Anonymous Encounters(16)

But instead, when the doors whooshed open, I was greeted by a luxurious  reception area. What the? With a hesitant step, I entered the clean,  white, and even airy space. How did they get it to appear airy when we  had to be far below the earth's surface? Why did a supply closet in a  strip mall open up to a reception area like this?

A woman stepped forward then, middle-aged and professional, dressed in a black suit.

"Welcome to the Billionaires Club," she intoned. "You are Ms. Smith I presume? Mr. Jones is waiting for you."

I gulped, interrupting.

"I'm sorry," I said slowly. "But I have no idea what's going on. Could  you tell me a little about this place, please?" I asked, gesturing to  the soaring white walls, plants that were verdant and green despite the  fact that there was no natural sunlight. And taking a deep breath, I  went for it. "What's the Billionaires Club? I've never heard of it?"

The woman cocked her head curiously at me.

"Mr. Jones didn't tell you?" she inquired.

I shook my head.

"No and I'm not even sure I know who Mr. Jones is. The man I know is  named Donovan, his last name could be Jones but I'm not sure."

The woman stared curiously at me again but didn't pry. Instead, she  responded smoothly. "Of course, Mr. Jones is Donovan Jones. He's a  member here at the Club and he's waiting for you downstairs."

I could tell she wanted me to move on, but I stubbornly resisted.

"I'm so sorry, but can you tell me more about this club? I'm lost, I was  whisked here in a car, and I've only met Donovan Jones a handful of  times."

The look in her eye was professional and smooth, even if there was a knowing glint.

"Of course, I'm happy to give you an overview," she replied courteously.  "The Billionaires Club is exactly what it sounds like. A private club  for male billionaires, here in the Nevada desert."         

     



 

That made me pause.

"Billionaires?" I asked slowly. "Not millionaires or multi-millionaires?"

The woman's chuckle was low and throaty.

"Absolutely not. Membership in the club is offered only to the elite,  and all of our members are worth ten figures. Again, this is a club for  billionaires only," she stressed.

My mind whirred but did not compute. Ten figures? Holy cow, I could  hardly even envision that much money. Would that fill up a room with  cash? Would the zeros wiggle and melt before your eyes? I didn't have  much more than two nickels to rub together, so the sheer amount was  mind-blowing, throwing me for a loop.

But I caught myself.

"I'm sorry, but is Mr. Jones a member?" I asked slowly. "So he has a billion dollars?"

The woman looked at me archly.

"It's not for me to comment on any particular member's finances, but I  assure you, the Club's vetting process is thorough and exhaustive. Not  only that, but Mr. Jones has been a member for many years now."

That threw me for a loop. Donovan was a rich man, and not just rich, but  filthy rich evidently. I shook my head, unable to reconcile fantasy  with reality. Because my alpha had been looking for girls online,  surfing around on Discreet Encounters for anonymous girls to fingerfuck.  Why would someone who had a billion dollars do that? Couldn't he afford  a private matchmaker, or at least splurge on the premium membership  with Match.com? Surely there had to be better ways than a free  subscription with some no-name website.

But against all odds, Discreet Encounters had led me to this man, and  this was his space. This was where he called home, or at least some kind  of private area. And the middle-aged woman was already striding off  briskly in her suit, heels clacking. She paused momentarily, turning to  look at me.

"Coming?" she asked, just a tinge of annoyance in her voice. "This way,"  she corrected herself immediately, utterly polite once more, even  bowing her head a bit.

With numb steps, I followed, feeling shabby and uncouth in the gleaming  confines of the building. My escort's behavior didn't bother me, I'm  used to everyone looking down on me. After all, I'm a dowdy part-time  librarian, hardly the type of girl to command attention, hardly the type  to be the star of the show. It was only recently that things had been  different. Only Donovan had had the insight to see beneath my staid  exterior, visualizing my bountiful curves, treating me like I was a  fantastically sexy female, and not a bumpy lump on the wall.

