Page 37 of Billionaire’s Promise

I had no idea what to expect when I first saw her when we were kids. Lincoln had told me that his geeky little sister wanted to meet me. When I asked him why, he said that she had read a book about crazy Asians and wanted to meet one. Those words still made me chuckle. I wasn’t about to admit that I was crazy – but in this day and age, who wasn’t, at least a little? Only a crazy person would say that they are sane.

When I saw her on her 18th birthday, face all puffy from months and months of crying, my feelings for her changed as my heart melted. I wanted to give her a bear hug and kiss her all over to make things better for her. I wished that I could take away all her pain. I loved women, all kinds of women, including the crazy ones because they were usually really good in bed. But never had I had an urge to kiss someone without thinking about sex first.

If Lincoln hadn’t warned me against making a move on her…that would have been a different story. Crap! He did make me promise not to hit on her.

I guess it was too late. I kind of did hit on her earlier. But he can’t blame me for this. Didn’t he fuck and then marry his sister’s best friend? It was kind of the same, so who was he to lecture me on this?

A night like this shouldn’t be wasted staring at a ceiling. I was here to relax and have fun after all. How could I enjoy myself if my mind was filled with June’s face? With a heavy huff of annoyance, I got out of bed and searched through the laundry basket for my pants that hadn’t been sent out to the cleaner yet. Fishing through the pockets, I found a piece of paper that the sexy flight attendant slipped to me under my coffee. She had made her intention clear that if I ever needed someone to show me New York…Well, let’s just say that I wasn’t interested in seeing New York at this time of the night.

I picked up my phone and sent a message.

“How are you doing?” I imagined Joey’s voice from Friends as I stole his pickup line. It was late but I didn’t really give a fuck, I texted her and decided to leave the rest to fate.

A bubble popped up on my screen. I knew she was interested and typing a reply.

Can’t sleep? I could do with some company.

Straight to the point. I liked her more already.

But it was also way too obvious. Why else would someone text at 3am in the morning, the smarter side of me snapped. I stared at the screen and tried to think of something clever to type – I typed something but deleted it right away. I stopped when I saw that she was typing again.

I can come to you. Send me your address.

Again. Straight to the point. I liked her more and more. But what was her name though? May? Mandy? Something beginning with M.

Truth be told, I was too exhausted from everything that happened over the last few days, but I needed a distraction. And I needed to get June out of my system.

I texted the flight attendant my address. No emoji.

I put on a pair of sweats, not caring how unsexy they felt on me. From my bedroom, I trailed along the hallway until I reached a locked room, scanning my fingerprint on the lock to gain access. The door opened to my playroom.

I had one of these in every property I owned.

It was a kink that I picked up, as I was introduced to a secret high society, where wealthy and powerful people sought joy and pleasure. Where desires were explored without judgment.

Though the playroom wasn’t really my favorite room in the apartment, it had brought me many moments of calm. Letting me unwind and forget – with a fun playmate of course!

I walked past all the leathers and ropes displayed on the wall, then the four post bed until I reached another locked door. It was another smart lock, and I pressed my thumb onto the reader, unlocking the door to a spiral staircase that led downstairs.

* * *

I sat in the apartment downstairs waiting for my friend to arrive. This apartment was a lot smaller with only three bedrooms spread across one floor. Much humbler compared to upstairs, but it was perfect for what I needed it for. A place I could use to meet strangers that I didn’t want to invite into my home. Only Dave knew about this place, so if anything were to happen to me, at least one person on my security would know where to find me.

Fuck. I really wasn’t in the mood for this. Never had I ever thought that this day would come. The day where fucking no longer interested me. What had gotten into me?

I got up from the peach leather sofa and quickly fixed myself a drink, and hopefully my mood. A good whiskey should fix everything for me. It usually did.

Twenty minutes later, the doorbell rang, and I opened the door and greeted the hot blonde who had served me on the plane. She still had her uniform on. Either she hadn’t changed, or she put on the uniform just for me. I wouldn’t blame her, a lot of people had fantasies about those in uniform – that was why dressing up as slutty nurses and hunky firefighters was so popular on Halloween. I didn’t really care what she wore. Not now. Not today.

If I had to guess, she wasn’t a real blonde. Even though I didn’t know much about women’s hair color, something about hers didn’t seem natural.

“Care to give me a tour?” she asked. I answered with a nod and showed her around. No words were exchanged as she examined my place, analyzing my net worth, I’m sure. I wasn’t in a chatty mood, not with her anyway.

“This way, May.” It sounded like a demand, just as I’d intended. I wanted to draw her back to the living room. And to remind her to keep her nose out of my business.

“Melanie.” She rolled her eyes, seeming annoyed that I didn’t remember her name. I couldn’t be responsible for remembering every woman that hit on me, could I?

“Ah, all English names sound the same to me.” That’s right. I shamelessly used our cultural differences to my advantage.