Teasing the Billionaire

Rosa

"Yes! Just like that," I exclaim, feeling a surge of pleasure as the mystery man between my thighs skillfully pleasures me. "Oh my God!" I cry out, the sensation building to a crescendo, time blurring as we lose ourselves in the moment.

Just as I'm about to reach the peak, a sudden loud noise shatters the euphoria. I groan in frustration. "Is that your phone, honey? Please turn it off so we can continue," I beg, desperate to hold onto the dream.

"That's not me, love," he replies in a deep voice that sends shivers down my spine.

"Then what is it?" I whine.

"That's your alarm," he explains, his deep voice trailing off. "Time to wake up, my dear." His voice fades as the dream slips away.

My eyes flutter open, blinking against the brilliant sunlight streaming through the drapes. As I adjust to the light, the familiar disappointment settles in. "Ugh! Every time. I never get to finish," I mutter, running a hand through my hair.

This has become a recurring theme since I joined SAR, a budding tech company owned by three ambitious men. Lately, the man in my dreams bears a striking resemblance to the CEO, Samson Cross. Standing at 6'5" with piercing blue eyes, he frequently appears in my dreams. As enticing as he is, I yearn for satisfaction beyond my dreams.

Perhaps it's due to my celibacy since giving birth to my son, Cole. I've avoided relationships, engrossed in work at the cleaning agency and as a stripper at a private club. Amidst the chaos, there's been no time or desire for romance. The one person I crave remains out of reach. I only meet him in my dreams.

I stretch my limbs, the lingering tension from the dream still coursing through me. After a quick rinse in the bathroom, I pad down the hall to Cole's room, the small apartment quiet except for the soft hum of the refrigerator.

Gently pushing the door open, I find Cole sleeping peacefully, his dark curls spilling over his forehead. The vibrant red and blue Captain America curtains cast a soft, colorful glow in the room, shielding him from the morning light. Standing in that spot, my heart is filled with affection and satisfaction. He is turning three this year, and I am still surprised at how quickly time has passed since I first cuddled him. He is already inquiring about his biological father. He's incredibly curious and eager to learn, which is understandable given his age. He probably noticed other dads dropping their children at school, but I've only told him that his father isn't with us right now. I guess that was a satisfactory explanation for him. I've worked hard and long to be where I am after being abandoned by his father, making sure he knows that he is always going to be loved.

I step further into the room and turn off the blue LED lamp on his desk. His dark curls cover his face, so I gently push them away, my fingers brushing his soft skin. "Time to wake up, honey. "Time to get ready for school," I whisper, kissing his cheek.

"Mama, can I sleep a bit longer?" he mumbles, still half-asleep.

"No, CJ. You have to get up now if you want to catch the school bus," I say, ruffling his curls as he reluctantly gets out of bed. "But for being so obedient, you get extra bacon this morning," I add with a smile.

"Really, Mama?"

"Yes, love, now hurry up and get ready."

As I leave, I hear water running in the sink. I grab bacon, eggs, and spring onions from the refrigerator. The coffee machine begins to gurgle as I turn on the kettle for Cole's hot chocolate. The morning is hectic with French toast for breakfast and spicy noodles for lunch, yet the routine brings me comfort. While the bread is soaking, I mix the eggs with a bit of milk, some salt, and a dash of pepper. I heat water on the stove for the noodles, and the smell of frying bacon fills the kitchen, blending with the coffee's aroma."Yes, Mama, I packed everything last night," he replies.

"Come sit down, hon; your meal is almost done."

I remove the bread and bacon from the pan and place them on a plate. Placing the plate at Cole's seat, I head to the cupboard to fetch his blue cup. I tear open a packet of Cadbury's hot chocolate mix, empty it into a mug, and mix it with hot water from the kettle. Once I add cold water to lower its temperature, I set the cup in front of him.

"Thanks for breakfast, Mama."

"Always, my love. Hasten up so that you can meet the school bus."

