His Command: The Black Billionaire's Will (An Erotic Interracial BDSM Romance)
Isabella Dean--Ivy to her friends--a hard-working and determined owner of her own business, has never fallen in love at first sight. But when handsome, pin-striped suited Everett Douglass makes a last minute order and she rushes to complete it, everything starts to change. When Everett insists she attend the event she's catering, with her on his arm, no less, she can't find a way to say no. More
Isabella Dean--Ivy to her friends--a hard-working and determined owner of her own business, has never fallen in love at first sight. But when handsome, pin-striped suited Everett Douglass makes a last minute order and she rushes to complete it, everything starts to change. When Everett insists she attend the event she's catering, with her on his arm, no less, she can't find a way to say no to his stern, demanding persona. Is she ready to embark on a journey that could forever change her life? Can Ivy withstand Everett's demanding will?
Warning: This 7000 word steamy erotic romance features adult situations, sexual discovery, public sex, a building desire, domination and a billionaire that insists on everything being done as he commands it.
Ivy could merely blink and smile. "I'm also crazy for doing this in four days."
"Ambitious," Douglas corrected. His eyes focused in on her, closing just enough to give her an intense, hazel stare.
They studied each other, Douglas poring over the features of a run-of-the-mill, most-likely-chubby blonde girl from Orlando, and Ivy trying not to look like she was staring at somebody that was sculpted and dipped in something that could make pinstriped suits and calm, calculating demeanors. He gave her his best smile, and though she wasn't oblivious, Ivy figured that it was probably his lady killer. She smirked back. The ball was in her court, she supposed.
"Mr. Douglas," she said.
"Please, call me Ever. I insist."
"Well, um...Ever. We're doing a couple of finger sandwiches and two soups. A bunch of other finger foods and some onsite teppanyaki kind of thing combining that with crepes. So Nat is gonna bring you samples of everything, it'll take her awhile to do the grilling thing but for the most part it'll be better on site, is all I can say. We have a flattop back here but it's nothing like what a trained Japanese chef can do." Ivy took a breath before realizing that she may have been rambling. Nervous, she combed a hand back through her hair, shaking her blonde tendrils loose from each other. "Does that sound appetizing?"
"It does," Douglas said. "I have a last minute request, though."
Ivy smiled and nodded. "Okay. What is it? I'm sure I can probably pull a few favors if they know who they're going to be serving at this thing."
"I want you there," he said.
"I'd assumed that we would be there. Nat and I kind of planned the whole thing so that besides the teppanyaki guy we'd be running the crepe bar and stocking, re-stocking," Ivy's brows knit together in worry. "Did I assume wrong? I'm so sorry; I should've cleared it with you first."
"You misunderstand," he said.
Ivy swallowed, feeling an odd lump in the back of her throat. Everett Douglas reached forward and put his hand over hers. The lump turned to pure fear. She felt like she could throw up at any minute. Any second. Now.
"We've been playing cat and mouse for years, Ivy."
She stared up into her piercing green eyes. It was true. They hadn't just been seeing each other at functions for the past few years; Douglas had practically been following her. Every charity they landed, he made sure to be there, suit and tie, looking more and more tempting each time. Alone, too. Always alone. What billionaire can't get a date?
The blonde gave him her best lopsided smile.
"I want you there. With me."
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