The Boss Me Series: Complete Billionaire Boxed Set Romance Books (1-3): (A Billioniare Steamy Romance Series) Read online

  Boss Me Series Box Set

  A Billionaire Steamy Romance Series

  Book 1-3

  Brooke Kinsley

  © 2016 All Rights Reserved

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses per law

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  "You know you're in love when you can't fall asleep because reality is finally better than your dreams."-dr. seuss

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  John Batista, a sex crazed billionaire carries out his cruel research in his home laboratory. But his last victim has escaped, and he’ll do anything to stop him telling the truth…

  As Cassie bonds with the man with the terrifying story, things begin to heat up. As she spends more and more time questioning him, she can’t deny the attraction between them. Will she risk her job just for a few moments of pleasure? And will the murderous billionaire catch up with his lost victim?

  *This book is exclusive to Brooke Kinsley’s fan.

  Contents

  Boss Me Please (Book One)

  Boss Me Dirty (Book Two)

  Boss Me Good (Book Three)

  About The Author

  Boss Me Please

  A Steamy Billionaire Romance Series

  Book One

  Brooke Kinsley

  © 2016 All Rights Reserved

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses per law

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.

  "Pornography is about dominance. Erotica is about mutuality."-Gloria Steinem

  Contents

  Description

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Description

  When math genius Stephanie gets a scholarship to the prestigious Knightswood University in London, she’s both excited and terrified. She’ll have to leave everything behind in Kansas, but she’ll be finally appreciated for her intelligence. Finding herself plunged into the center of English university life, she soon becomes popular and finds her footing as one of the school’s most gifted students.

  What she doesn’t know is that billionaire and previous Knightswood student, Fredrick Milton is volunteering in her class in a bid to source the most talented mathematicians.

  When a mysterious test is placed in front of her and she finds herself getting top marks, she’s soon pushed into his orbit. She can’t deny how handsome he is and he has eyes for her too! But when the two find themselves alone in her dorm will things finally heat up, or will Fredrick’s big mouth land him in trouble?

  Chapter One

  The smell of sweat is heavy in the air. It's making my nostrils twitch even though my face is pushed down into the seat, the upholstery scuffing away the skin on my cheek.

  "Slow down, Jon."

  He grunts and begins to rock back and form in a less frantic rhythm.

  "I'm sorry," he says with his voice strained and faint. "I can't help it. You just make me so horny, you know."

  He grunts again and slides his hand around my front to cup a breast.

  "They're getting bigger," he says.

  I'd been thinking that too. They were usually flat and rather sad to look at, loitering somewhere over my ribcage under a brown, threadbare bra. But this morning, as I'd stepped into the shower, I had noticed there was now a fullness to them. I'd clutched them tight between my fingers and for once, thought they looked pretty good. Maybe it was the extra weight I'd been carrying recently. Behind me, Jon shifts his weight.

  "You're always so tight and juicy," he moans as he pinches my nipples. "You always were the best."

  Leaning forward, he strokes the sweat dampened hair from my eyes and kisses my bare back.

  "I'm close, sweetheart. Are you?"

  I whimper with my lips still pressed into the seat belt.

  "Rub me," I cry. "Like this."

  Pulling his hand away from my breast, I move it down in between my legs. His fingertips connect with the slick wetness that's covering my engorged clitoris.

  "Oh, God."

  He rubs it furiously as he glides in and out of me.

  "Yeah... Fuck!"

  I'm screaming as I feel an orgasm approach. My knees are burning against the polyester seat cover but in the moment, the pain only seems to intensify the pleasure.

  "Fuck!"

  He begins to move faster again, reaching a steady speed as the pickup truck squeaks as we rock it from side to side. Outside, the rain is pelting down in waves over the windscreen, the noise covering my voice. In the distance, I can hear a door bang open and closed in the ferocious wind. Somewhere a sheep bleats, then there's the creak of a tree branch as it bends in the breeze.

  "Choke me," I gasp.

  "What?"

  For a moment, he slows down as though he's about to stop.

  "I said fucking choke me!"

  "Are-are you serious?" he stutters

  "Uhuh..."

  I replace his hand with mine and slide two fingers around my clitoris. My fingers touch the shaft of his penis and I move a little further back until my hand is clenched tight around his balls.

  "Woah!Easy, girl."

  His hands are around my neck. I can feel his fingers touch my windpipe.

  "Harder!" I demand.

  "I'm not really sure about this," he says.

  But his rock hard erection says otherwise.

