Billionaire Romance: Spencer's Obsession (A Seductive Alpha Billionaire Romance Book 1) (6 page)

              “Alright, sweetheart. Come on,” he said as he took me by the hand and led me further into the room. He stopped abruptly and let go of my hand. “Now take off your dress,” he commanded.

              A feeling of confusion came over me and I felt vulnerable. I wasn't sure that I could do this—be who he wanted or expected me to be. “I..I..Spencer, I don't...” I stammered.

              But before I could even finish my sentence he cut me off, “Take. Off. Your. Dress. Right now!” His voice didn't sound very playful, in fact, it sounded quite harsh. Why was he acting this way?

              I just had to remind myself that Spencer would never hurt me and after all, this was the job that I signed up for. He had warned me that this was what he needed from me. I swallowed the lump in my throat and slowly moved my hands to the zipper of my dress. It took me a few tries to unzip it because my hands were so shaky, but I finally managed.

              “Good. Now take it off. All the way,” he snapped.

              My lip quivered and I bit it to keep from crying. I slowly removed my left arm and then my right from my dress, letting it fall down to my waist before shimmying out of it completely, leaving it in a pool at my feet.

              He let out an audible gasp at the sight of me, causing me to fidget and cross my arms to try and cover up as much of my body as I could. In an act of foolish bravery, I had opted to not wear a bra or panties underneath my dress as a surprise, but now, standing here blindfolded in front of him in this unfamiliar room in only my stilettos, I felt ashamed and exposed.

              Spencer walked over to me and his hands were suddenly on mine. “No, no. You don't get to cover yourself up, you dirty little slut. I want to see you. Every inch,” he admired, pulling my hands away from my body. “There we go, sweetheart,” he cooed.

              I could feel his breath on my skin, hot and wanting, moving over every inch of my body. In a way, I felt empowered and invigorated. This was a feeling I had never known and part of me welcomed it.

              My body was his and he knew it, knew there was nothing that I could do about it, even if I wanted to. I could tell that the sense of power turned him on and I felt his breath run over my neck, grazing gently with his lips.

              I moaned softly under his touch and I could feel his lips contort into a smile against my breast, revealing his sharp teeth as he took my erect nipple into the warmth of his mouth. “Mmm,” I breathed as I ran my fingers through his hair, causing him to bury his face even deeper into my chest. He continued to suck and lick both of my nipples, giving them equal attention, when suddenly I felt his long fingers caressing my wet slit. “Oooh, yes!” I gasped, unable to control myself as I writhed my wet bare mound against his fingers.

              I could feel him grin as he pulled his head away from my chest, “You like that, baby?” he asked and I shook my head yes, biting my lower lip in embarrassment. “Mm. I thought so. No need to be embarrassed. It's okay to feel good,” he said then he pulled his fingers away, leaving me wanting more.

              “But now it's my turn. Bend over you little slut,” he commanded as he spun me around and shoved me face first, down onto what felt like a glass table—much like the one that I sat at during my interview. The coldness of the glass against my cheek took me by surprise and I gasped at the sensation. Spencer laughed, “I want to make good use of that wet slit of yours.”

              I felt the head of his cock probing the entrance to my hole, then suddenly it was deep inside of me with no room to spare. I let out a cry of pain mixed with pleasure as he shoved it deeper and deeper until I felt like I was about to be ripped in half. Spencer leaned down and whispered in my ear, “I know you love it, you little slut. Don't you?” I winced in pain, but he insisted, “Tell me that you love it when I fuck you.”

              He pulled my hair back so hard that my face came off the table as he rammed himself inside of me, using my hair as leverage to shove his cock deeper. “I love it when you fuck me,” I cried, gasping for air—and in that moment I was telling the truth. Every thrust massaged me deep inside, in all the right places and I couldn't help but match his movements with a counter-thrust. This seemed to get him worked up because he started panting and moaning, “Yes, baby. Mmm. I know you love it when I fuck you. And I'm going to shoot my load up inside your tight little pussy and there's nothing you can do about it,” he panted as he kissed the back of my neck.

              “Oooh, Spencer. Yes! Please. I want it so bad,” I squealed with pleasure as he pumped his cock deep inside of me. And then before I could say or do anything else, with one final thrust, he let all of himself go. I felt the hot load dripping down around his cock, overflowing at my entrance and then suddenly he pulled out and I could hear him gathering his clothes, getting himself dressed again.

