Billionaire's Game Read online

  He reached for popcorn too and his hand brushed mine. I pretended to not notice how our brief touch radiated heat up my entire arm.

  He sat back suddenly, reached for the remote and turned on the Brain Pain. I watched half-heartedly as one commercial after another played.

  “You didn’t answer my question.”

  “What question was that?”

  “What are you into if not sports or movies?”

  “Intelligent women with beautiful legs.”

  I blushed and shifted a little. I nervously pushed a few hairs out of my face. “You’re trying to distract me.”

  He gave me a long look and reached out to touch my cheek. He stroked it gently and I sighed as I leaned forward, hoping to get closer. “Is it working?”

  “Is what working?” I couldn’t take my eyes off him. I could barely breathe.

  “That’s the only answer I need—”

  He moved in then. I was sure to kiss me when suddenly the TV volume shot up to a deafening roar.

  We sprung apart, me covering my ears and him cursing as he reached for the remote control which had somehow become wedged between us. My knee had pressed against the remote, sending the volume to deafening decibels.

  Ooops. But honestly, if not for that issue I probably would have my mouth on him right now.

  “So what type of men do you like, Lesli?” he said as he turned the television’s volume down.

  That question totally caught me off guard. I looked at him strangely. “What type of question is that?”

  “I’m just curious. If you won’t go out with me, then tell me who you’d normally go out with.”

  So we were back to that topic. I wanted to roll my eyes, but thought better of it.

  “I don’t really have a type and it’s not that it matters anyway.”

  “It matters to me.” We were now not even pretending to be interested in watching Brain Pain reruns.

  “Well, if you’re not my type there’s really no reason to discuss it. It’s not like you can become my type overnight.” I hoped my logic wasn’t as screwy as it sounded.

  “Come on. Humor me.”

  I didn’t know what to make of this conversation and I wasn’t sure where it was going. “I guess I want what most other women want. Someone nice with a sense of humor. Reliable. Punctual...”

  “Punctual. That’s hilarious.”

  “You’re right. That was stupid, but you put me on the spot, so that’s what you get for being intrusive.”

  “Intrusive, me? Never.”

  I smiled. “How about you? What’s your type?”

  “Smart, authentic, compassionate. You know, pretty much everything you are.”

  “Stop being so nice. You’re going to make me blush.” I quickly tried to change the subject. I needed a safe topic. A topic that was the complete opposite of sexy. And suddenly I had it.

  “Tell me more about your parents.”

  I expected him to stubbornly resist my change of subject but, fortunately, he smiled and went with it. “Well, my mom is a hippie and, as you know, my dad is a lawyer.”

  “How did that happen? How did they meet?”

  “I’m not sure how they met. And Mom wasn’t always a hippie. In fact, she was quite the socialite before she found her life calling and did a complete one-eighty.”

  “Life calling?”

  “She lost her sister to leukemia and, after she died, Mom threw herself into adding color to her life... at least that’s what she called it.”

  “What did she do?”

  “She dropped the socialite lifestyle, started seeing a life coach. The life coach took her to a foreign country where Mom decided to renounce all worldly goods. She gave away most of her fortune and moved into a commune in Alabama or Mississippi. I can’t remember which one.”

  “That’s, ummm, interesting...” I didn’t know what else to say.

  He laughed. “I know it’s weird. You can say so.” He was turned toward me and there was a distinct twinkle in his eyes. He was clearly amused by my reaction.

  “I’m not implying her actions are weird. Everyone has to choose how to live their life, right?”

  “Right.”

  “And she chose to live it with more meaning. I respect that. Change doesn’t come easy for me, yet she embraced change and let me guess, she’s a lot happier now.”

  He nodded. “She is, but being a socialite was all she knew. Giving up her worldly possessions and everything that came along with it really shook up our family.”

  I frowned. “I’m sorry. I never thought of that.”

  He shrugged it off as if having his life turned upside down hadn’t been a big deal. His eyes told me otherwise though as he thought back on that time. “My parents divorced because of it.”

