The Billionaire At My Whim
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About this ebook
Seven years ago Lana witnessed her neighbor brutally beat his son, Joseph. Fearing for Joseph's life she helped him escape, driving him out of town in the dead of night. Now he's back, gorgeous, rich, and powerful, and Lana finds herself drawn to him, but in ways she's never been drawn to a man before. She feels a certain power over him, a pull knowing that he is hers, and Joseph seems to recognize it as well. He is, simply, at her whim.
Sneak Peek:
I hadn't thought about Joey Purdue in almost six years, and yet here he stood, all six foot four inches of thickly corded muscle. Joey. His sandy brown hair which had always been prone to too much frizzy curl was waved gently back from his face, showing beautiful gray eyes. I marveled at how steadily they captured me, no longer skittish and timid as they had been in high school. I don't know why but I was shocked to see that there were no bruises or marks on his healthily tanned skin. His full lips quirked into a smile.
He was simply oozing sex. And power. That shocked me, the meek boy I'd known standing inside this tall and powerful man. I just knew he was capable. Whether it was the firm set of his large raised-on-a-farm shoulders, or the expensive, probably Italian, tailored suit coat on top of designer jeans, he just was confident.
“Lana Goodwin,” he said with an alarmingly charming smile. “I didn't expect to see you here.”
I blushed. Why did I blush? I have no clue, but I did, bright red and all over my face and down my neck to the top of my breasts as they peaked out of my flirty polka dot apron. Harry, Harry, Harry. I thought, trying to remember my boyfriend, trying to drop the powerful desire to flirt that wrapped me.
***Warning: This short story of 14,335 words is a sexy bdsm piece and contains sexually graphic situations. It should be enjoyed by only those 18 and older.***
Lesa Fuchs-Carter
Lesa is a writer of erotic fiction, often considered "too sexy" she has over 50 titles in a wide variety including everything from sweet romance novellas to paranormal short stories. She enjoys pushing the limits and playing out her fantasies on paper.
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The Billionaire At My Whim - Lesa Fuchs-Carter
The Billionaire at
My Whim
By Lesa Fuchs-Carter
Copyright © 2018 by Lesa Fuchs-Carter
All rights reserved. Please do not reproduce, print, or otherwise distribute without prior written permission of the author.
This short story is fiction. All names, characters, companies, incidents, places, etc. are from the author's imagination, or are used in a fictitious manner. Any similarities to actual events, places, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The content of this eBook contains sexually explicit and graphic situations and is intended for persons over the age of 18. All characters portrayed in sexual acts are 18 years of age or older.
Edited By Ember Rose.
Cover designed by Lesa Fuchs-Carter. Photo used with permission from Can Stock Photo - Arturkurjan.
Thank you for downloading this ebook. If you enjoyed this book, please encourage your friends to download their own copy from their favorite authorized retailer. Thank you for your support.
For new releases, comments, or to connect with the author, visit: www.LesaFuchsCarter.com.
That night was by far the worst of my life.
It was a warm spring night and my window was open letting the air in. The scent of the freshly tilled earth ready for my dad to plant this week and the cattle from the Purdue farm carried on the breeze.
I couldn't sleep, but there was no real reason for it. I lay in my bed on top of the yellow and white quilt my mother and grandmother had made me for my tenth birthday watching the shadows dance through the gauzy curtains. They made the water in the mason jar full of daisies on my dresser cast glitter against the pale yellow walls. A teddy bear nearly as big as me rested in the rocking chair my daddy had made my mom when they'd found out she was pregnant with me.
And then I'd heard it. Shouting. I bolted upright, my world was too peaceful to hear it often, I crawled to the foot of my bed and looked out across the field. From my vantage point I could see Mr. George Purdue shoving Joey, his son and my senior by two months, down his front steps.
I squinted in the low light. Joey was almost naked, wearing only boxer shorts. What was going on?
Jerk it boy, yank on that cock and fuck yourself!
I gasped, hearing the words, but young enough and innocent enough I didn't understand then he was upset about masturbation. I was still in high school, but despite the stereotype of the girl next door and the fact that I was a popular and pretty girl I was a good girl first and foremost. I'd never had sex and never heard much about masturbating-just the word and that it was naughty. I was sixteen by a month and three days, but still I didn't know much about any of it.
Mr. Purdue was down the steps after Joey while my head rolled the words. I had only heard the f-word a few times, and never in that context. Mr. Purdue kicked hard into Joey's ribs and my hand flew to my mouth. I knew that the Purdues were not good people, at least not George and Millie. Mr. Purdue had a temper famous throughout the county, sharp tongued and hostile he'd once sent one of his cattle drivers to the hospital for letting
one of his herd break her leg. Millie, Joey's mom, was a drunk. Plain and simple, I couldn't remember a time when I'd seen her fully sober, even at church. She brought her own mimosas to Sunday Brunch.
Joey was crawling away from his furious father, trying to keep out of reach of his kicking feet. Mr. Purdue was a big man, big and mean.
I liked Joey as a friend, even if he was made fun of for being shy, we'd been close as kids, but were estranged now. I could see before Joey could that he was being herded into the barn, and that scared me. What if Mr. Purdue killed him?
With my heart pounding in my chest I climbed out of bed and grabbed a pair of my jeans, yanking them on, not bothering to change my pink baby-doll nightie for a different shirt. I didn't even bother to put on shoes. I crept silently down the stairs, trembling as I snuck out of the kitchen, careful to skip over the creaky spot in the hall and being gentle with the screen door. Once outside I sprinted down our dirt lane and across the road onto the Purdue farm.
I wasn't letting myself think it through, my heart was pounding, but I had to see. I had to make sure he didn't kill him. Though in truth, looking back, if