Filthy Hot Billionaire

⚠️ NSFW ⚠️

Thursday, November 2, 2017

Knox Montgomery

A soft knock sounded on my office door seconds before it opened. “Mr. Montgomery, there’s someone here to see you.”

“I don’t have time right now, Betty,” I answered, continuing to type the email I was working on. “Have them make an appointment.”

“I tried. He’s insistent he speaks with you now, sir.”

Peering up from my computer screen, I stared at my assistant, curious as to who could cause the typically calm woman to fray at the edges. “Who is it?”

“A Mr. Rhett Campbell. He’s quite adamant about speaking with you.” She lowered her voice. “If you’d like, I could call security to—”

“Not necessary.” Taking a deep breath, I closed the laptop and stood. “Send him in.”

Of all the people I would’ve expected to make a surprise visit to my office, Rhett Campbell wouldn’t have even made the list. He usually intruded on my personal space, showing up at my residence. Then again, my recent move made it a bit more difficult to find me. And much harder to access.

I buttoned my suit jacket and adjusted my cuffs as I glanced at the calendar on my desk, confirming the date. November second. Every year like clockwork. Give or take a day.

My attention shifted to the door as I watched Rhett stroll in.

The man who ambled into my office was not a formidable man—neither in stature nor demeanor. Despite the fact Rhett was a one-percenter—at present, anyway—he’d always been too complacent to be intimidating, too proud of what little he had to ever strike fear in a man for what he could achieve. Hell, the man couldn’t see past his own hubris to accomplish much of anything.

Of course, Rhett did his best to pretend he was the alpha of the pack, but we both knew his bravado was balanced on a precarious house of cards. And the winds only grew stronger with every passing minute. Had been the case for the past decade, ever since I found out what he and my mother had done. 

I slid my hands into the pockets of my slacks and stepped from behind my desk. “What can I do for you, Rhett?”

As he moved closer, I noticed he was walking a little too fast, his eyes skimming a little too quickly. Definitely nervous. If I didn’t know better, I would’ve said he was under the influence. The wrinkled suit, the way he was sweating and fidgeting, he looked as though he was either high or jonesing for a fix. However, my stepfather wasn’t a junkie, so I knew that wasn’t the reason for his nervous tic.

Rhett seemed fixated on the floor-to-ceiling windows that ran the length of three walls, the corner office offering a view of the surrounding buildings. Not much to look at, but I would admit it was better than staring at walls.

Whatever his curiosity, he was more than likely refusing to look at me, and I couldn’t blame him. He knew I wasn’t happy to see him.

“Rhett?” I repeated, attempting to draw his attention.

He looked at me briefly, then back out the window. “Can we talk?”

The man couldn’t even maintain eye contact. Very interesting.

“We’re capable, if that’s what you’re asking. As for what we might possibly have to discuss…” Returning to my desk, I let the sentence hang because we both knew there was nothing I had to contribute to a conversation with him. I’d said my piece a long time ago, and as far as I was concerned, the issue was only three days away from a rightful resolution.

“Sunday is Emily’s eighteenth birthday,” Rhett said, wiping his brow with the back of his hand.

“I’m well aware.” I tapped the date on the desk calendar as I took a seat in my chair. “Which has me wondering why you’re here. Shouldn’t you be packing up your family?”

Rhett stepped closer to my desk, but he didn’t take a seat. Instead, he stared down at me for a moment as though he wasn’t sure how to proceed.

“I’ve got things to do,” I informed him. “What do you need?”

“I’d like to make a proposition,” he said on a huff of air.

“Would you?” Steepling my fingers, I smiled. This should be interesting.

“An amendment to our original agreement,” Rhett clarified.

I’d figured as much.

“I’m quite content with the terms.” I met his wild gaze momentarily. “I don’t see a reason to modify anything.”

Come Sunday morning, I would be adding another company to my current portfolio, as well as a few numbers to my net worth. Neither of which I needed, but it was the principle of the matter.

