ROMANCE: BILLIONAIRE ROMANCE: The CEO's Game (CEO Bad Boy Alpha Male Stepbrother Romance) (New Adult Romance Short Stories)

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Copyright 2015 by Kristina King - All rights reserved.

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Author's Note:

This book is a work of fiction.  The names, characters, places and incidents are a product of the author's imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real.  Any resemblance to persons living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental.  The author does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third party websites or their content.

The CEO's Game

BBW CEO Romance

By: Kristina King

“You’re not going anywhere just yet”

Adam Torrance shifted uncomfortably before his full length mirror as he straightened his paisley tie in the glass. Peering at his reflection, the man caught a glimpse of Rebecca leisurely crawling through the sheets, her blonde hair moving in rhythm with her shoulders as she let the linens fall from her tight lithe body. He offered no resistance as she pushed her perfect nails under his jacket and started to knead his flesh through the starched creases of his silk shirt.

“Aren’t I?” Adam quipped as he turned around to take her into his arms. “How am I supposed to keep you comfortable if I don’t get down to business?”

“And you’re just so sure that I’m going to hang around and wait for you?”

He sighed, knowing that when he left, Rebecca would be joyful and undoubtedly seize the chance alone with his gold card. She'd start with a massage, lunch at Marlo’s, and return to the penthouse with more clothes than she could ever hope to wear in the span of a single lifetime. But when she ran her hands up and down his chest and whispered what she would do below his belt, Adam was willing to give her anything that she might ever desire.

“So maybe I’ll just stay,” he offered. “Bet playing hooky with you has its perks.”

Rebecca yelped in delight as he eased her back to the bed and started to nuzzle her neck. What did he have to complain about? He had a knockout in his arms and in his bed night after night. And if he wanted to, he could call out and loll around in bed with her all day and possibly turn it into a week if he so chose. He was rich.

“Not happening, boy,” Rebecca said as she playfully slapped his thigh and kept him at arm’s length. “You have to prove yourself to me today.”

“Becca… aren’t two times more than enough?” he pleaded. Playing with women's hearts for Rebecca's pleasure was weird to him. He felt weak for bowing to her demands, but she was a tigress in the sack and didn't want to lose that. Or, have to pay for it...

“Third time’s the charm, babe,” Rebecca answered. “Now make it count."

“Wouldn’t you rather have me here?” he asked.

Rebecca fondled his face and played with his hair. Adam felt as if he was about to get his way, a first when it came to the blonde and her bright blue eyes, and he was about to lean in for a fresh kiss when she swirled to her side and once again concealed her body under the sheet.

“But how will I know if your heart is true if I don’t put you the test?” Rebecca asked.

And there it was again; some things were never going to change. Adam sat on the edge of the bed and smoothed his hands down his shirt as he cracked his neck over his shoulders.

“Would hope that my word would be enough,” Adam said.

“And like all men, you’ll say one thing and mean another.

Keeping the sheet close, Rebecca swooshed across the room to pick at the remnants of their dinner and she seductively sucked on an olive that never made its way into a martini glass. Peeling the pit away with her teeth, she spit the hard stone towards his feet and curled her lips into a cold smirk.

“Are you going get that?” she asked. “Or are you going to leave it for the maid?”

She loved being able to snap her fingers and call for help. She liked it more when Adam made like a trained seal and obeyed her every order. Scooping the masticated pit into the palm of his hand, Adam deposited the refuse into the metal trash can and wiped his fingers clean with a rumpled linen napkin.

Shaking her head, Rebecca moved to the bath and started to run the water. Following her with a hardness pressing against his trousers, Adam watched her slip under the suds, and she carelessly dotted a loofah sponge with a stream of soap before lifting her legs to scrub them down.

“Adam, come closer.”

Curling her soapy finger into the air, Adam moved to the tub and nearly fell to his knees when she told him to stay standing and ducked her head under the water. As she stayed submerged, Adam felt a flurry of contradicting emotions tugging at his soul. He wanted no harm to ever come to her; that was monstrous. That was her terrain. But if she could just disappear and let him off the hook. If she didn’t have the power to turn his head and other parts of his body with nothing but a light whisper in passing, he might be a happier man; and whatever next victim was waiting for him outside his office would definitely find herself a happier woman at the final curtain.

Emerging with a look of triumph plastered across her damp face, Rebecca wound her hair over her neck and leaned back against the marble.

“And don't forget, I want to meet her and get a look when you’re ready to move in for the kill,” Rebecca said. “You wouldn’t want to deprive me of that, would you?”

“That’s always been the plan.”

Pushing her hand under the water and arching her back in the throes of self-pleasure, Adam felt that he was beat, and he squared his shoulders as he touched his fingers to her smiling face.

“Guess I have to get you another plain jane trophy for your wall,” he said darkly. “Wish you could look at me and let that be enough.”

“Adam, looking in the mirror is enough,” she said. “This is extra. This is how you prove yourself worthy.”

Part of him wanted to scream and tell her that he’d had enough, that the first time held something of a thrill for him, but that was so far in the past, and Adam wanted to grow up. Could he be getting a conscience?  When he looked at her and knew how she could make him feel he felt defeated by his addiction to her.

“Fine,” he said. “Guess I’m off then.”

“That’s my man,” Rebecca said. “Go and do your thing.”

But it wasn’t his thing, or even their thing. It was undeniably and completely Rebecca.

And it was a wheel that he saw that he saw no way of ever escaping if he wanted to keep her around.

Chapter 2

“So today’s the big day?”

