Falling For My Enemy Read online

  But more words wouldn’t come, and suddenly my palms were clammy, my thighs squeezing tight with electricity. The billionaire seemed amused by my reaction, and eyes turned a deep, dark blue. Oh god, I could drown in that stormy ocean. But Mr. Evans is a businessman, and he doesn’t mince words.

  “You know what I mean,” he drawled. “You, as my plaything. You, naked and open for my touch. You, on your knees, begging when I say so.”

  WHAT?!?! He wanted me to serve drinks nude? He wanted me to …? What was happening?

  But the billionaire continued, unperturbed.

  “I’ll pay you for it. How about twenty-thousand dollars per leg of air-time in addition to your salary? That’s a lot, sweetheart. Twenty-thousand to be my plaything. Say you fly with me from JFK to Charlotte and then on to Chicago. That’s two legs. You make forty-thousand in one day, on top of everything else.”

  If before had been insane, then this was downright crazy. Forty thousand dollars for a day’s work? For flying two short legs? But wait … I had to service him nude during those flights. Swallowing heavily, I stared into mesmerizing blue eyes. And the words came unbidden then.

  “What does it mean to be your plaything?”

  The alpha’s grin was wolfish, like he might ravage me right then and there.

  “Good question, sweetheart. Because it means you, any way I want. Any time I want. Hot and nubile. You would be my in-flight entertainment so to speak.”

  Sweat trickled between my shoulder blades and slipped down my back, even as a sweet tingle began in my cunt. Was he crazy? Was this even legal? My tongue felt thick as I spoke again.

  “Does that mean… You know…?”

  Oh god. I was so naïve. Incredibly dumb and girlish, compared to this seasoned alpha male. But I’ve never been with a man before, much less a powerful and important billionaire who was probably used to all sorts of crazy sex stuff. Mr. Evans’ eyes darkened again, his smile calculating. Now, those blue eyes devoured me whole.

  “I’ll elaborate, pretty baby. It means my dick in your hot pussy, hard and real. Are you on board with this? After all, it’s twenty thousand dollars, sweetheart. Can you stretch your pussy for me to the tune of twenty thousand dollars a go?”

  Suddenly, something snapped inside my chest because I should have been offended. I should have been disgusted, and screamed sexual harassment, running out the door to protect my modesty. But instead, all I felt was excitement. Wetness pooled between my legs, and my insides went hot and soft. Oh god. Stone Evans saw me as a woman, and I saw him as a man, a powerful alpha male who desired my body. Slowly, my lips parted.

  “Yes sir. I can do that if you like.”

  The man smiled, pleased, and leaned back in his chair.

  “Good,” was his smooth reply. “Our first flight is tomorrow. As I said: JFK to Charlotte and then onto Chicago.” Suddenly, that voice dropped to a growl, making my whole body tremble. “Get ready to earn forty-thousand tomorrow, sweetheart. Do you think you can do it?”

  Oh god, oh god. My temperature must have gone up about a hundred degrees. Suddenly, the cavernous conference room with the giant oak table was too big. Everything disappeared until it was just me and the billionaire, our eyes locked together, devouring one another.

  But then the moment passed and Mr. Evans stood smoothly, so tall that his head almost touched the ceiling. I got up too, but my lungs wouldn’t inflate, and I stumbled for a moment, wobbling next to the conference table.

  “Gotcha,” he growled, one big hand grabbing my elbow and pulling my curvy form close. “Don’t you worry about a thing.”

  All of a sudden, it was on once again. We were pressed together, my big boobs right up against his chest. Oh shit, oh shit! Slowly, my head tilted back, chin up, meeting his eyes.

  But something unexpected happened again. Because I thought Mr. Evans would push me away. I thought he’d send me on my way with a friendly pat on the ass, nothing more.

  But instead, the billionaire bowed his head and brushed those sculpted lips against mine, a butterfly kiss that soared through my soul.

  Oh my god, was this really happening?

  Was I really kissing the CEO, right here in an empty office? Oh god. But it was true. That mouth was commanding and yet sensual at once, drugging my senses and filling my core with anticipation.

  Was this how it felt to be kissed by a man?