“I can’t lose my home or my business,” Rhett blurted, his brown eyes slamming into my face. “It’s all I’ve got.”

“You’ve got a wife and a daughter,” I reminded him.

“I know. And I’m doing this for her.”

For her. Not for them. I didn’t care for the direction this was headed.

I kept my tone calm and controlled. “You probably should’ve thought about that when you stole seventy million dollars from me.”

Rhett’s thick eyebrows darted down. “You know I didn’t steal that money.”

“You’re right. Your wife stole the money.”

“She’s your mother,” Rhett countered hotly.

“She is.” I gave him a mirthless smile. “That doesn’t make it okay.”

“I…” Rhett took a deep breath, seemed to calm himself. “I’ve apologized for what happened. And I fully understand that you’re upset.”

I didn’t think pleading his case and begging for mercy qualified as an apology, but I let it go.

I shook my head. “I’m not upset. I’m quite content, in fact.”

Rhett’s eyes were wide, beseeching. “I’m here to throw myself on your mercy, Knox. I’ll do anything. Give you anything. Just … don’t take it all away.”

I cocked an eyebrow, pretended to consider his proposition. As it was, Rhett Campbell would lose everything as of 12:01 a.m. on Sunday. Everything except for whatever millions he might have in the bank. Based on the contract he’d signed, every physical possession he owned would become mine on the day his daughter turned eighteen, the day she became officially legal to take care of herself. It was the least he owed me after he and my mother deceived me the way they had.

I got to my feet, preparing to dismiss him. “You have nothing to offer me, Rhett.”

“Surely there’s something.”

“I’m already taking your houses, your cars, and your company.” I barked a laugh. “Short of your only child, you’ve got nothing left.”

“Emily?” he said as though just now realizing she was a part of his life.

Rhett’s eyebrows rose, and I didn’t care for the gleam that came into his eyes.

“What if…” Rhett swallowed again and squared his shoulders. “You can have Emily.”

I stared at him, frowned. What the ever-loving fuck?

I was not a man who was usually at a loss for words, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t wrap my head around what he was offering me.

“You can have her,” Rhett repeated, his words coming faster. “I can’t lose my company. I just can’t. It’ll devastate Kitty. It’s a fair trade.”

A fair trade? Was he fucking insane?

“What do you say, Knox?” Rhett’s eyes flashed with hope as he stepped forward. “Do we have a deal?”

The man was absolutely out of his fucking mind, and though my own dark and twisted desires urged me to take what he was offering, it wasn’t an option. Not now, not ever.

“No, we don’t have a fucking deal,” I ground out fiercely, masking my expression. “You’ve had plenty of time to get your affairs in order. I think I’ve been more than fair.”

For three years running, Rhett had shown up in person to make a formal request that I give him more time to tend to things. Each time he seemed more stressed, as though his feeble world was already crumbling at his feet. Which, I figured, for Rhett, was probably the case based solely on the fact he was married to my mother, Katherine Marie Wybler Campbell, a.k.a. Kitty. Because she was nothing more than a gold-digging whore, the cracks in his foundation were likely growing direr each day. We both knew the minute Rhett lost everything, Kitty would move on to a bigger payout, and he would be left with nothing.

Hence the reason he was here offering up his own child as payment.

The man was as fucked up as my mother.

“Are you suggesting I haven’t been fair?” I prompted, wanting him to get on with it.

He studied my face as though searching for salvation. He certainly wouldn’t find it with me. 

“Knox, please.”

The plea in his tone was likely meant to tug at my heartstrings, but it didn’t work. I’d lost all respect for Rhett back when I’d originally found out what he and my mother had done. Even more so now that I knew he was willing to barter his only child.

“Surely there’s something I can do,” he stated, his shoulders squaring. “Give me more time.”

“More time to what? Do right by your daughter?”

He was watching me intently when I noticed another gleam come into his eyes.

“Yes,” he said quickly. “You’re right. I haven’t done right by my daughter. I just need more time.”