I return to the stove, remove the noodles, and put them into his lunch pack, adding an apple and some chewy fruit snacks. I close it up and hand it to Cole. He finishes his meal just in time as the school bus pulls into our apartment complex.

"Alright, dear," I say as we head out the front door. "Remember to listen to your teachers and make good friends today. I love you, Bean."

"Bye, Mama. Love you," he replies, running towards the school bus, already waving at his friends.

I watch him leave, filled with pride and gratitude. His cheerful smile brightens every room, and I whisper a silent prayer of thanks for the joy my little boy brings to my life.

Closing the front door, I quickly head back into the kitchen. I nibble on the remaining French toast, my thoughts drifting to Pamela. She looked a little better last week, and her tests showed she was responding to the treatment. It's a small comfort amid the chaos.

After tidying up the space, I go to the bedroom to prepare myself for work. As I wash up, I silently hope I don't encounter Sam today. But deep down, I know the universe has other plans for us.

Rosa

I arrive at the sleek, glass-fronted building where SAR is located and head inside. The lobby buzzes with early morning activity. I make my way to the locker room, where I change into my cleaning wear-a simple shirt emblazoned with a mop logo and loose trousers. Heading to the elevator, I notice Carlos, a fellow cleaner, waiting. His wide shoulders and medium height are familiar, and his red baseball cap sits jauntily atop his head.

"Hey, Carlos," I greet him with a smile.

"Hi, Rosa," he replies, his warm brown eyes crinkling at the corners.

"How was your weekend?"

"The usual-spent time with the kids, had some quality moments with my wife, and went to a family gathering."

"Your family gathers every week?"

"Yeah, we're pretty close-knit. It's nice to stay updated on everyone's lives," he says, his smile broadening.

"That's so wonderful. I wish I had something like that." I reply wistfully.

"Nosy relatives? He inquires, eyebrows lifted.

"No," I reply, chuckling. "Family members who care for me, who will gather for dinner, chat, laugh, and catch up on my life."

"Yeah, right, trust me, not so much."

The elevator arrives, cutting our conversation short. Carlos hauls our cleaning supplies into the elevator, and I follow. "Thanks for taking my stuff too," I say.

"You know you don't need to thank me for that," he replies with a chuckle.

We work for the same cleaning agency but on different floors. The ride up is peaceful, the silence only broken by the hum of the elevator. The bell dings, announcing our arrival at the tenth floor.

"See you tomorrow, dear," Carlos says as he steps out.

"Alright, take care," I reply, watching him go before the doors close again.

Alone with my thoughts, I ponder the dream I had, a familiar mix of anticipation and dread filling me. Part of me hopes not to encounter Mr. Cross today, though deep down, I secretly desire even a fleeting glimpse of him. Reaching the top floor, I exit the elevator with my supplies, noticing that the receptionist, Anna, is already at her desk.

"Good morning, Anna," I greet her.

"Hey, Rosa. No one's in yet except for Henry, so you can go in," she replies with a smile.

"Thanks."

I have the pleasure of knowing several remarkable individuals who consistently arrive at the workplace early, and I find great delight in encountering them there! Henry serves as Mr. Cross's secretary, yet on particularly hectic days, he occasionally arrives early. It's quite likely that today is one of those days.

I step through the wooden office doors, the only rooms on this floor apart from the secretary's workspaces. Mr. Cross's office is contemporary and sophisticated, featuring glossy wooden furniture and expansive windows that provide a sweeping city view. I begin tidying up by cleaning surfaces and sorting papers and documents. The office is relatively clean, a testament to Mr. Cross's organizational skills, though it lacks the sterile precision of the other executives' offices.

As I gather my cleaning supplies and reach for the doorknob, it suddenly swings open from the outside. I quickly move to the left, narrowly avoiding being struck.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Rosa. I didn't realize you were still in here," Henry says, looking genuinely apologetic.

