Read Hot Billionaire Sex Online

Authors: Honey Taylor

Hot Billionaire Sex (9 page)

 

“Can’t you just stay in Hong Kong with me,” he gasped when he got his breath back.

 

Candice laughed. “No, I have my job to do as well and in a few hours I will be on a jet heading home.”

“Will I see you in two weeks?” he asked.

 

“Not sure,” said Candice. “It just depends on the schedules whether I will be working your flight back home.” She laughed as Marcus groaned. “I’ll see what I can do to get on your return flight, but can’t make any promises,” she said. “Let me go, I want to have a shower.”

 

The billionaire reached for the tie around her wrists and released it. Candice saw the red marks on her skin and rubbed at them then stood from the bed to walk towards the bathroom. She got in the shower and set the water as hot as she could take it, feeling the enjoyment again as it cascaded over her body. The feeling was nice. The sudden sound of the shower door opening made her turn and she saw the naked form of Marcus step in beside her.

 

“What time are you flying home,” he asked.

 

“I meet up with my colleagues in around six hours,” she replied. She felt the arms wrap around her and draw her into a tight embrace.

 

“So we can shower, grab a little sleep and …, “ said Marcus.

 

“… and what?” laughed Candice.

 

“Oh I don’t know,” Marcus went on. “I’m sure we will think of something when we wake up.”

 

Candice laughed louder. “You’re insatiable,” she teased, but as she was drawn into a passionate kiss she knew that when they woke that she might find herself tied up and used yet again. Bring it on, she thought and when the kiss broke grinned at the billionaire.

 

Seduced by the Billionaire Bar Owner

 

“So do we have a deal then?” Stacey asked. She picked up her coffee from the table and took a sip as the man opposite sat considering. Her nervousness increased, but she tried to disguise it as she waited for an answer.

 

“I think we can work together,” Barry finally said and held out his hand across the restaurant table.

 

Stacey silently whooped, but tried to keep her face calm and not give too much of her emotions away as she reached out to shake the proffered hand. A contract with Barry Cooper’s architecture company would hopefully put her business on a firmer footing and she’d been chasing it for at least six months. Finally shaking hands on a deal was a tremendous thrill as well as a relief. Her decision to break away from her former company and set up her own interior design business seemed to be coming together and suddenly Stacey couldn’t keep the enthusiasm from showing in her voice. “I promise you won’t regret this Barry,” she said.

 

“I better not,” he said with a smile and took a sip of his coffee. “Come around to my office on Thursday afternoon at two and we can start working out the fine details. I’ll get the contract finalized and then when it is signed we can take it from there.”

 

“Sure,” said Stacey. She lifted her coffee to finish it and saw that Barry was already putting his empty cup on the table. Looking around, she raised her hand to catch the attention of a nearby waiter and when he stepped up to the table asked for the bill. “This one is on me,” she said as the waiter returned and put a small silver tray on the table. Stacey lifted the bill to check the damage and put down enough money to cover the cost of the meal and a tip. “This place is supposed to have a decent bar,” she went on. “How about we have a drink to seal the deal?”

 

Barry looked at his watch and saw that it was coming up to ten in the evening. “Sorry, no can do,” he answered. “I promised my wife I would be back home by around ten. Let’s say we save the drink until the contract is signed.”

 

“OK,” said Stacey. She stood and put on her jacket and when Barry did the same they walked to the exit and left the restaurant. As they stepped onto the sidewalk a taxi pulled up in front of the restaurant and a couple got out. “You take this one if you need to get home,” she said.

 

“Are you sure you don’t want to share?” asked Barry.

 

“No, we live in completely opposite directions,” she replied. “There’s a taxi rank around the corner. It’s easy enough for me to catch one there.”

 

“OK,” he said. “See you on Thursday.” He jumped into the back of the cab and Stacey watched as it pulled away from the curb and joined the traffic. “Yes,” she exclaimed as the cab disappeared from sight and couldn’t help pumping her fist. She grinned as she looked around to see if anyone had caught sight of her, but saw she was standing alone. The thrill of finally sealing a deal put her on a high and her mind started to race. She was about to head in the direction of the taxi rank when she suddenly changed her mind. Walking back inside the restaurant, she headed for the bar and decided that she would have a celebratory drink before heading home.

 

The bar was quiet and Stacy couldn’t resist stopping to look around first, her critical designer eye not all that impressed with the appearance of the place. She moved across to the long counter and ordered a glass of wine then took it to a table and sat down to think. The deal would hopefully bring plenty of work her way, with the company she was signing with being one of the biggest architectural businesses in town. From what she knew about them they were involved in plenty of projects from smaller residential properties to larger commercial buildings and she wondered just what kind of work she would get involved with. The smile grew on her face as she drank her wine and mulled over her success. Stacey finally finished the drink and was about to get up when a waiter stepped up to her table and put down another glass of wine.

 

“Sorry, you must have the wrong table,” Stacey said as she looked up. “I didn’t order another drink.”

 

“It’s already paid for,” the waiter said.

 

Stacey frowned. “By whom,” she went on.

 

“The gentleman at the bar,” the waiter went on and turned to point out the man that had sent the drink across. Stacey looked in the direction he was pointing and saw a man lift his hand in greeting. Getting drinks sent to her table wasn’t exactly a normal occurrence, although it had happened in the past. Stacey generally politely declined, but the high she was on and the handsome appearance of the man made her consider the offer. She thought of Barry going home to his wife and the empty apartment waiting for her and finally decided to accept. The waiter moved away and Stacey picked up the glass of wine and walked across to sit beside the man at the bar.

