Taken By The Billionaire(4)
She stared at me for a long moment, perhaps deciding if I was only flirting or if my treacly tone meant I had a darker motive in mind.
“I’ll even wear Playboy bunny ears if it’ll get me the job, Mister Taylor.” Then she grinned at me to show that maybe she was only joining in the playful banter.
“That,” I said with a widening smile, my lust simmering off the boil, “would get you’re the role for sure.” I spread my hands in a ‘what can I do’ gesture, paused and then, as gently as I could, let the girl down. “If only you had some experience.”
When Kylie’s face crumpled I felt like shit for my unintended cruelty.
I looked at her sitting there, fractured by her sister’s total disregard for anyone but herself.
“Somebody took a chance on you, Mister Taylor,” Kylie said, her chin lifting, refusing to be cowed.
I admired her guts, after all I was a big player in the industry; I’d have expected my reputation to have intimidated the girl. I’ve read the magazine articles about me; I know my reputation as a macho man with an ego the size of a planet, so I was impressed by what I saw as a rare display of courage. I also saw something in Kylie’s face that again put me in mind of Stella, whom I’d loved and lost.
“You only made it to the big time, Mister Taylor, because someone gave you a chance. And you did, you made it.” She swept an arm to encompass my office, nodding at the unprepossessing statuette behind me. “Someone saw what you were capable of and backed you. That’s what I’m asking you to do now, for me, to take a chance on me.”
That floored me. The simple truth in those words was undeniable. That was exactly how I saw it myself. Another emotion besides lust percolated my thinking, maybe there was something in Kylie. She reminded me a lot of Stella, and I realized that the difference between Kylie and a million other girls was that she excited my imagination as well as arousing me physically.
The embryo of a plan formed in my racing mind, an admittedly dark plan, the fragments slowly coming together in a deep corner even as I nodded in agreement at the truth of Kylie’s words.
“I’ll agree to think about thinking about offering you the part, the lead, but what I want is for you to have dinner with me tonight. I want to get to know you better before I make up my mind. I like you, Kylie,” I said sincerely. “I admire your attitude, I like your looks.” I let my eyes linger on her for just long enough to give her a hint I had an interest in her physically, but not too long so I came across as a perv. “I think you’ve got hidden depths and that you might just be as good as you hope you are. I’ll tell you now, however, that if I do decide you’re right for the part, there will be a condition attached.”
“What condition, Mister Taylor?”
“I don’t want to go into that just now. I haven’t fully thought it through myself. But I’ll tell you something, you’ve struck me in a way that’s got me thinking, Kylie. So what do you say, dinner?”
Of course, Kylie agreed, she just didn’t know what else I had in mind. I needed time to work on her, to get to know her better before I laid all my cards on the table.
***
I stared in admiration when Kylie walked into the restaurant. The girl looked gorgeous in a scoop-necked dress that hinted at her body beneath. In contrast to the slutty style of her sister, who flashed as much flesh as it was legal to expose, Kylie possessed grace and style that went some way towards reassuring me that, if she agreed to the condition, she might just pull off the coup she desperately wanted.
When I stood to greet her I noticed the appreciative glances of the male customers and staff as Kylie walked towards me.
Yeah, guys. Look at her. Aren’t you green with envy?
“You look fantastic!” I said with genuine enthusiasm as I pressed a gentle kiss against Kylie’s cheek. I caught a waft of her scent and felt a stirring in my cock but somehow resisted the temptation to put my hands all over her.
Well aware of my pulsing cock, and so aroused I experienced a reckless urge to take Kylie into the bathroom and fuck her in one of the stalls, I said, “When you burst into my office you looked like the girl next door, now look at you. Fuck, you look hot.”
Kylie blushed a pretty pink as she accepted the compliment with a gracious smile.
She settled onto the chair opposite and appraised me with a frank gaze across the short gap between us. “So,” Kylie began, “Is this some kind of casting-couch deal?”
Bold with a primitive flare of desire I went on the offensive immediately. “If it was, Kylie,” I replied, pouring wine into her glass. “Would that be such a bad thing?”