The CEO's Fantasy (The Billionaire Bachelors Series)

by RG Alexander

  The word is out and it’s spreading like wildfire that the reformed rogue might be reverting to his former bad boy status. Over the last three weeks he’s been spotted all over town in dark restaurants, crowded nightclubs and—though this can’t be confirmed—in a limousine during rush hour traffic, getting cozy a new partner in crime. Let’s just say that particular report made Ms. Anonymous blush. And you know that takes creativity and effort.

  The woman who has brought out our rogue’s inner devil, however, isn’t his usual type. I haven’t been able to get her name, but I hear she and her nonstop curves stand out in a crowd. Unfortunately their escapades might add up to trouble for our handsome young tycoon.

  An unimpeachable source has informed me that his lack of discretion has concerned the board at Warren Industries. The annual vote on whether our rogue can keep a hold of the reins has been moved up and could happen as soon as this week. What do you think, readers? Should a wild and kinky summer fling result in a slap on the wrist, or a permanent boot in the behind? Our billionaire’s bank account won’t suffer, but his reputation will definitely need more polishing. I’m sure his new lady friend will be more than willing to help.

  You’ll know more as soon as I do.

  “You’re responsible for this aren’t you?” Dean glared at his uncle while the older man sat in his chair, looking smug and victorious. “You can’t give up your crusade and enjoy retirement, I know, but this is low even for you.”

  “I’ll disappear to an island as soon as I get this albatross off our family’s neck,” he replied. “Stop trying to make me the bad guy. I’m not hiding my involvement in the article, Dean. Nor that I’ve kept an eye on you. Why would I? You obviously don’t want the responsibility or you wouldn’t have chosen this time of year to lose control of your baser urges. When your parents died, the will clearly stated—”

  “That you and an appointed board of trustees would retain the ability to offer a vote of no confidence once a year until you were satisfied with my commitment. If a no vote was cast, you would instantly retake controlling interest and be able to sell off the company as you saw fit.” Dean finished for him. “That will was written when my father thought I had no desire to take over for him and you thought you did. How you’ve managed to convince them to continue this farce and make it about my personal life instead of my job performance is beyond me, but I want you to know it’s over now.”

  It should have been over years ago, but Dean had been so busy trying to prove he could run the company better than his father had. His uncle had only added fuel to that fire with his constant comparisons, but he’d stepped over the line with Ms. Anonymous.

  With Sara.

  “Of course you’re not the bad guy. It’s normal for relatives to hire people to spy on each other. It just shows affection, right? But why would you give this gossip ammunition about my private life if you care so much about the family name?”

  Sara had seen it. She must have. She hadn’t answered his calls or responded to his messages all morning.

  She’d already been pulling away without telling him why. For days she’d been finding reasons why they couldn’t get together. Why she couldn’t stay the night. Would this article, which had thankfully stopped short of naming her, end their fantasy vacation for good?

  The knot in his stomach hardened. He wasn’t ready for that to happen.

  He studied his uncle, needing to ask. “Why won’t you let me buy you out? My offers have been more than generous.”

  “Spite, of course.” His uncle shook his head almost regretfully. “Or good sense. Dean, your father was a spoiled idiot who got away with everything and had no concern for who he left drowning in his wake. I watched you grow up, and for the most part, I can’t see the difference between you. The more you’ve tried to pretend you’re not like him, the stronger the resemblance grows. I knew you wouldn’t be able to settle down. Knew you’d slip.” He paused. “I also know exactly who you slipped with. You were clever enough to compile a whole file on the woman who was technically still on the books as an employee when you started up with her. No doubt you convinced the poor thing to quit her job so you could pat yourself on the back for not breaking your own rules.”

  “You don’t know me at all.” Dean realized it was true. He’d wasted the last five years trying to gain the approval of a stranger.

