Billionaire Badboy (3 page)

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Authors: Sophia Kenzie

 

 

CHAPTER FIVE

 

 

HUNTINGTON HERALD

Say Goodbye to our Bad Boy

By Ashley Leigh

 

It pains me to bid farewell to our favorite billionaire
as he heads off to law school, but as we all knew, this separation was
inevitable.

 

Still, I believe (and I hope you’d agree) our summer
together, as writer and readers, was simply ravishing. From hot cars to hot girls
to hot off the press, we had a blast. But we know all good things must come to
an end. Or at least, as in our case, take a little break.

 

Not to disappoint, I thought my last article of the
summer should be the one that leaves you wanting more. So, take in this little
tale, and let me know if you find yourself yearning for another day of summer.

 

I heard of the party before it happened. See, that’s not
normally the case. The way it works is that they have their little grapevine on
the cliffs of the millionaires and billionaires. Their soirees are clandestine
so the hosts aren’t forced to entertain the riff raff from the town below. In
case you’re confused, you’re the riff raff. I’m the riff raff.

 

But this riff raff snuck her way into the grapevine.

 

It was to be a farewell to summer hosted by the
Stoneguards, and the party started sharply at 9:00 p.m. You better believe, at
8:59, I was walking up to that elaborate doorway.

 

The entrance swung open, and guests donning their finest
“beach clothes” piled into the foyer. No one gave me a second look; they all
just assumed I belonged.

 

Until I caught his eye.

 

Teddy stood there next to his grand piano wearing loosely
fitted white pants and a tight blue tee shirt that left little to the
imagination. His dirty blonde hair was pushed off his face, save for a few
loose strands that tickled his eyebrows, and he had chosen to sport a day’s
worth of stubble. The moment our eyes locked, he shook his head and made his
way to my side.

 

Of course he didn’t feel as though it was appropriate for
a mere commoner like myself to join his friends in a celebration. He needed to
see to it that I found my way out the door as soon as possible. He grabbed my
arm and began to drag me to the still open entry.   

 

But what kind of a story would that be? Not to be
defeated, I broke free from his grip and ran in the opposite direction. He
thought physical force could stop me? Well, he had another thing coming to him.

 

I took over that party as if it were my own. I hobnobbed
with senators. I danced with CEO’s. I drank champagne with a former president. I
looked around the room and couldn’t believe the lives these people live; the
ones they take for granted, just because they were born into it.

 

I felt a finger tap on my shoulder, and turned around to
see Teddy’s father, Theodore the III, holding his hand out to me. I don’t know
what drew me to accept, but I couldn’t help but place my hand in his. Without a
single word, he began to lead me off the dance floor. That was the exact moment
that the music stopped. That man in his blue tight tee was standing by the DJ
booth, holding a microphone to his lips.

 

He called me an imposter and requested that I leave: in
front of everyone. He was so determined that his party be strictly
blue-blooded, that he felt the need to call me out in front of a room full of
people who were so obviously enjoying my company.

 

Sure, I said my thank you and offered my apologies like a
good girl, but inside I was teeming. I may have just been reporting on his
silly antics all summer, but now he has changed the course of the game. He
deserves to pay, and I will be the one to claim the reward.

 

If you’re reading this, Theodore Vincent Stoneguard IV,
prepare for war.

 

Now, my readers, don’t you wish there was another day of
summer?

 

 

CHAPTER SIX

Teddy

 

 

I see what they mean when they say that your life “flashes”
before your eyes. It kind of seems like a bunch of camera flashes going off
around you. Or maybe it’s more like those old movies that your parents make you
watch of their childhood: the frames are a bit stilted, the sound, if there is
any, is muffled. Yes, I would say as I watched my life flash in front of me, it
was as if I was sitting in a dark room, being shown a projected movie from the
60’s.

 

And as I thought about that, the similarities between the
two, and I watched Ashley ride away in the police car, the picture changed. I
saw the countdown to my next memory. It gave me a brief second to anticipate
what was coming next. What was so important to me as a person that I felt I
needed to see it one more time before I left this world? Five… four… three…
two… one…

 

I heard the grandfather clock in the corner of the foyer
begin to chime. I counted with it, feeling the soothing air of nostalgia from
my childhood. On the ninth toll, the doors opened to swarms of people, all
filling the marble entranceway.

 

It was our end of summer bash, the one my parents threw
every year, but this one was different. This was the bash right before I left
for law school. This was the bash that Ashley crashed.

