6: My Psycho-Billionaire

Tessa Morris 

Present Day

‘I'm terribly sick… I can't make it to work...’

I stare at the text I'm typing, still contemplating whether to wipe it off and accept Mrs. Thompson's need for my services. 

The kind old lady can't do without me. 

As if needing a blissful reminder, the sweet memory of last night clogs my mind. And the promising one of today, messes me up. 

Am I ready to miss that for hours of hard labor? 

‘... for two days.’

Tap.

I send the text after completing it. 

It's unprofessional and awful, but it's the only way out. 

I may probably not have a job after this madness. 

‘You don't have any fancy dress. Nothing!’ My mind screams at me. ‘You can decide to either sit here and sulk, or get your ass up!’

I groan and crawl out of bed. 

The morning sun sips in through the open windows. I do my morning routine of a quick yoga, coffee, ticking my fucking ‘Goodbye James’ calendar, and hitting the shower. 

Done, I settle for a simple black dress. 

Before my obsessed stalker comes over, I need to get myself ready. 

“Oh, shit.” I hiss, staring at the dollar pills in my safe. 

It's not little, but not great either. 

Careless with money for the first time, I pack all of it inside my small box bag and head out. I hop in a cab, unbothered about the cost. 

Oh. My. God!

My jaws drop, I'm literally drooling over a skimpy pink dress on a mannequin. 

“Stop!”

The word rips out of me. 

The confused driver turns to roll his sunken eyeballs at me.

“I change my mind.” I pay him and dash out of the cab. 

The boutique is quite big and mere looking; I can tell they only see Turkish and luxurious wear. 

“Hi, uh… I need a pair of your best lingerie and fancy vacay wear.” I yap.

“Hi.” The lady grins. “Welcome. We only offer the best.” She walks out of her portable office. “Come with me.”

She walks me through the showroom and casually runs her hand along the lines of fine dresses. 

I can only help but whimper like a kitten. 

Heaven knows I'm not this vain. 

“We have a couple you'd love…” she goes on rapping as she displays beautiful pairs of lingerie and jumpsuits and whatever she can lay her hands on. 

“Which would you want to try?” She ends her long sermon. 

My eyes catch the price tags: 1750$ 2000$... What the heck? 

I mop foolishly and just bat my lids. My throat suddenly goes dry. 

“Ma'am?”

“Can I get the… the cheapest… uh, most affordable.” I rephrase if that helps. 

“Oh, not a problem, ma'am.” Now, she isn't so enthusiastic. “What's your budget?”

“900$... for both.”

Her smile freezes. 

I can tell she's trying her best not to jump on me. I'd be pissed too. 

My phone chimes with a text. 

The last thing I need is a work call. I may be tempted to work for the extra bucks and get my dream dress. 

‘CREDIT ALERT: 500,000…’

My eyes poke out of their sockets. It feels surreal, like a fucking dream. My breath is caught in my throat. 

“What?” I gasp, speechless. 

“Ma'am… is there a problem?... Ma'am?” 

I ignore her and zoom in on the text message from the anonymous sender. I don't need two guesses to tell who it is.

‘DESCRIPTION: My queen, get whatever the fuck you want. And if you're not satisfied, have them tailor you custom-made wear.’

“What?!” 

My heart is practically exploding. My breathing returns in bits, but I'm both freaking out and elated. 

In shock, my eyes scan the fine shop, wondering if I'm being watched. 

‘Does it matter?’ 

“I'll have to attend to another client in line…”

“Wrap all of them.” I shut her up in my stalker's way; money talks. “And I just might need some special designs. Are you capable of handling that too?” 

She smiles again, this time, it reaches her eyes, warming up the room. 

“Tea or coffee?”

*** ***

8 PM

The waiting of my lifetime finally ends when a brand new luxurious sports car parks in front of my yard. 

In a black hoodie with a cap pulled over his head as usual, a fancy black mask, and fine designer pants, my stalker climbs down, exuding the most powerful aura. 

Overly excited, I hang my bag around my shoulder and hurry down the walkway. As soon as we're a few feet apart, I carelessly throw myself at him in a baby jump. 

“Jeez!” 

He gasps and chuckles. His hands palm my ass and pull me closer in his arms. 

I'm emotional… too emotional. 

My bag drops.  I wrap my arms around his neck and I bury my face in his collarbone, inhaling his enticing cologne. 

“You didn't have to.” 

“You're welcome, Mama.”

I chuckle and lay my head on his shoulder. “Thank you, monster.”

Our chuckle echoes as he helps me in the car, dumps my bag in the backseat, and we pull up in the road. 

“When are you going to let me see your face?” 

His fingers tap on the wheel gripper. “Soon. Just maybe you'd never want to see me again.”

I scoff. “Try me. If I can follow a potentially dangerous masked man around, do you think I'd give two fucks about who you turn out to be?” 

He gives a light giggle. “How about we enjoy the moment.”

I hum and relax in my soft leather seat. My phone beeps. It's my boss. 

‘Two freaking days? TESSA!!! What if Mr. Harper needs your services? What is wrong with you?’ 

My nonchalance starts rubbing in my face. What if…

My phone starts vibrating in my lap, cutting off my worry. My boss is calling. 

Instead, I put it on silent and shut it off after. All the while, he kept stealing glances. 

“What's wrong?”

“Nothing.” I palm my face and look outside the window. 

“It’s not nothing when it affects my lady.”

I turn to look at him, both in admiration and gratitude. This may only last for a moment, but it'll be my lifetime of bliss. 