"No worries, I didn't get hit. Anna told me you were in, but when I passed your desk, you weren't around," I reply.

"Yeah, I left to set something up in the conference room. We have an executive meeting today."

"Okay, well, I'm off to the other rooms. Better hurry before the bosses get here."

"Alright, see you tomorrow."

I'm about to respond when he receives a call.

" Hello, this is Henry Allerton; yes, the PA of Samson Cross."

He walks away, talking to the person on the phone.

I quickly make my way to the offices of the other CEOs to get them cleaned up. I begin with Mr. Aiden's spotless office, since he is very particular about neatness. On the other hand, Mr. Rafael's office looks like a disaster after a party, with papers strewn about, coffee spills, and dirt covering every surface. I concentrate on working quickly in this disorganized space. Once I gather my cleaning supplies, I return downstairs to the first floor.

The elevator doors slowly slide open, and I step out. I walk down the corridor to our storage room to organize and put away my cleaning supplies. After changing out of my uniform into the comfortable jeans and T-shirt I wore when I arrived, I quickly but efficiently made my way through the rest of the buildings on my schedule for the morning. All of which are residential properties where I work throughout the day. As I turn the corner, my eyes lock onto a man standing at a towering six feet tall, with curly blond locks and intense blue eyes. His sleek, sculpted visage is framed perfectly by a rich blue Italian suit that accentuates his strong physique. He exudes a captivating charm, drawing the attention of every woman-and even a few men-in the vicinity as he strides through the entrance hall with unwavering confidence.

Mr. Cross heads to the elevator designated for the CEOs only; it goes directly to their floor. Even though he's walking to the elevators behind me, I can't help but imagine that he's coming for me. I keep staring, my heart pounding, and I find myself mumbling nonsensical words. He briefly glances at me as he walks by, and I feel a little swoony because I just locked eyes with Mr. Cross.

I know it was only for a couple of seconds, but it still happened. I'll sound like a crazy person explaining this to my girls. That reminds me, we have our weekly Monday luncheon around 2 p.m. I better hurry up so I won't be late.

I start my walk out of the building to finish my remaining work for the morning, a small smile playing on my lips. This encounter makes today feel like it's going to be a perfect day. It felt good to think about it, but I know the universe always has its own plans. For now, I'll hold onto this small moment of joy and see where the day takes me.

SAM

I make my way to the top-floor office in the building that I own with my two closest friends. It's difficult to imagine that we transformed from slim IT college seniors to one of the most in-demand cybersecurity teams in New York. While riding the elevator, I find my mind wandering to Stella. This morning at breakfast, she appeared a bit different, and I just can't shake this sense that something is not right. Our closeness has been missing recently, a result of her busy modeling schedule and my constant search for upscale clients.

The elevator doors slide open, and I step into the sleek reception area on our floor.

"Good morning, sir," Anna greets me with a warm smile.

"Hey, Anna. How was your weekend?" I ask, trying to push thoughts of Stella aside.

"It was good, sir. How about yours?"

"Not bad. Are the others here?"

"Not yet, but they're on their way. The conference room is already set up for the meetings."

"Great, thanks."

I head to the conference room, knowing everything needs to be perfect for our huge client meeting. As I enter, I see Henry still setting up the projector.

"Good morning, sir," he says without looking up.

"Morning, Henry. How's it going? Have you talked to Aiden or Rafael?"

"Aiden's on his way up, but Rafael was just waking up from an alcohol-induced sleep. He partied hard last night."

"Damn! This deal is huge, and he couldn't even show up early. Make sure you keep pestering him until he gets here."

"Of course, sir. I'm way ahead of you. I've already sent someone to fetch him."

"Thanks, Henry. I appreciate it."

Lately, it appears that Rafael is struggling to keep his head upright, which makes me curious about his current situation. While we are making more money than expected, we still have a lot of progress to make.

Our success depends on all three of us being fully committed.

I sit at the head of the large gray conference table, perusing the papers on the desk. The door opens, and Aiden steps in.

