Chapter 17

17

L IZ

I catch up with Chloe, who ends up in front of the house. I feel bad about leaving like this. But I would also feel bad if I didn't help Chloe.

"What now…?" I murmur as she pulls out her phone and swipes the screen to open an app and get a car for us.

"Stupid, stupid luck," she says, not paying attention, and I don't know whether she's talking about getting a car or something else.

"Who is that man, Chloe?"

"I told you I have no idea."

"Why is he here?"

She stops scrolling and gives me a stern look.

"Would I be here if I knew?"

"No, seriously…" I say,

"Seriously. I don't know."

Her eyes are back to the screen, and so are her fingers.

"Some billionaire," she says in derision. "What else would you like to know? Have you looked at them?"

I've looked at them, but I don't know how to interpret her words.

She's frustrated. I can see that. But why would she be so annoyed that her stalker is a billionaire?

What am I talking about?

David Moore is a billionaire as well.

Life is hard even without the billionaires.

"You don't want to talk to him…" I say mainly to myself.

"You think?"

"Why?"

There's a video of a cat on the internet dubbed with a human voice that says ‘why?' the way I said it.

Open mouth. Sounding a little brattish.

Usually, we laugh about it, but she's prickly like a hedgehog, so there's no way she's in the mood for that.

She gives me a death glare, and I keep my mouth shut.

Her focus goes back to her phone, and I notice the tension in her grip.

"Fuck. It's taking them half an hour, and the driver can't even confirm our ride," she says.

"We can wait."

"Someone in the house will find us here, waiting."

"We'll tell them we're waiting for a car."

"The whole point was to be inconspicuous."

"We are. No one will pay attention to us. Trust me."

I barely finish saying that, and the main door opens, and two men push through.

My heart stops for a moment.

James Sexton and David Moore walk out the door, talking to each other.

James notices us first.

"What's going on?" he asks, looking at me.

Chloe zips her hand down like she's trying to hide her phone.

I can't read anything on David's face when I start talking.

"We can't stay for dinner. We're both tired, so we're calling a cab," I say, looking straight at James.

He searches my eyes, clearly not buying it.

"We went out last night," I say, not blinking and stifling my impulse to move my eyes to David.

A soft smile creases James' lips.

"Did you have fun?"

More relaxed, I flash a grin.

"Yes. We both did."

Blood floods my cheeks, but I act cool like nothing happened.

"I can take them back," David says before James has the chance to comment.

"Are you sure? My driver can take them home."

"No need to. I'm going in that direction anyway."

"Okay, man. We'll talk," James says before shaking hands with David, giving him a hug, and patting him on his back. "I'll see you when you get back."

"Sure."

They break away from each other, and James turns to us.

"You're in good hands," he says to us, and we mumble our goodbyes like two schoolgirls.

The fuck.

James enters the house, and sadness floats through me at the thought that I have to leave.

I wish I could stay a little longer and have dinner with them.

Distracted, I walk with Chloe and David and stop next to his car. I realize late, only when David points to his ride, mostly for Chloe, that I made a gaffe.

I wasn't supposed to know which one was his car.

Chloe doesn't seem to notice.

"This is us," David says.

His ride has four seats but only two doors, and Chloe wants to get in first, for obvious reasons, when David looks at me.

"Who am I dropping off first?"

"Uh…" Chloe mumbles. "That would be me."

"Elizabeth, right?" he says to me, slightly amused.

"Yes. That's right. I'll take the back seat."

I nudge Chloe to the side and slide in, rolling my eyes without anyone seeing me.

Moments later, we're all tucked in, and David steers the car out of James' driveway.

A beautiful sunset is splashed along the horizon, and the trees turn dark as we take the road back.

It's a beautiful view, and I get lost in it for a moment while Chloe and David exchange words that hardly register with me.

For the rest of the trip, they talk, and I look out the window.

When David pulls up in front of her building, Chloe's relief is palpable.

She seems grateful that I'm here with her and thanks David for giving us a ride.

"Get some sleep," I say when she walks out.

She waves at us and vanishes inside her building.

David looks at me in the rearview mirror.

"Would you like to switch to the front seat, Miss Elizabeth?"

The aristocratic way in which he says that makes me blush to my hairline.

Our eyes meet in the rearview mirror.

I ponder before shifting in my seat, walking out, and getting back in.

He steers his car away, glancing to his left.

"What is going on?" he asks.

I stay quiet, waiting for his gaze to come back to me.

He reads my eyes for a moment.

"Are you going to tell me?" he asks.

"We had to leave."

" We ?"

"Chloe had to leave."

He moves his eyes back to the road.

"Why?"

"Personal reasons."

"And you?"

"I wanted to stay, but I also wanted to help her. So, here I am."

We stay quiet for a moment.

