My Billionaire, page 1
My Billionaire
James Thrust
Contents
Cover Design
Copyright
Some Time Ago…
1. Blake
Blake: One Week Before:
2. Blake
3. Blake
4. Blake
5. Blake
6. Blake
7. Max
8. Blake
9. Blake
10. Blake
11. Blake
12. Blake
13. Blake
14. Blake
15. Blake
16. Max
17. Blake
18. Blake
19. Blake
20. Max
21. Max
22. Blake
23. Blake
24. Blake
25. Blake
26. Blake
27. Blake
28. Blake
29. Max
30. Blake
31. Max
32. Blake
33. Blake
34. Max
35. Blake
36. Blake
37. Max
38. Blake
39. Blake
40. Blake
Epilogue
Thank You
Cover Design
My Billionaire
By James Thrust
Published By Steamy Pages
Copyright 2018 James Thrust
All Rights Reserved
Cover Design by James Thrust
Copyright
Copyright © 2018 by James Thrust
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, things, living or dead, locales or events is entirely coincidental.
Some Time Ago…
Blake
It was like a dream. That was the best way to put the way it felt, being with him. There was no other way to put it, as he leaned forward, his lips finding mine. The kiss wasn’t just good, or even great. It was perfect. It was everything I wanted, and in some ways, even more. My experiences with other men had until that point been so… limited. It was not what I had wanted from life, and I knew that deep down I had wanted something more. That was not to say that I hadn’t known I was gay, or that I hadn’t already experienced the touch of a man. No, far from it. I had been with a man before, and I knew that I was gay, but it was different this time. He was different. It really was that there was something so much more about him. Which was why it was so mesmerizing to have him looking at me that way. Not just as a fellow gay man, but one that found me truly irresistible.
He was, of course, everything I wanted. I had known that until I’d seen him without his shirt on, his gorgeous muscles practically bulging in the light. I like to keep my own body in shape as well, but there is a degree of finesse that his definition had that mine lacked. Not that he seemed to mind.
“Look at you,” he said, reaching out and touching my cheek. “You’re gorgeous,” he added.
“I don’t know about any of that,” I said, blushing a little as I took a step back. I didn’t want to come off as vain. Of the two of us, only he could get away with it. An advantage of being incredibly wealthy.
“I do,” he said firmly.
I got lost in his eyes then, the way they sparkled the pale light of the bedroom. It was in that moment that I knew what had to happen, not because anybody was forcing anyone else, because we both wanted it, down to the bone.
He was already shirtless, but I was still wearing a tight black T-shirt. He reached forward, grabbing the hem of it, and pulled it up in over my head. He tossed it aside, and I quivered as he reached out again, his soft hands tracing the lines of my chest.
“Beautiful,” he murmured, and then leaned forward and kissed my neck softly, and I could feel familiar twinge below my belt.
Almost as though he was psychic, he reached forward and grabbed my cock through my jeans, and squeezed it.
“Oh good, you’re as excited for me as I am for you,” he said. “Let me show you,” he added, and took my hand, and pulled it to the very noticeable bulge of his pants. His cock wasn’t just hard, it was hard like a Greek statue.
Things progressed quickly from that point, and both of our pants quickly came off, and our underwear. He had on white boxer briefs, I had on blue-gray boxers.
He pushed me back aggressively onto the bed, and there was a devilish grin on his face as he leaned forward and gripped the base of my shaft. I let out a soft moan as he began to stroke it.
I could feel his hot breath on the tip of my tool, and I close my eyes in anticipation. And then the heat was gone. My eyes shot open like I’d been awoken from a bad dream, and I looked down at him. He was still right where he had been, and his devilish grin was even wider, practically splitting his face.
“You have to beg,” he said.
I considered resisting him, I considered arguing with him, demanding him to wrap his soft lips around the head of my cock, but I decided against all of that. With anyone else, I would have done just that, but with him… it was so hot because it was so different, so special. So instead of doing what my natural instincts were, I went against them. I did exactly what he asked.
“Please sir,” I begged. “Please wrap your mouth around my dick.”
He didn’t, not instantly. Instead he hung there, like he was considering his options, and then he winked, and leaned forward. His mouth wrapped around my head, and I let out a small gasp, the heated sensations erupting from my penis and coursing through my body, like an electric current.
It was magnificent, and I close my eyes to savor every last second of it. I didn’t need to think about anything else as he savored my cock, and in that moment I knew that I was in for something truly special.
