Bound by the Texas Billionaire (BBW Erotica) (Billionaire BDSM) (Billionaire Domination) Page 7

  “Now finger yourself.”

  Macy’s breath hissed out between her teeth at his order.

  “Why?”

  Logan hadn’t made eye contact with her since he’d invited himself to her great-grandmother’s party. She thought he was going to refuse to answer her when he lifted his head and she saw his eyes. They had grown languid, closing half-way, giving him that heavy-lidded look that made her insides turn to mush.

  “Because I’m going to fuck you, Miss Trent. Against the wall. And I want you wet.” He turned his attention back to his report.

  Yeah, like I really need to touch myself to make that happen.

  Her pussy had been dripping with moisture all day.

  “What was that, Miss Trent?”

  She didn’t answer. Seated like this she felt exposed and vulnerable—and sexy as hell. She slid her finger down the middle of her blue satin panties, groaning when she touched her clitoris. She knew it wouldn’t take long for her come. She’d never realized she was such a sexual being. Logan had given her that. Cursed her with that. She knew no one could ever satisfy her like he did.

  “Harder, Miss Trent.”

  She closed her eyes and concentrated on the feel of her fingers against the most sensitive part of herself.

  Moments later she was moaning his name. “Please, please, may I come sir?”

  Logan almost exploded in his own pants as Macy begged permission for her release. Whether she realized it or not, she had completely embraced certain aspects of the lifestyle of a submissive. A sub never came without permission from her master. He rose and donned protection as he walked toward her.

  “Not yet, Macy.”

  Before she could protest, he lifted her from the chair. Her legs instinctively wrapped around him and he relished the feel of her weight in his arms. In two steps, her back was against the wall and he was inside her. He took her with one swift, sharp thrust. She buried her face in his neck and screamed, her hips moving convulsively as he took her again and again. She was as wild for him as he was for her. He drove into her hard and fast. “That’s it, Macy, take me. Feel me inside you.”

  “Lean back,” he ordered. She complied, but kept her arms around his neck and her eyes closed. Her breasts swayed as he pounded inside her. He bent forward and pulled the cup of her bra away from one nipple, taking it deep into his mouth. She moaned and clasped his head to her breast. She could no longer move. She simply accepted his possession. And her own pleasure. Just like a good little sub should.

  *****

  “What? Is something wrong?” The next day, Macy glanced down at her outfit as Logan leaned against the door of the bedroom watching her. She’d dressed in blue jeans and a silky emerald green top that hugged her curves. It was one of the new outfits he’d bought her that she hadn’t been able to resist once she tried it on. She didn’t wear blue jeans very often. The off-the-shelf offerings were not made for women who had additional assets so to speak. These jeans had been tailored to fit. And they did. Well.

  Not that she’d ever be the type of woman to let a man decide what she should and should not wear, she wanted to please Logan. More than that, she wanted to make him proud of her. “Don’t you like what I’m wearing?”

  “Oh, I like it Miss Trent. I like it a lot.”

  Macy smiled. When he said ‘Miss Trent’ in that tone of voice it usually meant she was in for a marathon session of sex which either ended or began with her tied to the bed.

  “Behave yourself, Mr. Quinn. We’re expected at my parents’ house in half an hour.”

  He stalked toward her, the gracefulness of his movements reminding her of a large, jungle cat. “Plenty of time for me to get you out of those jeans.”

  She titled her head and looked up at him. “Do you really like them?”

  He shook his head as if he couldn’t believe she would ask such a thing and reached for her, pulling her against him. Against the rigid length of his dick beneath his casual kaki pants. “No, I really like what’s inside them.”

  She put her arms around his neck and ground her mound against him making them both groan. “Well, I am glad you like them.” She looked up at him, her expression almost shy considering the things they had shared in the last few weeks. Two more weeks, that’s all she had left. “I’m glad you like me.”

  Logan gave her a swift, hard kiss instead of a reply. Not that she’d expected one, but it would have been nice. He disentangled her arms and pulled away.