"I didn't know you'd be there," I murmur, looking out the window.

"I had no clue I'd be there either. My assistant told me this morning."

I whip my gaze to him like a jealous wife.

"Assistant?"

He stretches a knowing smile. It's fascinating how easily he got me. I fell right into his trap.

"Yes," he says slowly, gauging my reaction before moving his eyes away.

"She woke me this morning with the news."

Woke him as in…? Did she give him a foot massage or a body scrub or something?

Brought him a breakfast tray?

How did she wake him?

I'm usually not territorial or jealous of these sorts of things. Frankly, I've never gotten to that point with anyone. Things didn't require me to be jealous.

My previous hookups wore loose and easy to unravel, and although nothing connects me to this man yet––other than the sex we had last night––I feel like questioning him.

I study him in silence.

"Is something wrong?" he asks.

"No. I just didn't know you had an assistant."

"Wasn't it that hard to guess, was it?"

A smile trickles through his voice.

"Not an assistant that wakes you in the morning. That didn't cross my mind. Were you decent?"

He gives me a grin like he's watching a little kitten showing her sharp claws for the first time.

"As decent as I could be considering that I was sleeping."

I watch him in disapproving silence.

Subtle amusement rolls over his face.

"What kind of job is this?" I ask.

He pulls the car to a halt before steering it right.

"She's my personal assistant. It's a part-time job. Flexible, I should say."

"How did she get the job?" I ask, unable to conceal my irritation.

"Are you interested in a similar position?'"

I can't tell whether he's serious or mostly fucking with me. I shrug.

"I don't know. It sounds like a great job."

"Working for me, you mean," he teases.

"No… I mean. It can't be bad."

"It's not bad at all. Aren't you a student, though?"

"Yes, I am. What about her?"

"She'll go to school next year."

"How old is she?" I ask, trepidations falling through my frame.

"She'll be nineteen soon."

"Uh… What??"

He looks at me and nods before focusing on the road. I must look like I just swallowed a bee hive, and my lips got swollen.

"You thought she was older?'

"Is that legal?"

Shaking his head slowly, he flashes a smile.

"Legal for waking me in the morning? Working for me? Having a special relationship with me?"

"How special is her relationship with you?"

He shrugs a shoulder.

"You'll find out if you ever work for me," he tosses casually, and again, I wonder whether he's serious or not.

"I have a job right now."

I tell him about my part–time retail job.

"Then you're all set."

"Is her job paying well?" I ask after pondering for a second.

"Mm-hmm. I'm a generous boss…" he says in a flirting voice that sends tingles down my spine.

A few moments pass, and the car stops at the top of a hill in a lookout area.

The evening has darkened the valley, so the lights start to come on.

He turns the engine off.

"I thought you might want to see this. I noticed your gaze when we left James' place. The view is perfect at his house, but so is this," he says thoughtfully.

I glance at him, grappling with surprise.

People never notice these things.

Chloe has had a hard time spotting the nuances this evening.

I couldn't agree more about the view.

We take it in for a few long, silent moments.

"Are you actually living in that hotel?" I ask at some point.

"For now, yes. I'm here for work. The hotel room comes with the job, and it's great, so there's no point in saying no to it."

"So you're really here temporarily?"

"We're all here temporarily," he responds softly.

"I mean…"

"I know what you mean. I lived in different places and moved here for James. I like this place a lot and wouldn't say no to living here permanently, but there's no point in planning for that just yet. I might be gone in a few months. I also travel a lot. Who knows what the future brings?"

"Do you plan to leave?"

"I don't have plans for the near future," he says, jaded.

It's hard not to notice his expression.

He shifts his eyes to me.

"What about you?"

His stare slides down while I ponder an answer.

"I like your dress," he says, and I instinctively tug at my hem to cover my thighs.

He pushes his gaze up.

"What are your plans for the future, Elizabeth?"

His voice is serious, and I feel like I'm interviewing for a job.

‘Where do you see yourself in five years from now?'

That sort of thing.

To that, I'd say… I don't know. Working at an archeological site, maybe? Trying to become a teacher? Running Maggie's shop? Or maybe waitressing at some fancy place downtown?

Writing books for a living doesn't even make my list.

My lack of inspiration is a serious drawback, despite being here with the man who inspired Rain's story and propelled her career into the stratosphere.

"Honestly? I don't know…" I say quietly. "It's hard for me to see that far into the future. I had a dream at some point, but realizing it now seems far-fetched, so I might need to reconsider it."

"What kind of dream?"

I weigh my words.

"I can't tell you. It's too close to my heart, and I don't know you that well."

Flashing a smile, he looks away.

"It's a fair point."

A few more seconds pass.

"You shouldn't just discard that dream of yours. Our dreams have a way of finding us long after we stop thinking about them."