  “No? I don’t know that her supervisor put in a recommendation to hire her back that has conveniently been ignored? You didn’t have a hand in keeping a valued employee from earning you a profit so you could bang her in a public restroom?” He shook his head again, getting to his feet. “If I can find that out, Ms. Anonymous can too. You don’t want that, which is why you’ll let this vote happen next Tuesday and have it play out the way it needs to. And when the trustees perform their final function, you can breathe a sigh of relief, and I’ll treat them all to a European vacation before I sell lock, stock and barrel to a buyer who has already offered me three times the annual revenue. I hear he wants to build a multi-level parking garage.”

  He knew about Sara. Had her file. Knew what Dean hadn’t told her about her job being available or the supervisor’s requests.

  But Dean knew things too. His uncle might believe he’d won, and he’d let him go on thinking it while he could.

  He’d find out soon enough.

  If I can find that out, Ms. Anonymous can too.

  He needed to talk to Sara.

  Once his uncle left, Dean made a few phone calls then found himself in the parking garage. His car had shown up in his driveway last week with a smiley-faced Post-It taped to his windshield and no clues as to where it had been.

  At least Henry hadn’t crashed the damn thing.

  Before he could get take three steps, he ran into a familiar security guard who glared at him as if he’d kicked his puppy.

  “Bruce, right?” Dean nodded at the man. “Nice to see you again.”

  If the look on Bruce’s face was any indication, the feeling was not mutual. Great. Twenty-third floor gossip had struck again, and he didn’t have the time or patience to deal with anyone’s judgment. Sara’s was the only one that mattered.

  “Mr. Warren, sir?” Bruce was following him. Dean stopped, turning around with an impatient frown. “I have something for you.”

  He reached into his pocket and pulled out an envelope. “Ms. Charles is a nice girl.”

  “I’m sure she is.” Dean sighed apathetically, knowing the only way to protect her was to deny their relationship. “I appreciate the character reference, but since all I did was drive her home, I‘m not entirely certain why you felt the need to share that with me.”

  “You know why,” Bruce muttered as he turned and walked away.

  He did. Nice girls didn’t end up linked to billionaires in tabloids. Nice girls didn’t have summer flings that eyewitnesses felt the need to observe and report. He should have been more careful. Should have known his uncle would hire people to watch him, but even if he hadn’t, he should have been more careful. Someone was always watching. His desire for Sara had blinded him to his reality.

  What was he going to say to her when he found her? I’m sorry wasn’t enough. Being more careful with her wasn’t something he could guarantee, not with the way he reacted every time he touched her. The more he had her, the more he wanted. He hadn’t felt so alive, hadn’t laughed or played so hard, in years. He didn’t want it to end yet.

  He didn’t want it to end period.

  The square note card in the envelope had an address on it. Below were the initials SC. Sara. Dean didn’t hesitate. He got into his car and started to drive.

  The phone rang almost immediately and he pushed a button on his steering wheel. “What?”

  “I always feel like the voice of God on your damn car speaker. Hello, Dean. This is God calling. I can see you. Stop touching that!”

  Dean rolled his eyes. “Funny. You sound a lot like that bastard Henry. You can’t be, though, because he went
missing a few weeks ago after stealing my car and turning off his phone. If you find him, let him know I’d really like to kick his ass.”

  Henry laughed. “Don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy the Hummer. A little bird told me you got more use out of it than I ever have. I’m guessing that means you took my advice then? Broke your rules with the curvy redhead at work?”

  “She quit before I got the chance to bend the rules. And what little bird? Because someone’s been talking to my uncle and Ms. Anonymous, and what she wrote not only pushed the board vote up to next Tuesday, but it might…” Destroy my chances with Sara. End the best month of my life. “It might ruin everything.”

  Static filled the silence when Henry paused. “She quit? What are the odds?”

  One in a million. Like Sara. “Where the hell are you, Henry? Did Peter find you? Or did you hit the road again without telling anyone?”

  “It’s a long, fascinating story and I’ll tell you about it soon, I promise. But first, what are you going to do about your redhead?”

  “Sara?” Dean clenched his jaw so tight he could hear the grinding of teeth and bone. “I’ll do what any man in my position does in these kinds of situations.”

