Billionaire's Seduction: BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE (Alpha Billionaire Romance Collection) (BBW Pregnancy Marriage of Convenience) (11 page)

By the time I made it down to the end of Idaho road, I had sweated clean through my cloths and was a dripping, stinking mess. The other reason I was breathing so hard was that I was walking underneath a 100 degree sun, and no matter how good of shape you are or aren’t in, that kind of heat was going to turn you inside out.

The Idaho came to an end at the face of a small mountain, and on the left of me was a plot of land surround by chain link and topped with barbed wire. From what I could see, there were four white trailers that looked to be gutted by fire and basically unlivable. On the right, there was a sprawling ranch style house circled by a wooden, cowboy style fence with a barn a few hundred yards away. With my recent luck, chances were that the post-apocalypse trailer park was where the GR was held up. But, just in case, I decided to check on the farmhouse first. At the very least I could maybe get a glass of water (Here’s a desert survival tip for you kids: Always bring water.) and sit inside in the air conditioning while I asked the folks living there if they’d ever heard of The Green Ruin.

I stumbled to the front door, my head going funny with black and white dots gathering at the corner of my vision. I rang the bell and it was answered by a pale redhead with a slender swimmers frame and a crown of daisies or some other flower. Oh, and she was completely naked. She smiled at me and I heard wind chimes tinkling serenely somewhere, and then I passed out.

I’ve never passed out before. I mean, I’ve passed out drunk before, but that was usually in my own bed, or on the couch while munching a 3 am burrito. And, of course, I’ve blacked out before, and what I mean by blacked out is one second I’ll be setting at the bar drinking shots with a nice secretary whose burning off the stress of the week by going on a Friday night bender, and then suddenly it’s three hours later and I’m standing in the middle of a midnight black Wriggly Field with my pants around my ankles and the secretary kneeling at my feet barfing into my underwear. (You can probably guess that wasn’t a proud moment for.) Ad, yes, I’ve been knocked out a couple of times before. But passed out from exhaustion and dehydration, that was a whole new experience for me, and it was more than a little scary.

I came to with a start, like my brain had suddenly been zapped back into being with a defibrillator. My eyes shot open and couldn’t focus, the world looking too bright and underwater. When I was finally able to focus, I noticed two things:

I was completely naked.

I had one of the most spectacular pair of naked breasts  were hanging gloriously in my face.                                       

“I think he’s awake!”

I sat up and stared down at my naked body and was slightly embarrassed that my penis was standing at full mast, and that the set of breast I woke up to was only one of dozens crowding the room I was lying down in.

I felt myself flush and I tried to cover myself with my hands, but the sleek young blonde with the spectacular rack I woke up to stopped me.

“Don’t be embarrassed, it’s just your body, and the body does what it wants.”

She reached down and gripped me gently, her thumb rubbing in circles.

“We should always succumb to the will of the body.”

She giggled along with the other women in the room and then climbed on top of me with a slight gasp.

“Where am I?” I asked.

“You’re in the sanctuary of the Green Ruin,” she breathed. “And you are home.”

And I passed out from exhaustion again.

The difference this time was that it happened after a few hours as one gorgeous woman after another laid down with me and told me about the wonders of the Green Ruin. Sometimes it was just one, gripping me tight, licking the sweat off my neck, and at other times, it was two or three doing the same thing but not just to me, but each other. It was all a blur of tangled bodies, moans, and the dull ache of pleasure experienced over and over again.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m no slouch in the bedroom, but usually when I’m with a woman, I’m good to go one or maybe two times tops. But these women of The Green Ruin were putting me through the paces. They were reviving me with their every touch and I was insatiable. It was a pretty great feeling.

When I woke again it was pitch black and I could feel bodies stirring around me. I shook awake the one closest to me.

“What time is it?” I asked, not knowing if she was awake or not.

“What?” she asked, her voice bubbling with sleep.

“What time is it?”

The girl sat up and I could see her head move from side-to-side trying to figure out exactly where she was.

“Oh no! It’s night! We’re going to miss the ritual!”

“What?” I asked.

“The ritual! We have to get going!”

Suddenly the room was filled with light and six women began stretching and searching the room like they were looking for something to put on. But as far as I could tell, there wasn’t a stitch of clothing to be had in the room for the exception of a sodden looking sheet pushed to the end of the mattress we were all on.

“Where are my shoes?”

“They’re not in here! Remember, we left them at the front door.”

“Come on, we have to hurry!

Most of the women rushed out the door, all but the blonde I had first met when I woke up from my unintentional nap and who I had apparently woken up.

She stared at me and smiled.

“We need to get going.” She said while running her fingers through my stiff, sweat greasy hair.

“Where do we need to go?” I asked.

“We have to go see Rick for the nightly ritual.”

“Who’s Rick?”

Her smiled broadened and she blushed.

“Rick channels the Green Ruin, he was sent here to save us. If you want to stay, you should probably come and meet him.”

She stood up holding my hand and led me to my feet.

“I would love it if you stayed. You were sent here for a reason, I know it in my soul.”

She leaned in and kissed me. It was gentle and soft, welcoming.

“I want to stay.” I said, almost in a trance.

“Good, then come and meet Rick.”

She led me out of the room and through the house. It was stark with barely any furniture except for mattresses littering the floor. We came to the door I had apparently passed out at, and there were my clothes piled in a sweaty heap of stink.

I moved to put on my pants, but the blonde stopped me.

“You won’t need those to meet Rick. Just put on your boots.”

“But … um … ya know.” I stared down at my naked body and motioned with my hand indicating my nakedness. She laughed.

“It’s not like he hasn’t seen one of those before! So come on.”

