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Longing (Billionaire Venture Capitalist #7): A Billionaire Romance

Page 7

by Ainsley St Claire


  “Wow. Tell me about your company.”

  “We have all night to talk about them, and I hope to introduce you to them eventually.”

  “Okay then, what do you want to talk about?”

  The hostess arrives with a tray in her hands to carry our drinks. “Mr. Reinhardt, your table is ready.”

  We hand over our drinks and follow her into a semiprivate room in the back.

  “Are you celebrating anything special tonight?” she asks us as we follow her.

  Christopher winks at me and smiles. “Yes. Our reunion.”

  “Very nice. Here’s your table.” As she places our drinks in front of us, she shares, “You will be served by Michael and Jean-Claude this evening. Can I offer you carbonated or still water for the table?”

  Christopher looks at me and offers me the choice. “Carbonated please.”

  “I’ll have the same.”

  We settle in, and I look across at him. He truly is handsome, but I don’t know very much about him. “I guess we should back up and get to know one another a bit. Where are you from originally?”

  “Minnesota. And you?”

  “I grew up here in San Francisco, but I was born down in Los Angeles while my parents were in medical school.”

  “It’s very rare to grow up here. What part of The City did you live?”

  I chuckle. “The Mission. It’s much more popular today with the hipsters, but it was the Hispanic neighborhood when I was growing up. It’s my favorite.” I take a sip of my water. “What about your family? Brothers? Sisters?”

  “I have a brother and a sister. Both live within twenty minutes of my parents. What about you?”

  “Just me. My mom was very focused on her career. My dad and I were close.”

  “He has Parkinson’s?”

  “Yes. He was my best friend growing up. I don’t think what we are creating will help him, but it may help others.”

  When a tray of raw oysters arrives, I look at him in surprise.

  “You did mention them in your text message. I know they are quite the aphrodisiac but no pressure. Honest.”

  “You’re too much.” When I reach for him, I feel the electricity between us. “Did you order anything else?”

  “That’s all I ordered. You can get the lobster if you’d like. Anything and everything on the menu.”

  I look the menu over carefully. “I think I’ll go with the tuna. What looks good to you?”

  “You mean other than you?”

  I blush.

  “Too much?” he asks, and I shake my head. “I’ll probably go with the sea bass.”

  Jean-Claude arrives and asks us about the oysters.

  While we eat, I ask, “Tell me about your company. Do you like the people you work with?”

  “Very much. It was started by these three guys who had gone to undergrad together at Stanford. They each worked for various start-ups and made more money than they knew what to do with. This all started when they used their money to continue to invest in other start-ups, and they liked doing that rather than work for the companies they worked for, so they formed their own investment company.”

  “Sounds like they have the magic touch.”

  “Well, they’ve grown. They hired their lawyer, Sara, and Dillon heard Emerson speak at a conference, and bringing her and her company into SHN was a real game changer for them. What makes us different than any other VC company out there is that we tend to take over a lot of the operational side so that the company can focus on what they do right. And I’m one of three partners who go out and talk companies, like Black Rock, into allowing us to invest in them.”

  “I would think companies would line up around the block to allow you to invest in them.”

  “Many would, but not all companies want one large investor. That gives us a lot of say in how things are done. But in less than ten years, we’ve had over one hundred and fifty companies go public or were successfully sold, and our failure rate is under 10 percent.”

  “That must be why Dr. Johnson is so interested in you financing us.”

  “We have a lot of boxes to check before we go there.”

  I’m stunned by this comment. “Really? He seemed to think we’d have a check from you guys in a few weeks.”

  His eyes grow to saucers. “Um, no. If we move quickly, we might be there in six months.”

  “Wow. Why so long?”

  “I still need to get more into your data, which I can’t do until we sign a nondisclosure. If I believe it’s a strong investment, I will pass it along to the technology team. Our technology team will work with someone to validate your conclusions. If it passes that hurdle, it goes to our finance team. They’ll want to be sure we get a sound investment and determine our commitment. Once we can agree to that, it goes to our operations team. They will meet with you and Dr. Johnson and all your staff and do an evaluation. Sometimes we make suggestions of leadership changes.”

  The hair on the back of my neck stands on end. “Would you terminate partnership agreements?”

  “Not necessarily. We’ve had founders that move to advisory roles. Much depends on their leadership styles.” He reaches across the table and holds my hand while rubbing his thumb over my knuckles. “I’m only describing what we do in general. I can’t say any of this will apply to Black Rock.”

