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The Surgeon’s Secrets: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance by Michelle Love, Celeste Fall (22)


NATASHA

Deep in sleep, I could feel the vibration of my phone underneath me. I lifted my head up, groggily, blowing out a deep breath as I looked to see who was interrupting my sleep.

It was an unknown number, so I pressed the ignore button. But the asshole on the other end didn’t give a flying rat’s ass about my rest as the phone rang again.

“Hello,” I yelled into the phone, annoyed. I was not a happy camper when it came to my sleep being interrupted.

“That is no way to talk to your master, now is it, Natasha.” His low husky tone gave me pause. My heart fluttered at just the sound of his voice. “Are you there?” he asked.

I swallowed, slowly. “Yes, I’m here,” I said softly. “I didn’t know it was you calling. I wouldn’t have yelled. I am sorry about that, Nic.” Then I freaked that I had called him something he hadn’t told me too and waited to get told not to ever call him that again.

“Nic?” he said with an odd sound to his deep voice. “Okay, I’ll allow that. Dinner is at 8 so you have an hour before my driver picks you up. Be prompt, I don’t like to wait.” And then he just hung up. No, goodbye. No, I miss you. Nothing sweet at all!

“And fuck you too,” I said as the phone was still up to my ear as I sat dumbfounded by his abrupt rudeness. He was giving me whiplash with the constant change in his mood.

I mean I knew rich people had attitudes out of this world but damn, he took the whole damn cake!

I had never been around someone with such an absurd manner. Maybe his parents didn’t raise his bratty ass right on how to treat people. But I wasn’t in the profession of teaching an old dog new tricks. Not that Nicholai Grimm was old in the least.

He was young. One of the youngest billionaires at the BBC. There were a few others but most were old as salt.

It was his demeanor that made him seem older than he was. He had a way about him as if he’d been groomed by another old asshole. His father came to mind.

I had to wonder about his life. The man wanted no type of a real relationship. He liked sex and sex only. Women obviously were put on this earth to serve one purpose in his narrowed vision. Make men happy. Poof! End of subject!

And there I was, climbing my tired ass out of my comfy little bed to climb into a shower to go eat with this pompous ass. And for what reason did I have to jump for him?

None!

Absolutely nothing was making me do any of it. The internship paid so little, it amounted to a hill of beans. It was the experience you grew rich from, not actual paper money. He’d yet to buy me anything more than naughty things. I had no jewels, no cash in my bra the way Dani said I would.

A pat on the ass, a hundred in your bra, was her lie to get me to go with her to that damn club. BBC shouldn’t be the code for anything to get into that place. It should be BDSM and plenty of it.

It was upscale, that was for sure. But it still had all the makings of the shadiest clubs where people practiced that stuff. That stuff that I let him do to me. I let him shackle my ass. I let him spank my ass. And I suppose I let him brand me.

My foggy memory of that happening kind of rekindled a memory of him slapping that on me without asking me a damn thing!

Yet there I was, shampooing my hair and shaving my body all up, in hopes he would feed me then fuck me into oblivion. I found myself wondering if that was how whores felt.

Had I been turned into a whore, merely by the man’s emotionless fucking? Had I become a woman I would think so little of? And would I continue down that path?

I knew that road was not for me. I knew it all along. But the promise of getting to feel him slam into me with that raw power he had was something I couldn’t stop wanting. Fuck, I needed it!

After the shower, I got out and did very little to myself. I figured we’d probably eat, fuck like animals then he’d send me home in his car. Why get too fancy?   

I had pulled on a robe and was about to start the process of drying my hair when the doorbell rang. With frustration, I slapped the wall in anger. “I’m coming,” I yelled as the doorbell sounded once again.

If he was there already, I was going to give him what for. That man was all about being punctual. If that was him ringing my bell, he was early. 

Passing through my bedroom I looked outside to see a black Tahoe parked at the curb. I checked the time on the clock on the bedside table and it read 7:15. He was early, very early!

As I looked through the peephole, Dani’s bedroom door swung open. “It’s for me, Tasha.” She rushed to the door trying to zip her red cocktail dress. “Can you zip me?” She stopped in front of me. “Hold on please,” she yelled at the person on the other side of the door.

“Where are you going?” I asked.

“I have another party tonight so I won’t be in until late. Don’t wait up for me.” She turned around with a red lipstick stained smile. “I can’t believe you got branded your first night there and I can’t find a rich man to keep me after three years of going to these things.”

“Yeah, lucky me,” I said with words laced with heavy sarcasm. “Have fun.”

After returning to my bedroom, I went to my closet to find a nice dress to wear that night. My options were limited but I had no time to rummage through my clothes to find something appropriate. Since Dani was gone, I went to her room and found a nice gold colored cocktail dress that had a deep plunge in the back. It hugged my curves snugly, which I loved.

Not able to wear a bra with the dress, I also opted out of wearing panties since the dress was too tight and you would see the lines. Although I hated thongs, I knew I would have to compromise and buy a few pairs. If I was going to be going to naughty parties with Nic, it would become a necessity.