              “Don't move,” he commanded gruffly.

              “Okay,” I laughed nervously and bit my lip, “That was amazing, Spencer.”

              “Yeah, I didn't mind it,” he said dismissively. “Keep your blindfold on. I’ve got another surprise for you.”

              “What kind of surprise?” I asked, still lying over the table with my ass up in the air. “I mean, honestly I expected our first time to be a bit more..romantic, but that...well, it wasn't disappointing,” I giggled.

              All of a sudden I heard him walk over to the door and open it, then heard it shut behind him.

              “Spencer...?” I called out. No response. “Hello?” I waited for him to come back since he said he had another surprise for me, but after ten minutes I started to get worried. I took the blindfold off and noticed immediately that the room we were in was completely dark except for a lamp in the corner. I looked around and didn't see any of his things, so I got dressed again and went out into the hallway to see if I could find him.

              “Spencer,” I called out, but there was no response—just unsettling silence. I went back into the abandoned office room that we had just done the deed in and grabbed my handbag off the floor. I decided to make my way back to the end of the hall to see if he was in his office.

              I tried opening his office door, but it was locked.
What in the world?
I thought to myself.
He was literally just here.

              I pulled my work cellphone out of my purse to try and call him and that's when I saw the notifications on the screen:
2 missed calls—Spencer, 1 voicemail.
What? I checked the call log and sure enough Spencer had called me twice: once at 7:30 a.m. and again at 7:36 a.m. Finally, he left me a voicemail at 7:45 a.m.

             
I pressed play and listened:
“Hey dear, it's Spencer. I just wanted to let you know that I've had a shareholder emergency come up and I've got to make a last minute flight to NYC. I hope you're not too mad at me and that you get this in time. Anyway…no work today, okay? Just enjoy your day and we'll pick up where we left off as soon as I get back. I promise I'll make it up to you. Text or call when you get this so I know that everything's okay. Alright, talk to you soon, then.”

              My stomach did a flip and a wave of nausea suddenly came over me. If Spencer was on a flight to NYC...then who the
fuck
did I just sleep with?

              I drove back home as fast I could. My only goal was to get as far away as possible from whoever
that
was. To say the least, the whole experience was completely unnerving and I found it hard to concentrate on anything besides the fear and anxiety I was feeling. I felt so betrayed and vulnerable and I had no idea what I was going to tell Spencer—I didn't even know
who
had done this to me.

              Was it one of his employees? Had he hired someone to play a sick joke on me?

              I shivered at the thought and refused to believe that he could do such a thing. I mean, yeah, he had no problem paying for sex, but I just couldn't imagine Spencer setting me up to get manhandled by someone
else
. After all, he seemed quite possessive and I couldn't envision him being turned on by someone else having their way with me: I was his.

              I didn’t feel safe again until I pulled into the garage back at home. As soon as I put the car in park I collapsed forward over the steering wheel and completely broke down, loud gasping sobs escaping my lips. I felt so confused and ashamed about what I'd done and I couldn't hold it back any longer. I just felt so emotionally and mentally drained from the whole experience and all I wanted to do was curl up in a ball and hide under my comforter, so I wiped my eyes and pulled myself together enough to slink to my bedroom.

              I undressed completely and then crawled into my cozy cocoon of a bed, pulling my comforter and sheets up around me as tight as I could. I knew Spencer would be mad at me for what I'd done so I put off calling him and instead  I cried myself to sleep.

*****

              I awoke several hours later to the sound of my cell phone vibrating on my bedroom floor.

              I leaned as far over the edge of my bed as I could, struggling to reach for it. Finally, after a few failed attempts I was able to latch onto it and pull myself back up onto the bed.
Laziness for the win,
I thought to myself and smiled victoriously. My smile quickly faded, however, when I saw who was calling. “Spencer,” I groaned to myself.

              Before I could talk myself out of it, I answered the phone. “Hello?” I asked, like I didn't know who was on the other end.
Seriously, Emily?
I blushed at my stupidity.

              “Hey! It's Spencer. Is everything okay? I was starting to get a little worried when I didn't hear from you...” he said, his voice expressing genuine concern.

              “Uhm. Yeah, everything's good here...I just, I guess I fell back asleep after I got your message. I'm sorry,” I lied, hoping he couldn't hear the guilt and worry in my voice.

              “It's okay, sleepyhead,” he teased. “I was just hoping I caught you in time before you made it all the way to the office this morning. So you got my message beforehand?” he asked, worried.