"So I've heard," I say, and his eyes come to me. "I'm not too trustful of that, though."

I take in a long breath.

"Have they come back to you? Your dreams?" I ask, and he thinks about his answer for a second.

"It's hard to say. Some did. Some didn't. I'm not expecting much overall. And things have been great, I have to say," he says in a serious voice. "And then I got to meet you," he adds, his tone lighter.

"Too bad we can't be friends."

"We can be friends."

"You said it, and I said it. No one will believe us."

"You could work for me."

"Someone works for you already."

"There's room for another assistant in my life."

I laugh.

He smiles.

"That sounded bad."

"I was talking about work."

"Sure. Work."

He mulls over something.

"What happened before me?" he asks casually.

"Before you? You mean work?"

I know what he means.

"Boyfriends," he says. "Men."

"Why would you ask me that?"

"Because you're hot," he says curtly, and coming from him, that statement makes my skin warm.

I've never seen myself as someone hot. I didn't want to see myself like that. Now he might try to flatter me and make me open my legs for him again. I wouldn't say no to that. But if I did that, we'd only allow things to get even more complicated than they are.

The little girl inside me would grin from ear to ear, clap her hands, and ask him. ‘Really?' She'd like to hear him say those words again, over and over again.

It's silly and superficial, yet it makes me feel so good.

"Well, hot women have a hard time getting a boyfriend all the time," I joke, and he laughs.

"You're funny."

"Hot and funny," I say, and he chuckles some more.

"One day, you'll tell me your story," he says, turning on the engine and backing away.

What is there to know?

My mother raised me. I went to school and tried to be a good student, and money was never enough. My cousin was one of my closest friends. She still is, but her life is different now, so we're not talking or hanging out as much as I'd like.

I have had several failed hookups in the past. I could write a book about them, but no one would buy it, and I wouldn't make a living fictionalizing that crap.

That's about it.

A part of me would like us to stay here a little longer to kiss, maybe hold hands, and stare at the view as if looking into eternity. It's a nice romantic place, and I'm glad he picked it for me.

For us.

How strange it sounds.

Us.

I'd love to be here with him and do nothing while doing everything before pretending this night has never happened.

Maybe his words were a test. I was supposed to say something or make a move on him or even ask him to have sex again.

Thinking about sex with him makes me clench my thighs, and I feel the warmth and wetness between my legs and realize how much I want it.

But we can't make this a regular thing.

We travel to my place in silence, and when he stops his car in front of my house, I say my goodbye and regretfully open the door to leave.

"I'll walk you in," he says like an afterthought, which is unexpected.

I didn't think he'd do it.

I'm here. He needs to be someplace else. We're nothing to each other.

"Sure."

I don't know what that means, but I'm a trembling mess while waiting for him to round his car.

We walk next to each other, and I'm already riffling through the contents of my bag, looking for my key as we approach the door.

The neighborhood is dark and silent, and the first stars adorn the sky.

I walk in first and leave my purse and the key on the wall table beside the entrance while he closes the door.

"Would you like something to drink?" I ask.

The growing silence makes me turn to him.

With his shoulder pressed into the wall, his hand tucked into his pocket, and the other holding his car key and his phone, he has a glint in his eyes.

I erase the gap between us, my eyes locked with his.

"Is there anything else I could get you?" I ask, splaying my fingers over his chest and tipping my face up.

He pulls his hand out of his pocket and snakes his arm around my waist.

His phone and car key clink against the wall table before his other arm comes to me.

He moves his hand up and inside my jacket sleeves.

He slowly removes my jacket, but not all the way when his lips connect with mine.

My arms fall to the side while he lets the jacket glide before removing it and dropping it to the floor.

We kiss, my arms going back to his neck, my heart beating fast in my chest.

Despite all the conversations we had and the deals we made, our minds are still stuck on having sex.

One more time.

It won't hurt anyone if we do it one more time.

He runs his hand up my skirt and smoothly reaches the strap of my panties. He pushes it down while sliding his tongue between my lips and kissing me harder.

He's been thinking about sex for a while.

At least I wasn't alone in my quest for pleasure.

His fingers trail the waistband of my panties, pushing it down in the process, and when he touches me between my legs, I'm almost done.

He only tears away from me to push my panties to my ankles. His shoulders hit the wall while he lifts my thigh and hitches it high on his hip.

My sensitive clit is pressed against his fly when we connect our lips, our mouths hungrier than ever.

Without much waiting, he runs his zipper down, reaches inside his pants, and pulls out his erection.

I push up onto my toes while he maneuvers his way inside me. Once he fills me up, my center hugs him tightly, tingles swirl inside my core, and we feast on each other's mouths again.