I thought about the last time I’d gone to visit my mother and encountered Emily. It had been more than a year since I’d laid eyes on my stepsister.

Granted, I had never viewed Emily as such. Hell, I’d never been around her long enough to establish any sort of bond, much less one of a sibling. Truth was, I hadn’t given Emily much thought at all initially. My mother had been married to her father for all of three months when I moved out of Rhett’s house. And during those brief weeks I’d resided there, I had viewed Rhett’s then seven-year-old daughter as nothing more than a pest. Since the day I’d hightailed it out of that house, moving to New York to start the life I was meant to live, I only saw Emily on the occasional holiday. Even those were few and far between, considering my complete distaste for my mother and stepfather thanks to their heinous betrayal.

Of course, Kitty and Rhett weren’t the only reasons I stayed away. However, I preferred to use that simple explanation rather than try to rationalize or, God forbid, explain the shift that had taken place inside me that one fateful day three years ago during a brief holiday visit to the Campbell estate.

It had started like any other visit I had scheduled, with me planning to blow through Kitty and Rhett’s life, looking forward to making them miserable while they pretended all was right in the world. I had returned, fired up to piss off my mother, but my intentions shifted almost instantly upon my arrival when I caught sight of my then fifteen-year-old stepsister standing on the balcony of her bedroom, overlooking the ocean. Her hair had been long then, the silky dark tresses curling down her back, blowing in the gentle breeze, caressing her alabaster skin. Her elbows rested on the railing, her chin in her palm as she stared out, seemingly deep in thought. I still remembered what she’d been wearing—light blue cotton shorts and a thin, nearly see-through tank top. The mere sight of her had struck something deep inside me at the same time it made my dick hard.

Fifteen fucking years old, and Emily had captivated me in a way no woman ever had. To this day, I’d never seen anyone so beautiful. Or so incredibly sad.

My reaction to her had been inappropriate, to say the least, and it was more than the fact that I was eleven years older than her. The problem was, I was a man who embraced his dark desires, and at that moment, Emily had tempted me like nothing I’d ever known. Which was the very reason I’d kept my visits short and infrequent since then. I never trusted myself to be alone with her. Still didn’t.

Not that it had mattered. Every time I saw Emily, I found myself more and more ensnared by her, my desire to do dirty things to her intensified. And the older she got, the deeper my obsession became. There was no doubt in my mind that seeing Emily now would have disastrous results.

And that was what had me saying, “Three more years, Rhett.”

His eyebrows popped up, and hope glittered in his dull brown eyes.

“You have until Emily’s twenty-first birthday.”

“I’ll take it,” he bit out.

I stood. “Good. Expect to get the amended paperwork from my lawyers by the end of the day.” I motioned toward the door. “See yourself out.”

If Rhett had said thank you, I would’ve considered punching him in the face. After all, I wasn’t doing this for him.

Several hours later, I found myself relaying the details of Rhett’s visit to the man who’d become my closest confidant in recent years.

“He did what?”

I pulled the top from the decanter, poured the single malt into two Glencairn glasses. “He showed up at my office and used his only daughter as a bargaining chip.”

A dark chuckle sounded before, “The man has no shame.”

I glanced over my shoulder, smirking. “That he does not.”

“I have to admit, it was a good hand to play.”

I glared at him. “Emily is my stepsister.”

His eyebrows waggled. “I know. Sinful and taboo. A delectable combination.”

Kieran O’Rourke was the king of taboo. The Irishman was known in our circles as the one to keep an eye on at all times. I’d known him for close to two years, been in business with him for six months, so I could attest that the rumors as to his devious desires were true, although I didn’t have firsthand experience.

Then again, my own desires ran pretty dark, and I had no shame when it came to them. For one, I was openly bisexual, which was not the norm for most on the Forbes Top 100 list. My sexual orientation was a hot topic among my competitors, something the media loved to exploit during their attempts to belittle me and my success. Add to that the fact I wasn’t into monogamy, and I was often classified as the billionaire playboy. But I did have my limits, which was the very reason I’d walked away from my sweet, innocent stepsister all those years ago.

