What He Needs: A New Adult Romance (My Alpha Billionaire)

  What He Needs (My Alpha Billionaire)

  (Domination Billionaire Erotic Romance: Dark Shades of Pleasure)

  by

  Tawny Taylor

  Published by Novel Mind Books

  Copyright 2013 Tawny kat Taylor

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

  Books by Tawny Taylor

  Wild Knights

  Wicked Knights

  Wanton Knights

  Wild, Wicked & Wanton

  Dark Master

  Decadent Master

  Dangerous Master

  Darkest Fire

  Darkest Desire

  Claim Me

  Wicked Beast

  Prince of Fire

  Girl Enslaved

  Dirty Little Lies

  Triple Stud

  Enslaved by Sin

  Double Take

  Behind the Mask

  Plays Well with Others

  Lust’s Temptation

  Wrath’s Embrace

  Burning Hunger

  Torrid Hunger

  Everlasting Hunger

  Slave of Duty

  Flesh to Flesh

  Compromising Positions

  Breathless

  Pleasing Him

  At His Mercy

  Ties That Bind

  Heart Throb

  Burn For You

  Her Lesson in Sin

  Touch of Fire

  His Dark Kiss

  Playing for Keeps

  Your Wicked Game

  Make Me Burn

  Make Me Shiver

  What He Wants (My Alpha Billionaire, 1)

  What He Demands (My Alpha Billionaire, 2)

  What He Craves (My Alpha Billionaire, 3)

  What He Needs (My Alpha Billionaire, 4)

  My Alpha Billionaire (What He Wants, Books 1-4)

  Yes, Master

  Make You Mine

  ABOUT THE BOOK

  I need her. More than my next breath. More than life itself. I never wanted to need someone.

  How did this happen? How did she break through my defenses?

  A few short weeks. She’s been the center of my life for that long. Only that long. And yet in that short time she has turned my world on its side. Everything is different now.

  Different and better.

  Different and worse.

  I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t work. I can’t do anything without thinking about her, wondering what she’s doing, aching to touch her, to hear her sweet voice. In just a few weeks she has become the center of my universe.

  When I lose her--and I know I will because there isn’t a single person or thing I’ve loved that I haven’t lost--I will be destroyed.

  LENGTH: 24,000 words, Novella

  BONUS CONTENT: Read an excerpt of Tawny’s recent release, AT HIS MERCY, and the sequel to Darkest Fire, DARKEST DESIRE, available now.

  PLEASE NOTE: This is the fourth installment of a serialized storyline. The series is best enjoyed if read in order.

  Book 1: What He Wants

  Book 2: What He Demands

  Book 3: What He Craves

  Book 4: What He Needs

  SAMPLE

  There was nowhere that I felt more alive than in this room with this man. My heart was pounding, my skin tingling, my senses all heightened. I waited, each second absolute agony, to see what he would do next.

  He started working on my pants, unbuttoning the fly and revealing an inch of skin at a time. His fingers were nimble, though he seemed to intentionally delay his progress as he pushed them down over my hips. It took a while, but the slow pace and his total focus made me that much warmer.

  How he looked at me. How he touched me. It was almost impossible to remain still. I wasn’t breathing normally. Instead of slow, shallow and steady breaths, I was gasping.

  When he had my pants off, he stepped back, smiled. “Perfect.”

  “I’m so glad you like what you see.”

  “I love what I see.”

  Love. My heart skipped a beat or two. Maybe even three.

  I felt my face heating up, my cheeks turning pink.

  “Ah, there’s that pretty flush.” He caught the center of my bra with his index finger and tugged. “Hmmm. I should have taken this off before I cuffed your wrists, I suppose. Oh well.” Moving so close, I felt his body heat radiating over my chest, he focused his gaze on mine. His hands skimmed around my ribcage to my back, found the hooks and, in a snap, had them undone. My breath caught in my throat. “Look. That flush has spread.” His dark gaze wandered lower, to my chest. My nipples pulled into hard, aching points.

  I whimpered.

  “Sshhh,” he whispered, looking wicked and sexy. He pushed the cups of my bra up, exposing my flesh to his eyes, his mouth, his hands. He took full advantage, as I knew he would. He pinched one nipple between his left thumb and index finger until the pain was as sharp as a blade, piercing my insides. Then he laved the other with his warm, smooth tongue.

  Pain. Pleasure. They blended inside me, swirling round and round, stoking fires ignited deep inside.

  How I loved his world. Dark. Dangerous. Sensual. In this place I could explore the forbidden. Without shame. Without guilt or doubt.

  My fingers curled into tight fists. My knees softened. I was melting. Already. Losing myself in ecstasy.

  “There are so many things I want to show you, to teach you. This is only the beginning.” He scraped his teeth across my nipple, and my spine arched. Oh God, it was delicious agony.

  “Yes teach me. I want to please you.”

