Broken Desire: Alpha Billionaire Romance Series Book 4 - Bridget Taylor - ebook

Book Four of Bridget Taylor's Alpha Billionaire Series!Broken Desire will take you to the powerful world (full of BDSM fantasies) of Henry Lennox where he takes away the innocence of the cute Stacey. Once again, Stacy Caldwell thought she could put Henry Lennox behind her. When Henry apologizes for his jealousy and his attempt to control her life, they pick up where they left off with their Dominance and submission dynamic. Together, they continue to explore BDSM, as Stacy is drawn deeper into Henry’s dark world. Meanwhile, Stacy’s feelings for Michael Cavanaugh go from friendship and infatuation to a full affair. As her feelings for both men grow beyond her understanding or control, Michael’s lawsuit looms in the background. Words were said, suggests were made, and jobs were lost. An accounting awaits, and Stacy will face a terrible truth about herself and one of the men she loves. Broken Desire is an erotica romance intended for mature audiences. This is Book four of the Alpha Billionaire Romance Series by Bridget Taylor.

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Broken Desire (Alpha Billionaire Romance Series Book 4)

By Bridget Taylor 

Copyright @2015 by Bridget Taylor.

All Rights Reserved.

This book may not be used or reproduced in any form, in whole or in part, without permission from the author or publisher. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons whether living or dead is entirely coincidental. This book contains mature content of sexually explicit scenes, situations for adults 18+. Every character in this book is 18+ years of age.

All the characters in this book are fictional.

Note: If you haven’t read Book One, Book Two and Book Three of the Alpha Billionaire Series “Broken Innocence”, “Broken Purity” and “Broken Chasity” make sure you get a copy to enjoy this book even more .

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I liked Mondays. The expectation in the corporate world was to dread them. Monday was that thing that called you from your weekend. It dragged you screaming into the office and barricaded you inside, threatening not to let you leave until Friday – if you were lucky. My father would bemoan Monday morning. His eyelids would hang heavy on his face and he would barely muster a smile when I would skip down the stairs and up to the kitchen table with a cheerful “good morning.”

Mondays were like a new door in that creepy old house you were always afraid to go into, but dared anyway. Anything could lie behind it, a dusty room, spiders, or finally the wicked old witch said to haunt the place. Of course, we all knew that the old witch was really just a kindly old woman, who lived alone because all of her kids and grandkids either moved away or were killed in some war overseas. She was shy; otherwise, she would have invited all the neighborhood children up for apple pie and ice cream.

Both were homemade and so tasty.

Stereotypical ideas of creepy old houses aside, I always saw Mondays as a birth of sorts. It was the birth of a new week, with new experiences. That Henry was often part of those experiences only increased my love of the day. The heights of sensation he would carry me to, and the chance to swim in his darkness were incredible to me. I was either in love with the man or the idea. I did not know anymore, and I did not care. I relished those nights as his submissive.

Today, I was not looking forward to Monday.

The last one had ended in a fight. Henry had tried to tell me that I could not see Michael any more, after admitting to stalking me the previous weekend. One or the other, I could have handled. Combined together, they were a sign of his inability to control his jealousy. Combined with his inability to be emotionally honest, it was not a good sign.

I had spent my week telling myself it was good that I walked out. Jealousy was not something I needed. I had worked hard with myself not to be jealous of his office affairs, even avoiding sight of him if I heard him coming down the hall flirting, just to avoid an awkward scene. It was not outside the realm of fair for me to expect the same kind of respect in return.

Only convincing myself was another matter. Once again, I had found myself without Henry in my life, and I was miserable. How I had managed to make it through the week without my teammates questioning me, I did not know. I had no contact with Henry. I did not see Michael over the weekend either. Instead, I visited my parents. It was over between Henry and I, and I did not want to use Michael to get over him.

All of that led me to Monday, and the first time I could remember dreading the day. I threw myself into my work, just as I had the week before, and kept myself focused. I dodged questions from my teammates as I moved through the day. They were curious, and I knew they were worried. I also knew that I did not want to talk about it. Everything about Henry and me was complicated. I did not want to make it even more so with my story.

No, Henry would move on with his affairs. I would get over him and perhaps move on with Michael. I did not want to think that far. As it was, I did not want to think about things really being over. I wanted to feel the sting of his flogger and the weight of rope around my wrists. I wondered if something were wrong with me for having those cravings. Would I be able to go into a normal relationship with someone like Michael after everything I experienced?

In the afternoon, I received an email from Henry. He wanted to me to come by his office after work. I was surprised by the message, and a little concerned. Would there be more fighting? I thought about my unique position in the office. I was not the only one here who was his former submissive, but as heartbreaking as Ana had been for him, the end of their relationship was mutual. I was the first one to just up and leave – twice.

What if Henry decided he could not handle me working in his office?