  Because I definitely wanted more. My body was on high alert, heating flooding every cell with awareness of this man.

  But with Mr. Evans, nothing is predictable because he pulled away then, looking deep into my big brown eyes.

  “You’re sweet, little girl,” he rasped. “I can’t wait to taste more. Now go before I rip you your clothes to shreds right here.”

  But as he moved away, I saw it then. That enormous tent in his pants. Straining, hard, and ready to burst. My eyes went wide because Mr. Evans had to qualify for the Guinness Book of World Records. I could even see the imprint of his glans, a rigid line delineating the shaft from the bulb, tantalizing and hot.

  Unbidden, my mouth filled with saliva because I wanted it. I wanted to touch, to taste, and to sample his hard, veiny rod. I wanted to take it inside myself and to mewl my pleasure to the heavens. But oh god, can I do it? What have I agreed to? Mr. Evans is hung like a horse, and how was that going to fit in me?

  Stone could read my mind because a deep chuckle erupted from that chest.

  “Like I said pretty girl, get ready to earn your forty-thousand tomorrow. Be there at six a.m. sharp, sweetheart. You’ll have to work hard, because it’s not going to be easy.”

  I nodded, tearing my eyes away momentarily. Heat flamed in my cheeks. Oh god, oh god! Moving as if in a daze, my feet carried me out of the room and down the hallway. Only when I was at the main door did I look back, and sure enough, there was Mr. Evans, devouring me with those hungry blue eyes.

  “Like I said,” he reiterated in a low voice. “Get ready to earn your keep.”

  Dazed, I stepped in the lift, and as the doors shut, I looked into his dreamy blue eyes. They were filled with promise, and I let out an involuntary sigh.

  Once the elevator started descending, a whimper escaped my throat and my hand gripped the bar on the side. Oh my god. What just happened? But then the elevator chimed, opening to reveal the lobby, and I was anonymous once again. I took a deep breath and tried to calm my racing heart. After all, I’d just agreed to be the plaything of a billionaire but these people didn’t know. The worst part was that Stone had offered to pay me, but it was totally unnecessary because in my heart of hearts, I knew I would have done it for free.

  Evelyn, please be home, my mind begged. I need your advice desperately.

  The subway ride home had been uneventful, but honestly, an earthquake couldn’t have jolted me from my daze. Because I’d just made an incredibly dirty deal … with my boss.

  Oh god, oh god. What do I do now?

  But when I let myself into the apartment, there was a scrunchie on her doorknob, which was the age-old sign of “Do not disturb.”

  Bummer.

  Well, conversation could wait then. I had a more urgent matter to attend to. Tossing my purse onto the old, worn couch in the living room, I kicked my shoes off hastily. My bedroom was as I had left it – clothes hanging out of dresser drawers and more clothes heaped on almost every surface. Oh well. The search for the perfect outfit had evidently worked just fine, because now I was in for a big-time payday.

  But I wanted to dream more. I wanted to visualize and explore within my mind. Mmm, Mr. Evans. What would that dong look like exposed and out in the open? What would happen when I finally got my hands on it? Would it fit in my mouth? My dress fell to the floor, pooling untidily. But who cares? Mr. Evans had me on a roll, and I wanted to play.

  Flopping onto my mattress, my mind filled with images of him again. Dark. Forbidding. Intimidating. And yet devastatingly sexy. This is really happening because I just agreed to be the plaything of a bi
llionaire. My first time was going to be with an alpha male who ruled the world.

  My hands slithered down into my panties. Ooh, that felt good! But it would feel even better when Mr. Evans did it. Suddenly, a chirp interrupted my fantasy. What?

  I grumbled and closed my eyes, trying to ignore the sound. But the damn cell buzzed again, before stopping.

  Good because I didn’t want to be bothered just now. Turning back to my reverie, I bit my lip once more, imagining Stone’s piercing blue eyes and devastating grin. But this time, a sharp knock sounded on my door.

  What the hell? Can a girl get a moment to herself around here? I was trying to masturbate in peace, but between the phone and the knock, my excitement had dissipated. Grumbling, I reached for a ratty robe and pulled it on.

  “Come in!” was my annoyed call. “Door’s open!”

