My Not-So-One-Night Stand With a Billionaire

Makenna.

“Nope. No. My God, what is this?” my editor, Seraphine Jones, sighed as she flipped another page. “Mmm hmm. No freaking way.” She flipped another page. “Just no.” Letting out another deep sigh that echoed throughout her small office, she lifted her gaze to me, throwing the manuscript I just gave her on her piled-up desk. “What’s going on, Makenna? Talk to me.”

“What do you mean, dear Sera?” I shot her an innocent look.

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Cut the crap. I thought we talked about this. Your boring style of writing might have worked out for you just fine these past three years but you’ve come to the end of the line. No one wants to read this shit anymore.”

I resisted the urge to wince at the blunt force of her words. She was right; we had had this conversation before. Many times, in fact. All of which always left me feeling less confident in myself than I usually did, which in truth wasn’t a lot.

“I know but I’m trying. Just give it a chance, please. You haven’t even read the whole thing.”

Sera shook her head. “I don’t need to, Makenna. The first two pages almost bored me to death. Makenna, you have to spice things up or you’ll lose your readers which means I’ll lose money, which in turn means you’re going to be out of a job.”

For the first time since Sera and I have been going back and forth regarding my writing style, fear gripped me. She’d never said it out loud until today that I could become jobless. The writing industry was as flexible as a rubber and I’d seen how desperately writers had to adapt to their readers’ tastes or lose their hold in the market.

Was that really going to happen to me? My career was barely three years old. I would become a laughingstock.

“I’ve done everything. Explored new tropes, adopted a different writing style. What else can I do?”

“Heat,” Sera deadpanned. “Give me something spicy.”

“Spicy?” I echoed.

My editor slapped her hand to her forehead. “Sex, Makenna. People want to read smut. Does that make sense to you?”

I blinked, staring at her. As a contemporary romance writer, my books were strictly on the PG-13 side. I never ventured further than that, and I didn’t even want to. After releasing my second book last year, I’d gone online to read the reviews. While some critics had applauded my unique writing style, most of my readers had commented about the lack of spice.

It was the first time it occurred to me that maybe it was a problem and now that Sera had voiced it aloud, my suspicions were confirmed.

My readers wanted me to write about sex. The one thing I couldn’t do.

“Makenna?”

My gaze snapped to Sera and I swallowed. “Yes. I’m here.”

“So? Are you going to give the people what they want?”

I would be happy to, but it would be quite difficult given that I’d never had sex before.

“Uh…” I trailed out. “Sera, about that…”

“It’s very simple, actually,” Sera continued, oblivious to my plight. “All you have to do is write out some of your experiences. It’s okay if you don’t want to be too explicit but there should be some extremely detailed descriptions. You know what I’m talking about, right?”

My cheeks heated. While some might call me a prude, I liked to think I was just an innocent. Unlike most people, I didn’t think sex was something I needed to engage in to feel normal. Besides, normal was overrated. But I was a twenty-five-year-old virgin and in today’s world, that was practically unheard of. I couldn’t even believe I was ashamed to admit it out loud.

“Uh.. yeah,” I muttered, my face burning. “I think so. Sex,” I chuckled with uncertainty. “I’ve had a look at that. Too many to count.”

My editor seemed pleased. “Good. Good. That’s exactly what you need to write about. Pick the craziest experience you’ve had and put it into words. Make sure there’s spanking and screaming. Readers love that kind of weird stuff.”

I winced. Spanking during sex? Why did it sound so painful? My best friend always described it to be an earth-shattering experience. And what did Sera mean by screaming? Fear gripped me. Anything that required you to scream during it did not sound like something I wanted to participate in.

Regardless, I cleared my throat and nodded firmly. “Sure. I mean, I’ve been spanked before. Plenty of times.”

At that, Sera gave me an odd look. “Save it for your readers, Makenna.”

‘Right. I’ll go and uh…add in some…uh…smut.”

Sera nodded. “You do that. Alright, I’ll see you later. I have some work to do.”

