"Fuck me, Mr. Hayes, and come deep inside me," she ordered. He entered her, and she could feel his cock filling her completely. Soon she had her hands behind him, scratching his back, digging his nails into her. She didn't even care if she drew blood.
"Fuck me harder," she cried. "Harder!" He did as he was told, until sweat was dripping off of him and onto her. "HARDER! Come in me! I want it!" she screamed, and she could hear him start to make a guttural grunt. He was fucking her so hard that the headboard was slamming into the wall, a rhythmic knocking that was in time with her waves of pleasure. Soon, his rhythm slowed down, becoming erratic, as he continued his grunt. The grunt turned into an animal roar, as he pumped streams of white semen into her body.
She cried out with pleasure, feeling his fluids mixing with hers. He continued to pump, as she grabbed his tie again. "Every last drop," she ordered. "Fuck me until you can't fuck any longer." He did as he was told, and when she felt his cock begin to soften, she pulled him in, letting him stay within her for a few minutes. The two of them breathed heavily, their sweat mingling, and he softly kissed her shoulder. She felt she could die of contentment.
When he finally pulled out, she went to the bathroom while he still lay there wrapped in satisfaction. She jumped in the shower, and in a minute or so Mr. Hayes joined her. She set the water on the digital display and turned on the steam function, reveling in the luxury. They smiled and wordlessly washed each other.
The warm water felt amazing on her skin as he rubbed soap between his hands and down her back. She leaned into his hands as he worked the lather across her skin, gently exploring her body. She rinsed in the hot water and returned the soapy favor. He grabbed a big fluffy towel and dried her back before grabbing one himself. She watched as he dried his hair, some water droplets still hanging to his abs and chest. She reached out with her towel and dried them off, her hand brushing his skin. A tingle of electricity passed through her, but she could feel sleep pulling at her too hard. Maybe in the morning…
They stumbled back to the bed and snuggled into each other. Tracy turned to him and whispered, "In case you were wondering, I am still not one of your whores. You will need to please me like this every time we go out, and I will still have things for you to do for me from time to time. I will not be easy, but I will be worth it."
He smiled, already half asleep. "I wouldn't have it any other way." Soon he’d drifted off to sleep, his arms wrapped protectively around her.
Tracy reflected on the events that had led her to the billionaire's bed. She touched the scar on her forehead, knowing that the accident had truly saved her life when it could have killed her. She knew that she was happy here with Mr. Hayes, and she hoped it would stay that way. She wondered if her ability to read dreams would work on others; the idea of pleasing and enjoying other men like this sparking an ember of desire in her.
She wondered if she’d have more dreams from Mr. Hayes. This new power was something she was going to enjoy exploring and testing. She nestled deeper into his arms, drifting into sleep, and, for the first time in weeks, dreamed her own dreams.
Intermission One
A new apartment. A new car. No need to go to her job. Spending money and no bills.
Being the girlfriend of a billionaire wasn't a bad thing at all. Tracy had often laughed at the women Mr. Hayes had brought into the restaurant, knowing that they were only after his money. She had thought them shallow and stupid.
Only now, she could see why they wanted him so badly. The extravagant life was far better than she had imagined. Just the simple things, like not having to worry if buying an extra can of green beans was going to cause overdraft fees, was intoxicating.
Not to mention the sex. It was amazing. Being able to see into Mr. Hayes' dreams gave her insight into what he really wanted- what he truly desired. It was empowering and more fun than she could have imagined to be able to give a man like him exactly what he wanted. She often found that it gave her more pleasure than she ever thought possible.
Three months, and things were still better than they'd ever been. The dates, the gifts, the sex- it was all fantastic. Not to mention that she really did find Mr. Hayes' company enjoyable. She found herself actually looking forward to their quiet evenings together over a shared meal. She'd think of their discussions and actively looked for things that she knew would interest him to talk about.
She did feel slightly guilty about “using” Mr. Hayes. She enjoyed him for more than just his money, but he had fallen hard for her, but she wasn't nearly as in love with him as he was with her. With his good looks and earnest desire to please Tracy in every way, it was hard not to have feelings for him. But, it wasn't love. At least not yet.
Life, for the first time in a very, very long time, was good.
But nothing this good lasts forever…
Chapter 9
"No, sir. I don't think you should bring her," James said, pinching the bridge of his nose as if he had a headache. "We've got a couple of your biggest investors who would make perfect dates for you."
"Is there a single one of them who’s less than twenty years older than me?,” Paul Hayes asked. "No. Is there a single one of them good looking enough to make a good tabloid picture? No."
He held his arm out as the tailor measured him. He’d had his measurements taken many times before, but when ordering a custom suit, there was no reason not to be thorough. If a suit made the man, then it was important for a billionaire to have the perfect suit.
"Look, sir, I'm thrilled that you’re finally pursuing a relationship with a single woman. I'm even happy with your choice of woman,” Jame replied. Tracy wasn't convinced of his sincerity. “However, this event requires that you bring a woman of high standing, and Ms. Collins simply doesn't fill that role. No offense, ma'am."
Oh, Tracy thought, so he can see me over here in the boss' chair. At this point, Tracy was used to being talked about like this in front of her. It still didn't make her feel any better, though. Just because she was a former waitress didn't mean she wasn't just as good as anyone else.
"I don't think having me around is going to hurt Mr. Hayes' image too much. We've had our pictures taken together before, and I'm by far not the lowest class woman he's ever been seen with," she said, remembering all the bimbos who had walked into the restaurant with him.
"Again, no offense, ma'am, but this isn't just any night out on the town. This is the Ronald Hayes Cancer Research Charity Ball, and there's more at stake here than just Mr. Hayes' personal image." James took a look up and down Tracy's legs before focusing again. "Believe me, I would love nothing more than to see you dressed up and on Mr. Hayes' arm, but this is about more than our personal wants. This is about the company.”
Tracy snorted. In her dreams, she had seen exactly how James wanted to see her dressed, and it wasn't in formal wear. It wasn't very empowering, either. Sometimes, the power was a curse, she thought.
Mr. Hayes turned to look at James, and the tailor dutifully turned with him, silently and obediently measuring away. "I don't care what you or anyone else thinks about Tracy. I seriously don't care. I will not be going to a charity ball in honor of my father with some sixty-five-year-old heiress who smells like old money."
James continued, undeterred. "I have another option, then. The company's biggest investor, John Tice, will be there.
Escorting his daughter around would be a great move for both the company and for your own image."