“I promise.” 

I reach for his hand and curl my small one around him. He chuckles and proceeds to hold mine in a tender grip before squeezing. 

“So, what cruise?” 

“It’s a surprise… a delightful one.”

*** *** 

10 PM. 

I'm standing in front of a massive yacht… scratch that… fucking SUPERYACHT!!!

It's so fantastically big that I'm like a bird on a branch. My eyes gawk at the goodness and my mouth fails to express my thoughts. 

WHAT!?

“History Supreme.” He chuckles and slips his hand into his pocket. 

Still, I'm dumbfounded at the multi-billion machine.

“Come on, mama.” His hand slips around my waist as he pulls me to himself. 

I cling to him and let him lead me in his machine. 

“This is the ground deck. Here is a recliner, you can sunbathe, over there is the pool…” He gives me a grand tour through his insanely beautifusuperyachtch. 

A cluster of rainbow fish around a pole forms a long fancy chandelier with mindblowing colors. It runs from the floor straight to the rooftop. 

His hand remains around my waist as we walk up the stairs. 

It has modern glass doors and incredible lighting. We walk past the outdoor sitting area, dining area, and other fine sections. 

“Here's the VVIP's room on suite. And it's yours.” He motions. “There's a bell on the private diner, all you need do is ring it.”

He makes a boom demonstration. 

“We have the best chef on board. You can get anything you want.” He pauses. “If you need me, you know what to do. I'll be over in the office sorting out a few things.”

I grip his arm, my eyes hold his sexy green ones. 

“I want to be where you are,” I murmur.

A warm smile brightens his face and eyes. “Then I'll stay right here.”

I smile, satisfied, and tiptoe to steal a kiss. My lip pressed against the fine outline of his behind the mask. I catch something like a surprise in his gaze. 

“Let’s put it to the test.” I ring the bell. 

In less than five minutes, a tall lady in a neat uniform walks in. She has her hair packed and pegged to a chef's hat. 

“Good day, sir. Welcome on board ma'am.” She smiles sweetly. 

I can swear that I've seen her on the TV. Now, I feel my heart bleed with jealousy. How many women has he given this royal treatment? 

“Mama,” he leans closer and claims my waist. “She's waiting. Place your order.”

I shake back to reality and manage a fake smile. “Your best.” 

“Nice choice.” She winks and leaves. 

I settle on the table, still angry. While he lies in the other vacant one, ignorant of my conflicting emotions. 

The chef soon returns with a trolley of seafood platter with grilled prawns, lemon butter sauce, sea scallops, and grilled Salmon. Next to it is pasta salad, sandwiches, and dips with chips, alongside fruit and snacks

The sweet aroma of the dishes melts my rage. I take a bite from the grilled Salmon and shut my eyes to savor every freaking moment. 

Chef's kiss! Perfect!

She smiles and leaves us. 

“Join me. Please.” I pout. “I don't mind closing my eyes.”

He leans in and sniffs, then relaxes. “I'm filled.” 

I chuckle. “Can you be any less cocky?” 

He shrugs and wipes his hand with a napkin like he actually ate. “I was born this way.”

I enjoy every damn meal on my plate. Once I'm done, I strip naked and walk upstairs to the jacuzzi of blue enticing water. 

He follows behind. 

“Oh… god.” I cry pleasurably as I immerse myself in the cold water. “It feels so good,” I murmur, loving every second of my day. 

He settles on the recliner and spreads out his long legs. He makes me the center of his admiration. 

Even in a mask, he's fucking breathtaking. Sky knows I want him in here, naked. 

“I'm on top of the world!” I cry and deliberately splash water on him. 

He laughs. “Wait till you get on my private jet.” 

Gosh! I laugh so loud it echoes. 

His eyes light up with interest as I walk out of the bath, dripping wet. My hair perms to my scalp and along my body. Beads of water cling to my bare skin. It drips down from my chin and hangs on my nipples. 

I watch his eyes follow every movement. I know it's only a matter of time and he'd pin me to the fucking wall. 

His gentle footsteps follow behind me. 

I'm now on the balcony, leaning over the rail and watching the dark, calm ocean. 

“You shouldn't be seen naked.” His breath makes the hairs on the nape of my neck stand. “You're not a good sight… anyone who sees you, dies.”

I giggle. “And you?” 

He doesn't speak. Instead, he leans into me and presses me to the cold glass rail. His arms stretch along the rail and he envelopes my hands. 

“I'm your king.” He rocks me in a gentle rhythm. The calm ocean breeze and our soft moans become a melodious symphony. 

I can feel his bulge! My body stiffens. Thick goosebumps crawl along my skin. 

“With the kind of money you have, you don't have to go through this stress for any lady.” I find myself saying. “Why me.”

His hand crawls along my arm, soothing my skin. He lingers on my arm, just close enough to my breast. 

“Because you're one thing money can't buy.” He curls strands of my hair around his finger.

Again, I break down. He makes me feel so secure. Damn it!

I turn in his grip, feeling my body graze his erection. I want him. All of him. 

“Why are you so sweet?” I mumble.

He cups my small face in his palm. “Just so you know, I taste better. Mama.” His tone is dark and hungry. His eyes mirror his dirty need. 

I chew my lower lip and suck in cold air. Slowly, I slip down until I'm kneeling in front of him, and I'm staring right at his bulge. 

He's looking at me, watching every wild movement I make. 

My small fingers crawl up to his fly and I play with the zipper. “Good thing I'm glycemic.”