“Right.” I nodded again, feeling very scared for my future. But if I were to give up writing, I’d replace it with living a life of crime so no, thanks. I’m good.

I walked out of her office, sighing audibly. How was I supposed to write a sex scene when I hadn’t ever experienced one? In all my twenty-five years, the only thing I’ve wanted to do was tell stories. I grew up reading novels, falling in love with words and making them a part of me. Nothing else had mattered. Especially not boys.

Most of my stories were indirectly based on the people around me and the whole world at large. I heard a story or saw something worth dissecting and I poured all of that inspiration into words. In truth, I didn’t like a lot of people. They tended to have this annoying ability of either breathing too loudly or saying the wrong thing. Simply put, I wasn’t anti-people; I was anti-stupid.

As it was, I couldn’t even watch two people kissing without blushing like a tomato. I was incredibly shy and had only liked one person in my entire life. That had been a complete failure, given that he preferred my sister.

Besides, growing up, my twin sister, Mackenzie, had been the one whom all the boys liked. Definitely more stylish and refined than me, even though we literally had the same face, there had always been something about her that made all the boys ache with need.

Maybe it was because she was a social butterfly and I was the exact opposite of that. Either way, it had never bothered me that Mackenzie took all the spotlight. I’d been happy to stand in the background with my head buried between the pages of a book, while she gleefully went through boyfriends like she was changing underwear.

My parents' blatant favoritism of Mackenzie certainly hadn’t helped. They’d painted me as the black sheep of the family, never mind that I was the quiet one. Not only did they disapprove of my chosen career path, they urged me to be more like my sister because she was the epitome of everything they wanted in a child.

It had stung at first, but as time went on I’d learned to live with it. There was nothing I could do to change their minds towards me and that was okay. They were still my parents and I loved them regardless.

Now at the garage, I got into my Kia Forte and turned on the engine. Regarding my rejected manuscript, I was at an impasse. Usually, I always conduct research before starting a new book. Now, however, that research was complicated since it entailed my involvement in the actual act. It begged the question: did I really want to lose my virginity for the sake of my readers? Was I ready to make such a drastic decision just because some people expected me to?

As the engine roared to life, it took me approximately five seconds to make a decision.

I needed to have sex; it was time to be spanked.

Makenna.

“Say what?” my best friend, Yasmine, gawked at me. “Did you just say you want to have sex?”

My eyes roamed the spacious cafe urgently, checking to see if anyone was looking our way. “Can you keep your voice down?”

“Bitch, no. I won’t keep my voice down,” she responded, though her voice lowered a few notches. “I’ve been trying to get you to lose your V card for five freaking years and you’re going to do it just because a few faceless people say so?”

Here I was thinking she would advise me against it. It was too much to ask, apparently.

“Don’t call them that,” I said softly. “My readers are very dear to me.”

“Oh, boo hoo,” Yasmine clicked her tongue. “I’m supposed to be dear to you.”

I smiled at her annoyed expression. “You know you are.”

Yasmine was a curly red-haired bundle of delight. We’d been friends since college and were as close as best friends could get. Sometimes, I secretly wished she was my twin instead of Mackenzie but if wishes were horses, beggars would ride.

Yasmine and I were also very different people. Where she was extroverted, I was introverted. Where she liked meeting people and having fun, I preferred to be in the comfort of my bed, with a mug of chocolate tea in one hand and a book in the other. But Yasmine had been the first person to genuinely ask me to be her friend and this was after she’d met Mackenzie.

She owned the downtown café we were currently sitting in. I was usually busy in the daytime but Yas had installed new seats in a secluded corner that was exclusive to just the both of us so I never had to worry about standing in line or mixing up with other people. Another thing Yas did for me that I really appreciated.

“Well, seeing as you’ve finally seen the light, I know just the best place to start looking.”

“For what?”

“The right person to take your V card, of course.”

Oh, my God. This was actually happening. I couldn’t believe it. Yasmine looked even more excited than I did. “You know I don’t do well with strangers.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re thinking about it too much, Maki. Just relax.”