At five o’clock, I said my goodnights to everyone and walked to Henry’s office. Each step felt heavy, and every few I wanted to turn and walk the other way. I realized that I was not afraid of a fight, a reprimand, or even losing my job. I was just afraid of seeing him again. Would I break down and fall to my knees, or just start crying? I had no idea what I had walked away from, if it was just a Dominance/submission dynamic or a romantic relationship. I only knew that the whole thing left me torn up and heart broken.

Hillary sat at her desk and smiled as I walked up. She gestured to Henry’s doors. “Mr. Lennox is waiting for you.”

“Thank you.” I walked up to the doors, pausing before opening the right one to enter his office.

Henry sat at his desk, this attention focused on his computer screen. He frowned deeply at something and let out a large sigh as I closed the door behind me. I stood there, too afraid to take another step. I remembered the last time I walked into his office with him working so intently. He had pushed me up against the window, exposed me, and fondled me. The memory made me warm and I longed for more of it.

With another sigh, he turned away from his computer and stood. He did not say a word to me. He only looked at me. From across the room, I could see the conflict in his eyes. The darkness that I always saw when he looked at me was there, and it stirred wildly. Over it was something else, something emotional and careful.

He walked around his desk and up to me. When he brought up his hand, I wanted him to push me against the door, to hold me there. I wanted to feel him rough and domineering as he laid claim to what was his. Instead, he gently touched my cheek and brushed back a lock of hair that had fallen loose from my bun.

“Will you come and sit with me?” Henry stepped back and gestured to the couch that stood against one wall of his office.

I walked there and he followed, sitting after I did so. I looked up into his eyes and tried to discern what I saw there. I knew so little of the inner man. I could not place the emotions, to match them with motives and reasons. I realized that I should be able to. I wondered if I had failed at being girlfriend, or his submissive.

“I was wrong.” Henry’s voice was cool and even. He could have been telling me the time, except for his eyes. I thought I understood the emotions now. They were humility and contrition, something I doubted that Henry had to show often. I realized with more guilt, I should have recognized them. I had drawn them out before. “I tried to control an aspect of your life that was never given over to me and it was not my right to take it. You were right to walk out on me. I knew better, but I let my jealousy get the better of me, again.”

I sat silently and listened to him. I was afraid to say a word. I did not know who I was that Henry Lennox should be apologizing to me, but I did not want to spoil this moment.

“You don’t make any demands of me in my personal life,” Henry said. “You have been patient with me and graceful. You have done everything that I have asked of you. I cannot dictate your personal life, and I won’t. You walked out, and you were completely within your right to do so. I’ve spent the last week thinking on what happened, and how I would ask you to come back.”

I thought about the last time that I had walked away from Henry. This was and improvement from spying on me outside of my apartment.

“No more jealousy?” I said.

Henry closed his eyes slowly and opened them again. The emotional conflict was calmer now. “I cannot promise that I won’t be jealous. I can only promise that I will try. I can promise that I won’t attempt to control your personal life anymore. I won’t tell you who you can and cannot see. I will show you the same respect you have shown me.”

I moved to get on my knees and Henry stopped me. He leaned forward and kissed me. It was soft and gentle. His tongue pressed to my lips, asking for entry, and I parted them for it. When he pulled away, he moved to his knees in front of me. He pushed up my skirt and pulled down my panties, pulling my hips forward with them. He slid them down past my knees and brought his face between my thighs. I sighed to feel his lips there, his tongue gently seeking entrance.

I gave over to the emotions that flooded me, the pleasures that he filled me with. In that moment, I felt perfect, fulfilled, and complete. I wanted nothing more than to be stay this way. Knowing that it would end made my orgasm that much more intense, a promise of more to come.

I kept myself focused on my work, but I knew that I was showing a better mood. I felt it. Henry was part of my life again. Whatever that ultimately meant, whether he was my boyfriend, my Dominant, or some mixture of both, I felt whole again. The rest of my week flew by with work and seeing Henry. We spoke briefly about our dynamic, to make sure we were both comfortable picking up where we had left off. My idea of some new power to give to him was forgotten; I was just happy to be able to continue as we were before.

When the weekend arrived, I was exhausted from my week. I rested on Saturday and put off as much of the housework and other chores as I could. I resolved to get my laundry out of the way Saturday evening, as I was too tired for clubbing. On Sunday, between bouts of cleaning, I met Michael for lunch.

We sat under the awning of our favorite park side restaurant as the rain played staccato beats above us. I listened as Michael talked about his week and his plans for a simple hiking trip next weekend. I tried to imagine Henry hiking and could not. I thought hiking with Michael, however, would be enjoyable and found my mind wandering to the things that a man and woman could get up to alone in the woods.

“What are you plans next weekend?” Michael laid down his fork and picked up his glass to sip his tea. His lunch was finished.

I shoved bits of my own lunch around on my plate. My thoughts had me confused and conflicted again, playing havoc with my appetite. Once again, though, I found myself not wanting to part company with Michael. I enjoyed our afternoons together and the simplicity that was developing between us.

“I’ll probably go clubbing with friends, be a homebody, and clean on Sunday.” I gave him a smile when I saw the inquiring look in his eye.

“I’m surprised you’re not with Henry more on the weekends.”