  “Time to go.”

  A black SUV waited for them on the street outside the apartment building. Macy was glad. Explaining Logan to her family was going to be difficult enough; explaining her arrival at her grandmother’s birthday party in a limousine would have been impossible. But she did wonder when he had occasion to use the four-wheel drive vehicle.

  As if he read her thoughts, he said, “It’s easier when Jim drives. I can do work while stuck in traffic.”

  “I didn’t say a word.”

  “No, but you thought it.”

  “Thank you for my grandmother’s present.” She fingered the present that lay between them on the leather seat. It was wrapped in exquisite golden paper and she knew her grandmother would enjoy the wrapping almost as much as the present itself. Well, not really. “I know I shouldn’t have let you do it, but I’m glad I did.”

  A grunt was his only response as he concentrated on changing lanes. Macy leaned back in her seat. Before she’d spent time with Logan, she’d never know how decadent leather could feel. “Hmm, I wonder what it would feel like to wear a leather thong.”

  The SUV swerved a little and he groaned. “Damn it to hell, Macy, I’m driving here.”

  Macy laughed, feeling happy and carefree at once. Any time she could put another dent in his armored exterior, she felt positively giddy.

  The party was in full swung by the time they arrived at Macy’s parents. The wave of laughter and music hit Logan as soon as he stepped inside the Trent’s one story, ranch style house. It was a nice house as far as houses went. Middle-class, middle-of-the-road. He tried not to cringe as a surge of people came out to greet them.

  “Macy!” A long-legged girl flung herself at Macy. “I haven’t seen you in ages.” The two hugged and Logan realized the other girl, well woman really, had to be Macy’s younger sister, Allison. The woman he was, in essence, sending to medical school. For the first time in a long time, he felt a sense of pride in how he was using his money. She had the same dark brown hair as her sister and her eyes were the same rich chocolate color but not nearly as beautiful. She was also taller than Macy by several inches and didn’t carry as much extra padding even though she was still a curvy girl. He was sure both things had managed to piss Macy off on more than one occasion. He held out his hand. “Logan Quinn.”

  She shook his hand, introducing herself in a serious tone. “Allison Trent, medical student.”

  The somberness instantly fled. “Oooh, I’ve wanted to do that forever,” she squeaked.

  Logan realized squeaking and squealing were apparently Trent traits when excited or surprised. He wondered if Macy would do that later tonight when he spanked her for her comment in the car. The vision of her in a leather thong, better yet, the leather harness, still had his dick hard.

  Done saying hello to her sister, Macy took his hand and steered him through the crowd, calling out hellos as they moved through the swarm of bodies. It reminded him of going clubbing in his younger days—a huge out-of-control mass of humanity. The only difference here was that everyone was related to one another.

  In minutes they were free, standing in the kitchen. One woman stood at the stove while two others sat at the counter chopping vegetables.

  “Hello, Mama.” She dropped his hand and greeted the one at the stove. The woman turned and smiled, her already happy face lighting up even more.

  “Macy! It’s been way too long, baby-girl.” She grabbed her by the cheeks and squeezed. Macy suffered through the enthusiastic greeting before g
iving her mother a kiss on the cheek. The women were almost the same height and almost the same shape. Curves obviously ran in the family. What did they say? Look at a woman’s mother and you’ll see what she’ll look like in twenty years.

  Whoa. Where the hell that thought come from? He wouldn’t even remember Macy’s name in twenty years, much less wonder what she looked like.

  Or would he? He’d known from the beginning that Macy was trouble. He’d never entered into a relationship with a woman who worked for him. Not even one remotely involved in any business deal. With Macy, he’d broken that rule not once, but twice.

  “Logan, are you alright?” Macy and her mother were looking at him with concern.

  Was he alright? Hell, no. He’d just looked into his future and saw the emptiness that awaited him.

  He stepped forward. “Logan Quinn.”

  His hand was clasped between two softer ones and squeezed tightly. “Logan Quinn. It is a pleasure to meet you. Macy has spoken of you often.”