I had head before of course, but this time, it was something truly special. I couldn’t believe just how damn good he was at it, and as I laid there, savoring every second of it, I realized there was no where else in the entire world that I would want to be. It was truly everything I wanted, and in some ways it was even more.
“That’s it,” I moaned, as he continued to suck, and I realized in that moment that he wasn’t just seeming to enjoy it, but he was getting really into it. I couldn’t believe how good it felt, and I opened my eyes again, focusing on his head that was bobbing up and down on my cock. He looked amazing doing it, and I enjoyed every second of it.
“Oh God,” I moaned louder, and in response, he started to moan as well and then take even more of me in his mouth.
“Don’t stop!” I cried out, and if anything, he sped up.
He knew I was close. I knew I was close. I reached out, and grabbing the back of his head I started to thrust up with my hips, and I could feel the rush building inside of me, the wall of the orgasm that I knew that at any second was going to just outright blow.
And then.
Then I came hard, my cock twitching in his mouth, my load hitting the back of his throat and his only response was to moan even more eagerly and swallow every last drop.
“Damn,” I said, falling back on the bed, my eyes closed, my breathing hard.
He moved up the bed and me slowly, kissing my bare and sweaty chest as he did. When he got to my lips, he kissed me softly, and I returned it. It was even more erotic than I thought, tasting me on his lips.
And then I woke up with a start. I wasn’t in bed with some strange man that had been in the middle of fulfilling all of my desires. No, I was just in my tiny apartment, with my girlfriend asleep next to me. I rolled over. I had had that dream before, but it had been awhile. It had never been so vivid either, or something that at the moment I had wanted so much.
I slipped out of bed quietly and made my way to the bathroom. I stared at myself for a long time in the mirror. Nope. It was just regular old Blake. Straight guy in a long term committed relationship. It might be a little boring, but it was who I was.
A straight man.
Right?
It might have been just how late it was, or just how erotic the dream had been, but in that moment, I did wonder.
Was I really who I thought I was? Who I was living as.
I shook my head and splashed some water on my face before heading back to bed.
My life maybe wasn’t as exciting as the dream had been, but I was happy.
But the last thought that entered my head as I drifted back to sleep was, am I happy? And you sure seemed to want it in the dream to truly be a straight guy.
When I awoke in the morning, I didn’t remember any of it.
1
Blake
The thick stack of paper stared up at me from the glass desk, looking far heavier and more ominous than the weight that the paper employed. I could feel my heart beating faster as I looked at that top sheet again. In theory, I was supposed to sign it. I never would have dreamed, let alone hoped that I would get such an offer, but now that it stared back at me… I wasn’t sure if I could actually go through with it. Even though almost ever inch of me wanted to.
“Well?” he asked, sitting calmly across from me, his hands neatly clasped toge
My eyes fluttered up to him and I swallowed hard, still unsure. Slowly, as though my hand had a mind of its own, it reached down and picked up the silver fountain pen. I unscrewed the cap, admiring the silver and gold inlay of the pen’s tip.
Still, the silver fountain pen trembled in my hand a little as I moved the tip towards the egg-shell-white page. This wasn’t just a regular job offer after all, this was… not signing away my life, but certainly making it obvious I was no longer under any pretense of living an “ordinary” life.
Of course, I had never really wanted a normal life, even if for a while I had ended up living one. Going forward, if a normal life had been presented to me, I honestly wouldn’t have known what to do with it. All of this, the strangeness of it all, all of, while it was odd, it certainly felt more like me.
Just like the paper staring at me.
Taunting me.
Daring me.
“There’s no pressure you know. I only want you to agree to this if you think it’s a good idea. I think you’ll grow to not just enjoy it, but maybe even love it. Of course, there’s only one way to find out.”
Enjoy. God, even his voice sends a shiver down my spine. Oh, I’d enjoy it all right. That’s not really the question I was worried about.
No, what I’m really worried about is enjoying it too much. Wanting it too much. If this gorgeous, mysterious man can make me feel the way he does by just his voice and the copious looks he gives me… God, what’s it going to be like if he touches me?
I shivered at the thought and pressed the fountain pen to the page. My neat simple signature spilled out over the page, and the ink was a deep burgundy. I dated it and added my initials to the line below my name, and then flipped forward five pages and signed at the bottom of that page as well, and then three more times, on pages seven, nineteen and finally twenty-two.
My hand wasn’t shaking when I finished and I screwed the cap of the pen back on it and placed it carefully on top of the contract before sliding it across the table back to him.
He didn’t reach to read it though. Instead his eyes flickered down to the page, and then back up to me, and then back down to the contract again.
“So, it’s official then.”
