CHAPTER 7
Kelsey
It’s been an interesting month, to say the least. On the one hand, both Trent and the Billionaires Club itself have been totally upfront with respect to expectations. Mainly, that I should have none. The billionaires aren’t looking for relationships, nor are they looking for girlfriends or wives. They’re looking for temporary fixes, meaning plush, nubile females who are willing to open their legs and accept cocks for ungodly sums of money.
Because both Amber and I are working at the Club now. Ever since we completed the training phase, things have taken off at light speed and we spend most of our time at the compound with our respective alpha males. Amber with her guy Roman, and me with Trent. We suckle, we moan, and we let them do anything they want to us for a price.
Because the deposits that have landed in my bank account have been enormous. Before, I made minimum wage at the country club clearing tables and folding towels. A lot of times, it was even less than minimum wage because I’d get docked for all sorts of infractions, from coming in late to accidentally breaking a glass in the dining room.
But with the Billionaires Club, none of that matters because the overall sum is just so huge. We’re paid five thousand dollars per week, and the money hits my bank account with a large thump, almost like a giant piano crashing onto the sidewalk with no way to stop it.
But the thing is that I’m confused. The money’s good, don’t get me wrong, but deep in my heart, I can’t help but feel that I’d do all this for nothing. It doesn’t take five thousand dollars to make me want Trent. It wouldn’t even take five hundred, to tell the truth, because somehow the billionaire has me captured with his smile and the way he brings out the best from me.
Take last week for example. We were sitting in his suite at the club, lounging around without doing much. To my surprise, he unfolded the New York Times and pushed a pair of glasses on his nose before starting on the crossword. I gaped before bursting into merry laughter because no way would I ever have believed my handsome alpha was a crossword addict.
“What is it?” he asked drolly, looking at me from over the rims of his glasses. “What’s so funny?”
“Nothing,” I giggled while looking at him from the bed. I was nude from a hot session, my curves still flushed and rosy, but the sight of Trent’s bronzed body bent over the paper made me even rosier. “I never thought of you as a crossword person, that’s all.”
He crooked an eyebrow at me.
“I like a good brainteaser now and then,” he rumbled. “Why, don’t you?”
I bit my lip, raising myself so that I was at least vertical as I looked at him.
“Well, I’ve never been very academic,” was my confession, “so crosswords are kind of out of my expertise.”
He grunted, rolling his eyes a bit.
“Sweetheart, anyone can do these things. It doesn’t take an Einstein.”
But I shook my head.
“No, I can’t,” was my soft reply. “I was a C student at best, and high school was hard to say the least. I managed to get my GED,” I said with a weak smile. “But even that stressed me out. So a crossword would be near impossible for me.”
Trent looked at me carefully, taking in my curvy form before speaking again.
“Kelsey, you’re a smart girl,” he rumbled. “I know that from the way you’ve commented on current events to the way you talk with me about my interests. Why do you think that you wouldn’t be good at a crossword? Academics are just academics, and grades don’t mean much in the real world. Are you really so unsure of yourself?”
I gulped heavily because in fact, I am a little insecure when it comes to intellect. My whole life people have seen me as a mediocre student at best. A girl who knew how to have fun and was a good friend, but not exactly a straight A student. Far from it, in fact.
“I guess so,” I said in a meek voice. “I guess it just had to do with my family situation. There was always so much going on at home,” I confessed slowly, looking down. “My dad was sick for a while, so it was hard to focus, and then when Mom got laid off after that, we didn’t have much. So I got a part-time job, and then there was no time to study. One thing led to another and before you know it, I’d fallen behind. So much so that I ended up dropping out of high school.”
Trent just looked at me again, still wearing those glasses. I swear, if our conversation hadn’t been so heavy I would have thrown myself in his lap and cried, burying my head against that bronzed chest. And like he could read my mind, the man gestured to me, beckoning with one masculine hand.
In a moment, I was curled on his lap, shoulders heaving.
“I’m sorry,” were my sobs. “I don’t mean to sound pathetic but I guess I kind of am. I’m just not very good at many things,” was my whimper. “But I want to be better, I really do.”
Trent merely stroked my curls, his big hands gentle as he pulled me closer to his male warmth. But then he took my shoulders between two big hands and pushed me away slightly to look into my eyes.
“You’re smart,” he said gruffly, eyes fierce. “Don’t listen to the heaters. Sure, life has dealt you some hard blows, but don’t ever doubt that you’re an intelligent woman.”
I sniffled again, smiling at him through my tears.
“Thanks,” was my soft reply as he cradled me against his chest again. “I appreciate it. It’s just been tough, you know? Sometimes on the outside I’m smiling, but on the inside, it’s hard to keep it together.”
I half expected us to begin another torrid session of love-making but instead, Trent pressed a kiss to my temple before picking up the paper again with determination. And to my shock, he started reading.
“One across,” the man growled. “A sports game played in India. Seven letters.”
I squirmed a bit, burying my face farther into that strong, bronzed throat.