I nodded, sipping the iced tea Yasmine ordered for me. “Okay. Okay. Tell me about this place.”

“Yes.” She brought out her phone from her pocket and swiped at the screen a few times before turning it to me. “It’s a singles' party happening tonight at The Cabana.”

I scrunched my brows in confusion as I peered down at the event flier, already having second thoughts. “Where’s that?”

“It’s the most popular club in the Storme City. Though I don’t expect you to know that.”

“Okay,” I said, sitting up. “Let’s do this.”

A shadow of doubt flashed across Yasmine’s beautiful face. “Are you sure you’re not going to back out of this? Tell me if you are so I don’t waste my time, Maki.”

Honestly, I wasn’t entirely sure this was what I wanted. But between being single since the day I was born and being scared of dying as a virgin, the choice wasn’t really a difficult one to make.

Just like Sera said, I needed to spice things up or I would lose relevance with my audience and if that happened, then my life was over. My career, my future and my self-confidence depended on this. If I had to have sex with someone to preserve everything I’d worked so hard to get in the past three years, then it was a small price to pay.

Meeting Yasmine’s gaze, I nodded. “I’m ready.”

****

I was so not ready.

The Cabana— what a ridiculous name— was located on the outskirts of the city, a good forty-five minutes drive from my apartment. Yas held my hand as we navigated through the maze of sweaty bodies and blaring music to the bar located at the left corner of the club.

What the hell was I doing here? With my free hand, I pushed down the short red dress Yas made me wear. If it went any higher, my butt would be on full display. My straight dark hair was curled into body waves and they fell down my back. Yas had applied smokey eye makeup on me and a bright red lipstick. I was so uncomfortable that the urge to scratch my face was prominent.

I reminded myself why I was here. For my readers. For my future.

When we reached the bar, Yas turned to me. “What would you like to drink?”

I shrugged. “Anything.” While she ordered the drinks, I turned to look around the club. The pounding bass reverberated through my chest, a palpable force that seemed to swallow me whole. My hands were clammy and my heart was racing, feeling like an intruder in a world that was not meant for someone like me.

The neon lights flickered and danced around me, casting eerie shadows on the faces of strangers who were eager to touch people they didn’t know. Everyone seemed so confident, so sure of themselves, and I wondered what it must feel like to possess such self-assurance. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t who I was.

Which of these men would be the lucky man? Everyone here was either too big or too small, too rough or too smooth and I didn’t even have a taste in men. The only man I’d liked was Knight Easton and he was the most beautiful man I’d ever seen.

I would have happily given him my V card, but he’d made it more than clear that he preferred Mackenzie to me.

“Here you go,” Yas handed me a glass and I drank it without thinking, after which I burst into a fit of coughs as the liquid burnt its way down my throat.

“What the hell is this?” I asked, coughing.

“Whiskey,” Yas said, throwing her head back and downing her glass in one go. She didn’t even wince. “It’s best to drink it all at once.”

I highly doubted that but I didn’t say it out loud. And I was pretty sure I would not be drinking it again. In fact, I was ready to go home now. “Listen, Yas, I know I said–’

“I just saw a fine man,” Yas interrupted. “I’m going to go dance with him. Be right back.”

And then I was alone. Sighing, I hopped onto one of the stools behind the bar and brought out my phone, going online to read the comments for my last book. There was more than yesterday, and one person even had the nerve to call me bland. I swear, people were mean.

“If you were just going to frown, why did you bother coming at all?”

I swung my head to the side to see what I could describe as a god on earth because he was the most dashing human being I’d ever laid eyes on.

Then his words registered and I scowled at him. “Excuse me, didn’t your mother teach you to mind your business?”

Unfazed, the man chuckled and I paused, the sound traveling to my ears and reverberating through my entire body. He was all male, rough with sharp edges.

Dark, almost black hair on his head like a lion’s mane, under which perfectly carved eyebrows of the same color rested. Long, sleek lashes that I was instantly jealous of because years of mascara had never given me that kind of glow, and blue eyes the color of the ocean.

