The Billionaire's Playroom: An Erotic Dominance Story

The
Billionaire’s Playroom: An Erotic Dominance Story

By

Lane
Masters

***

All
Romance Edition

***

Copyright
2012 by Lane Masters

***

All rights
reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or
used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission
of the author or the publisher except for the use of brief quotations
in critical articles or reviews.

***

This is a
work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters, and incidents
are either the product of the author’s imagination or used in a
fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead,
or actual events or locales is purely coincidental.

***

Check
out read more about Lane Masters and follow her blog at
http://SeductiveStories.net
.

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check her out on
Facebook!

***

Breathtaking
desire. Irresistible risk. Consuming passion.

Allison
finds herself stranded on the road, caught between the oncoming force
of a lightning storm and the open door of billionaire Craig Westford.
Which is more dangerous—the man or the storm? The man.
Definitely the man.

For this
man can awaken unfamiliar feelings inside of her--cravings she never
knew she had, passion she has never experienced. Fleeing the storm,
she is caught in the Billionaire’s Playroom. And she has no
desire to escape.

***

“Damn it!”
Allison cursed as she slammed her hand against her thigh. She glared
as she gazed down into the open hood of the rental car. Climbing out
of the dead car and opening its hood had been completely futile--the
jumbled innards of the vehicle were a complete mystery to her. All
she knew was that the damn rental car had died in the middle of God
knows where, and now Allison, a sports blogger for a local website,
would not get to Atlanta tonight. Thank God the interview she had
scheduled for tomorrow was in the late afternoon. Hopefully, she
would make it there by then.

Allison gazed around
her. She hadn’t seen a house for miles, and the edges of the
road were lined with the thick trees and scrub typical of North
Florida. But worst of all, were the clouds threatening ahead of her.
She had known a storm was coming, had expected to drive through it
all night long. She had not expected to have to wait out the
thunderstorm sitting in a dead car. There was no way she was going to
walk for help through a summer, Florida lightning storm.

She managed to slam the
car door just as the first gumdrop sized splatters of rain began to
fall. Thunder rumbled ominously in the distance, and she could see
the lightning coming.

Florida. Lightning
capital of the United States. One of the first things that she had
learned upon moving to the state was to get indoors when the
notorious summer storms flashed across the skies. The interior of the
car would be just as safe, right?

Allison watched the
electric strikes in the sky in front of her, violent shards of light
ripping through the clouds. The storm was coming closer, and there
was nothing she could do but wait it out. She sighed. It had been a
miserable day. First, she had been an hour late getting on the road
because her dog, Mojo, had managed to get out of the fence. She had
succeeded in chasing him down and gotten him to the kennel where he
was boarding, but by then rush hour traffic had hit. And rush hour
traffic headed out of Jacksonville, Florida was hell on earth.

Allison hated the
monotony of the interstate and had opted to take the back roads
headed north. She preferred the variety of the scenery and the
absence of 18-wheelers and vacation traffic. But there were a few
significant drawbacks, and being stuck in the middle of nowhere was
one of them.

Hell’s fire, she
couldn’t even use her phone to call for roadside assistance.
Anxiously, she glanced around, as if that would make her cell phone
magically transport from her house to her hand. Nope. Still no cell
phone.

She hadn’t
discovered that her cell phone was missing until she was a couple of
hours out of town. After several minutes of frantic searching,
scrabbling through her purse and then pulling over to search through
the luggage in the trunk, she distinctly remembered tossing it down
on the bed as she grabbed for her shoes to go search for Mojo. In her
rush to finally get out the door, she had forgotten to go back and
pick it up again.

So now she couldn’t
call for help, couldn’t call a friend to come pick her up,
couldn’t even call her boss and let him know she was going to
be late. And the lightning was inching closer with every moment.

Allison’s
attention was yanked away from the approaching storm by the rumble of
a car pulling up alongside of her. With one glance, she took in the
surprising sight of a brand-new Maserati sports car-- not exactly the
vehicle she would have expected to see on this deserted road. It was
a shiny black, with glowing chrome, and tinted windows. It’s
sleek, dark form took her breath away, every inch of it exuding
luxury and expense. It instantly cast an aura of wealth around the
man behind its wheel.

Allison couldn’t
control the expression of surprise on her face when she finally drew
her eyes away from the hot car and looked at the driver. He was
smoking just as much as the car was. Black hair feathered away from
his brow, as dark, piercing eyes searched hers. High cheekbones
whispered of Native American ancestors, but the dusky shade of a 5
o’clock shadow at his square, strong jaw gave away his European
blood. For some strange reason, he looked familiar, but she knew she
had never met anyone who could afford a car like this.

He cracked his car
window, lowering it just enough to speak out, and leaned over the
passenger seat toward her. Of course, with her own car as dead as a
doorknob, rolling down her own window was not an option. She
hesitated. He was a total stranger. How many times had she heard
horror stories about meeting total strangers on a dark road?

But then a lightning
bolt struck a tree somewhere up ahead, and the sudden crash made her
jump sky high. Which was more dangerous? The man or the storm? She
glanced back at the man, taking in his piercing gaze and smoldering
good looks. Definitely the man. But at least he looked friendly.

She cracked her door
open, so that she could hear what he was saying, squinting her eyes
through the raindrops that blew in.