  “Handcuff her to the bed until she forgives you?”

  He pulled into the driveway the address specified and parked. “That isn’t the worst idea I’ve ever heard. But then, I’m not exactly myself lately. For example, I usually disagree with your ideas.”

  “I hear you,” Henry muttered. “I’ll call you back after the vote. I want details.”

  “And where will you be?”

  Henry hesitated. “Buying handcuffs.”

  Dean heard the phone disconnect and grimaced. He wanted details too. But not until he discovered where Sara had brought him. And why.

  It was a quiet street in a tree-lined neighborhood dotted with townhomes and security fences, not unlike his own. The gate wasn’t locked. Dean walked up the steps, wondering what she was getting him into when the door swung open, revealing a familiar face.

  “Tracy?”

  The man looked pleased with himself. “Dean. I thought that was you. Come on in, we just finished your surprise and I don’t want to keep her waiting.”

  Dean’s hands curled into fists at his sides as he followed Tracy into a large, empty entryway. “We? What are you doing here, Reyes?”

  Tracy smiled. “You want to hit me, don’t you? I know that look and it’s a good sign, but I swear I was just helping out a lady. She needed to talk.”

  Seeing red, Dean stepped closer to his large friend. “I didn’t know you’d gotten friendly.”

  Tracy crossed his arms over his chest, lifting one dark eyebrow. “It was cute once, but don’t insult me, Dean. Anyway, blame your secretary for giving her my number. Sara was worried her vacation could destroy the damn company you love so much. Guess who gave her that idea? She thought if she stopped seeing you it would help.”

  No. That was exactly what he’d been afraid of. He had to talk to her. Reason with her. Handcuff and beg her if he had to. “Why are we standing in a vacant house, Reyes? Where the hell is Sara?”

  Tracy moved closer to the door. “I did a little impulse shopping after convincing her to indulge you in one last fantasy where no one will think to look for you. She’s upstairs and a bit…tied up at the moment, and she shouldn’t be left alone. Get to it.”

  Dean swore as Tracy disappeared out the door, closing and locking it behind him. “Tied up?” he muttered, turning and taking the stairs two at a time. “Sara? Sara where are you?”

  He opened the door to the impressively large master bedroom and froze, his mind needing a moment to register what his eyes were seeing.

  Sara Charles was a goddess.

  She was kneeling on a featherbed that had been draped with throw pillows and white sheets. Her gold-streaked auburn hair curled over her shoulders, caressing her flawless bare skin and reminding him of a Renaissance painting. The eyes studying him as he stood like a statue in the doorway were glittering green perfection. Vulnerable. Aroused. Determined. Despite her strength, he could see the fine tremor in her limbs. He didn’t have to wonder at the cause.

  “Tracy did this?”

  She nodded and he stepped closer to study his friend’s handiwork. Sara was well and truly bound. Thick white rope had been knotted expertly to form a harness framing her large breasts, tying her arms—wrist to shoulder—behind her back.

  The rope was wrapped around her thighs and calves beautifully as well, spreading her knees wide. Dean knew she wouldn’t be able to move. Knew how much trust was required to allow this kind of bondage.

  Trust in him, or Tracy?

  “You are...” His throat was tight and he swallowed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything so breathtaking in my life. But whose fantasy is this, Sara? I don’t remember this on my list.”

  She licked her lips and gestured toward the end of the bed. “It’s your fantasy, Mr. Warren. Your turn.”

  He forced himself to follow her gaze and started swearing. She was right, this was his fantasy. A camera identical to his stood on a tripod facing the bed. After Tracy had left that afternoon he’d shared Sara, Dean had taken her home and let her look through his old photographs. Particularly the series he’d done of bound submissives pleasuring their Doms. At the time he had been obsessed with capturing their expressions at the moment of realization. The ecstasy and revelation when they embraced their desires and understood their power.

  Every inch of Sara’s skin had been flushed as she looked through them. It had turned him on so much he hadn’t been able to resist taking her right there on the floor. He held her arms above her head, telling her how he wanted to pose her, what he would do to her body to ensure he got the perfect photograph.