  "I know you wanna do it," I half-laugh as I turn my head to look up over my shoulder.

  His face is crimson red with a vein popping out the front of his forehead. There's a small line of spit along his lower lip and the tendons in his neck are pulled taught.

  "Fuck, Stephanie. I dunno."

  "Just do it!"

  He hesitates.

  "Go for it!"

  He grips my throat hard and I start to feel the air supply being shut off. The blood leaves my head and travels south. The heat between my legs builds up as I grow wetter. The side
s of my vision start to blur and suddenly the sound of the rain starts to drift away. Then I can't see a thing. There's only blackness and silence and I'm nothing but my thoughts and the pleasure that's pulsing in my vagina.

  I climax hard, my whole body trembling as I fall onto the gearstick. It hits me in the stomach and for a second, the pain threatens to spoil it.

  "Oh, God!"

  My blood's rushing to my ears. I'm convinced I'm about to pass out. I might even die. Then I feel him pump his ejaculate into me as his buttocks clench and he's letting go, his fingers slithering away as he sits back on his heels.

  My vision comes back to me in a haze of colors; the faded blue of the seat, the inky black plastic of the door. I can smell the spearmint air freshener that's dangling from the rearview mirror, almost taste the sweat that's coming from both our bodies.

  The sound of the rain returns and it's then that I notice how heavy it is. I wonder why the truck seems to be rocking all by itself, then I realize it's the wind that's jerking it around. Gulping in a lungful of air, I latch my fingers onto the door and pull myself up. My back aches from being bent over and there are pins and needles in my legs from being scrunched up. Behind me, Jon is breathing hard, the smell of his whisky breath drifting over to me. I'm breathing heavier with the pain in my chest dissipating with each breath I take.

  "You're a real dirty girl," he gasps.

  I pull up my jeans and fasten my bra at the back.

  "I'm not dirty, I'm... I don’t know, bored of the usual, I guess."

  Pulling down the passenger mirror, I look at my mascara that's smudged down over my cheeks. Mom'll think the rain did it. Meanwhile, my hair is puffed up at the back. I tug at the tangles but my stubborn, curly hair won't budge.

  "You ok?" he asks as he zips up his pants.

  "Yeah," I sigh.

  He's looking at me strangely.

  "You don't look it."

  "I'm fine! Just...Recovering."

  "That was wild, weren't it?"

  "Yeah, pretty crazy."

  Looking at my neck in the mirror, I see dark red marks start to form on my pale skin.

  "Are you sure you're ok?"

  "Yes!"

  "It's just..."

  I glare at him and he closes his mouth. Noticing my belt's still undone, I lift up my hips to get a better angle and see the stripes across my skin. I was always told the stretch marks would fade eventually but they never did. Even my attempts at tattooing over them had failed.

  "They're kisses from lightning bolts," my mother had told me. "You're a daughter of Thor."

  But her words had fallen on deaf ears. They were an ugly reminder of what I had lost and I couldn't ever see them as something beautiful.

  "Have a lot on your mind?" Jon asks.

  "Wow, you're asking a lot of questions today."

  He purses his lips and pulls out his pouch of tobacco from his jacket pocket.

  "Hey, roll me one, will you?"

  "Sure," he smiles.

  "If you must know..."

  There's a lump in my throat. I know what I have to say but nothing's coming out.

  "Jon... I have something to tell you."

  He licks the edge of the cigarette paper and rolls it up into a perfect tube, something he's been able to do since he was nine years old.

  "Jon, I'm leaving."

  "Leaving town?"

  I shake my head.

  "Leaving the state?"

  "Leaving the country," I say with tears pricking my eyes.

  He's staring at me as though he's waiting for the punch line to a joke. When it doesn't come, his mouth drops and his hand shake as he hands over the cigarette. I light it and take a deep inhale of the toxic smoke.

  "You're joking. You must be. Steph, tell me you're not being serious."

  "I'm being serious. I got the scholarship. Remember I applied to do mathematics at Knightswood University?"

  He nods and blinks.

  "Sure, I remember but... I didn't think..."

  "You didn't think I was smart enough to get it."

  "I didn't say that!"

  For a long while, we sit in silence blowing smoke out into the cab of the truck and watching the rain.

  "How long have we known each other?" he asks as he stubs his cigarette out in an empty soda can.

  "Since I was four, no five."

  "I always thought the two of us would end up married. Even after you got pregnant with Henry's kid, even when we never officially got together, I always thought you were the one, you know."

  "I never thought that," I say. "Shit, I mean, I didn't mean to be so blunt but, Jon," I take his hands in mine. "I've always wanted more. You know that."