"Yo, what's up, Sam?"

"Hey, man. I guess you and Rafael partied hard this weekend. He's still hungover."

"Yeah, we did our usual partying, but something seemed to be bothering him. He hit the alcohol hard."

"I just hope he's alright. We need him lucid for the meeting."

Henry calls the heads of the respective departments to the meeting. Eventually, everyone's here, just waiting on Rafael and our client.

While everyone makes small talk, I scroll through my phone, thinking of ways to liven up my relationship with Stella. I see a video of a guy giving his girlfriend lots of roses and chocolate, and it gives me an idea. We haven't been communicating well, but I remember Stella loves anything with chocolate.

A loud bang of the door against the wall makes everyone turns their heads. Rafael stumbles in, looking pale and bloodshot, like he didn't want to get out of bed this morning.

"I'm glad you could finally join us," I say, trying to keep my frustration in check.

Rafael's bloodshot eyes lock on mine, but he remains silent and takes his seat by my left, while Aiden occupies the right.

"Hey man, what's up with you? You really need to talk to us. Your behavior lately isn't cool," Aiden complains.

"Yeah, I know I've been acting up, but I'll tell you all the reasons soon. Just give me time."

"Okay, bro, but no more screw-ups," I reply.

"I got you."

Less than five minutes later, the owner of one of the biggest investment companies in the world enters the room. We stand to shake hands with Mr. Arturo, led by Henry and two others. We settle down, and the meeting begins.

Two hours later, we've signed our biggest client. Mr. Arturo is impressed with our achievements and agrees to a million-dollar contract. We shake hands, agreeing to meet again soon.

The guys and I decide to celebrate with an early dinner. We tell the rest of the staff to close early. Rafael recommends the place, claiming they serve the best Bloody Mary he's ever had.

ROSA

After a hectic morning, I'm relieved to have finished my work just in time for a short break. It's Monday, which means mimosas with my girls, Marie and Lola. We always meet at our usual table by the window, a little at the back, offering a great view of the restaurant and the privacy to discuss our matters.

I arrive a little later than my girls and see them at our spot, laughing and whispering. I'm so grateful for their friendship; they've helped me through my hardest times. When I first started my job dancing on a pole, they were there to support me. It pays well, especially since I work in a high-class private club. I was a dance major in university but didn't finish, and I still had my mom's body after giving birth to Cole. Marie and Lola helped shape my body and taught me the moves that got patrons paying big. Since then, it's been the three of us.

"Mejores amigas," I call out when I'm a few feet away from them.

They both look up and stand to hug me.

"It took you long enough," Lola says, teasingly.

"I had to rest before heading out. I had a lot to do today. So, what were you laughing about?"

"Oh, you saw that?" Marie asks, giggling.

"Uh, yeah. Me and everyone in here."

"Well, if you want to know, just look out the window."

I follow her gaze and see a middle-aged Asian man having a drink. The weather is a little windy, and just as I'm about to turn away, the wind picks up, blowing at the man. He uses his hand to hold down his hair, but not before I see it lift off almost halfway from his bald head.

"¿Qué rayos?" I say, laughing so hard that it almost brings tears. It happens a couple more times before I turn away.

"Oh my God, you girls are evil for watching him like that."

"Yeah, we know," they reply in unison, laughing.

We call over the waiter and order our drinks: a Bellini Mimosa, a Blushing Mimosa, and a Pink Lady Mimosa.

"So, girls, can you guess who I saw today?"

They both look at me with blank stares.

"I saw the hot and sexy Samson Cross at the office today!"

"Ahhh!" they scream, waving their hands in the air.

"Yes, girl! You have to tell us everything."

The girls know all about my infatuation with Mr. Samson. Although I know nothing can ever happen, they always entertain my ramblings about him and the things I see at the office.

I pop a piece of bread dipped in olive oil into my mouth, chew it quickly, and settle in to tell them everything.