Seducing the Billionaire: The Complete Series

By Lexy Harper

All she needs to do is seduce the man whose heart she once broke.

Held under virtual house arrest by Matthew Reynolds, her late father's business partner, Natasha Wainwright is offered a chance of freedom if she's willing to act as a spy on his rival, enigmatic billionaire Remington Ross.

Natasha desperately wants to be free of the much-older, ruthlessly controlling man, but Remington is the last man on earth she wants to tangle with. Ten years ago she gave him her virginity and then broke off their relationship without explanation. They haven't seen each other or spoken since, but she has avidly followed his meteoric rise to the top.

Seducing the billionaire is the only way to get close enough to obtain the information Matthew requires, but to uncover Remington's secrets she risks revealing secrets of her own, including one he is not likely to forgive her for.

Walking away again would be more than her bruised heart can bear, but Matthew is not a man to be trifled with. He will retaliate, if double crossed. Can Remington keep her safe from a man who’s not afraid to fight dirty and will go to extreme lengths to exact his revenge?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Lexy Harper
• Release date: May 27, 2018

Lexy Harper

Lexy Harper's books have ranked at the top of the Bestselling Erotica charts and are written in British English. She wrote her first erotic short story in 2005 as an outlet for her filthy imagination and within months had completed the 22 stories which make up her Bedtime Erotica collections. Written specifically for lovers of explicit erotica, these stories are hardcore, plot driven and often humorous. For the less sexually adventurous, she reveals her tender side in her romance novels which can be identified by the gold stripe on the left. Erotica books have a black stripe and transgender a cerise.Sign up for Lexy's newsletter: http://eepurl.com/Lf3vbVisit her website: https://lexyharper.com/Follow her on Twitter: @Lexy_HarperJoin her on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/lexy.harperCheck out her FB Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/LexyHarperAuthor

Book preview

Seducing the Billionaire: The Complete Series

Lexy Harper

Copyright 2013 by Lexy Harper

Smashwords Edition

Lexy

Harper

Seducing the Billionaire:

The Complete Series

All characters in this publication are fictitious and any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

The text of this publication or any part thereof may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, storage in an information retrieval system, or otherwise, without the written permission of the publisher or author, except for brief quotes used in reviews.

Copyright © 2013 Lexy Harper

All Rights Reserved.

Ebonique Publishing

Lexy's website

Sign up for Lexy's Newsletter

Lexy on Facebook

Lexy on Goodreads

Lexy on Twitter.

For Shauntayo, forever young.

CONTENTS

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Epilogue

Author’s Note

Other titles by Lexy Harper

Chapter One

I kept my eyes closed and moaned as strong hands roamed my body, first my nipples, tweaking them firmly until they were standing erect as proof that I desired him, then they moved down to the junction of my thighs and dipped into my honeypot in search of nectar. More proof that I was here because I wanted him and not because I was tied to him by a contract I’d signed when I was not of legal age to do so.

My mother used to say that you can get used to anything if you put your mind to it. With the arrogance of youth I had doubted her at the time, but after eight years, five months and eleven days of having his hands touch me, I’ve become resigned to my fate. It helps that I imagine younger, stronger hands in place of his and a lithe, hairless chest pressing against mine instead of the grey mat I wanted to trim or shave…or pluck out strand by strand.

So wet for Daddy. The rumble of his voice was indicative of the size of the man: a bear and covered in hair. I believe in the Bible and all its teachings, but presented with specimens such as the man positioning himself at my entrance and about to thrust himself inside me, roughly so that I have to cry out in pain as he likes me to, I find it hard to believe that apes weren’t our forefathers—or at least his. So wet and eager for Daddy’s cock and still as tight as a little virgin.

Any woman would feel tight given your nine-inch salami, you hairy mammoth!

Just one session with Matthew would cure any woman with a craving for a well-endowed man. I forced my body to relax as he started pounding into me, full strokes from tip to base.

Thankfully he wouldn’t last long; the one thing the man, who needed to control everyone and everything around him, couldn’t control was his ejaculation. He was the poster child for premature ejaculators, but at fifty-five you would think that he would have mastered the art.

Your tight pussy is going to make Daddy come quickly, baby.