  “Mmm, I just bet she has. It would be interesting to know what she said, Mrs. Trent.”

  “Enough of that.” Macy quickly turned Logan away. “I need to introduce him to Grandmother.”

  “Are you afraid to tell me what you said, Miss Trent.”

  Her eyes narrowed. “I’ll tell you what I told my mother, if you tell me what you told Osaka.”

  “Fair enough.” Logan’s face closed up and his gut tightened when he remembered Osaka’s offer to buy Macy’s time for the evening. The thought of that man’s hands–or any man’s hands for that matter–on Macy had filled him with a murderous range that had been totally alien to him. He’d wanted to leap across the table and pound the man’s face. Jealousy? Had that been what he’d felt? What. The. Hell.

  “Logan, this is my Grandmother, Alessandra Tartaglia.”

  He turned his attention to the white-haired woman ensconced in a chair in the informal seating area attached to the kitchen. A group of young children sat around her playing with a wide assortment of toys and games.

  The woman’s face still held the traces of her younger beauty even at ninety. He took the hand offered and brought it to his lips in a traditional Italian greeting. “Ciao. E bello per incontrarLa.”

  She reached up and brushed her other hand against his cheek. “Macy, at last you have brought home a good Italian boy.”

  He hadn’t been called a boy in long time. In fact, he’d never wanted to be called a boy again. It implied weakness and a lack of maturity. But coming from the lips of this woman it sounded good. Almost familial. “Io sono Texano.”

  “What did you say to her?” Macy asked.

  Logan’s brow rose. “You don’t speak Italian?”

  “No,” she huffed. “And I can’t speak Japanese either, so don’t look so incredulous. You’re glad I can’t speak that apparently.”

  Logan felt a genuine smile form. “I told her I was not Italian, but Texan.”

  The old woman’s dark eyes lit up. “And I told him, so is my Macy. You will make a good match. You should have paid more attention to me when you were young and you would understand all the sexy things this man says when he is inside you bringing you joy.”

  “Grandmother!”

  “Hush now, girl,” she scolded, then clapped her hands together. “What have you brought an old, old woman for her birthday? Perhaps the last one she will enjoy on God’s good earth.”

  Macy softly scolded the woman back for such talk, but placed the gift in her wrinkled hands. Immediately she oohed and aahed over the professionally wrapped present just as Macy knew she would. “Before you open it, you have to promise me you’ll accept this, no matter what.”

  Her grandmother’s fingers stilled and she looked between her granddaughter and the man by her side. Her grandmother could always tell when someone in the family was doing wrong. “What have you done, Bello?”

  Macy grinned. That was one word she understood. Her grandmother always called her precious. “Nothing too outrageous. But promise me anyway.” A Trent did not go back on their word and both women knew that.

  “I promise I will turn you over my knee –”

  “I can see where Macy gets her stubbornness, signora,” Logan took Macy’s hand entwining their fingers together. “And do not worry, if Macy deserves a spanking, I’ll be sure and give her one. The present is from both of us. Please accept it with all the affection and respect with which it is given.”

  The older woman’s hand fluttered over the rectangular box. “From both of you?”

  “Yes.”

  She threw them one last look before opening the package. A single piece of paper lay in the bottom of the box. Her hands trembled when she picked it up and a string of Italian burst forth, bringing all activity in the kitchen to a halt. Macy’s mother and aunts rushed into the room.

  Alessandra thrust the paper into her daughter’s hands. “Read, my figlio. Read what our Macy has done.”

  Other exclamations followed and soon everyone was pressed inside the small kitchen and living area. Logan had offered to fly any family member who wanted from Italy to Texas in his private jet.

  During the rush of congratulations, Logan pulled Macy to the side of the crowd, eager to get away from the cheek kissing and back slapping he received once everyone heard of Signora Tartaglia’s present. And who was responsible.

  “Perhaps we should have waited until we were all outside.”