 

I couldn’t help but shake my head roughly in disbelief as
she stepped into the foyer. I saw no one else but her. She was wearing a white,
one-piece jumper, which hugged her hips and accentuated her small waist. The
thin fabric wrapped tightly around her chest, permitting just the tiniest bit
of cleavage to sneak out of the top. Her neck was bare, giving the illusion
that she was showing a good amount of skin, but without being too immodest for
the party. Her short hair had grown maybe an inch since the last time I’d laid
eyes on her, but this time she allowed for waving curls that were held back
from her face by a salmon colored scarf. I grabbed a deep breath as I took her
in one more time. No, I couldn’t help but shake my head. She was… something.

 

But what she was not, was on my side. Every Sunday since I
had inadvertently gotten her arrested, my father would come into the dining
room for breakfast and plop down the local newspaper. In it would be some
completely misconstrued version of what I had done to shame the town over the
past week. Now I’m not saying I’m a saint, but at the time I was a normal
twenty-two year old kid just looking to have a little fun before I went off to
law school. Fifteen weeks of her column made me look like the devil incarnate.

 

Every girl I picked up was considered a victim of my sexual
prowess. Every party I attended was the site of full-on debauchery. Every
charity event where I showed my face was only a front for a bigger deal I was
running.

 

Sure, I used my money, power, and name to bed a few good
handfuls of women. Parties I attended were riddled with drugs, orgies, and even
some violence, often spawned by me. And yes, occasionally I would only attend
charity events because I was looking to score a rich cougar for a change, but
for the most part, I really did care about the cause.

 

But Ashley Leigh made me out to be a terrible human being. I
barely ever went into town, but when I did, people would stare and point. Hell,
I was even spit on a few times.

 

She made my life a living hell.

 

Naturally I began to hate her. See, I told you that part was
coming. Yes, I hated her; she was the reason the tension between my father and
I grew stronger every week. I was a disappointment to him, and she only helped
to prove that fact. 

 

But when I saw her standing there in her white jumper and
salmon scarf, I couldn’t hate her. I could only shake my head and allow my body
to drift toward her, yet again.

 

“What are you doing here?”

“Oh, what? Am I not good enough to be at your little party?”

“No, I didn’t say that. I’m simply asking why you are here
in the first place. Did someone invite you?”

“I didn’t realize I needed a written invitation. No one else
seems to have one.”

 

I could feel my blood begin to boil. I was just trying to
get her to answer a simple question. Why was she fighting me so hard?

 

“Should I be expecting an article about this tomorrow?”

“Maybe.”

“Then you can see yourself out.”

 

Sure, I was frustrated, and no, I shouldn’t have grabbed her
arm the way I did, but I had put all my energy that week into keeping a low
profile. I wanted my last week at home to be untainted by her comments. I
wanted one peaceful Sunday with my father.

 

“Let go of me.” She tugged away, and I didn’t fight her.

“Listen, Ash…”

“Ashley.”

“Sorry, Ashley. I’m leaving for law school tomorrow.”

“I know. Columbia.”

“Of course you know.”

“That’s my job, Teddy.”

“Yes, I get that. The thing is, I don’t need any bad press
right now. I have to start…” I stuttered. I was angry, but the way she looked,
standing there in front of me, was making me stutter. God, she had no idea what
she could do to me. I had to reason with her. “Things have to be different. So,
can you just let this one slide? Just this once?”

“I appreciate this heartfelt plea, but again, it’s my job. So,
don’t do anything stupid tonight, and I won’t have anything to report.”

“You know that’s not…”

“Possible?” She cut me off. “Of course it’s not possible. You’re
drawn to chaos and destruction. You don’t care about how your actions affect
other people, your family for example.”

“Excuse me? What do you know of…?”

“You want to run your father’s holding company one day, am I
right?”

“Of course, but what does that have to do with…?”

“But he’d never give you a shot if you stay on the path
you’re on now.”

 

She kept cutting me off. It was frustrating me beyond all
belief.

 

“Well maybe if you stopped twisting every little thing I do
into a headline…”

“Think of me as your teacher. The more I tell the world of
your immature ways, the faster you’ll be forced to grow up.”

“And the more you exaggerate them?”

“The better you’ll do at learning what it is to be an
adult.”

 

That bitch. I had to slow my breathing to make sure my face
didn’t turn beet red with the anger I felt toward her. I don’t know what right
she thought she had to speak to me in that way, but I could’ve bent her over my
knee right then and there and gave her a good spanking.

 

That quick thought of her over my knee turned into a
full-blown fantasy as I stood in the middle of the foyer with her. I have to
tell you, watching a memory of a fantasy as you’re in the process of dying is
one of the more interesting things you could do in your lifetime. Well,
actually, would this moment really be considered part of my lifetime? Or is it
already my afterlife? Are there different schools of studies on this subject?

 

Not the point.

