The Billionaire's Pet - Forbidden Fun

Jessalyn starts with surprise.

“Who’s Mira?” she asks.

“My housekeeper.”

“Oh. Of course.”

I smile again.

“All I ask is that you wear one of the outfits in your dresser to dinner and around the house,” I say. “I like my women to be suitably attired.”

Jessalyn’s head snaps in my direction. I knew this would throw her off.

“You bought me clothes?” she asks as her eyebrows scrunch together. “Suitably attired? What does that mean?”

I shrug and grin.

“Yeah. I figured you would need some new items once you got here. You can try them once I’m gone. If they’re not the right size, I can take them back. Or more accurately, my staff will take them in for an exchange.”

Jessalyn inhales again, and I can see that stubborn look on her face, but I cut her off once more.

“While you’re here, you’ll wear the clothes I provide you, and only the clothes that I provide you. Understood?” My voice is firm and brooks no protest this time.

Jessalyn shifts uncomfortably on her feet and doesn’t answer, obviously not amused at my request.

Well, she’ll learn.

I nod and begin to close the door.

“Don’t forget dinner is at six,” I say calmly, like our situation is totally normal. Jess looks back at me with sparks in her eyes, which I love. This is going to be fun.

Then, I shut the door behind me and quietly make my way downstairs to my office. It’s going to be hard to focus with Jessalyn here, but I better get some work done because the fireworks start tonight.

5

Jessalyn

* * *

My eyes open a little bit later and my body feels… different. I must have drifted off after Cameron left. I feel well rested and recharged compared to the way I felt earlier this morning, which was completely exhausted. I shoot up in the bed and glance at the clock on the wall and see that it’s four o’clock in the afternoon. There are two hours left before dinner. I have plenty of time to get ready.

I groggily get off the bed and smooth back the high thread count sheets. I admire the room one more time before making my way to the bathroom and stepping into the shower stall. Unbelievably, there’s both a shower and a tub, which I’ll have to use when I have more time. I love bubble baths, but haven’t had one in years because our trailer only has the tiniest stall.

After a shower, I use the blow dryer and try to tame my curls, but it’s impossible. I’ve always had a mane of wild chestnut curls, and today is no different. At least they look shiny and full of bounce. Even my skin looks a bit more glowy, if that’s possible.

Exiting the bathroom, I walk over to the closet to pick out a new outfit for dinner. Cameron probably got me everything in the wrong size. I’m a bigger girl with generous assets, and many things in the stores don’t fit me. Sometimes, I shop at the plus-size outlets, but I don’t have much money and often the clothes they sell there resemble sacks more than they do clothes.

But when I open the closet door, a gasp escapes me because there’s nothing but string in here! Or more accurately, the closet is filled with racy lingerie of all colors: red, black, white, and every color of the rainbow. I feel my cheeks redden and the rest of my body grow hot as I take one set off the rack. The panties look like a postage stamp connected to ties, and the bra is basically see-through because it’s so sheer.

Is this what Cameron wants me to wear around the house? I’d be embarrassed! My assets would hardly be covered, and I might as well stroll around naked.

Surely there’s been a mistake. Yet, it’s titillating to know that the CEO wants me in lingerie only. He made it clear that he bought me “new clothes” and I flush again at the thought of Cameron selecting these items specifically for me. Does he not realize how revealing they are?

I close the closet and move to the chest of drawers, wondering what I’m going to find. But it’s the same. Once the drawers are opened, a small whimper escapes my throat. More lingerie. There’s no mistake, this is what he wants. Cameron wants me to saunter around the mansion like a showgirl, revealing my body in these little bits of nothing. Clearly, a discussion needs to be held tonight. Cameron and I need to come to an agreement regarding what qualifies as “clothes” because we have vastly different ideas of what that word means.

I sink onto the bed and put my face in my hands. What should I do? I didn’t bring any of my own outfits because I didn’t plan on staying. In fact, I was going to tell him off and laugh in his face.