              “Oh. Yeah...thanks for the heads-up. I was running a little late anyhow and luckily I saw you had called before I left.”

              “Well, the reason I'm calling—I mean, besides being worried about you—is that I would love to take you out to dinner tonight. To make up for this fiasco,” he admitted, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

              My heart sank. I wasn't sure that I was ready to face him after what had happened this morning and I definitely wasn't ready to explain it all—if ever. How was I going to pretend that everything was okay? Spencer was bound to see right through my lies and I was afraid of what would happen if and when he did. Although, I guessed being out in public when he found out would be the best case scenario. Surely he wouldn't kill me in front of other people. 

              “Emily Anne? You have to say yes. I won't accept no for an answer,” he said sternly, sending shivers throughout my body and causing me to blush.

              “Uhm. Okay, I guess so. But I mean, really, I'm fine. I promise. You don't have to take me out to dinner,” I insisted.

              “I know. But I want to. I’d just really like to see you. Basically, I'm just using all this as an excuse to spend some time with you,” he admitted, I could hear the smile in his voice.

              I laughed softly, forgetting for a moment why I wanted to avoid him. “Okay,” I said before I could think about the consequences.

              “Great!” he beamed. “I'll pick you up at 7 sharp. How's that sound?”

              “That's fine. Wait...you'll be back in time?” I glanced at the clock. It was already after 2 p.m.

              He laughed, “Yes. I'm about to get on the return flight back to LA in a few. There's this new invention called an airplane. It allows us to travel through the air at miraculous speeds,” he teased.

              “Ha. Ha,” I said, dryly. But I secretly smiled to myself because I enjoyed his teasing.

              “Alright, doll. They're motioning for me to wrap it up. We're about to take off, here. Oh, before I go, though, be sure to wear something black tie appropriate for dinner tonight, okay?”

              “Oh. Okay. No problem,” I lied again. I didn't own anything that could even remotely be considered black tie. Hopefully Bridget would lend me something of hers—she had plenty of fancy gowns and dresses.

              “I'll see you at 7, Miss Emily Anne,” he said.

              “Okay. Be safe on your return flight,” I replied, smiling to myself.

              “Always. I’ll see you soon,” he said warmly and then hung up the phone.

             
I sighed and clutched the phone to my chest.
Oh, Spencer Ford. You will be the death of me,
I thought to myself.

*****

              A few hours later, around 4:30, I heard Bridget come in through the garage door.
Oh, thank God, my prayers have been answered,
I thought to myself as I jumped up off the couch. I had been watching a
Real World
marathon to distract me since I didn't have anything better to do, except pray that Bridget would be home in time for me to raid her closet. And if I was being truly honest, it gave me the creeps to be in the house alone, especially after what had happened this morning.

              “Bridge, you're home,” I squealed, as I threw my arms around her neck and hugged her tightly. “I'm so glad to see you.”

              “Wow, Em. I'm glad to see you, too. But what's going on? I know something's up,” she said, eyeing me warily.

              “Well, my dearest friend...I have a favor to ask of you,” I admitted, grinning from ear to ear as I followed her to her bedroom.

              “Oh Lord. Do I dare ask what it is?” she laughed as she sat down on her bed.

              “Okay, so...Spencer may have invited me out to dinner with him,” I admitted.

              “Seriously? That's amazing. What's the problem?” she asked, confused.

              “Weeell...he said I needed to wear something formal, as in...black tie. And you know as well as I do that I don't have a single piece of clothing that fits that bill,” I explained.

              “Yaaaaay! I'm so excited. It's dress-up time,” she sang, clapping her hands giddily, jumping up from the bed.

              I rolled my eyes. “I'm so thankful that you enjoy all of this so much. I don't know what I'd do without you,” I replied, honestly.

              “Of course. So, what time is Spencer picking you up, anyway? I need to know how much time I’ve got here to work a miracle.”

              “Seven,” I admitted, wrinkling my nose in anticipation of her response.

              “Oh my gosh, Em! That's super soon,” she looked worried and immediately sprung into action. “We'll manage. I'll just have to work a little—okay,
a lot
—of my magic,” she laughed as she skipped over to her walk-in closet and started combing through all of her gowns.

