The Billionaire’s Kitten

And the brunette shook her head again, tears in her eyes.

“No, I’m not having anything to do with you,” she said, voice slightly trembling. “Now where are my shoes? Help me find my shoes.”

But I wasn’t about to let her go so easily. I shrugged my shoulders, the picture of relaxation even if my heart pumped like a madman in my chest. Everything hung on this girl.

“Beats me. But what if I said I could make you a rich woman? Say thirty grand for a month of work?”

Kitty wouldn’t meet my eyes, still looking frantically around the room.

“Shoes, shoes, shoes,” she murmured, “Shoes.”

I chuckled again.

“Baby girl, like I said, thirty grand for one month’s work. And I’d even let you go on with your life if you wanted. You could keep going to school, keep going to classes, heck, even keep working here if you wanted. Of course, there’d be no more waitressing, but if you wanted to get a back office job, I’m sure we could find you something to do at the Milano.”

Kitty wasn’t listening, still looking around frantically.

“Shoes,” she murmured. “Shoes.”

I sighed.

“Sixty grand then,” I rumbled. “Sixty grand for a month of your time. That’s two g’s a day baby girl, two thousand dollars. Think about what you could do with it.”

That caught her attention. The brunette’s chin jerked up, those big brown eyes catching mine.

“I don’t know why you think I’m a slut,” she said in a low voice. “But it’s a no go. I’m not doing it.”

My eyebrows raised.

“Not even for sixty thou? Fine then. One hundred for a month’s work. One hundred thousand dollars for a month of your time.”

But the girl wasn’t persuaded.

“No, I can’t. I can’t do anything else with you because look what we’ve done already,” she said in a low voice, gesturing to her barely clad figure. Shit, she was spectacular, those big boobies jiggling, the sweet vee between her thighs beckoning once again. But the girl wasn’t done yet. “Because it’s you, I’m sure it’s something dirty and nasty,” she said in a low voice. “I’m sure it’s disgusting.”

I held both my hands up, like she’d read my mind.

“Of course it’s dirty and nasty,” I rumbled. “Because I’m a dirty, nasty motherfucker. But you’d be doing me a favor if you took this job,” I said persuasively. “Think about it baby girl. Don’t you want to help a man in need?”

At the word “help,” Kitty turned towards me. I almost laughed out loud. Of course, my girl has a good heart and the opportunity to assist another human being was like a bell in her head, propelling her into action.

“Help how?” she asked in a low voice. “What could you possibly need help with? You’re a billionaire, you have dozens of people working for you.”

I nodded.

“That’s true, but not everyone can help me the way you do.”

That made her spring back into action, looking under tables, scanning the room again.

“Absolutely not,” she whispered. “Absolutely not.”

But this time, I stood up, looming over her small frame. I was still butt naked, but it was a good butt naked. Even at forty-five, I still work out every day, hitting the gym and it shows. My shoulders are broad, chest wide, tapering off into a narrow waist. And of course, there was my dick. Even soft, it still hung between my thighs like a thick rope, glistening with our combined juices.

“Like I said, baby girl,” I rumbled dangerously. “Not everyone can help me the way you do. Now sit down before I beat that sweet ass of yours.”

The girl’s eyes grew wide, mouth opening slightly, but she dropped onto the couch.

“Fine,” she whispered. “Shoot.”

I rumbled.

“That’s more like it,” I said, completely unbothered by my nakedness. Why should I be uncomfortable? This girl had just ridden me hard, my cum still dripping from that wet slit, so it wasn’t like this was new. In fact, let her get a good eyeful. Usually women lose it when they’re physically in my presence, dying for a taste.

So I grinned again.

“Like I said little girl, for the third time. You can help me in your own special way, and that’s by being my fiancée.”

Her mouth snapped shut.

“Surely you must be joking,” Kitty murmured. “You have to be joking.”

“No joke,” I rumbled, striding over to a bar and grabbing a bottle of brandy. Hell, may as well have a drink and enjoy myself. “I need a fiancée, and you’re perfect for the role. In fact, more than perfect,” I said smoothly. “My mom’s already caught us at it.”

The brunette shook her head furiously.

“You just said your mom’s caught you with dozens of women before. So it doesn’t make a difference,” she said. “I’m just the latest in a long line of girls.”

“Maybe,” I tossed out nonchalantly. “But she’s never caught me with just one woman,” I rumbled. “It’s always been two, three, or even more.”