“A little too taboo for my taste,” I told him.

“Never too much of a good thing.” Kieran took the glass I offered, cradled it in his hand. “Thanks.”

I loosened my tie, freed the top button on my shirt as I took a seat in the armchair angled beside his. “He waltzed right in and pretty much offered her up on a silver platter.”

“Personally, I would’ve jumped at the opportunity.” Kieran sniffed his drink before taking a sip. “That stepbrother/stepsister stuff is bloody hot.”

I swirled the whiskey before taking a sip, glanced his way. “A bit cliché, even for you.”

“What? I like the idea of you taking your stepsister as payment for a debt. There’s…”

“A porn theme?” I filled in when he paused.

“I was going to say promise.” He chuckled. “But I like your version, too. Is she hot?”

I wasn’t going to dignify that question with a response, but mentally I was thinking she wasn’t so much hot as she was mind-numbingly beautiful.

And so fucking sweet.

Too sweet.

“I know that look,” Kieran said, his brogue thicker, his tone rougher. “Tell me about her.”

“It’s not like that,” I lied.

He cut his eyes to me. “Bullshit.” 

I hated that Kieran could see right through me. The man knew me better than anyone. Sometimes I thought he knew me better than I knew myself.

It was true. I was obsessed with Emily. Had been since I’d seen her on the balcony. So much so, I’d inserted my own employee in the Campbell residence to oversee Emily’s day-to-day, paid to keep me apprised.

Like I said, obsessed.

Three years and counting, and this morning’s encounter with her father hadn’t done anything to help my obsession. Actually, it might’ve spurred it more.

“Tell me about her, Knox,” Kieran repeated as he shifted, crossing his long legs at the knee, looking regal, which seemed to be his default setting.

Kieran was a striking man with his dark chocolate-brown hair, midnight-blue eyes, his prominent rounded chin, and high cheekbones, but his good looks didn’t fool me. He might look like a man women wanted to sully themselves beneath and men wanted to imitate, but Kieran O’Rourke was in a league of his own. He was experimenting with his hair again, this time going for the close-cropped look. He’d taken a page from my stylist’s playbook, going shorter on the sides, a little longer on the top, and it looked good on him. Especially with the clean-shaven jaw and those thick, dark eyebrows. Then again, most styles did. And he filled out an Armani suit like no one I’d ever met.

But Kieran’s looks weren’t the only thing he had going for him. For many, his wealth played a big part in his appeal, but not for me. He hadn’t been born into money the way I had. He’d built his fortune brick by brick, proving himself a brilliant, if not ruthless, businessman. But he wasn’t your regular, everyday billionaire. He didn’t believe in playing it safe. Not in the boardroom and certainly not in the bedroom, which was something else I admired in him.

His devilish desire to hit where it hurt the most was what had attracted me to him initially. And I wasn’t talking physically on either count. Kieran was capable of uncovering people’s weaknesses as though they’d whispered them in his ear. He was brilliant when it came to getting what he wanted.

“Fine, don’t tell me about the girl,” Kieran grumbled, his disappointment evident.

“I hadn’t planned on it.”

“Tell me this. What exactly is it you hold over your stepfather?”

I exhaled heavily, staring out the wall of windows at the city. The view from here was far more appealing than the one from my office, but it was still just a view. I wasn’t enchanted by the hustle and bustle of the city the way some people were, although New York felt more like home to me than anywhere else. 

“He stole from me.” I cut a sideways look his way. “But you know that already.”

“Tell me the story,” he urged.

I tossed back the rest of my drink and pushed to my feet. “It’s not important.”