“Signed, dated and everything,” I chimed, my words filled with my usual spunk even though it was more of a muscle memory than how I felt in the moment.
I was nervous, but I didn’t want to show it.
He reached down and picked up the pen and twirled it between his long fingers for a moment before slipping it into the breast pocket of his suit coat. He pushed off with his knuckles from the table and stood up, towering over me with his impressive, muscular frame.
I had always liked that he was tall. There was just something so comforting about him casting a shadow over me.
“Well then, I guess we should begin,” he said, with that damn voice of his.
I couldn’t help myself and trembled a little. I tried to keep my voice steady as I spoke up. “Wait, you mean right now?”
He grinned, flashing me his brilliant white teeth with a dangerous twinkle in those deep blue eyes of his. They were the color of the ocean in the morning, when the sunrise hits it just right. I could get lost staring into those eyes all day.
“No time like the present.”
He had me there. I swallowed hard and nodded my head before standing up, brushing a strand of my hair out of my face.
“Okay. Where do you want to begin?” I asked.
Instead of responding he just kept grinning at me, and in that moment, I knew I was completely and totally done for.
Blake: One Week Before:
I should have been heartbroken. That was the thought I kept coming back to, the ugly seed of a clear thought in the back of my skull, that kept repeating itself over and over. Yes, I was certainly distracted as I sat there pouring over minute notes from the meeting last Friday with the Heartland group, but I did not feel heartbroken.
Three years of getting to know somehow, three years of building something together… and it was all gone, in a single instance.
It had all started the previous Friday, the evening after the faithful meeting at work. It had been a tense month leading up to that meeting, but the meeting itself had gone better than anyone thought was possible. We had all simply kicked major amounts of ass, and somehow everything had just sort of worked. We had gone out as a group afterward, and rumor was that even the big man upstairs had heard about the meeting. (That in of itself was not outside the realm of possibility, but I personally had my doubts. Billionaire’s don’t usually get involved with mid-level meetings.)
Still, it was a successful meeting, and I did feel good about that. Expensive drinks were put on the cooperate account, and I took an Uber home, happy to share the news with Claire.
She had seemed distant of late, but I hadn’t really minded it. That was just the way the things went sometime, and I thought my, “at work” stress might have added to it. Because really, of course it probably had.
I greeted her warmly, and she greeted me less so. Still, we curled up on the couch and started watching a movie together. About an hour into it she went to the bathroom, and while she did her phone chirped on the coffee table. I don’t know why, but I picked up the phone and looked at it. It was a picture message from a dude named Ed. I didn’t know that Claire knew anyone named Ed.
After being together for three years, I would have thought that name would have come up.
I had always trusted Claire, though I’ve never really thought much about it.
I guess that’s why I thought it was so odd when I found myself punching in her password and looking at the message.
It was even odder seeing the picture that Ed had sent over, with a nice little text at the bottom.
Can’t wait till next time. Maybe we can beat our three-hour record.
The picture was of I guess Ed doing Claire from behind in what appeared to be a hotel room.
Four days later I may not be heartbroken, but in that instance the pit of my stomach certainly dropped out from the bottom of it.
Claire came out of the bathroom and saw her phone in my hand, and folded her arms across her chest. “What are you doing?” she had snapped.
The conversation didn’t matter, but in short order I found myself taking a walk around the block, because I couldn’t handle it. When I got back the door was locked, and my suitcase was sitting in the hallway to our apartment.
I stayed in a motel for the weekend. I didn’t try to text her, and she made no attempt to contact me. When Monday rolled around, it was bizarre to wake up in a strange room in my city to go to work, but that was just what I did. After all, it was a new week, and it was going to be just as busy as the week before.
Still, it was nice getting back to work so I didn’t have to think about her as much.
Like that worked.
Because of course I thought about Claire. How could I not?
It was a mixture of a lot of things, but mostly I was surprised at how numb I felt about the whole thing.
I guess it was that our relationship had just seemed so stable, so… clear that I wasn’t really expecting anything to change anytime soon. Of course, I also wasn’t really thinking about it either. It just was a part of my life. We were a part of each others lives.
And over one weekend, it was all over. Monday afternoon I finally texted her, telling her I wanted to get back into the apartment, since it was under my name. She did not respond. I was too busy to want to fight with her though, which I suppose may have been (one) of our problems. Maybe we had gotten so used to living together that our passion had simply faded away. Maybe there really was nothing left there, for either of us. That thought made me incredibly sad.
Still, while it did make me sad, and borderline depressed even, all of that did not make me feel one specific emotion, one that I would have expected to feel…