I slid my feet into the work boot with out any socks and tightened the laces. I felt ridiculous, like a bashful little five-year-old kid running around in big boy shoes and nothing else. The girl had slipped into a pair of sandals and she took me by the hand and led me out into the dark.

Let me tell you a little bit about being out in the middle of the desert at night. If you ever want to feel small and insignificant, try going out to the desert and staring up at the black, cloudless sky. There’s this kind of moment of awe that takes your breath away for a second with the infiniteness of it. You realize you’re nothing more than a small piece of one of those silver specks up there staring back at you, and that maybe there’s someone up there in all that emptiness whose doing the exact thing that you’re doing right at that moment, but millions of miles away. But then you snap back into reality and just it just scares the crap out of you.

The girl tugged at my arm.

“It’s this way.”

She led me through the dark sure footed and confident, like she’d walked down this path a million times before, which I’m sure she had. In the distance I could hear the sounds of drums and singing and see the flicker of campfires. Within a few minutes, we came to a clearing lit by fire light. There was maybe fifty people there, all of them naked, and from what I could tell, most of them women. There were maybe a dozen men total and most of them were thumping on hand drums, their heads swaying to the beat. Most of the women danced, their arms flailing, their sandaled feet kicking up dust. A few that I recognized from the house and who had helped cause my second black out huddle together near the fires, stroking each others arms, kissing, holding one another. It was so much to take in that my head was spinning.

Suddenly, the drums and the dancing stopped as a large man followed by two older women carrying stone bowls entered the center of the clearing.

The blonde leaned into me and whispered, “That’s Rick. Isn’t he beautiful?”

I couldn’t exactly say that he was. You know, I can’t say that I’m a good judge of male beauty. I mean, I know when a guy is good looking. When I seen some hotshot actor like Brad Pitt, you can’t help but acknowledge that he’s a good looking dude. But being a heterosexual male, I’m not a good judge of just normal looking guys, and that’s really only how I could judge Rick, he was just a normal looking guy. And what I mean by normal looking, he fit the description of the average looking American white male to a tee. He looked to be in his late 20’s and was maybe 5’8 with thinning brownish hair and an adolescent, wispy looking beard. He wasn’t fat, but I would definitely describe him as chunky with a prominent belly hanging slightly over his waistline.

This was the other thing that set him apart from the group, he was wearing clothes. He had a lose fitting black Nirvana t-shirt on and a pair of track shorts. The women with the bowls also had clothes on. They both looked to be in their late 40’s and wore white flowing dresses, their expressions steely, their eyes scanning the crowd to see if they could catch anyone talking or continuing to dance.

Rick raised his flabby arms and the two older women broke away from them and began to circulate through the crowd, offering what was ever in the bowl as they went along.

“We’re taught from the time we are born to the time that we die that we came into this world alone and that we’ll die alone!” His voice was like thunder. I always thought that expression was bullshit because I’ve never heard anyone speak like that, but I’ll tell you, it was the perfect way to describe Rick’s voice. It BOOMED and sent a shiver down your spine.

“But I’m here to tell you that this is a lie! We are never alone and never will be! We are of one body! Of one mind! And we are all of single mother even after we’ve turned to dust!”

One of the clothed women stepped in front of me and the girl and offered the bowl. Her hair was jet black and she had the athletic frame of a lifelong runner. I felt her dark eyes scan my body as she offered the bowl, secretively smiling as she appraised me.

“Partake of the sacrament.” she said.

“Go ahead and take a piece.” The blonde said to me and I tentatively reached into the bowl and picked a hard, round shape. I held it up to my eyes to get a better look in the light. It was a marble sized chunk of the drug.

“Go ahead and eat it.” said the blonde.

I’m not a drug guy. Sure, I’ve smoked my fair share of pot and I’ve done a few lines of blow, but usually I’ve been drinking when I’ve done it and my inhibitions were out the door. But every time I’ve done it, it always makes me feel way worse the next morning, like I have two hangovers making me feel like a human garbage dump. But, you know, when in Rome and all that jazz. I put the chuck of drug in my mouth.

“Now just suck on it.” The blonde then leaned in and kissed me and then took her own green marble and put it in her mouth.

The drug was cloyingly sweet, like mint mixed with cinnamon, but with a slip metallic tang that made me want to spit it out. I sucked it though and just let rest in my cheek. I leaned into the blonde and whispered.

“I don’t know why haven’t asked, but what’s your name?”

“It doesn’t matter because we’re all one,” she said while lightly stroking my cheek. “But my name is Ila.”

No, it couldn’t be. No freaking way.

“And tonight, as we do every night, we will re-teach ourselves that we are one!” Rick continued as he stripped off his shirt. “And that our spirt is unbreakable!”

As Ila—who I was pretty sure was Ila Stills— continued stroking my face, the world started to go funny. The air started to feel fluid, like the air was being replaced with water and going a cloudy shade of green. Her hands started to move up and down my chest and she was smiling so broadly that it seemed like half her face was composed of nothing but brilliant perfect white teeth, and I could feel her smile spreading to me as something hitched inside my chest and I felt a laugh bubbling up my throat.

“Tonight! Tonight we will once again go into the green and ruin all that was taught to us!” And with this, Rick slipped off his soccer shorts and was enveloped by three young women. At the time, I didn’t know if it was the drug or not, but before Rick became a tangle of limbs, I saw why Ila thought Rick was so beautiful, because this pudgy, kind of dumpy looking guy had the longest, thickest penis I had ever seen.

But it really didn’t matter, because before I knew it, I became nothing more than a braying hyena who wanted to do nothing more than screw as many women—or men—as I could get my hands on.