  “You do. In every way.” He flicked his tongue down the center of my chest, between my breasts. “The way you breathe pleases me.” His hands brushed down my sides, fingers spanning my ribcage. “The way you smell pleases me.” His tongue dipped into the shallow hollow of my belly button. “The way you tense beneath my touch pleases me.” Lower, he was moving lower, squatting before me. The tissues between my legs started to pulse with heat. “The way you writhe in ecstasy pleases me.” His hands curved over my hips, holding them in place. “Open your legs for me.”

  I widened my stance.

  “Wider.”

  I shuffled my feet farther apart.

  “Wider, Bristol. I need you open, wide open.”

  I moved them even farther apart. My inner thigh muscles burned. My arms—still fastened at the wrists in the cuffs—stretched.

  “Yes. Better.” His lips caressed my shaven mound. “Delicious.”

  I quivered. His voice was low and husky. It vibrated through me like an electrical current. My insides clenched as he fastened one ankle then the other.

  Bound. Both wrists. Both ankles. I was completely at his mercy now.

  What would he do? What delightful pleasures would he introduce to me now?

  One of his hands inched around to my wet center. The tip of one finger slipped between my nether lips to tease my clit. I would have crumpled to the ground if I hadn’t been shackled. My knees buckled, leaving all my weight to be supported by my cuffed arms. I straightened my legs right away.

  “Ah, you’re going to have to stay strong, minx.” He flicked that wicked finger over my clit again, and I locked my knees to avoid falling again. “That’s better. Now, let’s take it to the next step.”

  The next step. What might that be? The muscles in my thighs were twitching. My bones felt like mush already. And my insides…they were simmering. I was a mass of writhing desperation.
I couldn’t be still, despite the chains.

  He stood, his big, hard body mere inches from me but beyond my reach. I could smell him. I could see him. I could practically taste him. But I could not touch him. It was so cruel. And thrilling.

  He stripped off his shirt. My gaze slithered down his flexing, muscular torso, bumped over his abs and stopped at the waist of his pants.

  “Are you ready to see more?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “You’ll have to earn it.”

  Chapter 1

  I need her. More than my next breath. More than life itself. I never wanted to need someone.

  How did this happen? How did she break through my defenses?

  A few short weeks. She’s been the center of my life for that long. Only that long. And yet in that short time she has turned my world on its side. Everything is different now.

  Different and better.

  Different and worse.

  I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. I can’t work. I can’t do anything without thinking about her, wondering what she’s doing, aching to touch her, to hear her sweet voice. In just a few weeks she has become the center of my universe.

  When I lose her--and I know I will because there isn’t a single person or thing I’ve loved that I haven’t lost--I will be destroyed.

  * * * * *

  “Miss Deatrich?”

  That was me. Bristol Deatrich.

  Unemployed Bristol Deatrich.

  Hopefully soon-to-be newly-re-employed Bristol Deatrich.

  Thinking positively, I stood and smiled.

  The woman standing at the door gave me a once over. Her stern expression didn’t change. My positive attitude wilted a smidge. “This way, please,” the woman indicated the doorway behind her with the tip of her head.

  Leaving my smile in place, I grabbed my tote-slash-briefcase and followed her. Her office was a typical barebones space. White walls, gray industrial carpet. Desk. Chair, File cabinet. Bookshelf. Framed Ansel Adams inspirational posters.

  She sat in her chair behind the desk, and I took the one facing her. I tried not to hyperventilate as she flipped through the contents of the folder lying open on her desktop. “Do you have a copy of your resume?” she asked dully.

  “I do.” I pulled out a fresh copy and set it on the desk. My hand shook a little. I placed it in my lap with the other one so she wouldn’t notice.

  “Thank you.” She plucked up my resume and set it beside the paper she was already reading. After several agonizing moments, she asked, as she finally lifted her gaze, “Could you please summarize your work experience?”

  “Sure.” I took a deep breath, and, with nerves jangling, I rattled off my work history, starting with my most recent job. The one I’d lost suddenly. With absolutely no advance notice.

  As she pretended to listen, she looked completely disinterested in what I was saying. Most of the time her focus was directed down, to the pages on her desktop. She rarely glanced up at me. She didn’t respond to a word I said. And her expression was one of absolute boredom. I wondered why I’d been called for an interview.

  And then I answered my own question.

  She had absolutely no intention of hiring me. She was merely going through the motions to satisfy someone. A certain someone, who had probably pulled a few dozen strings to get me this interview.

  It had to be him. Shane Trant. Professional string puller.

  At the end of my spiel, the unimpressed woman pasted on a smile so fake it made a certain celebrity’s boobs look natural, briskly thanked me for coming in, and motioned toward the door.

  There was absolutely no way I was going to be receiving a job offer today. The trip had been pointless. A complete waste of time.

  I waited until I was out in my car before I dialed Shane’s phone number. Then, as the phone’s ring tone sounded in my ear, I started my car and steered it toward the road.

  Shane is my boyfriend.

  He is my lover.

  And he is my master.

  We have a complicated relationship, and a unique one. I’ve known him for a long time, since I was a kid. But recently we took things to a very new and much more intimate level. And it seems, because I’ve been sharing a bed with him on and off for a little while, that he’s decided to poke his nose into my personal business.

  I have mixed feelings about that. Extremely mixed.