  Evelyn, that sly cat, opened the door, leaning against the jamb. My buddy had full-face makeup on, but not in a good way. It was clear she had slept in it, the mascara and eyeliner smudged for big-time raccoon eyes. Not to mention her hair was a rat’s nest, the blonde strands poking this way and that.

  But did Evelyn care?

  No, not at all.

  Instead, my friend loves to gossip and wanted to get the deets.

  “So, tell me all about your swanky new job,” she purred. “You’re going to be rich now, right?”

  Sighing, I got up, striding into the kitchen. Grabbing a bottle of cheap, five-dollar wine, I poured a glass for each of us, plopping onto the couch. Might as well get into it. Evelyn’s been my best buddy since we were five years old, and we share everything, always. Sometimes too much because I don’t want to know about her geezer boyfriends. But hey. Someone’s got to listen to these tall tales.

  So I began with a sigh.

  “You’re never going to believe my day today,” were my slow words. “It was like being in a movie.”

  Evelyn took a long swig of her wine and leaned back into the couch again.

  “Ooooh, this sounds good. Did you join the Mile High Club with a sexy business man?” She stuck out her tongue and wriggled her butt on the ratty cushion.

  Ha ha.

  “No.” Not yet anyways. “It’s even crazier than that. You have to promise you’ll believe me, because it’s totally out of this world.”

  At that, Evelyn sat up, her expression solemn. Extending her pinky, we twined our fingers together in solidarity.

  “You got it,” she grinned. “I pinky promise. Now tell me, before I pop,” she commanded, getting comfortable on the sofa again.

  I took a deep breath. This story was a thousand times more scandalous than anything we’d ever heard before. It was ten times worse than the threesome Evelyn had with two seventy-year-olds last year. Because at least the retirees hadn’t paid her.

  But I was getting paid really well. And shamefully, the money didn’t even matter. Again, I would have done it for free. But did Mr. Evans know? Did he care? Or was I just a naïve girl about to make the biggest mistake of my life? And before I knew it, the story burbled out, complete with Evelyn’s gasps and squeals. Yep, I’m a scandalous woman now … and loving every minute of it.

  6

  Stone

  At least, this time the presentation was right. As I stepped onto the tarmac, my eyes took in the surroundings. The plane was waiting as always, sleek and white, like a great bird descended from the sky. The gangway stairs were already to the tarmac. A sleek, onyx sculpture had been placed on a pedestal next to the stairs.

  Nice. This presentation was worthy of Elite Air. It was elegant and refined, with none of that shitty faux movie-star stuff from before. Plus, there was a prize waiting inside. Morgan. My cock twitched at the thought of finally seeing her glorious body out of that tight little uniform. What did it look like? Visions had kept me up all night.

  Curvy.

  Round.

  Gorgeous.

  My mouth watered, and my dick involuntarily stiffened in anticipation. But this wasn’t the time. An employee nodded as I approached. “Good morning, sir. The plane’s ready.”

  I nodded back, going up the stairs. Odd. Morgan wasn’t at the door to say hello. I growled, eyes surveying the scene because she better be on this plane. Sure, I had a meeting in Charlotte, but it was bullshit. Who cares if those guys shot each other, and then themselves afterwards? What I really wanted was some private time with my girl.

  Striding to my chair, another impatient growl escaped my throat. Where the fuck was she? The smooth leather taunted me, a cruel substitute for soft, womanly flesh. I grunted, getting antsy.

  Creak.

  And suddenly Morgan came into view, carrying a cedar wood tray with rolled white towels and silver tongs. Her hips rocked like the swaying of a giant boat. The fresh scent of her lilac perfume and the unmistakable musky scent of female excitement hit me.

  “Hello, Mr. Evans,” the brunette murmured. “Welcome aboard.”

  Fuck, she’s gorgeous. My pulse thundered in my ears. My cock ached already, stiff and ready. She bent slightly, lifting one of the towels with silver tongs and extended it toward me. “Please, have a hot towel to help you refresh and relax before takeoff.”

  I accepted the item, rubbing damp, heated fabric over my hands. Shit. White-shoe service was nice, even better when it was done by a beautiful, creaming woman. I handed it back to her. And as our hands grazed, a blush bloomed in her cheeks.