  “I’m sorry to hear that.”

  He looked away. “Dad wasn’t interested in the person my mom had become. It caused a lot of resentment between them.”

  “How old were you when they divorced?”

  “Seventeen... just about to head off to college.”

  “It must have been hard having your parents split up.”

  “My dad was so bitter. He completely shut me out. The divorce was nasty. And Mom was off just worrying about what made her happy. She didn’t care that she’d given away my entire college fund to some charlatan of a life coach. I had a resentful, bitter father on one side and a self-centered mother on the other.”

  “I’m not sure which one sounds worse...”

  “Oh, my dad was worse by far. My mom at least tried to get me to go with her. My father, on the other hand, made it perfectly clear that if I left with my mom he would pretty much disown me. So I spent, oh let’s see, the past ten years rebuilding my family’s fortune.”

  “Trying to make it up to your father?”

  “Yep. You guessed it.”

  “So, are you happy doing it?”

  “Happy?” He shrugged. “I don’t think about happiness much. I just work.”

  “Sounds like a sad existence,”

  “Ouch. Let’s talk about something else.” He surprised me then by reaching out and touching my face.

  I sucked in a breath and held his eyes which were filled with heat.

  “What do you want to talk about?”

  He didn’t answer. He just leaned over and kissed me. I returned the kiss, moaning as his lips caressed mine. He was a great kisser and his lips were warm and soft. He took his time, moving his lips gently over my own.

  I was hot and bothered, growing wet in mere seconds as his lips moved over mine. And then he was lifting me up, bringing me into his lap again as if he needed me closer. He continued kissing me as he let his hand slide under my top. I gasped and pulled away. He instantly pulled his hand back.

  “Do you want me to stop?”

  I swallowed thickly and tried to speak, but couldn’t. I just shook my head and pulled his lips back to my own, sighing against the feel of his hand as it made its way yet again to just below my ribcage.

  And as he abandoned my lips and started kissing my neck, he freed one of my breasts from my bra and began to play with my nipple until it was hard and pressing against his hand, begging for attention.

  He shoved my top up then and placed gentle kisses across my collarbone, making a path with his lips to my breast. He teased my nipple between his fingers before pulling it into his mouth.

  His mouth was warm and wet and I moaned as he sucked my nipple, alternating tempo and pressure.

  I gasped his name and he took that moment to shove my bra down and release my other breast. He fondled one with his hand while sucking on the nipple of the other.

  The sensation was exquisite, and I shuffled a little on his lap, trying to press my sex against his leg. I wanted him badly, more than I’d ever wanted any guy. Something about Magnus made me hot all over. And for that reason, I knew my attraction to him was dangerous. Magnus’s kisses, his touch, the feel of his fingers caressing my nipples, the feel o
f his tongue on my breast, was addictive. I knew I would want more, need more.

  He ran his hand up between my thighs, coming close to my sex but not touching it. “Are you sure you want to do this?” he asked again, bringing my arms up so I could wrap them around his neck.

  He looked down into my eyes and I returned his look. I couldn’t speak. I could barely breathe; my longing for him was that strong. I only nodded and pulled him close to me.

  His lips met mine again and I opened my mouth just a little as his lips and tongue teased my own. He quickly rid me of my shorts and shoved my panties down before lowering me to the couch. He stood up then and I watched in anticipation as he freed himself of his shirt and then unbuttoned and pushed down his jeans. I reached out and grabbed his impressive cock, rubbing the tip and playing with the drop of moisture I found there. He tossed his head back and groaned. I continued to stroke him boldly and then he finally stilled my hand.

  He climbed on top of me, balancing his weight on the narrow couch, tucking me under him before kissing me again. I tried to deepen the kiss, and as I did he used his thighs to open mine wider so he could gently push into me.

  My lips stilled and I quickly took in a deep breath as he pushed himself into my wetness inch by glorious inch.