  I nod, understanding what he’s saying. “Are we allowed to talk to other venture capital firms? Could they come in and undercut you for money?”

  “It’s happened. But if you’re doing it for timing, the standard due diligence for all venture capital firms is a minimum of six months out.”

  Our dinners arrive, and we talk about every topic I can think of, and it’s a refreshing conversation. He appreciates my opinion, even when it’s different, and he makes me laugh.

  Clearing our plates, Jean-Claude asks, “Care for coffee or dessert tonight?”

  “We’ll take a look,” I offer.

  He leaves the dessert menus behind, and we look them over.

  “Are you having fun tonight?” Christopher asks.

  “I am. It’s a welcome distraction from everything going on in my life.”

  “I’m not ready for tonight to end.”

  I sit back in my chair. If I'm honest with myself, neither am I. I wouldn’t mind exploring things further, but I’m conflicted. “If we explore a personal relationship, will that preclude your company from investing in mine?”

  “Honestly, I’m not sure. Our partnership agreements only define in-office relationships. But I’m incredibly interested in a personal relationship with you.”

  My heart beats faster, and in my mind, I’m doing a happy dance. “I’d be interested as well, but my company needs funding.”

  “I can tell you where I stand right now on funding Black Rock. I like what you’re doing and think it would be a nice bonus to our portfolio. I plan on passing it along. I don’t make the final decision to fund and, as I mentioned, you have several hurdles to pass. I think operationally is where you will struggle. Dr. Johnson may be a problem, but without him, you may struggle to get the name recognition needed to finance without your PhD.”

  I take in what he says. “Thank you for your honesty.”

  “Did I just ruin any chance of exploring a personal relationship?”

  “I don’t think so. I was thinking about dessert. What about you?”

  “I thought I might have you for dessert.”

  The thought alone turns me on. I’ve very fond memories of the last time we were together. “Then maybe we should get the check and go somewhere more conducive to that.” I’m shocked at how forward I’m being, but I can’t help myself around him. I’ve had a great time, and I want more.

  He pays the check, and as we wait for a rideshare, he lowers his mouth to mine. He kisses me softly, and I open my mouth with a low moan, wanting more of Christopher—all of Christopher.

  “We can go to your place or mine, but the rule is we are having breakfast tom
orrow morning.”

  “I will have to do some work tomorrow.”

  “Do you want to pick up whatever you need from your place and stay at mine?”

  I like the sound of that, so we swing by my apartment and pick up an overnight bag, my work, and study things for tomorrow.

  We make out in the car like teenagers, getting my motor running. When we arrive at Christopher’s place, he carries my things inside and drops them by the door before pushing me up against the wall. His hands explore me. I want this so bad.

  He removes my dress, letting it pool at our feet. “You’re so beautiful,” he murmurs. His mouth covers mine as he continues his exploration.

  I pull his tie and begin to unbutton his shirt, trying hard not to break our kiss. I slide his heavily starched shirt over his shoulders and drop it on top of my dress.

  He traces the outline of the lace of my bra and runs his fingers over my nipples as they harden and ache for more attention. “I love how receptive your body is to my touch.” He bends down and bites at my nipples through the thin satin.

  His belt is my next goal. “I get my dessert too, don’t I?”

  “You can have as many servings of dessert tonight as you want,” he growls.

  I unbuckle his pants, and they fall to the floor. His cock escapes his boxers as I slink my hand around his hardness. I moan at the sight of it, the feel of it, the same way I did the last time we were together. “You make me so hot,” I say as his hand slides into my panties, his fingers finding my opening. When I massage his balls, he moans in my mouth. He grabs me by the hand and leads me into his living room. The floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the bay are majestic, but more exciting to me is what is hidden inside his boxer briefs, so I slide them off his hips. He’s beautiful.

  “You’re first. I’ve been craving this pussy ever since you left me—which you will be punished for this evening.” I sit down on the black couch, the coolness of the leather juxtaposed to how hot I’m feeling. He opens my legs wide, exposing me completely, and his other hand begins to softly finger my folds. I’m already dripping. He leans down and takes a long and luscious lick which lights me on fire.

  He’s so hard it makes me want to fuck him until I can’t see straight.