I could feel Kieran’s eyes on me as I moved over to the sideboard and poured more scotch into my glass. I tossed it back, hating the fury I felt whenever I thought about my mother and what she’d done. But my anger wasn’t because of my disappointment in her. No, I was pissed because of how Emily had been hurt by it all. Cast aside as though she hadn’t mattered. By God, she mattered. To me, she was everything.

I added more to my glass, but before I could pick it up, Kieran stopped me, gripping my arm.

“I want to know.”

I turned to face him, met his gaze, and held it momentarily.

“I want to know everything about you,” Kieran said, stepping into my personal space.

I’d gotten used to his forwardness in the time I’d known him. Kieran had been making advances since the very first day I’d been introduced to him. At the same time, he’d gotten used to my rejection, but that never seemed to deter him. No matter how many times I pushed him away, he always came back for more, pecking away at my restraint, looking for a way in. I got the feeling he knew he was close to accomplishing his goal because he was getting more insistent, more seductive with his methods.

I studied his face, the high cheekbones, the perfect lips. “You know the important things.”

His voice lowered as he leaned closer. “I know nothing.”

For a brief moment, I considered taking what this man offered. I knew if I would only give in, I could sate some of this overwhelming lust that churned in my veins. No matter how many women or men I fucked, I was never sated fully, and I suspected there were two reasons for that.

One: Emily Campbell.

Two: Kieran O’Rourke.

My initial infatuation with Emily had been multiplied tenfold when Kieran came into my life. I couldn’t even ascertain why, but something prompted me to start fantasizing about the two of them together. That was what got me off during the sexual encounters with nameless, faceless people. That was what got me off during the cold, lonely nights when I tossed and turned, my thoughts always returning to them.

“You’re thinking about her again,” Kieran whispered.

He was close enough now I could feel his body heat through the crisp white shirt he wore. I knew beneath that shirt was a body primed by a dedicated gym regimen and a mostly healthy diet, save for the copious amounts of whiskey he drank and his affinity for breakfasts made for kings. I found him insanely attractive, I wouldn’t deny that.

I held my ground, refusing to back down.

That was my first mistake.

I inhaled sharply when Kieran’s knuckles lightly grazed the iron-hard length of my cock behind the expensive material of my slacks.

“Don’t do this, Kieran,” I warned.

“Don’t do what?” he taunted, his knuckles brushing more insistently now. “I know you think about it. It’s time you stop fighting it.”

I narrowed my gaze, daring him to continue.

“Tell me,” he demanded, his hand turning so that he was cupping me firmly, the heel of his palm gliding firmly down the length of my cock.

“Fuck,” I hissed, my hips belying my will to resist, thrusting forward to add friction on my aching dick.

“Tell me … about her,” Kieran growled, stepping closer so that his lips nearly brushed mine. “Tell me all the filthy fucking things you want to do to her, Knox.”

I was tempted. No doubt about it, but I refrained, refusing to give in.

“Fine.” Kieran’s fingers went to my belt. “I’ll tell you what I want you to do to her.”

He held my gaze while he unhooked the belt, flipped the button free. I could’ve stopped him, could’ve shoved him away. Kieran gave me every opportunity, but I remained where I was, allowing him to free my cock.

“I want you to strip her slowly,” he said, his breath fanning my mouth as he lowered the zipper then slipped his hand inside my slacks.

“She’s a goddamn teenager,” I ground out.

“Eighteen in two days, right?” he clarified. “The age of consent in the US.”

“Doesn’t make it right,” I countered.

Kieran continued as though the age factor was no longer relevant. “When she’s naked, I want to watch while she goes to her knees and takes your cock between her lips.”

That damn voice, the smooth cadence, the Irish lilt … it made me fucking crazy, made me want things I knew I shouldn’t.

I hissed when he took me in his fist, his thick fingers curling tightly as he stroked me.

“Kieran…”

“You don’t want that?”

“Yeah,” I snarled roughly. “I want that. I want her on her knees with my cock in her mouth. I want to fuck her face, to watch as she swallows me down.”