 

The point is, in some episodes of these memories, I was
actually part of them, feeling what was happening, saying the words. At other
points, I was watching them, as if I was an onlooker. I could see myself and I
could hear myself. But with this fantasy, something else happened. I knew that
the night of that party I had a fantasy of Ashley and I, but it was nothing
more than that. I know this event did not happen. I really do know that, one
hundred percent, and at this point in our relationship (the complete and utter
hatred phase), it never would have happened.

 

But as I relived the memory, the fantasy took on a life of
its own. I was in my body, I knew what was coming next, and I let the fantasy
play out.

 

I grabbed her hand and drug her up the stairs into my study.
She was startled, but not resisting me. Without a word, I swung her around and
sat her down in my leather chair. She looked up at me with a bit of concern in
her eyes, but I more so think she was playing the part of the victim. I think
she was enjoying this role-play just as much as I. I then stood up straight and
began circling around her, listing off her misbehaviors. With each bullet
point, she tensed, as she no doubt knew she was in for some sort of
chastisement. I then leaned into her to ask if she was ready to pay for her
crimes. Her breathing labored the closer I got to her face, but it only made
the game more fun. I stood her up, offering a warming smile just to let her
know she was safe. Even while acting out what I knew was a fantasy, I didn’t
want her to have any real fear toward me.

We didn’t know each other that personally yet, so before
entering into any games, I wanted her to be sure she could trust me. I then
unwrapped her scarf from her hair, watching as her curls fell into her face. I
asked her to turn around as I replaced the scarf, but this time over her eyes. My
mouth moved to her ear as I explained that I needed her to fully focus on the
sensation of her punishment, and that taking away her ability to see would
surely aid in that task. Then, I put my hands on her shoulders and described in
detail why I would need to take her jumper off. I then instructed her, if she
ever planned on talking back to me again, to wear a skirt. That would make her
reprimands easier.

While I certainly wasn’t averse to stripping her naked, I
wanted to let her know there were options. I slowly moved my fingers down her
back until I reached her zipper. Then I quickly tugged it down, delighting in
her startled breath. I moved back in front of her, pushing the fabric off her
breasts. They bounced back up; I wanted so badly to suck and bite at her
nipples, but I reminded myself that this moment was about her punishment, not
her pleasure. Denying myself her body would only make the time when I could
finally take her that much sweeter. I forcefully shoved off the rest of her
outfit, taking in the body that was hidden underneath it.

She was even more beautiful than I could’ve imagined, and I
was quite sure she was even more beautiful than I was allowing my fantasy to
imagine. That level of attraction only made my fantasy seem more real. I lead
her back to the chair, where I sat down, spreading my knees out wide. Then I
guided her down across my lap. Her bare back and buttocks were lying in front
of me, for the taking. Her skin glistened from a thin layer of sweat, no doubt
the mixture of the warm summer evening and the growing anticipation. I placed
my palm on her ass, rubbing the spot I was about to strike. I asked her if she
was ready before I pulled my hand back, but I knew what her answer would be. She
would be ready. And she would like it. That’s when I started her punishment. I
punished her again, and again. At first, she begged me to stop, but then she
begged me to continue. And I did continue. I continued to spank her until I had
gotten off from nothing more than her screams.

 

But it was only in my imagination; I knew nothing would come
of it.  

 

“Just leave, Ashley.”

 

Now knowing I had more control over these flashes than I had
originally assumed, I hit the metaphorical pause button. Even as a dead man, I
needed to recover from the fantasy I had just let myself live. Up until that
moment, the memories seemed distant, untouchable. But that one… that one I
felt. I felt my hand on her. I felt my desire for her. I felt myself waking up
to a feeling I had been trying to hide for so long.

 

“Feisty, that one.” My father’s voice snuck up behind me. I
was back in the memory. It started back up without me. Maybe I didn’t have as
much control as I thought.

“Yeah, you could say that.” I groaned.

“Who is she?” He was staring into the crowd after her.

“She’s no one, sir.”

“Don’t lie to me, boy. She’s at our party. She has to be
someone.”

“Really, she’s not worth…”

“Come off it. She’s beautiful, and I don’t know her. That
needs to change.”

 

I knew the look in his eyes and the tone of his voice. He
was determined to find out more about this mystery woman. And if he were to
find out on his own, I was sure it would be in a way that would not be…
healthy… for any party involved.

 

“Her name is Ashley.”

“Ashley what?”

“Leigh. It’s Ashley Leigh.” I groaned her name. This was not
going in a direction that was making me comfortable.

“That sounds familiar. Ashley Leigh.” He rolled her name
around his mouth.

“She writes that column about me.”

 

He stood up straight, staring me in the face. “Son, you know
better than to fraternize with the likes of her.”

“I wasn’t, Sir, believe me. She just showed up and ambushed
me.”

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