  He doesn't say anything, just swallows and looks out the windshield.

  "You always said those things; how you wanted to travel, meet new people and study abroad but shit, I thought they were just pipe dreams!"

  He sniffs and pulls his hands away.

  "You'll be back, though, right?"

  "At Christmas," I say. "I'll be back then."

  "So that's it. Just a few weeks here and there."

  I don't answer.

  "England..." he breathes, "You're really moving to England."

  "I'm really moving to England."

  "I should be happy for you."

  Yet, I can sense that he's never been more miserable.

  "When did you find out?"

  "The letter came this morning."

  He starts rolling another cigarette. As I watch him I remember all the years we've known each other and how he'd always been here for me. When I was at my most unlovable, he was at my door with a bottle of whiskey and a pack of smokes. When I thought I'd never smile again, he'd had me doubled over laughing. When I said I've never trust another man, he'd held me gently and never once tried to change my mind.

  "I have to go," I blurted out. "

  "Steph, don't. Stay a while."

  "Sorry."

  I leap out the truck and wince as the rain lashes my face. Then I run through the trees toward my front door. Mom’s on the porch with a coffee in her hand and she looks up when she sees me running.

  "Where the hell have you been?"

  Chapter Two

  "So, I suppose you'll be drinking tea by the gallon and paying your way through college working as a chimney sweep."

  My sister Susan's standing behind me but I can see her reflection in the switched off television. She thinks I can't see her and face that’s twisted up into a jealous snarl, a cigarette precariously perched in between her teeth.

  "And what will you be doing?" I ask.

  She huffs and shifts her weight from hip to hip.

  "How should I know?"

  There are frantic noises coming from the kitchen. Mom's attempting to bake something but it doesn't sound like it's going to plan. There's the sound of cupboard doors being slammed shut along with her mumbling profanities under her breath. The strong smell of burning is wafting through to the living room but that might just be Susan's cigarette. Everything in this house smells rotten.

  "I'm going to pack," I huff and begin walking up the stairs.

  Susan glowers after me as I walk away. A loud clatter comes from the kitchen.

  "Jesus fucking Christ!" mom shouts and Susan laughs.

  I close my bedroom door behind me and pinch the bridge of my nose. If I never see this place again it'll be too soon.

  "Urgh..."

  Sitting on the edge of the bed, I lower my head into my hands and begin to weep. The letter of acceptance is on the floor in front of me, wedged in between some balled up socks and a wet towel. I don't know why I'm crying. For once, luck is on my side, but I can't shake the feeling that I'm doing something wrong by leaving my family behind.

  "Steph?"

  "What is it, Susan?"

  "Can I come in?"

  "No."

  She pauses for a second.

  "I won't shout at you, I promise."

  I rub at my
eyes with my sleeve and open the door with a sigh.

  "What?"

  She pushes past me and sits at my desk looking around at the stacks of books. My sketchbook is in front of her, flipped open to a nude sketch I'd attempted to copy from an Egon Schiele book I found in the library. She wrinkles up her nose at it.

  "You did this?"

  I nod.

  "What? So you like women now as well?"

  "No. I just like to draw them."

  "Why did you draw her tits all weird like that? They're all flat and sad."

  "Susan..."

  She hasn't finished.

  "What the fuck is chaos theory?"

  She opens a textbook that's lying at her feet.

  "This may as well be in Chinese for all I care. Why do you even read this stuff?"

  "It's fun."

  I snatch the book away from her.

  "It's also, if you haven't noticed, my future."

  "Right... Advanced mathematics at Knightswood University. Where is it again?"

  "North London."

  "Well, say hello to Harry Potter for me."

  I close my eyes and take a deep breath.

  "Can't you please be happy for me?"

  She shrugs and stubs her cigarette out on the window ledge.

  "Sure. I'm happy for you."

  "You don't look it."

  She doesn't say anything.

  "What do you want, Susan? Did you just come in here to belittle me? I've got more important things to do right now."

  "Huh, so you think you're better than me now."

  "I literally never said that."

  "You didn't need to," she says as she rolls her eyes. "Anyway, mom wants you downstairs. Dinner's ready."

  ~

  I'm sitting at the table feeling awkward. We never eat at the table. In fact, I can't remember the last time we even ate dinner together. The dining room table is usually reserved for overflowing ashtrays and unfinished puzzles. Now it’s packed out with matching crockery and bowls of roasted vegetable. In the center sits a plump, steaming chicken.