was expected to dress a little nicer than normal. My father usually wore whatever he wore to work that day – usually a shirt and tie.

  “Luke, would you care to say grace?” my mom asked, shooting him a look of pure death that was camouflaged by a saccharine sweet smile, of course.

  “I'd rather not,” my brother said. “I'm sure Maya would be more than willing though.”

  It was my father, the one who normally didn't like confrontation, who started the dinnertime prayer. I bowed my head, but caught myself staring over at Reese with wide eyes. He pretended to bow his head, but while everybody had their heads lowered, he looked around our dining room, his eyes almost as wide as mine, but probably for different reasons.

  I was staring because Reese was actually pretty hot. My dorky brother usually had dorky-looking friends, but this time, his friend wasn't so bad on the eyes. So, sue me. I was a warm-blooded high school girl who didn't get much attention from boys because I was shy and often kept my face hidden by a book. But there was an older guy, someone with a little more experience behind him than the stupid boys in my high school class. I stared until Reese caught me staring. I quickly looked away, my cheeks flushed with embarrassment.

  My father ended the prayer and we all started eating. I kept my eyes lowered and tried hard not to get caught staring again. I was, after all, a dorky high school girl and he was a cooler, older guy who worked at a club. There was no way, in a million years, my brother's best friend was going to look twice at me.

  But a girl could dream, couldn't she?