Page 9 of Dirty Filthy Billionaire: Part 1

Weston

“I thinkwe’ll start off at the bar,” I say to Megan, the hostess.

“Of course, sir,” she says, nodding to me.

Megan knows who I am but no one uses names at Plaisir. It’s one of the many confidentiality rules.

Mia’s eyes are wide, and just by the way she’s walking, I can tell she’s nervous or intimidated. That smart exterior she had in my office earlier has faded and her lack of experience—either in journalism or sex, I’m not sure—is already showing. Her back is rigid and she’s trying not to look anyone in the eyes. It’s sort of cute, but mostly fun to know how uncomfortable she is.

I pull out the high-backed bar stood for her to sit. There are only a few people in the bar area talking in low voices—men and women dressed as if it’s New Year’s Eve, wearing cocktail-party attire and leaning in closely to each other. The whole vibe screams sexy.

Red wallpaper with black velvet patterns line the walls, and a mirror runs the length of the bar.

Mia, despite clearly being wound tight, looks beautiful beside me. She rests her elbows on the bar and it pushes up her ample cleavage. Her skirt, already short, is hiked up high on her thigh, and I'm not sure how I’m going to keep my hands from her skin. I’ll see how the night goes, but she’s beautiful in a neophyte sort of way. And we are at a sex club—but for work, of course.

“Good evening,” says the corseted woman behind the bar. “What can I get you to drink?”

“Whiskey neat,” I tell her. “What would you like?” I ask Mia.

“Just a wine, please” she says.

“What kind, miss?” the bartender says.

Mia looks like she’s in the middle of an oral exam she didn’t study for. “White,” she finally says.

“Chardonnay, pinot grigio? We have a nice sauvignon blanc from the Loire Valley of France…”

“Yes, that’s fine,” she quickly says, and I have to control myself from laughing.

Mia doesn’t say anything as our drinks are made; she doesn’t look around the bar either. When our drinks are finally placed in front of us, she quickly goes to take a sip.

“Wait,” I say, stopping her by placing my hand on her forearm. Her skin is warm beneath my fingers. “We have to make a toast. To your first assignment.”

“This isn’t my first assignment,” she says.

“To your trial assignment for Prerogative,” I amend. “Here’s to you impressing me with your reporting skills.” I clink her wine glass but she’s not looking at me. “Mia. It’s bad luck not to look the other person in the eye when you make a toast.”

“Really?” she says, darting her eyes at me.

“Actually, it’s bad sex if you don’t look each other in the eyes. Ten years, I believe it is.”

I’m watching her face, the beautiful lips that she keeps nervously biting. She turns her eyes to me, wide and tinged with fear—maybe anxiety is the better word. She’s nervous and way out of her element.

“Cheers,” she says, clinking my whiskey glass, eyes on mine. “To Prerogative.”

We take sips of our drinks and a moment later she seems like she’s pulling herself together.

She leans a little closer to me, giving me a better view of that cleavage. I’ve got a great view of it in the mirror behind the bar, but seeing it up close is far more incredible. I try not to stare.

I turn my body toward her, resting my hand on the back of her chair. “You do know what a BDSM club is, don’t you?”

“Yeah, of course,” she says quickly. “I mean, it’s been a while but…”

Now I can’t help but laugh. This is too much. It’s too…innocent. Too cute. Which means this will be too easy, bordering on cruel. I wanted to throw her off by bringing her here, but it seems that she really has no idea what goes on in a place like this.

“Mia,” I say. She turns her face to me, and I nod for her to move closer. I rest my hand on the exposed skin of her back and feel an immediate flash of excitement through my body. “Do you know what that stands for?” She pauses, but then slumps the slightest bit and shakes her head no as if she’s conceding defeat. “It stands for,” I say, then lean right into her neck, smelling her hair and skin, “bondage and discipline, dominance and submission, sadism and masochism.”

I can see her skin flush red—it starts on her ample chest and rises to her face. “Good to know,” she says.

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