Kathleen Murphy ran a brush through her dark brown hair before weaving her locks into a thick braid. As she twined her hair down her back, she backed away from the mirror at the bathroom sink for a quick inspection of her outfit. The flared skirt worked wonders when it came to her thighs; everything else in her closet either hugged her hips too tightly or made her look as if she was wearing a potato sack. The black number was perfect, and the cream-colored sweater hid the muffin top that was always crawling over the top of her pants. Was she playing at being something and someone that she wasn’t? Probably. But being
just Kathleen
was not going to cut it if she had a chance at Adam Torrance’s assistant's desk.

“How do I look?” Kathleen chirped as she exited the bathroom and did a twirl for effect. Linda clapped her hands from the couch and whistled her approval.

“I like!” Linda said. “Now that’s a prime personal assistant in the making.”

“From your lips, Linny.”

“Like you need my vote of confidence,” her friend said as stood up off the couch and moved in to give her a quick hug.

“Oh! I probably shouldn’t---”

“Why not?” Kathleen asked.

“Wouldn’t want to muss you or anything.”

“It won’t wrinkle,” Kathleen assured her. “Come here.”

Linda took her into her arms, and Kathleen mulled over recent events as she lingered in Linda’s hold. One year out of college, and the internship courtesy of Franklin and Torrance had turned into a floating position and the constant promise of going from temp to permanent that never materialized. She had slaved at one desk and then another and another. Working for the associates, her skills were never utilized and she never got to do anything more than proof basic briefs; however Kathleen was patient and bided her time. Somehow she believed that hard work and efficiency would ultimately catch the right set of eyes.

And they didn’t get any bigger or brighter than the man with his name listed second on the letterhead.

“So this is really the first sit down with the man at the helm?” Linda asked for what felt like and likely was the tenth time.

“All I know is that he needs someone new,” Kathleen said.

“And out of that whole pool swimming with secretaries, the shark honed in on you.”

“Must be something in the way I take notes.”

Truth be told, she couldn’t recall any one triumph that might have found its way to the man’s ears let alone turned his head in her direction. But if her feet were planted on the path to better things, who was she to tremble and try to turn back?

“But it is a done deal, right?” Linda asked.

“I suppose I could always blow the interview,” Kathleen said.

“Just how would you do that?” Linda asked.

“Trip over my words. Turn his desk over without wanting to.”

“Or flirt until he thought that having you so close was too much of a risk.”

Kathleen rolled her eyes and adjusted the hem of her skirt.

“There are plenty of other girls the man could get if that’s all that he is after,” she said. “And to his credit, I hear that he doesn’t move like that when he comes to his PAs.”

“Because he has a type?” Linda asked.

"Yeah, the supermodel type; I think I fit that bill to a tee.” she quipped sarcastically.

“You're too hard on yourself” Linda said. “But if having a brain and a little extra meat on your bones gives you a hand up, you might as well take advantage of it."

“Makes me feel like the one that’s going to stick around,” Kathleen said. “The others tried too hard to be everything for him. I’m not looking to land a husband or anything, Linda.”

“Then why do it? It's got gruelling hours and the pay isn't great.”

“Because I’d like to see my name on the letterhead one of these days.”

And learning at the foot of Adam Torrance seemed like a prime place to start.

“Final thoughts?” Kathleen asked.

Linda tilted her head one way and then the other. Kathleen felt no fear as her friend stayed silent, but she wavered slightly when Linda clicked her tongue.

“What?” Kathleen asked. “You think something’s wrong?”

“Just wondering how I’m going to make rent once you turn power player and get your own place.”

“Brat,” Kathleen muttered as she slapped her arm. “You know I’m not one to leave my friends in the lurch.”

“So like maybe I get to be your assistant when the time is right?”

“Learn how to type, and then we’ll talk, Linny.”

Leaving her friend with a quick kiss to her cheek, Kathleen literally hit the ground running. The lure of a quick trip in a yellow cab tempted her, but she held back. Better to save her pennies until she knew for sure that her paycheck was a steady one. The walk felt good, the morning breeze nipping at her cheeks as ten blocks became two and finally one. Standing before the imposing gray building and knowing what waited for her on the twelfth floor, Kathleen breathed hard through her nose and tossed her braid over her shoulder before spinning through the revolving glass door.

Passing the break room, Kathleen shot a smile in the direction of the other girls not invited to the foot of the throne and threw a friendly wave at them. She found herself on the receiving end of nothing but cold eyes and knowing smirks.

“Jealousy is not an attractive trait on anyone, ladies.” she muttered to herself as she held her head high.

Their collective laughter hit her back as soon as she turned the corner towards the main office. She wondered what catty comment had been said about her weight and she stopped for a second to lean against the deep maroon walls and gain her composure. Some days life still felt like high school, and she feared that there was no hope of ever escaping the mean girls.

“No,” she muttered as she sucked in a deep breath. “They’re the ones stuck in the past. I’m moving forward.”

Kathleen took the gold plated bar in her hand and pushed through the glass door. Adam Torrance’s lobby was decorated in every shade of white from snowflake to blizzard, and as she grazed her fingers against the edge of a mahogany desk, Kathleen could picture herself sitting there at the man’s beck and call. The space seemed silent, and she decided to try the swiveling chair out for size.

“Nice,” she whispered. “I could get used to this.”

Turning slowly as she tossed her head back and let her eyes flutter shut, Kathleen barely had the chance to shoot up to attention at the sound of another door cracking open followed by a pair of firm footsteps bearing down on her.

“Miss Bedford?”

Shit.