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Billionaire's Pet — Christa Wick
From New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author Christa Wick
Billionaire CEO Griffin Montgomery thought he could buy the sexual submission of unemployed charity analyst Katelyn Willow without losing his heart.
He thought wrong.
**********
This 44,200+ word series collection is for readers who crave a dominating billionaire who wants more from his naïve pet than her body and obedience. He wants her heart -- even if he hasn't quite figured that out for himself! (Available separately as Billionaire's Pet 1-3)
**********
Forty five minutes later, flesh bumps lining her skin from the shower and barely there dress, Katelyn waited outside Montgomery's office door. The room was at the end of a long gallery. Across from the door stood a single chair and side table with a clock. Staring at the second hand as it audibly counted off the time, she wondered how many women had stood in the exact same spot for the exact same purpose.
Dozens, probably. The corners of her mouth dipped and she stared down the gallery. She could leave. The only penalty in the contract was forfeiting any right to the fifty thousand dollars. It sure as hell wasn't the money that had caused her to sign. She could scrape by until she found another job.
She had signed because, for that one short moment in time, his touch meant more than her own dignity. Only he wasn't touching her now, his need so little he had calmly walked away from her and stayed away for an hour while she had burned for him the entire time.
She took a step away from the door, then another. The handle twisted, the door quickly swinging inward. She froze, afraid to turn and meet his gaze.
“You're early.” He reached across her chest, grabbed her opposite shoulder and turned her toward the door before letting go.
“I was waiting to knock.”
“Don't lie, Kate. You're too easy to read.” Reaching out again, he touched the back of her neck with his fingers. Heat flowed from the tips to gently propel her into the room.
When she was inside, he closed the door and pointed at a tall, round pedestal table near the window. “Sit.”
Approaching the table, she saw that it had a small step attached to it. Her chest tightened as she thought again of all the women with whom he must have played a similar scene. She stopped in front of the table and stared at it, wondering if all the bottoms over all the years had left an impression.
From the direction of his desk, she heard Griffin sinking into his chair.
“Kate, my time is worth two-thousand-dollars a minute.”
She turned her head and looked at him, not quite glaring but as close as she dared. He lifted his brows, the perfect picture of a bored billionaire dealing with a tedious employee.
“Stop wasting it.”
Her cheeks colored, but she obeyed. Dropping her gaze, she put one foot down on the base. She stepped up, her hand smoothing down the back of the skirt to position it.
“Skirt up,” he ordered.
She pinched the hem, lifted, and sat down. Her ass touched the cold marble surface, provoking a gasp. The man was a fiend, had probably left a block of ice on it the whole hour she waited.
Recovering, she looked at him, expecting his attention to already be diverted. He rested his chin in the palm of one hand. His gaze leisurely traveled the line of her leg and she felt herself go hot and wet in a heartbeat.
“Now what?”
He flipped the screen on his laptop up and hit the power button. “You wait.”
Billionaire CEO Griffin Montgomery thought he could buy the sexual submission of unemployed charity analyst Katelyn Willow without losing his heart.
He thought wrong.
**********
This 44,200+ word series collection is for readers who crave a dominating billionaire who wants more from his naïve pet than her body and obedience. He wants her heart -- even if he hasn't quite figured that out for himself! (Available separately as Billionaire's Pet 1-3)
**********
Forty five minutes later, flesh bumps lining her skin from the shower and barely there dress, Katelyn waited outside Montgomery's office door. The room was at the end of a long gallery. Across from the door stood a single chair and side table with a clock. Staring at the second hand as it audibly counted off the time, she wondered how many women had stood in the exact same spot for the exact same purpose.
Dozens, probably. The corners of her mouth dipped and she stared down the gallery. She could leave. The only penalty in the contract was forfeiting any right to the fifty thousand dollars. It sure as hell wasn't the money that had caused her to sign. She could scrape by until she found another job.
She had signed because, for that one short moment in time, his touch meant more than her own dignity. Only he wasn't touching her now, his need so little he had calmly walked away from her and stayed away for an hour while she had burned for him the entire time.
She took a step away from the door, then another. The handle twisted, the door quickly swinging inward. She froze, afraid to turn and meet his gaze.
“You're early.” He reached across her chest, grabbed her opposite shoulder and turned her toward the door before letting go.
“I was waiting to knock.”
“Don't lie, Kate. You're too easy to read.” Reaching out again, he touched the back of her neck with his fingers. Heat flowed from the tips to gently propel her into the room.
When she was inside, he closed the door and pointed at a tall, round pedestal table near the window. “Sit.”
Approaching the table, she saw that it had a small step attached to it. Her chest tightened as she thought again of all the women with whom he must have played a similar scene. She stopped in front of the table and stared at it, wondering if all the bottoms over all the years had left an impression.
From the direction of his desk, she heard Griffin sinking into his chair.
“Kate, my time is worth two-thousand-dollars a minute.”
She turned her head and looked at him, not quite glaring but as close as she dared. He lifted his brows, the perfect picture of a bored billionaire dealing with a tedious employee.
“Stop wasting it.”
Her cheeks colored, but she obeyed. Dropping her gaze, she put one foot down on the base. She stepped up, her hand smoothing down the back of the skirt to position it.
“Skirt up,” he ordered.
She pinched the hem, lifted, and sat down. Her ass touched the cold marble surface, provoking a gasp. The man was a fiend, had probably left a block of ice on it the whole hour she waited.
Recovering, she looked at him, expecting his attention to already be diverted. He rested his chin in the palm of one hand. His gaze leisurely traveled the line of her leg and she felt herself go hot and wet in a heartbeat.
“Now what?”
He flipped the screen on his laptop up and hit the power button. “You wait.”
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