Taming Graeme (Taming the Billionaire) (29 page)

 
“You have my mobile number, and John will give you his,” said Graeme finally. “I honestly don’t know if you’ll have time to do much work on your course, but I hope you will.”

 
“Where are you staying, Olivia?” asked John.

 
“I’ve made all the arrangements,” said Graeme. “If you need her, just call her on her mobile. How did young Reece do with you this week, Olivia?”

 
“He isn’t too bright, is he?” she smiled. “I’ve gone over everything and given him checklists to fill in and give to Pat, Mr. Taylor’s P.A. at four every day. She’ll eyeball the reports and if anything is missing or incorrect she will be able to catch the error and make him fix it before he goes home. The daily summary is on the computer now. I programmed it so his omissions flash in orange boxes. He knows he won’t be going home before everything is perfect each day, and Pat will scan the report and email it to me in Belfast before he’s allowed to leave, so that I can double check. I’m not coming back to that same old mess again!”

 
“Thank goodness you took all those computer courses the Bank offered you over the years, Olivia,” smiled John Taylor. “I swear that you’ve made the entire Currency Trading Department run smoother, with the changes you’ve made for us. And your suggestions about upgrading the computer you use, and the one Pat uses, have been right on. I hadn’t even realized they still ran on XP.”

 
“Very clever solution, pet,” said Graeme absently.

 
John Taylor looked at him sharply, but didn’t say a word. He said his goodbyes and left Olivia packing up the paperwork to take with her.

 
“You called me
pet
, and John Taylor caught it,” she told Graeme quietly.

 
“Oh well, he’s not into the scene, so it wouldn’t have the same significance to him as it does to us,” he replied tiredly. “I’m beat, kitten. An unplanned three day trip to Canada to sort out a major snafu with one of our largest international clients was not my idea of fun this week. One of our Canadian lawyers flew back with me, and we were in conference calls with the client until midnight. It was one this morning before I got to bed…I thought about calling you but I knew you’d be asleep. 

 
“Let’s go home and have dinner and a nice long soak in our lavender bath, shall we?”

  Olivia smiled. So Graeme had been thinking about her, and he wasn’t pushing her away this time...perhaps he was beginning to care for her, just a little.

  They walked up to the top floor of the car park. John Taylor was just getting into his BMW and waved to them. He started his car and stopped behind Graeme’s Aston Martin. “Good of you to give Olivia a lift home, Graeme. I should have offered myself.  Talk to you both Monday morning,” and he was off.

 
“See, pet? He didn’t catch on to anything at all.”

 
But neither Olivia nor Graeme saw the speculative look in John Taylor’s eye.

 
“Hmmm...He recommended the girl for the job with me, and she has turned out as clever as he said she’d be. Which is far cleverer than anybody else at the Bank had noticed.

 
“Then he decides she can go and clear up the mess in Belfast despite her very junior position, and makes everybody think it was my idea. Mind you, he’s right. She sorted out the mess with the forms design that was causing our problems here in London and there is no reason to think she won’t do the same in Belfast. After all, she’ll probably just have to duplicate what she did for me here.

 
“Nobody seems to know where he’s booked her. He looked after all her arrangements himself. That’s unusual. I wonder...I wonder if he’s putting her up at the country house he’s said to own just outside Belfast. I wonder...he called her
pet,
the same endearment I use for my wife, and they were getting into his car together...I wonder if Olivia is the mysterious new girlfriend Amanda was on about Wednesday afternoon when she was nattering to my P.A.? He did mention that she already has his mobile number…

 
“I think I’ll keep my eyes and ears open. Olivia is a sweet girl and quite naive, really, I think. Graeme’s a bit of a man about town. His last girlfriend, that French girl, was very sophisticated and knowing, which little Olivia is not. I didn’t like that French girl when she was here in the spring and he brought her to that Dinner and Dance the Bank hosted...I’ll just keep my eye out, the same as I would for my own daughter.”

 
Oblivious to John Taylor’s suspicions, Graeme and Olivia drove to her bed sitter and picked up the few work clothes that weren’t by now at Graeme’s townhouse. Her landlady was in the hall when they came out.

 
“I’m going away for a couple of weeks, Mrs. Dawson. The Bank is sending me to Belfast.”

 
“How will you pay the rent, if you’re gone over month’s end?” the landlady demanded.

 
“Ah, yes,” said Graeme smoothly, “She might well be away over month’s end if the mess in Belfast is as bad as I think it is, Mrs. Dawson. But I don’t like her living in this area on her own anyway, so how about I pay you a month’s rent right now, and Olivia will be leaving here when she comes back from Northern Ireland. This way, you won’t lose any money, and Olivia has time when she returns to decide where she’s going to live and move her things out.”

 
“The rent is a hundred pounds a week, Graeme,” said Olivia quietly, “and I’m paid until the end of the month, which is a week from now.”

 
“Well then, I’ll give you four hundred, shall I, Mrs. Dawson?”

 
“That will be fine, Mr.????”

 
“Browning. Mr. Browning.”

 
He got his wallet out and handed the landlady four hundred pounds.

 
Within minutes, they were in the car, speeding toward his townhouse.

 
“You will never spend another night in that flea trap, pet,” he said.

 
“I’ll write you a cheque for the four hundred,” she said quietly.

 
“You will do no such thing. As your Dom, it is my responsibility to look after your safety. I am remiss. I should have moved you out of that dump weeks ago. We’ll worry about where you’re going to live when you get back from Belfast. And incidentally, thanks for taking on the task of straightening that mess out. I know you’ll do a wonderful job. You certainly did here in London, kitten.”