After primping for a while, I pulled my hair up in spiral curls, letting them fall down the left side of my shoulder, my brand was exposed. There wasn’t a need for much makeup except for some gold and black eyeshadow. I applied some lip gloss to give my plump lips a nicer look.

I put on a pair of gold Zanotti heels Dani had bought me for my birthday last year. My look was complete with a gold clutch which held just my phone, identification, and credit card just in case. Nic had a tendency of pissing me off, if need be, I would take a taxi home.

It was 8 o’clock sharp when my phone vibrated, I knew it was him. “Hello,” I said into the phone.

“The car awaits you,” he said, hanging up on me, yet again. Taking a few deep breaths, I walked out to find a black Range Rover waiting with a driver at the back door.

“Good evening, Ms. Greenwell.” The driver gave me a smile as he opened my door.

I nodded. “Thank you.” Then got into the truck to find it empty. I shook my head in utter disbelief that he didn’t have the decency to come get me himself. “So rude,” I huffed.

Instead of being a party pooper, I left well enough alone and just summed it up to this being who he was. The ride was a long one as he took me out of the city, to Manhattan.

We stopped at a building that had an immaculate lawn and grand fountain. I looked in awe as the architecture was marvelous. I had never dreamt of standing outside of such a building, let alone going into it.

The door soon opened and the driver handed me a mask and a note. “You must read the note and follow the instructions,” he said, reaching out for my hand. He tied the mask over my eyes for me, putting me back in a position of anonymity, I felt was no longer necessary.

As I walked into the lobby, there was a bellhop and a receptionist who was dressed in a pantsuit with her brown hair pulled nicely into a tight bun. I opened the note. ‘Go to the counter and let Mary know you are here to see me.’

I crumpled the note up and did as instructed and went to the desk. “Good evening, Mary. I’m here to see Nicholai.” I gave her a pleasant smile but felt stupid with the mask on.

“Ms. Greenwell, a pleasure. You must follow the instructions. The elevator is to your left.” She handed me another note.

“Thank you.” I walked in the direction of the elevators.

Once I pressed the button, I could see the elevator through the double panes of glass. I opened the note. ‘Take the elevator to floor 32, knock three times.’

I chuckled as I thought about the ridiculous secret knocking. It was just like the party. I was just glad there wasn’t any password or I’d fail, miserably.

I stepped into the elevator and rode it to the 32nd floor, as instructed. “Natasha, you better be on your best behavior.” I tried giving myself a pep talk. I knew when I was around him there was no self-control, at least not on my part.

The doors opened to a small hall with just one door on the entire floor. I walked over to it and knocked three times as the note said to. I fumbled with my fingers as I shifted my weight from one hip to the other.

Before the door opened, I took a small breath to knock the edge off. It opened swiftly by who I guessed was his personal doorman. “Ms. Greenwell, Mr. Grimm awaits you.” He gave me a smile, stepping aside to let me in.

I was in a trance as I saw the décor of his home. It was feminine yet it had a bachelor feel to it. I couldn’t see the hard-edged man living in such a place.

Who was Nicholai Grimm, really?

 

NICHOLAI

I loved to see her face and how her eyes lit up when she was at a loss for words. She hadn’t seen me when she walked in as her attention was on the décor.

I stood, gazing out the window when she arrived. “Would you like a drink,” I asked her as I took a sip of my bourbon.

She searched around for me, trying to see what direction my voice was coming from until her eyes fell on me. It was becoming more obvious to me, she needed more than just reading glasses.

I walked over to meet her as she came further into the room. “A glass of wine would be great. Thank you,” she said with a soft tone to her sweet voice.

So much was sweet about Natasha. She wore a gold dress that wasn’t her style at all. She was pulling it off, don’t get me wrong, but she looked like a woman who would be more at home in elegant clothing. I made a mental note to purchase her some attire that was more fitting for her.

“You can have a seat,” I said as I made my way to the wine chiller at the full bar in the main living area.

She was looking around more as I went to the bar. When I walked back toward her with her glass of wine in hand, she took a seat on the white leather love seat. Right in the center of it, which I found a little amusing.

“Thank you, your house is very nice. I would’ve expected something with a bit of a harder edge to it, like yourself. You know, black leather, perhaps a set of shackles in that corner over there,” she said with a grin and a wink then took a sip of the very expensive wine.

I untied her mask, taking it off and placing it on her lap. “Well, I’m not into everything everyone else is. But you will soon see that.” I turned on my heels to go back and get the box that held the papers that would cement our deal. “I wanted to see you for both business and pleasure tonight. We have a bond agreement that needs to be signed and I will run over the rules. Understood?”

I watched her as she seemed to be weighing things up in her mind. I was unsure if she was going to sign the papers I'd had the BBC draw up for us.

The way it made me feel off kilter was startling to me. I had never cared if any one of the subs in the past signed or not. I could easily find another who would.

Her demeanor was off-putting and had me nearly wringing my damn hands with a nervousness, the likes I had never known.

I was standing there, with the damn box in one hand and a pen in the other and I didn’t know what the hell to say or what I’d do if she simply refused. That was not like me. Not like me at all!