  She’d remembered and recreated it perfectly. With Tracy’s help. “Sara, this is more than I could have asked for. More than I deserve. I wanted to find you. To tell you—”

  “Dean?” she interrupted shakily. “I can’t think like this. Not about that. You’re too far away and there’s rope between my thighs and Tracy told me how it would feel when you… Please, Dean. I need you.”

  Jesus. “Damn, I’m coming, baby. Hold on.” He started to strip out of his clothing, hearing a button fall to the ground and roll away as he walked to the camera. His hands were practically shaking as he checked the roll of film and ensured the shutter speed and auto timer were set correctly, then finished undressing and joined her with the control in his hand.

  He saw a bottle of lube, nipple clamps and a small hill of condoms on the floor beside the bed and chuckled roughly, climbing onto his knees behind her and stroking the skin of her back. “I hope we have enough.”

  Sara shivered. “So do I.”

  Dean reached for her chin and turned her face toward him, kissing her with everything he had inside. Things he hadn’t said yet. Things he wasn’t sure he could. She responded just as passionately, leaning into him.

  “I want to touch you,” she moaned when he lifted his lips.

  He shook his head. “Not this time, Sara. This time you have no choice but to let me do whatever I want to this body. When you let him—”

  “Wrap me up like a present for you?” she interrupted, reminding him of their first conversation.

  “Yes. When you did that, you gave me permission.”

  “For what?”

  “Everything.”

  She shivered. “Whatever you want.”

  “God, Sara.” He didn’t know where to begin. All the blood rushed away from his brain as he studied her body. Her full breasts were pushed together, perfect for his cock. Her soft lips parted and ready, her legs spread wide. Her ass. Jesus, her sweet, round ass.

  His. She was his.

  He gripped the ropes that crisscrossed her back, binding her arms, and tugged. “How does this feel, Sara?”

  “Constricting,” she answered breathlessly. “Revealing. Dangerous and safe at the same time.”
<
br />   He let her go, reaching down for the clamps before shifting himself to her side so he could see everything.

  “Don’t feel too safe,” he murmured, lowering his head and sucking one nipple into his mouth for a hot moment that had her moaning. “You’re lucky Tracy didn’t give you a taste of what he does to women once he has them bound. Lucky I don’t have that kind of patience around you.”

  Tracy was the lucky one. Dean didn’t want to think about what he would have done if he’d found them together. Which didn’t make a damn bit of sense since he’d invited the man into their fantasy game in the first place.

  Dean closed one clamp on her nipple and she gave a shout of surprise. “Oh!”

  “Yes, oh. Get ready to say that again, baby.” He sucked the other nipple, closing his eyes as her sweet scent surrounded him, before repeating the process. “You like that?”

  “I don’t know.” Her eyes were wide and dilated, her breasts rising and falling swiftly, making him painfully hard. “It hurt when you put the first one on but now…it feels like you’re still sucking them.”

  He groaned, lowering one hand between her thighs and tugging at the ropes so they rubbed against her sex. “And this? Do you like this too, Sara?”

  Her “Yes” was a nearly unintelligible moan.

  “Everything,” he growled, pulling the rope aside and pushing two fingers into her pussy, his other hand lowering without warning to spank the cheeks of her ass for taking away his control so easily. “I’ll never get over how perfectly you respond. How greedy you are. The way you need as much as I do.”

  “Yes.”

  His palm tingled as it connected with her soft flesh again. And again. She threw her head back, shouting in surprise. “And I’ll never get enough of this sweet ass, Sara. How it feels against my thighs, under my hands. How delicious it looks when it’s spread for my cock.”

  “Oh God, Dean.”

  He caressed the pink cheeks softly, marveling at their heat before he started to spank her again, the fingers in her pussy giving her just enough to keep her on the edge. “When it was just a fantasy, I could resist you. I could put it out of my mind for hours, even days at a time. But now I know. Now I’ve been inside and I know how you feel around me and it’s all I can think about. Getting inside again.”