“Are you okay?”
His voice was a deep bass, the kind of deep masculine voice that
always made her heart beat just a little bit faster. It matched his
rugged good looks completely.

“Yes. Yes, I’m
fine. My car just died.”

“Have you called
for help?”

Allison grimaced,
hating to admit this to a stranger. “No. I left my phone at
home.”

The man glanced at the
storm and then back at her again. “Well, I’d loan you my
phone to call roadside, but the nearest service station is about 45
minutes from here, and they aren’t exactly going to be thrilled
about coming out in the middle of the storm. I hate to tell you this,
but the storm is only supposed to get worse over the next several
hours. And it will be dark soon.”

Allison nodded, filled
with dismay. Would a car really keep her safe from that kind of
vicious lightning?

The man looked
thoughtful, considering. His four head wrinkled worriedly as he
watched the approaching storm. “Look, why don’t you come
with me and wait the storm out? My house is only a couple of miles
ahead.”

Allison felt a rush of
trepidation slip through her veins. She couldn’t imagine
getting into a car with a strange man. My God, that was an even
bigger rule than “don’t talk to strangers.” Visions
of little Red Riding Hood and the Big Bad Wolf ran through her head.

“I have an idea,”
he said, opening the glove box of his car. Allison watched him take a
plastic bag out of the glove box and slip something inside it.

“Here,” he
said, reaching his hand out toward her. “My phone’s
inside. Go ahead and call someone, let them know where you’re
going. My name is Craig Westford. You can even take my picture and
text it to a friend so they know who you're with.”

The name ran through
Allison’s brain, finally sliding into place. She had heard of
this guy, or at least of his family. They owned an enormous company
that supplied the entire state with gravel for road construction. But
in this area, they were especially famous for their extremely
generous scholarship endowments.

She glanced back at
him. So, that was why he seemed familiar. Just last week she had seen
him on the news, handing a $10,000 check to some high school senior
who volunteered at an animal shelter.

Another lightning
strike made the decision for her. Quickly, she reached through the
crack in the door and took the bag. She pulled the phone out and held
it up to the window glass as

Craig
watched her. She snapped his picture and texted it to her best
friend. Car broke down. Going with Craig Westford. Yes really. :-)

Then, Allison slid from
the driver seat, dragging her keys and overnight bag with her. She
fumbled for a moment with the passenger door of the Maserati, the
torrential rain soaking her before she could get inside. Expensive
leather welcomed her as she slid into the seat, the glow of luxury
all around. She smiled at the scent of the leather, which had always
been a bit of a turn on for her. It brought to her mind images of
hard, half-naked cowboys riding wild stallions. For some reason, her
mind automatically transitioned to being bent over a saddle and taken
just as hard and wild by those same muscular cowboys.

She shook her head. The
buttery soft leather was a far cry from the hard, half civilized
leather of her fantasy. She ran her hand over the smooth surface,
feeling bad about getting the seat so wet, but there was not much she
could do about it.

But then she looked at
the man beside her on the seat and completely forgot about her
soaking wet clothes. Craig Westford had always looked handsome on
TV, but he was even better looking in real life.

She caught a whisper of
his spicy, masculine scent, and his dark eyes mesmerized her
instantly. He was the kind of man who commanded attention, who exuded
self-confidence and power.

Allison flushed as his
eyes traveled over her, and she suddenly realized that the black tank
top she had chosen to wear for her road trip was soaking wet. Thank
God she hadn’t worn a white one. She would have looked like she
was ready for a wet T-shirt contest in any bar in the country.
However, the chill of the rain had caused her nipples to harden, and
she knew the hard tips had to be clearly visible even through the
black cloth of her shirt and bra.

Oddly enough, Allison
realized she didn’t mind his eyes checking her out. Maybe he
would like what he saw. The truth was, he was modestly clothed, and
she was still checking him out, too.

But then Craig’s
expression shifted from intent to a slow grin. “Buckle up,
baby. It’s gonna be a wild ride.”

Allison giggled
nervously, chiding herself for the schoolgirl sound. Nevertheless,
she obediently reached for the seatbelt and strapped it across her
body. Then the car took off and a rush of adrenaline whipped through
her veins.

She could feel the
power as the car sped down the road, racing the wind and the
lightning. It was as if the car harnessed the power of the storm, and
the energy of the lightning throbbed through the engine. Allison’s
heart pounded with the rush, thrilling at the exhilaration in her
blood. She had always been a bit of an adrenaline junkie, attracted
to things that made her heart pound with excitement. She fought the
impulse to urge him faster and faster, but it was a close call. All
too soon, the car slipped down a long paved driveway, speeding past
tall palm trees and twisting oaks. To Allison, who had been raised
far from the East Coast, the contrast was striking.

The car took a sharp
corner with ease, Allison gasped when she saw the palatial mansion in
front of her. The red tile roof and arched entryways bespoke Spanish
style influence, and she could tell even from this distance that the
light colored walls were made with coquina, appropriate for Florida’s
heritage. But the rest of it was completely modern. A long circular
driveway led in front of formal double doors, and high walls were
dotted with windows framed with balconies. It was enormous.

The yard was studded
with palm trees and formal landscaping, a large white fountain
occupying the place of honor in the center of the court. But with the
torrential rainfall, a fountain was completely unnecessary. Allison
did not have long to admire the view. Craig’s strong hand
guided the car around the corner, and he pulled smoothly into an
enormous garage on the side of the house.