  But Morgan recovered fast.

  “Would you like another, Mr. Evans?” Her breathy voice was soft, the girl even panting a little. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on her.

  Because this female was incredibly sweet and innocent with that sassy figure crammed in that stewardess outfit. Shit didn’t get better than this.

  “Please, enjoy the flight,” she murmured, straightening while still holding the tray. That shy smile made my cock pop. “I’ll return once we’re at cruising altitude, Sir.”

  Oh shit, oh shit.

  The “Sir” was what got me.

  The word sounded absolutely right coming from her lips. It’d sound even better when she was tied down and bound up, screaming with ecstasy.

  My balls fucking hurt as the brunette sashayed back down the aisle. Oh shit. I was a goner, and we hadn’t even taken off yet. This was going to be motherfucking hell until I got into that sweet body.

  The plane taxied down the runway, in line for takeoff. What the fuck was wrong? What was the cause of the delay? Was the president in town again or something? Shit. This fucking sucked.

  I checked my smartwatch and drummed my fingers on the armrest. Finally, the powerful engines roared to life, trembling a bit.

  And then we were off, lifting into the wide blue skies.

  Immediately, my thoughts went to Morgan.

  Where was she? What was she doing right now? Because her responses at our meeting had been charming. Innocent and naïve, but still charming. Oh shit. I was probably with a virgin.

  My dick throbbed at the thought.

  Untouched territory? Holy fuck, that would be amazing. These days, girls are used by age fourteen, if not earlier. No judgment because I lost my virginity young too. But still, virgin status was a treat.

  And after what seemed an eternity, Morgan appeared in the aisle once more. This time, she bore a gold tray with a flute of champagne and a small white bowl. Giant breasts bounced in her uniform as she strode toward me. Her lips were full and kissable, slightly glossy under the lights.

  Holy shit.

  Pure temptation right there.

  I leaned backwards in my chair, an emperor on his throne.

  “Sir?” Morgan bent down again, extending the tray toward me. “Can I offer you champagne and warm nuts?”

  I grinned, lifting the flute off the tray and taking a sip. Smooth with citrus accents. Velvety yet sharp at once. The alcohol would help me be patient with my newest toy.

  Suspecting nothing, Morgan set the bowl of nuts on a small side table at my elbow. And b
iting her lip, the girl straightened again, all the while holding the tray against her body, just under those magnificent breasts.

  “Sir, is there anything else I can get you?” she breathed.

  Why yes, sweetheart. Funny you’d ask. I waved my hand for her to come closer.

  The brunette looked about, her body trembling as she slid the tray onto an empty chair. And slowly, that plump form crouched so that her mouth was right about shoulder level with me.

  Absolutely perfect.

  “So, sweetheart, before we begin your first lesson,” I growled, taking a last sip of my champagne before settling it onto a side table. “Any final thoughts?”

  Morgan took a deep breath, her breasts shuddering. But that dulcet gaze grew firm with resolve, and even confidence. “No, Mr. Evans. I’m ready.”

  “Good,” was my pleased reply. But then her eyes darted away.

  “Sir,” she said in a soft voice. “I’m sorry, one last thing. I just want to make sure we use a condom? Because I’m not on the pill.”

  My mind screeched to a halt. What the fuck? My big form jerked upright with disbelief.

  “Helena didn’t get you started on birth control?”

  Morgan shook her head, her eyes downcast. Her lips puckered. “Well, sort of. I’m scheduled to see the doctor next week, so it’s going to happen. But we were too rushed for this flight. I was only hired recently.”

  What the fuck? Helena, of all the things to screw up? WTF?

  Because Elite Air stewardesses are required to be on birth control. I made that clear when discussing the criteria with the middle aged woman. I wanted someone plump, curvy, with a nice smile, a pretty face, and who was on birth control.

  What was the point of this otherwise? I’m a forty five year old alpha who’s never even been tempted to be married. Marriage is right for some guys, no judgment. It’s just not right for me. A woman hanging off my arm for life? Hell no. I’d rather freeze in a block of ice first. I nodded tightly, clenching my teeth. This wasn’t Morgan’s fault. Somehow, we had a breakdown in the process, and this is what happens.