  “Perhaps.” Logan wasn’t complaining though. Macy’s firm backside was pressed against his front and the more she wiggled to get out of the way as others pushed through, the more he found he was enjoying himself. Eventually the excitement died down to stunned amazement and the family went back to whatever they had been doing before Macy’s big reveal.

  As the crowd thinned, a loud voice boomed. “Who is the man, Macy? Who is this man who has his hands all over you?”

  Macy’s father stood in front of her. A descendent of Italian-immigrant parents who had moved to Texas in order carve out a better life for their family. Her father came from hardy stock and was a big man. Not as tall as Logan, but his shoulders were actually broader thanks to the heavy physical labor he had done for the last thirty years. In spite of his Italian background, he was Texan through and through.

  “Daddy.” Macy smiled radiantly and stepped into the big man’s arms.

  “Baby girl, you’ve stayed away too long.” He gave her a fierce hug. When she tried to step back into Logan’s embrace, his arms stayed around her shoulders. “Not so fast little girl.”

  Macy sighed. Besides her lack of confidence concerning her looks, this was another major reason why she hadn’t dated much in the past. Her father usually put her sister’s boyfriends through the ringer and then some. It was more than a little uncomfortable to have it happening to her. Now. With Logan.

  “Daddy, this is Logan Quinn, my boss,” she emphasized. “Logan this is my father, Anthony Trent.”

  Logan shook the other man’s hand trying, again, not to grin. “A pleasure to meet you, sir.”

  “Um-hmm. I’ll just bet.”

  Macy could feel the heat of embarrassment flushing her face but Logan didn’t seem the least bit bothered by her father’s remark. She was afraid that if they stood there much longer, the interrogation would begin and then she’d be really mortified. Before he could say anything else, Macy’s mother walked over and gave her husband a swat on the behind with the dishtowel that seemed to be a permanent fixture in her hands.

  “Behave, Tony, or I’ll have to punish you later.” The look she gave her husband was hot enough to melt butter.

  “Mom!” Macy gasped, her tone reflecting her shock at her mother’s behavior.

  Macy received a stern glare and the famous Italian wagging finger.

  “Oh, don’t ‘mom’ me. You gonna stand there and tell me you won’t want this one,” she jerked a thumb toward Logan, “when there’s a little snow on the roof? I don’t think so.”

  Blushin
g to the roots of her hair, Macy was saved a reply when her father grabbed her mother and tugged her toward the kitchen.

  “I am so sorry about that…ohh,” Macy yelped as Logan turned her, pulling her against him and bending his head low.

  “Well?”

  Blinking to clear her head, Macy looked up at the face that would forever be indelibly imprinted on her mind. “Well, what?” she stalled.

  “Will you still want me when there’s snow on the roof?”

  Oh dear Lord. There was just no way to answer that without getting into trouble.

  She laughed, faking a mirth she didn’t feel and hoping he wouldn’t see through her. “I think that unless you’re going gray in two weeks, there won’t be an opportunity to find out.”

  She pulled out of his arms, missing his narrow-eyed look that said he was not satisfied with her answer. “Let’s go get something to eat before it all gets gone.”

  *****

  “A little stunned, are we?” Macy grinned at him as she plucked a piece of fruit from his plate.

  “A little,” he admitted.

  “I warned you.”

  “That you did. But I’m glad I came.”

  “I’m glad too.”

  They fell silent, sharing each other’s food and watching the interaction between Macy’s family. The party had moved outside once the food had been declared ready. It was mixture of both traditional Italian fare along with down home Texas barbeque.

  “How did your families come to be in Texas?” He set their plates aside and leaned back against the trunk of the tree they were sitting under. He pulled her in his arms, nestling her against his chest.

  “My mother’s grandfather couldn’t find work in the city during the depression. He heard they were hiring for cattle drives so he came west so to speak. My father’s grandfather did the same.” She grinned up at him. “Take two Italian ranch hands and you get one hundred percent Texan. Me.”

  “Mmm.” He closed his eyes, feeling more at rest than he’d felt in years.

  “What about you?”

  “What about me?”