His cheekbones popped out highly. His nose was straight and long and obviously proud because it seemed to be looking down on me, and under them were full plumb pink lips. I’d never seen a sharper jawline in my entire life.

He looked like he jumped straight out of a romance novel.

“Done checking me out? A picture will last longer.”

I sighed. Of course he was arrogant. No one had that kind of good looks and thought modesty was the way to go.

“Is there something you need?” I asked impatiently.

He signaled to the bartender for a shot of vodka before looking back to me. “I haven’t seen you here before. Are you new?”

I narrowed my eyes. “Do you keep tabs on everyone who walks through the door? What are you, the security or a serial killer?”

His bottom lip curled inward. “No. Just you.” His drink appeared at that moment and he downed it in one go, signaling to the bartender for another, who in turn slid two shots towards us.

He slid one glass towards me, gesturing for me to drink. I thought about it for a second, then sighed. Screw it. I’d come here to have one night of fun and I wasn’t going to let common sense stop me. Grabbing the small glass, I tipped my head back and poured it into my mouth.

He gave me a slice of lime and I bit into it, the sourness of the lime mixed with the harshness of the liquor created a pungent taste that surprisingly went well together, though it burned my throat.

“And if I wanted to kill you, the first thing I’d do would be to poison the shot of vodka you just drank. Make you weak enough to move you somewhere quiet where I could finish you off without anyone interfering.”

The words washed over me like a bucket of cold water. I stared at him in horror, my gaze darting between him to the empty glass, half-expecting to start losing consciousness. Was he really a psychopath? Oh, my God. I was going to die.

Then he dropped his head forward and laughed softly. “That was a joke. You should see your face. ”

I slapped him on the chest, my heart racing erratically. “That was not funny.”

He chuckled. “It actually was.”

I sighed. “Well, if you must know, I’m here doing research.”

The look he gave me told me that I was probably crazy. Research in a club? Instead, he asked, “What’s your name?”

“Ma–” I stopped. Did I really want to tell a stranger my name? What if he really was a madman and he tracked me down after tonight? Why was I even here talking to him, especially after he’d made such a nasty comment? And where the hell was Yas because I was ready to get the heck out of there.

“Ma?” he repeated, catching onto the first syllable. “Okay. You don’t want to say. I understand. But at least tell me what your topic of research is. You never know. I could help.”

A thought entered my head. What if he could be the lucky guy? I mean, he wasn’t bad-looking at all and there was something about the way he looked that told me he probably had some experience with the ladies. God forbid he was a virgin like me. No, I shook my head. He couldn’t be. Not with a face like that. Women would be lining up just for a kiss.

“Fine,” I conceded. “I’m here trying to have sex.”

He stared at me like I’d just told him Mother Teresa was my pen pal. “What?”

“I mean, I’m trying to lose my virginity. For research purposes only.”

I could tell that was the last thing he expected to hear. “What kind of researcher are you?”

Now I just felt stupid. “You know what? Forget it. It’s stupid.”

“No, no.” His hand shot out to cover my small ones. “It’s not stupid. Just unusual. It’s not every day a woman walks in here because she wants to lose her virginity. Usually, they’re just looking to have fun.”

The place where his hand touched mine was burning with a kind of fire that spread heat through my body. “Then there’s really no difference between me and them. I’m also looking to have fun. For research purposes only, that is.”

He chuckled under his breath, before retracting his hand. I released a breath at the relief.

“So how’s that working out for you?”

I shook my head in defeat. “Terribly. Like you said, this isn’t my scene and my best friend is off somewhere grinding random men. I have no idea where to start.” Then I looked at him as if I’d just had an epiphany. “Unless…”

The look he gave me was one of confusion. “Unless what?”

My palms felt sweaty. This was the boldest thing I’d ever done, ask a man for sex. My mother would be ashamed of me. But in hindsight, she had been ashamed of me since the moment I was born so it wasn’t really much to go by.

“Unless you’re currently free to take my virginity.”