And of course, something or someone else was always to blame for his failure or inadequacy.

***

You’ve been holding out on me, babygirl.

Why do you say that? I asked wondering what he would do if he knew just how much I kept from him.

You didn’t tell me that you know Remington Ross.

My heartbeat thundered in my ears. For a moment I couldn’t hear anything above it. Oh shit! Had I spoken the name aloud when I’d come? The one thing Matthew had going for him was the ability to eat pussy. His big tongue felt good pushed deep inside me. But, I realized with a breath of relief, my earlier orgasm had been low key—pleasant but not earth shattering. I hadn’t even moaned.

We were in the same class in secondary school, but I haven’t seen him in years, I explained. Well, not outside the television and my dreams.

Daddy needs to know that kind of information, babygirl, Matthew reprimanded, lifting my chin to stare into my eyes. I’ve been talking for months about going up against that bastard for the government gold contract and you didn’t think to tell me that you know him personally?

I don’t know him personally, I protested. I couldn’t just call him up and have a conversation! If we met in the street he would probably walk straight past me.

Remington would certainly do that, but not because he had become too elevated to talk to common folk like me. He was furious with me long before he made his first million.

Don’t be so modest, babygirl. Matthew’s fingers tightened on my chin. I tried hard not to wince to give him the satisfaction. I spoke to one of your old classmates and he told me that you two were hot for each other.

Matthew, that was ten years ago. The man has probably since had more girlfriends than I’ve had hot dinners!

"He the one?"

Yes. I could have played for time and asked which ‘one’ he meant, but the topic was the reoccurring theme of our weekly sessions: the fact that I wasn’t a virgin when Matthew and I had first slept together three months after my seventeenth birthday; the fact that he’d thought he was getting unspoiled goods when he’d paid for my mother’s cancer treatment in the US and had me sign a contract of ‘pussy on tap’ for ten years or until I repaid the money in full. He would waive the interest, he’d told me, smiling magnanimously as if he’d expected me to thank him. I hadn’t since he would have been enjoying my young pussy instead of the interest in the time it took me to earn or save the money.

You let that fucking bastard take what was mine!

I steeled myself for the blow I knew was coming, but it still rocked my head backwards against the headboard. Some men don’t know their own strength. Matthew’s one of them. He was born centuries too late. He was built to be hunting wildebeest on the Serengeti and wrestling with the odd lion which crossed his path. "Why didn’t you tell me that he was the fucker who popped your cherry?"

Matt, it was long before you, I lied, tentatively flexing my jaw and hoping that it wasn’t going to be noticeably swollen as it had been five months ago when he had given me the previous ‘love tap’ as he liked to call them. It was just one time.

One time? Matthew laughed and hugged me against him. The little fucker obviously didn’t have what it takes to keep my babygirl satisfied.

I snuggled my head onto his shoulder and he snickered, taking the action as confirmation of his statement, as I had meant him to.

At sixteen, Remington was ten times a better fuckman than you, you overgrown jackass!

No, don’t go to sleep. He shook me as I settled against him, intending to lull him to sleep by faking sleep myself. I have a little proposition for you.

What now?

Yes? I didn’t want to sound eager, but I had to show a little enthusiasm or risk another backhanded slap.

If you can get close enough to Ross to get some information I need, I will consider your debt to me repaid in full.

I would walk on hot coals to be free of the ruthlessly controlling bastard, but take on Remington? I wouldn’t waste my time—the man was too far out of my league.

Matt, there’s no way I could even make an appointment to see Remy, much less get close to him.

Remy? Is that your little pet name for him? Matthew asked casually, but his hand tightened in my shoulder-length hair until a few strands ripped free. Babygirl, don’t underestimate the power of your tight pussy. I’d thought that I would get bored within a year, but eight years on and I still find myself impatiently waiting for Wednesday.

Wednesday: the day his wife Maude chairs the Women’s Group meeting at Mount Caramel, the local Pentecostal church.

Are you saying that you want me to sleep with him? Matthew didn’t share. He was an only child—his mother had probably taken one look at him and decided one of him was enough—so he hadn’t learned the skill.

