Forbidden To Say No - The Billionaire's Plaything (An Erotic Romance Novel) (19 page)

"Danjel" I say to myself out loud, finding the flimsy cotton top, kindly donated after our session together inside the armoire, lightly stained with paint. Holding it up to my face, I bury my nose and cheeks within it, inhaling from it, trying to remind myself of that night. Smells and memories come back to me, and another surge of pain from within my wrists jolts me upright. Maybe he was trying to tell me something by painting his name upon me like that. Of all the things that Daniel Grant - the imposter and the undeserving heir - owns in that name, maybe he just wanted something to own in his real name:
me
.

Like divine intervention, I'm startled from my mindless imagination by a buzzing vibration in my pocket, and the tuneless chords of a ring tone.
That number
, it's him!

"Hello!"

"Chloe, how are you?"

That voice seems to envelope me, warming the coldest reaches of my body. A controlled monotone, yet a monotone that I know is capable of so much more.

"Good, thank you Daniel."

"You did good today. Well done."

I'd almost forgotten about the audition. A movie role seems to be the least important thing on my mind.

"Oh, good. I'm glad." I pause, feeling it on the tip of my tongue. I gulp, hold my breath, and take the dive; "can I see you today?"

"I'm right outside" he replies. Music to my ears; my veins run wild with electric, buzzing excitement. "Limousine. Black. Tinted windows."

That's all the encouragement I need. I pack a bunch of essentials into my bag - cell, make up, etc - and prepare to run out of the house. Before I unlock my door, though, one thing catches my eye. Slowly, and carefully, I take down my blinds from my window, and unfastening the cords that hold it all together, watch it fall apart on my bed. I pocket the cord, and jump out of my room and onto the street as fast as my creaking, barely-recovered knees will take me.

"Back in a bit!" I yell to my unknowing sister as I pass the living room and throw myself out of the kitchen door. It's just like he said; a black limousine, parked suspiciously in our neighborhood, with tinted windows and shiny silver wheels. Quite out of place, but definitely alluring. The backdoor opens, and the perpetually suited figure of Daniel Grant steps out - a platinum gray suit, with a white shirt beneath, different in fact from the one he wore to the audition - and beckons me closer with an outstretched palm.

Inside is everything I'd expect; an ornate, pristinely tidy set of leather seats, lit by an array of orange lights suspended from the roof of the car. A mini-bar lies opposite, stocked with drinks so far-flung I can barely pronounce their names, and the windows are tinted so darkly I have to squint my eyes to make out what lies beyond. I climb inside; he follows, and the doors are shut behind. I'm back in the billionaire's world. Back in his pocket.

"So, where to?" I ask, feeling the excitement of the moment take me. I look back upon him, seeing those jagged cheekbones riding high in his face, and that sly smile return to his lips.

"I thought I'd better tell you in person," he begins, clasping his hands together diplomatically. "You didn't get the part."

Oh
. I scratch my head, folding aside strands of confused black hair as I do so. Is this the part where I'm meant to feel bad again? Curse my acting career and start perusing the job pages?

"That's okay," I reply, finding his eyes warm and understanding. "I didn't even know what the movie was."

One question is still left unanswered; who am I kidding? Every question is unanswered, but one leaps to the forefront of my thoughts. I watch Daniel reach for an intercom, and tell the driver that we're ready to go. Immediately the limousine screeches from the street, and picks up a steady pace.

"But, why make me audition for something in the first place?"

He leans back in his seat, relaxing his arms, and staring out of the tinted windows at the passing cars, people, and buildings.

"I wanted to see you do what you do best. You're a thrilling actress."

A thrilling actress
. I think I understand just what he means by that now. I crane my head to the left, and watch the world passing in darkened shades. Just a few days ago I was one of those people, walking the sidewalk with my head slung sullenly downwards. Now I feel as though I'm something much more committed.

"Thank you," I finally say, answering his undue compliment, feeling emboldened and enflamed. I look to the driver, barely visible through a tinted window ahead. "Can he see into here?"

Daniel immediately leans to his right, jamming a small button with his thumb, bringing down a mechanized partition between us and the driver.

"Not anymore."

He watches me curiously, as though I've finally ventured out of his preordained plans; as though I've become something much more liberated and unpredictable to him, and he can no longer take my nervous indecision for granted. He doesn't even smile. Just watches me with those fiery blue eyes, hiding a mysterious intent.