I’d fantasized about it plenty over the years, more each and every time I received an updated photograph of Emily. She grew more and more beautiful every fucking day. So fucking sweet. So goddamn innocent. I wanted to dirty her the way Kieran said, to use her luscious body while she took her pleasure from me.

But I wouldn’t forsake her just to have her. I wasn’t a goddamn cliché. I had no intention of using her as a pawn in this fucked-up game my mother had initiated. Emily was the one and only thing off-limits.

I groaned low in my throat when Kieran stroked me more firmly, his pace increasing as my cock swelled impossibly in his hand.

His lips brushed mine, but I held off kissing him. It was futile, I knew, but I refused to give in completely.

“But more than that,” I rumbled, knowing this was the part that would get me in trouble. This was what made me fear pursuing Emily, introducing her to my world.

“Tell. Me,” Kieran rumbled, nipping my lower lip.

I groaned low in my throat. “I want you to lay her out and bury your face in her pussy.”

He moaned softly, his fingers flexing on my cock. “Keep going.”

“While you taste her sweetness, I want to smell her desire, to hear her pleas.”

“You want to watch.”

I squeezed my eyes shut, succumbing to the pleasure. “I want to watch.”

It was my Achille’s heel, my one genuine desire. I wanted to watch Kieran pleasure Emily and vice versa. I wanted to stand in the shadows and observe, to admire them while they devoured one another. I wanted to play the voyeur to all their sinful encounters, to witness the first time Kieran kissed her, touched her, fucked her tight pussy, drilled her delectable little ass. And I wanted to bear witness to Emily riding Kieran’s cock, seeing the sheer ecstasy etched on his handsome face. I wanted to hear their combined moans as they brought one another to orgasm. 

Kieran nipped my lower lip as he pressed his cock against my thigh. He still had me firmly in hand, and he was stroking more insistently now. I would come; it was inevitable.

“Don’t stop now,” he urged.

I had to. I couldn’t keep thinking about Emily like this. It felt like a betrayal in itself. She was too innocent for this. She didn’t deserve to be the object of my fantasies.

“We’re going to fuck her,” Kieran bit out as though daring me to deny it.

Rather than agree, I slammed him against the bookcase and crushed my mouth to his. My tongue stabbed against his as I rutted into his hand, fucking his fist. Kieran kissed me back, a thrashing of tongues and teeth as he grabbed my ass, jerking me toward him so he was still in control. I fought him for dominance, pumping my hips and taking what he offered. I was seconds from coming when he suddenly stopped, pushing me back.

I panted, ready to slay him for fucking with me, but before I could, Kieran went to his knees and took my cock in his mouth.

“Fucking hell,” I hissed.

His eyes never left mine, and I could see the challenge glittering in the deep-blue orbs. He wanted me to take what I wanted from him, to use him the way I’d fantasized on more than one occasion.

“Don’t think I won’t,” I growled, fisting his hair in one hand and bracing the other on the bookshelf behind him.

I wasn’t gentle as I drove past his lips and into his throat.

Kieran’s eyes sparkled as his mouth worked over me. He didn’t gag, didn’t resist, just let me face-fuck him until I was breathless and groaning in earnest.

“Swallow,” I demanded, tightening my fist in his hair as I let myself go.

He sucked hard, his cheeks hollowing, my cock jerking, cum flooding his mouth.

“Goddammit,” I groaned, pulling back and tucking my cock away.

I stumbled over to the sideboard, grabbed my drink, and headed to the windows, trying to catch my breath.

“I fucking hate you for that.”

Kieran’s voice came from right behind me when he said, “No, you don’t.”

No, I didn’t. I’d fought this attraction between us for so long now, it had become second nature.

“This is just the beginning,” Kieran whispered, his lips brushing the back of my neck. “Just. The. Beginning.”

I took a deep breath, shored my resolve, and turned to face him. “But tonight … it’s the end. Get out.”

He didn’t seem surprised by my callousness, nor was he offended if the smirk on his fucking mouth was anything to go by.