 

“I hope you don’t mind me intruding,” he started. “You just looked so happy it seemed a shame you were celebrating on your own. I don’t normally send drinks to single women.”

 

“Uh huh,” she laughed. “I believe you, but thanks for the drink anyway. I’m Stacey Hunter.” She lifted the glass to clink it against the man’s and took a sip of her wine. He was even handsomer close up, the creases around his dark brown eyes deepening as he smiled in her direction and then lifted his drink to take a sip. His dark hair was tinged with a little grey at the sides, but it only added to his appeal and the open necked shirt he was wearing showed a hint of the muscular physique below. Stacey guessed he was likely in his early forties, probably around ten to twelve years older than her. She returned the smile and felt a flicker of attraction as he fixed his gaze on her.

 

“Ethan Walker,” he said and held out his hand. “So I guessed right?” he quickly went on. “The smile on your face was for a celebration.”

 

Stacey felt the flicker of attraction grow as she took the hand and Ethan held on for just a little longer than was really necessary. She finally pulled her hand free. “I just clinched what should be a great deal for my business,” she said. “So yeah, the drink was a bit of a celebration of my success.”

 

“Congratulations,” Ethan said. “Where’s the client?”

 

“His wife took priority over me,” she answered. “He needed to get home.”

 

“No offense, but good for him,” Ethan said. “Love should always come before business.”

 

Stacey laughed. “I thought that was a woman’s attitude and that men considered business first and love second.”

 

Ethan shrugged and grinned. “Well I think your client showed that isn’t quite true all the time. What business are you in?”

 

“Interior design,” Stacey went on. “I quit my job around a year ago and set up on my own. It’s been a bit of a struggle, but this deal should put me on a solid footing to hopefully grow the business.”

 

“Ah…, so you’re a style guru,” Ethan went on. “Do you ever relax or is your gaze always appraising your surroundings.”

 

Stacey laughed. “I am a bit like that I guess. Sometimes it’s difficult to switch off. When I first came in here I stopped to look around before I even thought of ordering a drink.”

 

“And what was your opinion of the place?” he asked.

 

Stacey lowered her voice. “Hmm…, not all that impressed to be honest. I just enjoyed a meal in the restaurant and it looks pretty up-market and classy. This place doesn’t really reflect that.”

 

“The bar is too down market?” Ethan asked.

 

“For me, yes,” she answered. “I would say the owner didn’t put enough thought into the design. It’s like they lacked any ideas other than the most basic bar appearance.”

 

“Like what for instance?” Ethan asked.

 

Stacey nodded towards the mirrored back wall behind the bar. “For a start that mirror look is so out of date these days,” she said. “It doesn’t really work for me. I think the stools and tables look a little dated and worn too.” She cast her eyes around the walls and floor before turning her gaze back to Ethan. “The colors are just way too dark as well and it makes the place appear dingy to be honest. It looks like the owner put all the effort into the restaurant and didn’t bother about the bar. It really needs freshened up and modernized to make it less down market and bring it more in line with the look of the restaurant.” Stacey looked around again. “I heard the bar was good, but from what I see I won’t be making any effort to come back. The place isn’t exactly overflowing with customers, so I guess I’m not the only one that thinks that way.”

 

“So in a nutshell you basically think the bar is down market, dingy, out of date and that the owner has no ideas or taste when it comes to interior design,” laughed Ethan.

 

“Well I wouldn’t exactly say that to the owner’s face…” Stacey began, but she didn’t need to finish the sentence to show that she agreed with the comments. “So what about you,” she asked, “what do you do for a living?”

 

Ethan was about to answer when the barman stepped up to where they were sitting. “Sorry to interrupt boss,” he said. “There’s a call for you.”

 

Stacey watched, a frown creasing her brow, as Ethan took the phone that was placed on the counter in front of him. She felt her embarrassment rising as she listened to his conversation about drink stocks for the bar and realized that the man she was talking too wasn’t just another customer enjoying a nightcap. Her eyes narrowed as he put down the phone. “Boss?” she queried. “Are you the manager of this place?”

 

“Umm…, I guess I should confess that I’m actually the owner of the bar,” Ethan said.

 

“Jeez,” Stacey complained. “You could have at least told me before I trashed the design of your place and said you were clueless and had no taste.” She could feel her face reddening as she thought of what she said and the embarrassment really took hold.

 

Ethan held up his hands. “I’m really sorry,” he went on. “I guess I should have said something, but once you started, I really wanted to hear your opinions. If you knew I was the owner I suspect you might have sugar coated your views and not been quite as honest.”

 

Stacey felt the burning of her cheeks and suddenly couldn’t meet the bar owners gaze. “You still could have told me,” she said, “so that I didn’t make such a fool of myself.”

 

“You didn’t make a fool of yourself,” Ethan insisted. “To be honest if interior design is what you do for a living I guess I should really listen to what you say. I sort of wondered why the number of diners in the restaurant didn’t translate into more drinkers in the bar. Well now I guess I know. Unfortunately that phone call means I have to go and sort a few things out. Would you be willing to come back and point out the flaws of the bar in more detail and what I can do to improve them? I really would appreciate it and I promise no more surprises in future.”

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