It wouldn’t be the first time, he reminded me. Another couple of strands were torn out. "This government gold deal is big, babygirl. Bigger than anything Daddy has ever handled and the only person standing in my way is that fucker Ross."

Matthew, the man lives in the States. How would I get to meet him?

Don’t worry about that, babygirl. Daddy will set you up not far from his apartment and his main office in Manhattan. Tenders have to be in for February. That gives you three months to work your magic on him.

Oh God, I would kill for three months in the USA! Three months away from the gorilla. Three months of seeing my little sweetie whenever possible.

Matthew, I don’t think your plan would work. I blinked back the tears the admission caused. It would have been sheer heaven, but Remy wouldn’t allow me to get within one hundred metres of him if he had any say in the matter.

Hear me out, babygirl. This contract is worth at least ten billion dollars. Fifty million US dollars I calculated mentally, using the two-hundred-to-one street value of the local currency to the American dollar. Remy had done far better with his contract, but the government had wised up since he had opened their eyes to the literal ‘goldmine’ they had right under their noses. I’m willing to spend money to get that money. I will give you enough to get yourself some pretty things while you’re there.

What will you do for company while I’m over there? I didn’t give a fuck what he did. I just didn’t want him visiting me unexpectedly.

Don’t pretend you won’t enjoy the break. I wrapped my hand around his paw and brought it to my lips to kiss his knuckles before he created a bald spot in the middle of my head. As it happens I’ve just got my hands on a pair of young twins. They should keep me occupied.

My stomach roiled. Most men saying the word ‘young’ would most likely be referring to girls over sixteen, Guyana’s legal age of consent. With Matthew, one would be foolish to automatically make that assumption.

What happens if I fail to make contact with Remington?

I know you won’t fail, babygirl. You’ve been desperately saving your money to buy yourself out of our contract even now with only sixteen months to go.

I’m not saving that money to get out of the contract, I denied. Not anymore. The day after New Year’s Day I’d checked my bank account after year-end interest had been added and found that I was still fifty-one thousand dollars short of the amount I needed. I had then asked God for the serenity to accept the things I couldn’t change. "If I did go to America, I would need a guarantee that you’re not going to add the time I spend there onto the contract and extend it."

As he had done before when I had delayed coming back to him.

I’m feeling generous and you deserve a break. The twins must be young indeed. Winning this contract would help me legitimize some funds I have and make me the richest man in Guyana. And the only person standing in my way is that young pup who’s still wet behind the fucking ears.

I’ll sign the new contract as soon as you draw it up? If I didn’t distract him, he would go into a long tirade about Remy, who was everything Matthew was not—young, good looking and respected.

You don’t trust Daddy, babygirl?

I trusted my daddy, although he unwittingly brought a wolf like you into our home. You are not my fucking father!

It’s not a matter of trust, Matt. You know as well as I do that business should be conducted properly. Look at what happened to my father, I reminded him.

On my father’s death, Matthew had claimed that Dad hadn’t drawn up proper contracts with the men operating their gold mining equipment. As a result even as his business partner, Matthew was unable to recover their assets. They had both lost everything they had invested, Matthew had claimed, but unlike Dad, he hadn’t invested everything he owned in the supposed-to-be low-risk venture. He had still had enough to magnanimously pay my father’s funeral cost and pay off the mortgage on our house, allowing us to pay a monthly rent to him instead. I couldn’t fault Matthew’s generosity. It was just that I always thought that he could afford to be generous to us with money that was rightfully ours anyway. Money he had swindled from my father which I had no way of proving.

You’re sharp, babygirl. That’s what I like about you. I was still holding his hand, or that might have been a few more strands of hair ripped out of my head. I’ll have the contract typed up and emailed it to you. Sign it and send it back.

He should have been as keen for a new contract to be drawn up between us, stating the terms explicitly. The last time he had omitted an important clause—that I had to come to him a virgin—I had deliberately made him pay for the omission.

I have to go, babygirl. He got off the bed. It groaned in relief. He wasn’t a fat man, but easily weighed in at close to three hundred pounds. Six-foot-five of muscle and brawn made up the bulk of that weight, but at least five pounds of it was body hair. Maude wasn’t feeling too good today, so she stayed home from church. I’d better go see how she’s doing.