 
“Where
am
I staying in Belfast? I think Amanda and John Taylor are both dying of curiosity.”

 
“Why at our house of course. Where else did you think? James will drive you to and from work each day, and Mrs. Green is thrilled she’s going to have you to look after for the week. I think you will clear it up within the week. After all, you’ve done it before now, so a lot will be duplication of your London solutions, I’m sure.

 
“So you’ll be soaking in Jasmine each night while I’m soaking in Lavender,” he teased. “We can have long telephone chats while we soak. We can discuss the merits of lavender versus jasmine,” he smiled.

 
After dinner, they sat in the study, going over the details of the mess in Belfast yet again.

 
“If the paperwork is as bad as it looks, Graeme, I should be able to get the latest ten grand fine reversed. If you’ll give me the authority, I’ll call Compliance myself. John Taylor let me do that when I cleaned up the mess here. And if the new clerk you have in mind is half way good, we can set him the task of reviewing the last few months, and perhaps we can reverse those fines as well…”

 
“That would more than pay the expense of send you over, baby, and prevent a recurrence. I can’t understand the old owners ignoring the mess for so long…”

 
“I can, Graeme...all Rafe and Brendan think about is their race horses.”

They laughed together.

  At ten, they closed the file and went up to soak in the tub. They washed each other and then Graeme’s cock rose majestically above the waterline.  Olivia dipped her head and teased the slit in that throbbing purple head, licking the pre-cum, following the pattern of veins down his shaft, then she took him into her mouth and sucked, first gently and then with more and more relish. He lay back, loving it, and then abruptly pulled her head up and flipped her around...”Grab the end of the bath, baby. I’ve got to enjoy that ass while I’ve still got it within my reach... it was a long three nights while I was away from you in Canada, ‘Livi, and it’s going it’s going to be a longer week with you in Ireland and me here...” and he was plunging into her, one hand on her clit, and soon they both exploded in complete delight.

 
He nuzzled her as they lay in bed, “Oh, baby, you’re going to be so sore by Sunday night. I’m keeping you here in the bedroom all weekend. I’m going to miss that ass and your sweet little mouth on my cock until I see you again, not to mention your tight velvet cunt.”

 
“Not as much as I’m going to miss you,” Olivia whispered.

 
He heard her, and smiled.

 
Olivia suddenly remembered how cheeky she’d been to Amanda the other morning. Oh dear, she’d better tell him. She’d better tell him now...

 
“Graeme, Sir?”

 
He heard the worry in her voice. “What, pet?”

 
“I think you may need to spank me. Punishment, not pleasure...”

 
“Why?”

 
“The other morning I was quite sarcastic to your cousin. She was being so officious, and I didn’t think...but I used a nice tone of voice, and she never even noticed....still I disobeyed you.”

 
Graeme chuckled. “I do that myself to Amanda, frequently. Say something very cutting in a nice tone, and it goes straight over her head. Well, it wasn’t to John Taylor, and you told me, so I’m going to let you off without a spanking. But you know how I like to be woken up in the morning, don’t you, baby?”

 
He had a dream… that something soft and warm and wet was caressing his cock as he lay in his bed, and that his cock was getting harder and larger and starting to throb as those sweet lips and talented tongue made love to the head of his shaft, and that soft hands were stroking him, harder and harder, and playing with his balls now… Graeme opened his eyes and smiled at the pale blond hair bobbing up and down…what a wonderful way to wake up. He gave in to the delicious sensations her tongue and lips were giving him, and his hips began to move, and the suction grew, and he felt himself growing larger and harder, so hard, so fine…so fine…the pressure was building now, and his balls were so tight…just a minute more….he didn’t want this to end, she could do this all day, but his body betrayed him, and he felt the pressure build and then he was thrusting up eagerly, and she was sucking harder, and taking him deeper than ever before, and he shot his seed down her throat….

 
They showered, playing with each other, teasing, pleasing and then he made her put her jeans on, and her white shirt and black blazer with her blue platform shoes that had cost the earth, and they went down to breakfast.

 
“I’m taking you shopping, pet,” he told he
r
. “I thought about it just before I fell asleep last night. Clothes make the man, you know, or in this case, young woman.

 
“This Tim O’Rourke will never take a sweet young thing like you seriously and actually use your new reporting system if he sees you looking like a secretary. So we’re going to Harrods after breakfast and I’m going to buy you some suits, and shoes and a good handbag. You’ll look like a young executive, not the junior assistant about to become junior trader you really are.”

 
“I’ve never been shopping in Harrods. I’ve walked through, and admired the lovely things they carry, but I’ve never had the money to shop there, Sir,” she told him shyly, her shining eyes betraying her delight and excitement.

 
“I think their Armani Collection might have just what you need,” he smiled. “I used to go with Carrie to Fashion Week, she loved clothes and I loved dressing her, and I always thought Armani did some wonderful business clothes. You won’t need a lot. But you’ll get about three month’s wear out of them before your belly really begins to swell, I imagine.” He smiled benignly at her.

  And he did just as he said. He took her to the Armani Collezioni and within three quarters of an hour had bought her three jackets and four pencil skirts, some trousers and several blouses, and two pairs of coordinating shoes with handbags to match, as well as a wonderful leather jacket to take to Ireland. He didn’t let her try anything on except the shoes, just worked with a fawning sales assistant to gather a very elegant and professional looking wardrobe for her.

 
When they got back to the townhouse, he had her model everything for him, and helped her to plan how the pieces would coordinate. Everything fit perfectly.

 
“See, kitten,” he smiled at her, “I know exactly what size you are...”