Seducing The Billionaire

“Uncle Patrick! Uncle Patrick!”

Eighteen-year-old Gypsy strolled into the large ranch house, looking around, wondering why nobody was responding.

“Uncle Patrick, I'm here.”

She'd just returned from boarding school after graduating high school yesterday, and Uncle Patrick had told her to come over so that they could have a small celebration.

Her mother couldn't give a shit whether she decided to stop schooling forever. She hadn't even bothered to show up at the graduation ceremony.

Gypsy blinked back tears from her eyes, willing herself to not get sad.

“Sweety!” The merry voice of Uncle Patrick greeted her as the man appeared around the stairs and began descending.

She met him at the swell step and fell into his arms in an embrace. He broke the hug, keeping her at arm's length.

Patrick MacArthur wasn't her real uncle. He'd been her father's friend who'd continued to be in her life after her father run away.

But he treated her like his youngest daughter and cared for her, more than her mother could be bothered to care.

He financed her education and took care of all her needs in the boarding school.

“Hmm, don't you think you're a bit early, Sweetie.” He gave her a teasing look.

Smiling sheepishly, she shrugged.

“You know me. I get so excited about these things. Where is Auntie Helena?”

“She had a bit of a family emergency and had to leave, Sweety. I'm afraid you're going to have to deal with only me.”

Gypsy rolled her eyes at how he'd said it like it was bad being around him. The man was cool as hell.

“Have you eaten this morning?” Gypsy shook her head no.

Uncle Patrick nodded with a frown. “Why don't you go and rest for a while? I'll finish something real quick and take you out for breakfast.”

Gypsy nodded enthusiastically, stepping past Patrick to ascend the stairs. The MacArthurs had practically adopted her. She had her own room in the house where she spent most of her nights whenever she was on vacation from boarding school.

Gypsy sighed as she entered her room.

She sniffed her armpits. She didn't smell bad, but she knew she needed to shower. She was wearing a T-shirt and denim jeans. She peeled both of them and was soon standing in only her bra and panties.

The door to the room suddenly opened. “Gypsy Sweetie, do you...” Uncle Patrick's voice trailed off as his eyes scanned her from head to toe.

“Uncle!” Gypsy exclaimed, scrambling to grab her T-shirt from the bed to cover her chest. “Did you want something?”

Uncle Patrick didn't answer. Instead, he closed the door and stepped into the room, a strange gleam in his eyes as he continues to scan her body.

Her eyes widened when he got to where she stood and reached for her T-shirt, trying to pull it away from her chest.

“Uncle...”

Words stuck in her throat, her eyes watching Uncle Patrick in disbelief as she strove to hold on to her shirt. He suddenly jerked the material from her hold.

“Uncle Patrick, what are you doing?” She questioned, finally finding her voice.

“You've grown so much, Gypsy. Such a fine young thing you've become.”

She'd never heard his voice sound so husky, so raspy. She began to back away from him as he advanced.

“Don't worry sweetheart.” He flashed her a smile she once would've considered affectionate but now made the hairs on the back of her head stand. “I'll make you feel so good.”

Uncle Patrick lurched for her. One moment she was in his arms screaming and the next, she was on the bed with him on top of her. She continued to struggle as her panties were ripped.

She was on the edge of giving up, but just when she felt him about to breach her innocence, a strength she didn't know she had suddenly surged through her.

Pushing him back, she jammed her knee against his groin. He screamed in pain and rolled over to the ground, grabbing his balls in pain.

Gypsy took that opportunity to get up. “You bastard!” She spit on him and quickly grabbed her clothes, running out of the house, still shocked that Uncle Patrick had tried to take advantage of her.

****

Wham!

The thunderous slap echoed through the room. Gypsy clutched her stinging cheek, staring eyes wide at the woman who'd just slapped her. The woman who was supposed to be her mother.

“You whore. How dare you? How dare you try to act all innocent. You ungrateful wretch!”

Her mother's eyes flashed hot with fury and hate. The woman had always blamed her for the fact that her father left them and Gypsy was used to the hate in her eyes. But today, it seemed to have gone ten notches higher.

A tear slipped down her face. “Mum, he tried to...

“Shut the fuck up!”