So without a word, I trailed after my escort, barely able to breathe.  Everything in the building was off-the-charts luxurious, from the simple  yet expensive-looking furniture, to the floral arrangements, colorful  and exotic against gleaming white walls. Even the staff seemed designed  to serve with polished efficiency, moving quietly through the gleaming  corridors with soft, almost silent steps.

"I'm sorry," I interrupted again, placing a hand on the woman's elbow.

The black-haired woman shot a quick glance at me, stiffening oh so  slightly. What, did she not like to be touched? Was she more robot than  human? My hand dropped immediately, like I'd been scalded.

"I'm sorry," I tried again, meekly this time. "But where are we going? I  feel like we're underground somewhere, and you're leading me just  deeper underground?" Because we'd taken an escalator that with smooth  efficiency, rolled four or five stories down a steep slope before  opening into another airy atrium. I swear, it was amazing that these  spaces felt light and welcoming given that there were no windows  whatsoever.

My handler replied.

"Mr. Jones is waiting for you in the play area," she bit out briskly. "We'll be there shortly."

I nodded, forced to accept her answer. Evidently there'd be no further  clarification why she was taking me to this so-called play area, or what  in fact awaited me there. So nodding, my heart beat quickly, chest  tight. My only consolation as we made our way through the neverending  hallways was that I wanted to see Donovan again, and if he'd summoned me  to the play area, then so be it. I trusted him, I was fine so far, and  the alpha would make sure nothing would happen to me.         

     



 

Finally, we stopped before a gleaming metal door, featureless but for a button on the side.

"We're here," the woman said peremptorily. "I'll leave you now."

And with a bow, she pressed the button and the doors whisked open. I was  astonished by what I saw inside. Because this play area was a nothing  more than a white cube, completely empty except for what looked like a  washing machine against the wall, and my man. Oh yeah, Donovan was here,  waiting for me, casual and relaxed and utterly gorgeous in a black  suit.

I stepped in, the door whooshing shut, all thoughts of my escort gone.

"Daddy?" I whispered. "What is this place?"

He was on me in a moment, running big hands through my curls, bending to press a tender kiss to my lips.

"This is the play area, baby," he rumbled, that voice already sending  shivers down my spine. "Or more accurately, this is a play area. There  are many play areas within the clubs," he said with an amused  half-smile.

My eyes closed for a moment.

"But Daddy," I said slowly, our fingers interlocked. "I don't get it.  What is this club? What is this place?" I asked, gesturing with my  hands. "Why are we underground?"

He chuckled low in his chest.

"Baby, didn't Melinda tell you? This is the Billionaires Club, where billionaires come to play."

That made me stop short again.

"But are you really a billionaire?" I asked, dumbfounded. "Really, truly?"

He chuckled, flashing that movie star smile.

"Really, truly, baby girl. Why do I not look like one?" he said, gesturing to his suit.

I gaped, mouth immediately going dry. Because truth be told, this was  the first time I was seeing Donovan under clear, bright lights. Our  previous encounters I'd been turned around, or it'd been dark and I'd  only gotten a glimpse of penetrating blue eyes and awesome masculine  features.

But now, seeing him in the open, my quick glimpses hadn't been wrong.  Because the alpha was devastatingly gorgeous in every way. I'd never  realized just how tall he was, and now, he loomed over me, dwarfing my  modest five four. Plus, the man was built. I'd felt him pressing against  me, the heavy musculature pushing me into the ground, making me feel  feminine and soft, but now, face to face with the awesome physicality,  my mouth went completely dry, words refusing to come out.

Because Donovan was a god. The black tee outlined a chiseled chest and  strong arms, torso dipping into a vee before showing off thick, hard  thighs. And oh god, even through those trousers I could see the outline  of what I wanted so bad. That snake, the enormous python was there,  curved around his waist, a ridge visible beneath the heavy material.

My silence was tell-tale because a low chuckle roused me from my trance.

"Cat got your tongue?" the big man drawled lazily. "Something got you distracted baby?"