He moves his hips, plunging his tongue into my mouth, and I moan and grind on him like the world is about to end.

Eventually, he hooks his arm around my other thigh and lifts me up. Slightly pivoting, he slides my butt onto the table while sweeping all the things to the side.

Something clatters as it meets the floor.

It's probably his phone.

His hips roll, his chest heaving, and my moans only grow louder.

We ignore everything we said as we enjoy each other like it's a contest.

My hands go down his back and muscular backside before moving up and threading through his hair.

He holds me tight while fucking me harder, and the wall shakes behind me.

I sink my teeth into his lip, and he bites me back with vigor before our lips roll again and our tongues get entangled.

It doesn't take long, and his hand slides down inside my top.

A few buttons fall, ripped from the neckline, before he squeezes my chest hard.

"I love it…" I say through moans and breaths falling quickly from my chest.

Sweat trickles down my neck, and my pulse surges.

He moves fast, and I come, shaking in his arms. His frame hardens as he grunts, pounding me ferociously.

We burn like the fiery pits of hell when we're done with each other. Warm release drips from between my legs while he's still inside me.

His arms drape around me, his lips hot against my temple.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," he says in a raspy voice, slightly nasal, smokey and sexy.

"Maybe I'll see you before the wedding rehearsal. What say you?"

I nod, still panting.

"Yes… We can do that."

We sound like two people making arrangements for something trivial, not exactly secret sex.

"All right," he drawls, emptying me in one smooth move.

He tucks his semi-hard cock inside his pants and looks down for his phone.

It was his phone, indeed. I notice it when he picks it up.

He hands me my panties while I slide off the table.

With my panties crumpled in my hand, I run shaky fingers over my skirt.

"You use contraception?" he asks.

"When I remember," I joke, and he gives me an amused smile. I go on. "You don't seem very worried. Plus, you're asking me after the fact," I say, pulling my panties up.

"It's been a while since I had to worry. That's why I'm asking."

Whatever that means.

He tips his gaze down. Amazingly, his phone screen doesn't have a scratch.

"I'll contact you before," he says, his smile whisked away by whatever he's seeing on his phone.

"You don't have my number."

"I'll get your number."

"Not from Thea, I hope."

"No."

"I can give you my number," I say, grappling with angst.

He swipes his phone screen with his thumb, opens the address book, and creates a new contact. I punch in my number and hand him his phone.

"Don't save it under Liz. Someone might see my name."

Smiling, he types my secret name.

"What is it?" I ask when he slides his phone into his pocket and leans to me to kiss my cheek.

His scent rocks through my senses, making something sweet clench in my chest.

"Redhead," he says, laughing.

Red.

Redhead.

Rain was Red.

I am Redhead.

"Funny," I say, not in a funny voice. "Now I'm part of your paid crew."

Both hands pile up on each other as I stifle an oops.

He doesn't mind my blunder.

"Money makes sex more enjoyable," he says, straightening and looking down his nose at me.

I wag my finger at him.

"Don't look at me like that."

"We should try it," he says.

I'm crimson to my hair.

"I won't be getting paid for sex."

He rolls his lip under his teeth, pushing back a smile.

"Sex that never happened. That's different," he argues.

"Yeah. That's different."

I stare at him, my thoughtful look making him comment again.

Slowly nodding, he speaks.

"You should try it. It's an amazing feeling."

"You're not serious."

"I am serious."

I look at him with my mouth slightly open.

I can't believe I'm considering having sex for money.

I'm not doing that.

Yes, I may have considered posting sexy pictures online for a bit of cash. But that was about creating content, not sleeping with a sexy billionaire everyone in your circle knows.

This can't end well.

I wonder how he knows it's such a great thing. Or feeling… It must be good for him.

He can boss a woman around, set the dates, ask for privacy, and never commit to her.

I can see how great that is for him and also for a woman.

Cash is king. Right?

How can I even consider his proposal?

He erases the space between us, and his arm loops around me. Pressed against his chest, I peer up at him while he looks down at me.

"You don't have to fear and straight out resent the idea. Nothing will change between us. If anything, it will make things kinkier."

"It will be a mess."

"Like I said…" he runs his finger down my face, brushing a strand of hair away.

"I'm paying you for an a la carte menu of sex. We'll keep the secrecy. We'll have fun. No one will know. We won't meet at my hotel. We'll meet somewhere else. I'm not paying you to humiliate you. I'm paying you to turn you on. To make you wet. To make you high on sex. Think about it…" he says softly, gripping my chin and tilting his gaze to my mouth.

My heart is a scaredy cat when he lowers his mouth and leaves a warm kiss on mine.

Without waiting for an answer, he nods goodbye and exits my place, and I stare at the door long after he turns on his car engine, veers away, and goes back to wherever he came from.

End of Book One