  “Hello, Bristol,” he answered on the second ring.

  “Hello, Shane. What did you do?” I asked, figuring there was no need to beat around the bush.

  I hit my turn signal and eased into the right lane. The freeway entry was ahead. After that horrific interview, all I wanted to do was go home, change into some pajamas and vegetate on my couch. It was a short drive home. I would be safe and cozy in my place, soothing my wounded pride with massive quantities of fattening food within minutes.

  “What did I do about what?” he responded.

  “The interview didn’t go very well. I got the impression I had been called in for an interview only because someone had forced the issue. I wonder who that someone might be?”

  “Really? It didn’t go well? Why?” He sounded shocked. He sounded a little angry too.

  He didn’t sound apologetic.

  I steered my car around the cloverleaf curve and hit the gas, merging with the traffic barreling down southbound I-275. “The woman who interviewed me barely looked at me. She was too busy reading someone else’s resume to care what I had to say.”

  “Who was that? What was the woman’s name?” His voice was clipped, sharp.

  “Don’t bother. It isn’t worth it. You couldn’t pay me enough to take a job there.” I sucked in a deep breath and let it out in one long, drawn out sigh. “You win. I’ll come and work for you.”

  “It isn’t a matter of me winning, Bristol. I care about you. I want to help. ”

  “I know,” I said.

  “Is it such a bad thing? I’ll pay you well. You’ll have health insurance, disability, paid vacation and profit sharing.”

  “No. I suppose it wouldn’t be such a bad thing. I’m just being stubborn.”

  “I understand you want to maintain your independence. The fact that you are so determined to succeed on your own is one of the things I respect most about you. I don’t want to change you or take that away from you.”

  “I know,” I said. I really did not know anything. A part of me was totally uncomfortable with him swooping in and saving the day. If I worked for his company, I didn’t know how I would be treated by my coworkers. Would people find out I was sleeping with him? How long would it take for the rumors to begin?

  And, of course, since we weren’t married, I also couldn’t help thinking about what might happen if our complicated and unusual relationship ended. If we broke up but I had to see him every day at work it would be pure hell.

  “I promise nobody will know anything about our private lives. I can make sure that you are working for a division that I have very little personal involvement in. That way it will be even less likely that anyone would guess that we are personally involved.”

  “I suppose if you can do all that, it might be okay,” I said.

  “It’ll be better than okay. Trust me.”

  Trust him.

  He’d asked me to do that more than once. And each time things had turned out okay. Trust was the foundation of our relationship, both romantically as well as sexually.

  “I trust you,” I told him.

  “Good. You’ll come in tomorrow for an interview. I’ll make the arrangements right now. Then, I’ll be over later to pick you up. We can talk about the details over dinner.”

  “Sounds wonderful.” I hit my turn signal, letting the car behind me--the one riding my butt-- know I was getting off at the next exit. “See you later.”

  “Four o’clock. Bye, minx.”

  A little shudder swept through me at the dark and sexy tone in his voice. I loved it when he called me that, minx.

  �
��Bye, master.”

  So much for my plans of lying on the couch and licking my wounds. But that was probably for the best anyway. I wasn’t big on wallowing in self-pity. Besides, with the promise I heard in that low husky voice, I would probably forget all my problems the instant I saw him tonight. I dropped my phone into my purse

  As my car zoomed around the exit ramp’s curve, I checked the clock. I had two hours before Shane came over. That didn’t give me a lot of time. Whenever I saw Shane, I liked to look my best. Looking my best took some work, and time.

  Ten minutes later, one hour and fifty minutes before Shane was due to pick me up, I hurried inside my condo building. In the lobby, I grabbed my mail. Greeting me was a stack of envelopes, most of them with little windows on them.

  Past due notices.

  I tossed the sales circulars and other junk mail directly in the trash and headed into my condo. I put the bills on top of the huge stack already collected on the table next to my door, and kicked off my shoes.

  No need to open a single envelope if I didn’t have the money. Right?

  Living like this, one paycheck from homelessness, was no way to live. There had to be a better way, besides marrying a man with tons of money and becoming completely dependent upon him.

  Wishing to distract myself from thoughts I wasn’t ready to explore, I remoted on the TV.

  I was rewarded with a blank blue screen.

  My gaze hopped back to the unopened envelopes.

  “Oh well,” I said on a sigh. My cable had been cut off. No big deal. I’d lived without cable before. I’d lived without a lot of things before. It wouldn’t be for long.

  I clicked off the TV and changed my clothes. Once I was all prettied up for my date with Shane, I padded into my living room, barefoot.

  I’d actually finished getting ready early. That was a first.

  I sat and stared at the door. Then I stared at the wall. And then I stared at the bookshelf.

  Ugh. This living-without-cable thing was no fun.

  I grabbed my laptop and powered it up. I could kill some time by checking in with some friends on Facebook.

  No connection.

  I checked my modem. The red lights were all glaring at me.

  Crap.

  I had one of those bundle deals. No cable meant no internet either.

  Just for kicks, I scanned for wireless networks, thinking I might borrow a neighbor’s internet. Theirs were all secured with passwords.