  I moaned and arched my hips as he went deeper into me. I thought it would hurt or that he would be met with resistance, but I was so wet, he slid into me easily, pausing to kiss one cheek and then the other as he fully sheathed himself.

  And then once he was buried inside of me, he started to move. He raised himself on his elbows and began to move his member in and out of me.

  I moaned again and wrapped my legs around his waist. My hips shot up to meet every single one of his thrusts and my femininity greedily pulled at his shaft. My inner muscles tightened around him, keeping him snug and close, and he groaned my name as he tried to pull out, only to be stopped by my quaking sex around his own.

  “Magnus....”

  “Am I hurting you?”

  I shook my head and ran my hands across his shoulders, enjoying the feel of his body crushed against mine as he continued moving in and out of me.

  I bit into his shoulder, trying to hold back from the orgasm building inside of me. It started as a dull ache radiating from my sex, moving upward through my entire body. I tossed back my head and screamed as he thrust into me again, pushing and pumping into me over and over. He pulled away from me and pulled my thighs further apart. He took my butt in his large hands and pulled me forward, thrusting into me mercilessly. Gone was the gentleness of earlier and in its place was an almost animalistic lust. And I didn’t care, I couldn’t get enough of him. I wanted more. I wanted it harder, faster, deeper. And so that’s what I asked for, and he complied.

  And then he began to come, shouting my name as he pushed into me one last time before spilling his seed inside of me.

  He kissed me again gently and wrapped me in his arms. It felt comforting and right. And just like that, I fell asleep in a deep, satisfied, post-coital slumber.

  What felt like minutes later my eyes popped open and I stared in pitch black darkness. I peered into the dark and could see a light from afar and I could hear water running.

  I was drowsy, but was immediately fully awake as the dull ache between my legs confirmed what I’d hoped was just a dream. Nope. That had been real life. I wasn’t dreaming. I’d had sex with a virtual stranger and now I was lying in his bed? I looked around. How had I even gotten there? Had he carried me? I looked down and realized I was still panty-less and braless. God, how had I ended up like that? What had I been thinking? I was a wanton, sex-starved geek who hadn’t used her brain at all. And I was consumed by embarrassment.

  I reached for my purse in the darkness and found it on the nightstand. I didn’t bother looking for my panties. I fixed my shirt as best as I could, dug around for my shorts, slid them on and made a run for it. I could still hear the shower going so I figured I had at least five minutes before he would notice I was gone.

  I reached for my cell phone and pressed the app for a rideshare and slid out of his door. I locked the bottom lock behind me, sprinted across the driveway and to the estate entrance where a sleepy guard opened the gate so that I could exit. I paced while rubbing my arms. There was a breeze in the air that night as I waited for the rideshare that popped up in mere minutes.

  I climbed into the car and sighed. I didn’t know why my first thought was to escape, but it had been. I didn’t feel like analyzing my behavior. I didn’t want to think about what had happened at Magnus’s home. I was determined to pretend nothing had happened.

  The driver broke me out of my musing by saying, “Um... Miss... your top.”

  “Huh?” I said.

  He had a deep Southern accent and I was having difficulty understanding him.

  “Your… umm... top...” He sounded nervous and uncomfortable.

  I looked down and gasped. My entire right breast had been hanging out, exposed to the wind and my driver.

  I gulped and quickly covered myself. I cleared my throat and said with as much dignity as I could muster. “Sorry.”

  He laughed. “Hot night?”

  I rolled my eyes and grumbled, “No comment.”

  He laughed again and all I could think of was what was I supposed to do now? I had refused to date Magnus, yet I had jumped into bed with him at the first opportunity. What must he think of me? I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. I didn’t know what tomorrow held, but I knew I was a huge chicken and would avoid finding out.

  Chapter Eight

  I was taking a sick day. By sick day, I meant I was hiding out at Oliver’s house while he was still on vacation and I was avoiding all calls from a certain sexy billionaire.