A slap was delivered to her other cheek. Gypsy stumbled in shock and pain.

“After everything he has done for you? After everything he has done for us, how can you repay him this way? How can you try to do this to ME?”

All of a sudden, her mother grabbed her by the hair, causing Gypsy to scream in pain.

“Now listen very carefully to me, you slut. None of what you just said is going outside these four walls. And the next time Patrick tries to fuck you, you're going to lie down like an obedient little girl and take it like the whore you are? After everything he has done for us, that's the least way you can repay him. Do you understand?”

Gypsy stared at her mother in shock. Surely her mother didn't mean what she was saying, right?

Her hold on Gypsy's hair intensified when Gypsy didn't answer. “Do you hear me?”

“Yes.” Gypsy whispered as more tears streamed down her face.

“Good.” Her mother scanned her with disgust for the last time before storming off.

Gypsy sunk to the floor in tears. Instead of having Patrick arrested, her mother wanted her to become Patrick's lover just for money. No, she would not allow it. Never.

Gypsy intentionally lay in bed and pretended to be asleep. When midnight finally came, she got up and dressed, packed her things, and left the village.

*****

Gypsy run away to the city with the little saving she had. She knew starting over at her age wasn't easy, but she didn't expect it to be so difficult either.

She slept under bridges and in alleyways near trash cans. In the morning she would pay to take a bath in a public bathroom and eat once a day.

A week later, all she had was a few dollars. Desperation turned to misery. As she was walking around the city, she passed by a pib.

She'd only had alcohol once and didn't like it, but tonight she felt like getting drunk. She'd heard that alcohol can help you to forget your problems.

Because she didn't have any ID, she sneaked past the bouncer into the pub. She quickly went to the counter and ordered two beers.

Soon she had finished drinking them both. The bartender gave her a strange look but she didn't care. By now she felt tipsy. It was as if she had no problems in the world.

Giddy, Gypsy run to the dancefloor and began dancing wildly among the other dancers. She felt so happy and lost in the alcohol. Suddenly, someone grabbed her ass.

“Stop, you pervert!” She shouted at the man and tried to move away and yet still the man didn't stop.

Gypsy was about to slap him when another man suddenly pulled him away and punched him.

Her savior turned to her. “Are you okay, miss?”

“Wow, you're so handsome, my hero.”

The man looked like he came straight out of a fashion magazine. Indeed, he was handsome. Sharp jaw and the most beautiful green eyes she'd ever seen.

She threw herself at him and hugged him tightly.

“What are you doing girl?” Her savior said pushing her away.

“No.” Gypsy protested and hugged him again. She didn't even know what she was doing.

“You're drunk.” Her savior sighed. “Come here.”

Her savior swept her off her feet, surprising her. He began to walk. Gypsy knew she should be afraid, but for some reason, she felt safe in his arms.

He took her into the elevator, and soon they were going up. He entered with her into some place that looked like a suite. Everything was so beautiful.

He placed her gently on the bed and looked at her face. His angelic looked annoyed. “You're drunk. Stay here until you're sober enough and leave.”

Just as he was about to go, Gypsy held his hand and shook her head. “No, don't leave me alone. Stay with me.”

“Girl let go of me.” He growled trying to snatch his hand away. “What do you want from me?”

Before Gypsy knew what she was doing, she pulled him on top of her and kissed him.

She couldn't remember exactly how things happened but soon her savior had undressed her and was also naked. He pleasured her and made her cum so many times.

The next day, she woke up alone in bed. The alcohol had gone away, and Gypsy began to regret what she had done. What is wrong with me, she thought. He probably thinks I'm a whore.

She couldn't remember his face very well. All she remembered was that he had a tattoo of a scorpion on his chest. She sighed.

She sat on the bed for several hours but he never came back. Finally, Gypsy dressed and left the pub, ashamed that she'd had sex with a stranger and she couldn't even remember him properly.

She came back to the pub every day for two whole weeks, hoping she would find Mr. Stranger but she never saw him again.

A month later, Gypsy began to feel dizzy and fainted one day. She woke up in a hospital with a doctor looking at her.

“What is your name?” The doctor asked.

“Gypsy.” She answered. “What is wrong with me, doctor?”

“Congratulations, Gypsy. You're pregnant.”