I hope she’s feeling better. Auntie Maude, the woman who used to take me shopping when I was younger, just so she could buy me pretty, girly things as she’d had two strapping boys. I hadn’t seen her in almost nine years. Not since she tried to persuade me to join the family for Christmas. I politely declined, especially since she kept insisting that I would make a wonderful daughter-in-law. Fucking one Reynolds was more than enough for me.

She’ll be fine. And by the way, don’t get any ideas when you get to the States now, Matthew warned. He raised his foot to step into his boxers and his cock smacked against his thigh. It was almost the same length flaccid as it was erect. Not a pleasant sight. I looked up and caught his gaze as he reminded me, I have people over there who can reach out and touch you, if needs be.

By ‘touch’ he meant ‘strangle’, ‘knife’ or ‘shoot’ me.

I knew he had ‘people’ in the States—they ran his drug empire over there. It was the only reason I hadn’t run when I’d had the chance ten years ago.

***

Chapter Two

Travelling to America always reminds me of travelling there for the first time with my mother when I was sixteen. She’d sat beside me in a roomy First Class seat, dressed in her usual elegant fashion and looking serene. No one seeing her would have realized that her body was being attacked by an aggressive lymphoma. Neither would they have realized that the innocent-looking sixteen-year-old at her side was no longer as innocent as she looked.

Scared at the thought of losing another parent in one nightmare year, I had gone to beg Matthew Reynolds, my father’s ex-business partner to pay for my mother to be treated in the States when the Guyanese doctors had shaken their heads sadly and said that it was too late to save her. Of course, he would, Matthew had answered promptly, if I was willing to do something in return. Naively I’d said I would do anything, not for a moment thinking that a forty-five-year-old man would have a sexual interest in a girl of my age. He had soon set me straight. Disgust had filled me when I’d realized that his accidental touches against my budding breasts and my rounding backside hadn’t been so accidental after all.

He’d given me a day to think about it.

That night when Remington had come around after a game of basketball with his friends, my mother was already in bed, worn out by life and the cancer inside her, I had taken his hand and led him up to my bedroom, and given him without him asking, what he had begged and pleaded for since we had started dating at fourteen.

And then I’d told him our relationship was over and I never wanted to see him again.

He’d cried and apologized for hurting me.

Because I couldn’t tell him the truth, I’d let him leave thinking that the tiny amount of blood I’d lost was due to his clumsiness and lack of experience.

The next day when I’d gone to Matthew’s office to sign the contract and seal the deal, I had been violently sick at the thought of his hands on my body. I must have looked awful on my return from the bathroom because he decided that I could go home and get some rest before the long flight the next day. We would have plenty of time when my mother and I returned in three months’ time.

Less than three months later, my mother was dead.

I begged him to let me stay with my aunt in Brooklyn, until I felt ready to return. He had agreed another three months’ stay, but hadn’t been quite as agreeable when I begged him for another two quarterly extensions. Any thought of not ever returning was quickly quashed when a menacing-looking man had approached me as I returned from the local supermarket almost a year to the date of my being in New York.

I have a message from the boss. He’d grabbed my arm in a grip so tight it had left a bruise for weeks.

I don’t know what you’re talking about. I’d tried to pretend that I was someone else, but the fear in my voice would have given me away even if he hadn’t reached into his pocket and pulled out the photograph Matthew had given to him.

Here’s the ticket for your flight on Friday. He’d thrust an envelope into my trembling hand. If you don’t catch it I will break into your aunt’s house the same night and kill anything with a pulse, including her dogs.

I’d known all along that there would have been no escaping my debt to Matthew barring my death or his, so I had fervently prayed for his demise or at least an accident that left him with amnesia. Even now I shudder when I think back to the way I’d cold bloodedly wished for God to eradicate him and my obligation to him from this earth. Of course, He hadn’t obliged me; according to the Bible He created all creatures and loved them equally, even Matthew.

Having no other choice, I’d returned to Guyana, to a house filled with memories to begin the first day of the remaining nine years of the contract I’d signed with the devil. Or so I’d naively thought. Since we