  I felt like a coward, but that was understandable because I was a coward. I didn’t want to go to work because I was sure I’d run into Magnus there.

  He had called me over and over while I was in the car with the driver. I’d ignored the calls, but then I started getting text messages. Most of them wanted to know what was wrong, where I was and what was going on. I answered none of them and promptly deleted all the voicemails.

  When I’d arrived home, I received another text that said, “Please respond. I just want to make sure you’re ok.”

  The text made me feel instantly guilty, so I responded with: “I’m fine. Just got home.”

  He texted me again. “Why did you leave?”

  I pointedly ignored that text.

  I’d felt grumpy and confused this morning, so I’d been ecstatic when Violet texted me asking me if I had plans today. I had said no, and so she and I agreed to meet at Oliver’s house.

  She came trekking up Oliver’s property fanning herself and breathing heavily. For some reason that no one knew or understood, Oliver did not allow other people’s cars on his property. He was a quirky old man, so we didn’t understand his reasoning for most of the things he did.

  Violet was wearing a white mini dress and sneakers. She looked adorable. If I walked around in a mini dress and sneakers, I would look like a fashion disaster. She stopped fanning herself and gave me a huge smile when she spotted me.

  “What’s up, buddy?” she said making me smile.

  “Hey there... sorry for the hike.” I stood up to meet her.

  “Whatever, it’s like being Cinderella or whichever the rich one was. This place is freaking amazing. I can’t believe I’m hanging out at a billionaire’s house. This is freaking awesome.”

  Her excitement was contagious as she asked me to show her around. We went from room to room with her gasping, oohing and ahhing, and taking selfies in various rooms of the house. I just hoped she didn’t put them on Facebook. I didn’t think Oliver would be ok with that.

  We finally ended up back in one of the living rooms toward the back of Oliver’s house that overlooked the pool.

  “Man, I never figured you for the type to skip out on work. Do you hate it?” she asked, catching me of
f guard again with her bluntness.

  “No. I don’t hate it. I just needed a break.”

  She sat down next to me and tossed her feet up on the coffee table that was probably more expensive than all my student loans combined.

  “Is it one of those nonprofits where everyone thinks they work harder than the other person? And so everyone has some sort of savior complex?”

  “No. Definitely not. They’re great. I love working there.”

  She sighed. “I haven’t found a job yet. And I desperately need one. Mom and Dad are driving me crazy.” She looked at me with a hopeful expression. “Do you think maybe you could put in a good word for me at your job... maybe they might be interested in hiring me?”

  “Of course. I meant to do that ages ago, but I got… distracted.” I didn’t tell her that the distraction had been in the form of a certain very good-looking billionaire.

  She smiled brightly, “Thanks, Les. I’d really appreciate it.”

  We spent the rest of the day lounging around Oliver’s pool. It was nice having a friend to talk to about nothing of importance. I hadn’t made any lasting friendships while in school and I realized that at that moment in my life, Violet was my only friend.

  We were both silently sitting around daydreaming, just enjoying the weather, when she announced, “I heard on TV that Magnus Deacon is in town.”

  I wrinkled my nose. It was like I just couldn’t win. “Really?”

  “Yeah. I heard he’s in town for some charity event. You do know who Magnus Deacon is, right?”

  “Of course, I do.” I grudgingly added, “We’ve met.”

  “No way… what?” she sputtered, sitting up dramatically. She ripped her sunglasses off. “You met Magnus Deacon and you didn’t tell me? How? Where? Oh my gosh, is he as sexy in person as he is on television?”

  I shrugged and tried to appear nonchalant as I underplayed just how sexy Magnus was. “I guess he’s alright looking.”

  She looked at me incredulously. “Alright looking? The man looks like a Greek god. He’s tall, sexy, beautiful eyes... beautiful teeth.”

  “Beautiful teeth?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “Yeah, he does have a great smile,” I said, not noticing until that moment that the thought of his smile made me smile as well.