Selling Out to the Billionaire

By: Penny Wylder


He runs his nose along the line of my neck, and I get chills all over my body—the good kind. I hear him inhale and I’m glad I took the extra few seconds to put on my favorite perfume. I should stop this. This isn’t professional. He’s a client and I need to push him away, but his body feels so impossibly good pressed against mine.

“I just want to thank you,” he says in my ear, “for being so helpful and accommodating. I appreciate the extra work you’ve put in today.”

I think I say something like thank you. I hope it was coherent.

“This bedroom is just what I imagined. I can picture it, fucking someone right here against the glass for all the world to see.”

His words paint the image in my mind and I can see myself naked with him, panting against the glass. I can feel his erection against me, and my head falls back, pressing my ass into him. Screw professionalism.

Derek releases my hands and steps away. I stumble, but recover to see him smirking at me from a few feet away. The front of his pants are bulging with his erection. The sight of it makes my insides throb—I push my knees together, trembling as I ask, “What are you doing?”

“I’m finished here. I’ve decided that I don’t like this house after all.”

My mouth drops open and I don’t recover it in time. “Are you serious?”

“I'm always serious.” He tucks his thumbs in his pockets, turning away.

I swallow slowly, trying to keep my anger in check. "Is it possible you could be more specific about what you don't like?" I'm itching all over with a hot, wild need to fuck. And he's standing there like we were looking at old cars that he changed his mind about. I am not an old car. I'm also not a house, but I'm definitely confused as hell.

"I said I wanted the best." His eyes narrow. "And if this and that pathetic excuse for a mansion you showed me earlier are the best you have, then I think you and I are done."

I feel myself begin to snap and I can’t stop it. “I don’t know who you think you are, but you can’t just do things like this.” My voice rises in volume. “You don’t show up an hour late to an appointment, you don’t dismiss things out of hand, you don’t demand things that are unreasonable. I know you may be richer than the entire world's population combined, but that doesn’t give you the right to ignore common decency. And that…” I sputter and gesture at the window. “What was that? You get all handsy then back off like you're made of ice. You say you know what you want, but I don’t see any evidence of that. You need to make up your mind, Mr. Conway.”

I run out of breath and stop, realizing that I yelled at my client. At Derek Conway. Well…he did deserve it. And if he fires me I’ll deserve that. We’re even.

He doesn’t even look like he heard me, standing there perfectly unruffled with his lips in a neutral line. “Are you finished?” he asks.

I straighten my spine and set my shoulders. “Yes.”

“Good,” he says, turning and walking towards the door. “Watch your tone, Ms. Swanson. If you don’t I can easily find another realtor to handle this transaction. I’ve cleared my schedule tomorrow so that we can look at more properties. Remember,” he says, vanishing around the corner, “I want nothing but your best.”

Then he's gone, and all that's left is his addicting scent in the air around me.





4





On my way home, I call Anna—best friend and bitch session partner. If there’s anyone I need right now, it’s her. Her voice comes over the car speakers as she picks up. “Hello, my newly-minted realtor friend. How was your first day?”

I sigh. “Do you still have that bottle of vodka in your fridge from your birthday?”

“Shit. That bad?”

“Oh, no,” I say. “Bring ice cream too.”

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”

We have a drop everything policy when the other is in distress. I am very, very in distress. I called Jeremy and told him that Derek wasn’t sold on any of the places that we saw and that I’d be showing more houses tomorrow. I apologized for having to put off my office orientation. He didn’t seem to mind, though I know the idea of a rookie like me taking on someone like Derek must make him nervous. At least he was polite enough not to show it too much.

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