Read Online Caught in the Billionaire's Bedroom (BWWM interracial alpha male romance) by Neesa Baker - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Neesa Baker
Tags: United States, Literature & Fiction, Short Stories, Contemporary Fiction, Women's Fiction, African American, Short Stories & Anthologies, Single Authors
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accent. Did they take import him all the way from England? I wondered.
I walked down the hallway slowly, taking in the art along the walls. The plush carpeting made my footsteps silent, and the air felt stuffy and choked. I longed to open each door, to see what lay behind it. Everything looked very fragile and clean, and I couldn’t imagine any kids living in here.
Finally, I came upon the last door. I knocked carefully.
“Come in,” said someone. His voice was smooth, like silk. I pushed opened the doors and stepped through. It was an office of some kind, decorated in mahogany and leather. There was a fire crackling to one side, and row upon row of books. But my eyes were drawn to the man behind the desk.
Mr. Langston.
He was handsome, even for an older guy. His wavy, chestnut hair was carefully combed off to one side, and his charcoal suit was impeccably tailored to his body. It showed off broad shoulders well. I could feel myself blushing under his intimidating gaze. I could see why people said he ran a tight ship at his company. It looked as though he could see right through me. The hardness in his eyes melted when he smiled though, which made me foolishly smile back.
I had worn my best outfit for the job interview today. It was very difficult to find clothes that fitted my curvy body, and yet remained modest. It was tough; Anything that fit looked salacious with my generous breasts, no matter how much I slouched. So I’d opted for a loose blouse and dark pants, but now I wished I had dressed up a little more.
“Hello Mr. Langston,” I said stepping forward and extending my hand. “I’m Rachel Martin.”
“Thank you for coming on such short notice Rachel,” he said, extending his hand. It was large and warm, enveloping my little one. He held onto my hands for a moment, then let go. My hand tingled slightly, as if he was still holding on. I could see his muscular frame shifting under his suit as he moved. I wish I could see him without his shirt, flitted through my head before I realized just how inappropriate it was to fantasize about my future boss.
“Please.” Mr. Langston gestured at the buttery brown chair in front of him.
I fell into the leather chair, letting it keep me up. His touch had sent my heart into overdrive, and the beating in my ears made it hard to focus. I didn’t understand what was going on, only that I wanted to stare longer into his hazel eyes.
“Now, I do need some documents signed, here, and here. The terms of your employment are this: You are to take over for my son’s music lessons until a more suitable teacher can be found. His last one was, shall we say? Neglectful? I will not tolerate that. This is a formative time for a child, and he must play more if he is to develop the proper skills to succeed.” He gestured to a second page. “Please take this home and study it. You will be expected to know all the protocol by the next shift.”
All I could do was nod. My mouth was parched and dry. I’d tutored for many kids over the years, but none had such a rigorous set of material to follow. I was glad that I had forgotten the music books I had planned to show him, because they definitely wouldn’t be up to par.
“Any questions?”
I swallowed back my criticism and shook my head. I was being paid nearly $50 an hour, and I couldn’t afford to lose my job. Not to mention the fact that it would mean I’d no longer see Mr. Langston again. My heart squeezed tightly at the thought.
“Very well. See you on Friday.”
He gave my hand another shake, and with that I was dismissed. I gathered up my papers, turned and left. As I got to the door, I took one last look at Mr. Langston, and left. He didn’t look up as I said goodbye. Clearly, I hadn’t made quite as much of an impression on him.
That night, as I lay in my little twin bed, I thought of Mr. Langston. He was so calm and controlled, unlike the boys around the town. They would try and outboast one another, each one
I walked down the hallway slowly, taking in the art along the walls. The plush carpeting made my footsteps silent, and the air felt stuffy and choked. I longed to open each door, to see what lay behind it. Everything looked very fragile and clean, and I couldn’t imagine any kids living in here.
Finally, I came upon the last door. I knocked carefully.
“Come in,” said someone. His voice was smooth, like silk. I pushed opened the doors and stepped through. It was an office of some kind, decorated in mahogany and leather. There was a fire crackling to one side, and row upon row of books. But my eyes were drawn to the man behind the desk.
Mr. Langston.
He was handsome, even for an older guy. His wavy, chestnut hair was carefully combed off to one side, and his charcoal suit was impeccably tailored to his body. It showed off broad shoulders well. I could feel myself blushing under his intimidating gaze. I could see why people said he ran a tight ship at his company. It looked as though he could see right through me. The hardness in his eyes melted when he smiled though, which made me foolishly smile back.
I had worn my best outfit for the job interview today. It was very difficult to find clothes that fitted my curvy body, and yet remained modest. It was tough; Anything that fit looked salacious with my generous breasts, no matter how much I slouched. So I’d opted for a loose blouse and dark pants, but now I wished I had dressed up a little more.
“Hello Mr. Langston,” I said stepping forward and extending my hand. “I’m Rachel Martin.”
“Thank you for coming on such short notice Rachel,” he said, extending his hand. It was large and warm, enveloping my little one. He held onto my hands for a moment, then let go. My hand tingled slightly, as if he was still holding on. I could see his muscular frame shifting under his suit as he moved. I wish I could see him without his shirt, flitted through my head before I realized just how inappropriate it was to fantasize about my future boss.
“Please.” Mr. Langston gestured at the buttery brown chair in front of him.
I fell into the leather chair, letting it keep me up. His touch had sent my heart into overdrive, and the beating in my ears made it hard to focus. I didn’t understand what was going on, only that I wanted to stare longer into his hazel eyes.
“Now, I do need some documents signed, here, and here. The terms of your employment are this: You are to take over for my son’s music lessons until a more suitable teacher can be found. His last one was, shall we say? Neglectful? I will not tolerate that. This is a formative time for a child, and he must play more if he is to develop the proper skills to succeed.” He gestured to a second page. “Please take this home and study it. You will be expected to know all the protocol by the next shift.”
All I could do was nod. My mouth was parched and dry. I’d tutored for many kids over the years, but none had such a rigorous set of material to follow. I was glad that I had forgotten the music books I had planned to show him, because they definitely wouldn’t be up to par.
“Any questions?”
I swallowed back my criticism and shook my head. I was being paid nearly $50 an hour, and I couldn’t afford to lose my job. Not to mention the fact that it would mean I’d no longer see Mr. Langston again. My heart squeezed tightly at the thought.
“Very well. See you on Friday.”
He gave my hand another shake, and with that I was dismissed. I gathered up my papers, turned and left. As I got to the door, I took one last look at Mr. Langston, and left. He didn’t look up as I said goodbye. Clearly, I hadn’t made quite as much of an impression on him.
That night, as I lay in my little twin bed, I thought of Mr. Langston. He was so calm and controlled, unlike the boys around the town. They would try and outboast one another, each one
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