              Over the next few hours, I left all of the decisions and details up to Bridget because I was too nervous to offer my input—in part because I didn't trust my fashion sense and also because I was trying to pull myself together mentally for the evening to come. So, I sat there in silence as Bridget transformed my hair and makeup. Which, let's face it, definitely was part magic when it came to fixing me up.

              “Is everything okay, Em?” she asked with concern in her voice as she curled the last section of my hair into a perfectly bouncy, beautiful curl. I could see her out of the corner of my eye in the mirror, trying to read my face.

              “Yeah, of course,” I feigned a smile. “I'm just a little nervous is all.”

              “If you say so. But I know you, and I feel like there's something more to all of this,” she pried, giving me stern and motherly look. “Wait, why were you home so early today?” she asked. “I didn't think you got off until after five.”

              I bit my lip. “Spencer had to go to New York this morning for some kind of emergency meeting with a few of the company's shareholders. So he gave me the day off. That's kind of what this dinner is all about,” I explained, hoping it was enough information to deter Bridget from asking anymore questions. As far as Bridget knew, Spencer was just my boss who had a crush on me. She didn't know anything about our little sexual contract and I sure as hell didn't want her to know anything about what had happened to me earlier at the office. Yes, we were best friends, but there were still certain things that I liked to keep private—especially when it came to my sex life.

              “Alright, then. If you say so,” she said, letting out an exasperated breath. I could tell she didn't quite buy my explanation, but she dropped the subject anyway and focused back on my appearance. “So, what do you think, chica?” she asked expectantly, stepping out of the way of the mirror.

              I gasped with surprise, “Oh, Bridge! I look so beautiful.” I was overcome with emotion at how amazing she'd made me look. “You are amazing,” I decided.

              She giggled, but I could tell it made her feel good to hear that. This was, after all, her passion. God knows I would have never been able to pull myself together like this without her help. “Thank you so so much. I really mean it,” I looked at her with tears in my eyes.

              “Aww, Em. Don't you dare cry and mess up your makeup,” she joked, but I knew she was more serious than she let on. “I'm glad you like it. Now let's get your dress on. I'm sure Spencer will be here any minute.” She had barely finished her sentence before the doorbell rang.

              I looked at the clock and then looked at Bridget, feeling panicked. It was seven o’clock exactly and Spencer was right on time. I rolled my eyes at how typically girly this was: the man showing up at the agreed upon time, only to discover his date is not yet ready. I groaned to myself.

              “It's fine. I'll get the door and keep him entertained. You just finish getting dressed and come down when you're ready, okay?” Then, when she saw the nervousness in my eyes she said, “Just yell if you need me.”

              I nodded weakly as I stood there in the middle of Bridget's bedroom floor, naked except for my extra sexy panties that I reserved for special romantic occasions. I had a matching bra, but Bridget told me I wouldn't need it because the dress she had picked required me to go bra-less. Normally I wouldn't mind, because bras are the bane of my existence, but after what had happened today I felt more vulnerable than usual.

              Bridget slipped out the door to her bedroom and I could hear her making her stomping down the steps, trying to get to the door before the bell rang for a second time. I stared at myself in Bridget's full length mirror and felt sick to my stomach. How was I going to pull this off? If I could barely keep it together in front of Bridget, how would I be able to do so under Spencer's scrutiny? Didn't he deserve the truth? After all, I had already broken his trust once before by not telling him about John. Hadn’t I learned my lesson? Besides, if he forgave me for that, maybe he would understand this, too.

             
Yes,
I decided,
I will tell Spencer the truth.
I walked over to Bridget's king size sleigh bed and picked up the champagne colored lace gown she had chosen for me. It was absolutely breathtaking and must have cost a fortune—certainly not something I would have been able to afford.

              I carefully stepped into the lengthy gown, taking measures to avoid snagging its delicate fabric and then zipped it up the side. Thankfully it was easier to put on than it looked and I was able to do it all on my own without having to cause a scene.

              I slipped on my high heels and walked over to the mirror to admire myself.
Oh my goodness.
I couldn't believe how gorgeous I looked—fancy surprisingly suited me. I examined every detail of the dress: from its perfect and delicate lace latticework over the shoulders with its lacy deep v, to the frothy chiffon layers of its skirt. I felt transformed and although I'd never worn a cut-out, virtually backless dress, I actually didn't mind it. In fact, I looked pretty hot, I decided as I tiptoed my way out Bridget's bedroom door.
Here we go,
I thought to myself as I stepped down onto the top step and took a deep breath. I only hoped Spencer would understand.