“I can’t,” was my muffled plea. “I don’t know things like this.”
But Trent shook his head, picking up the pen from the table.
“Think about popular sports in India. Surely you know one,” he coaxed.
I thought for a moment.
“Cricket?” I asked hopefully, raising my eyes to meet his gaze. “That’s let’s see … seven letters!” I squealed.
He rewarded me with a kiss on the lips, the contact electric, making my heart beat fast.
“That’s a good guess, sweetheart,” he rumbled, eyes slipping to the paper again. “But I’m gonna say it’s jai alai and not cricket.”
My brows crinkled.
“Jai alai? What’s that?”
He chuckled deep in his throat before placing a gentle kiss on my nose. “It’s a game they play in Pakistan and India a lot, and you often see it as the answer to crossword puzzle clues. You’ll see,” he added mysteriously. “After doing a ton of these things, you get into a rhythm and certain words turn up a lot like “aloe” and “Bowie.””
“Aloe?” I asked, dumbfounded. “Bowie, like David Bowie? Really?”
Trent shot me a knowing grin.
“Yep, aloe. And yes, like David Bowie. You’ll see, pretty girl, mark my words.”
So we went through the first crossword together clue by clue, me on his lap as he read the hints out loud. It was slow going, and I had no idea about most of the answers as Trent filled in the vast majority of the puzzle. But we’ve kept doing them together over the last month, and the alpha male’s instilled a sense of confidence in me. Although I’m nowhere near as good as Trent, these days I can get at least thirty percent of the answers, and delight when one of my words is actually right.
“Bo Derek,” I said proudly. “She’s the one who was in Perfect Ten.”
Trent grinned at me over his glasses before filling in the boxes with his pen.
“Sweetheart, that’s absolutely right,” he rumbled. “And the movie was 10, not Perfect Ten.”
I shrieked with laughter as he dragged me onto his lap again, kissing my cleavage as I struggled in his grasp.
“Well, I’m not as old as you, so I don’t know the names of these ancient movies,” I said with a saucy lilt. “You know you’re ancient, right?”
A gleam flashed in those penetrating blue eyes.
“Oh I’ll show you ancient,” Trent growled, biting my nipple through my thin shirt and making me gasp. “You’re gonna see what this old bugger can do.”
As to be expected, our crossword puzzle devolved into another hot round of sex, his cock buried tight in my tiny pussy as I mewled and squealed, taking every inch of that thick pole.
“Oh just like that!” was my delighted gasp as he filled me up, boobies bobbling as that thick fuckshaft made its entrance once more. “Right there, unnh yeah, right there.”
But this time, Trent wasn’t just sticking to my pussy. He flipped me around so that I was on my hands and knees and eased his length into my cunt again.
“You like that?” he rasped as I moaned rapturously, burying my face in the pillows. “You like getting Daddy’s dick into your cunt?”
I squealed as he pushed even deeper, his tip reaching almost to the back of my throat.
“Say you like it,” he commanded harshly. “Tell me you want it.”
I let go then, my cunt clamping down on his dick as it dissolved into a series of tremors, ecstasy flowing over my soul.
“I want it!” I cried out, face a rictus of pleasure. “Oh god, yes, Trent! Give it to me!”
And with that, the man exploded, filling me with hot jets of seed as my pussy milked him hard. Spurt after spurt of virile semen sprayed my pink channel, the spasms of my cunt drawing that baby batter even deeper inside.
“Yes,” was my breathless moan, breasts squashed against the mattress as he drained his balls into my twitching twat. “Yes, just like that.”
But Trent always has a surprise for me because after it was over, he slowly pulled out, inch after inch of that glorious monster reappearing between my cheeks. He’d filled me with so much cum that a bit welled up from my hole and slid down my thigh, making me shiver. But Trent was on it. The dark man bent his head and licked the tangy rivulet, swallowing his own sperm.
“Cream pie always tastes good,” he rasped hoarsely. “Especially when it’s hot and fresh from a woman’s cunt.”
I shivered again, about to say something, but what the billionaire did next made me shriek. Because he trailed his mouth up to my anus and pressed a kiss there before rubbing my pleats with his hand.
“What are you doing?” I squealed, trying to get away. “Stop, stop! It’s dirty there.”
But Trent merely dropped his head, pressing another kiss to my dark hole.
“No part of you is dirty,” he rasped hoarsely. “Every single inch of you tastes good, sweetheart.”
And with that, I melted under his caresses as that big dick worked its way into my tiny asshole. Because the billionaire does that to me. I know we’re not a couple. I know at some level that he’s just paying me for some temporary hot fun. But at the same time, it feels like there’s so much more at play. He makes me feel sexy, beautiful, and confident, not just about my body, but with respect to my mind too. So how can I not fall in love? How can I resist the magnificence that’s Trent Jones? Even though I know I’m going to be hurt, it’s already too late … because I’m head over heels in love with the alpha male, and there’s nothing that can be done to stop it.