"Good." I reveal from my back jean pocket a length of cord, stolen from my bedroom blinds half an hour earlier. He looks upon it, narrowing his eyes slowly and deviously, before looking back to me, and finally showing me that smile I know so well. "So why don't I get back into role?"

I haven't exactly had much time to think about it; not enough time to ponder the various psychoanalytical possibilities. But I don't care about that now. Daniel's words make things clear to me; I'm a thrilling actress
. An actress
.
Above all else
. I like the sound of that. I always have.

I shuffle my t-shirt atop my midriff, and over my shoulders, reveling in the warm delight of his eyes. It's soon over my head, and kicked to the floor of the limousine. My hands quickly dart behind my back, removing my bra; I feel I have to protect myself from the lecherous advances of his gaze with a forearm, precariously placed over my breasts as I throw the bra away too.

Okay, so I'm no longer
the girl who can't say no
. I invalidated that hallowed little clause on a contract that was never made to make sense, let alone legally bind me. But what's to stop me slipping back into role? My greatest character yet - devotee to Daniel Grant - something I can really sink my teeth into.

I finally drop my forearm after teasing him for a minute, going back to that tightly wound cord of string, and tying it around one wrist, followed by the other. Already I feel the exquisite pain of a rope burn, remorselessly threaded against my reddened, blistered skin like the manifestation of my defeated conscience. But I know what I want. With a dampness between my legs, and an unbridled excitement building within me, I tie my wrists in place together, and look to my billionaire boss for help.

I'm no longer doing this because I have to. I'm no fool, I don't desire to be Daniel Grant's slave anywhere but the bedroom. I'm no longer doing this because of some phony contract, or some vain attempt to impress the biggest movie producer in town. I don't even care about auditions anymore. Why would I, when I've already found the role of a lifetime?

He jumps over to my seat, grasping my forearm, and raising it upward, tying the remnants of rope to the handrail above, imprisoning me once again, signifying just how he wants this to go. For a moment, we're an inch apart, our lips close enough to kiss if I wanted to lunge forward for him. I close my eyes, and feel the hot, ticklish vapors of his breath on my lips. But it never comes.

I've discovered something deep and dark within me; an exuberance I never knew I had. And now I can't dampen the flames of lust that seem to engulf me in his presence. My thighs ache to be prized apart; my pants just seem like a mere barrier to our overwhelming, engulfing passions now, and with every thumping heartbeat, I feel another rush of blood between my legs.

Pulling my jeans off me in one furious motion, he revels in the sight of me almost naked once again, pulling that delicate, wry grin; his cheekbones jumping with glee. He reaches for the intercom once more, just as I look out of the tinted windows to see we're passing the same block, over and over.

"Driver, take us somewhere. Somewhere far."

And with that terse command, we're ready to begin.

"So Chloe. What's it gonna be?"

He needn't even ask the question. He could peel my panties off and have me any way he wants me. Still, I feel compelled to correct him on one simple thing:

"Call me Miss Everett."

I've changed my mind. I think, deep down, I'm still
the girl who can't say no
.

Ashley Spector

www.
ashleyspector
.com

Yet Another
Author's Note:

Again, I'd like to thank you, the reader, for giving your valuable time to this novel. It thrills me to know that so many people read the words I write, and that's a feeling that will never leave me. I'm considering a sequel, but I'd like to know whether it'd be appreciated first. There are certainly plenty of places I could go with this story, and so many questions left unanswered. Please leave me a review online, and tell me just what you think.

Thank you.

Short Stories Previously Published By Ashley:

Breaking In The Babysitter

It's New Year's Eve, and Clarissa has one last babysitting job; she just has to survive the night without falling prey to her drunk and handsome boss, Mr. Watkins! Things don't go to plan, and one accidental flashing later, they're bound together in a tangle of erotically charged bodies! There's one problem: no protection. Luckily, Clarissa has an idea; something she's never done before!

Leather And Velvet: Following Her Every Command

Laura is in trouble; working for the gorgeous but impatient billionaire Deborah Delacroix is tough to begin with, but after making a simple mistake, she risks the anger of her voluptuous boss! But when Ms. Delacroix instead bends her over a desk and administers a stern spanking, just how long can Laura hide her lustful excitement?

Servant To His Every Wish: An Indecent Proposal

When college graduate Jane is interviewed for a job at one of elusive billionaire Daniel Rose's companies, she seizes the chance to work under one of New York's most renowned bachelors. She soon discovers however, that the responsibilities of her new job go a little further than simple paperwork! Before long, she's sat naked and tied to a chair, trying her hardest to resist his persistent charms..