  His hands explore as he kisses down my taut stomach. When he reaches the top of my pussy, I grab the sides of his face and try to stop him. I want to pleasure him, but he has other ideas. Laying back, I relax and take in his ministrations.

  Taking a deep sniff of my scent, he dips his face down between my legs and licks me from one end of my slit to the other, from bottom to top. His tongue drags across my hard clit, which is so swollen it almost feels like it’ll burst. He does it a few times before finally taking it between his lips and sucking it into his mouth. He runs his tongue back and forth across it quickly, and I wrap my fingers in his hair, pressing his face into me so hard it’s a miracle he can breathe.

  My breathing becomes labored, my hips moving involuntarily, and I fist the accent pillows around me. “I’m going to come!”

  He inserts his fingers into my tight canal and thrusts them in and out while his tongue strums my clit. I moan my satisfaction, and even if only for a moment, he looks content.

  He wipes his chin of my juices as his other hand reaches across to his wallet on the side table, retrieving a condom package. I watch as he rips it open with his teeth and rolls it on.

  “Are you ready?” he asks.

  I nod, not sure of what to expect. Christopher’s much bigger, and I was pretty sore for a few days after last time. It was a good kind of sore.

  He teases me, rubbing his hard cock over my throbbing clit before entering, moving slowly for a few seconds, giving me time to adjust to his size. Once I’m stretched comfortably around him, he begins to move faster, plunging in and out of me. The look of ecstasy on his face is almost as sexy as the feeling of him inside me.

  Each stroke pulls out another level of pleasure until I’m sure I’m going to pass out. He’s moaning and panting as he picks up his pace, and I claw at his back, sure to be leaving scratch marks in my wake. I wrap my legs around his body, his hands everywhere as he slams into me repeatedly. He closes his eyes and lifts his chin as he locks in place above me, crying out loudly. I take control of our sex and work him as best I can from beneath him, needing to watch him come undone. He cries out again, and I come from the intense pressure mixed with the deliciously hot sounds of him taking what he needs from me.

  Limp with exhaustion, we lie here for a few minutes with Christoper resting against me. I run my fingers through his sweat-slicked hair and over his back. I can’t help but kiss the side of his face over and over again. Our limbs are intertwined, our bodies as close as they can be, reassuring ourselves and each other as we attempt to catch our breath.

  We’re both sweaty and raw, and just so well-fucked. He falls beside me on the couch, takes my hand, kisses it, and holds on tight. I turn my face to his, our foreheads touching, our hearts beating in unison. “Don’t let me go.”

  “Never,” Christopher says. And I believe him.

  Chapter twelve

  Christopher

  My cell phone rings, and I see it’s my buddy, Dave. “Hello?”

  “Dude, you up for a game of basketball this evening and hitting Scotty’s Bar afterward? Say around six thirty?”

  “As long as Greg isn’t playing tonight. I’m still nursing a bruise on my hip that he gave me. It’s putting a crimp in my style with Bella.”

  “I heard you met some girl,” he teases.

  “I did, and she could be the one.” I say that with so much confidence that I realize I’m speaking the truth.

  “Mr. Right Now is thinking he may have found Miss Right?”

  “It’s still early, but she hits everything on my list.”

  “You can tell us all about her during our game.”

  “Are you kidding? You might try to snake her out from under me. No way. I’m telling you, so you don’t try to get me to go home with some warm body tonight at Scotty’s.”

  “Fine. I was raised to share. You can be that way. See you at the Y.”

  I do not share. Absolutely not. No way. I know he’s teasing me, so I let it go. “Ciao.”

  I hang up to go back to studying and preparing my presentation on Black Rock for Sunday night at our meeting. I like the data and their goals and think they would be great for two big pharmas I’ve sold to in the past. At some point, I’m going to have to come clean about my relationship with Bella. I don’t want it to affect anything, and I want to keep this on the up and up.

  I pull out my partnership agreement and read the clause about personal relationships. It says I need to inform the managing partner if I have a personal relationship with an SHN employee, a client, or a prospective client. Fuck.

  I instant message Mason from our intranet.

  Me: Hey, you got a second?

  Mason: Sure, come on in.

  I wander to his office and sit across from him. “I’m preparing my presentation for Sunday night on Black Rock Therapeutics.”

  “How are they looking?”

  “I’d say pretty decent. I’m going to refer them on. I should tell you, I met a girl a few weeks ago, and we started dating.”

  He looks at me and a crinkle forms between his eyes, signaling he’s puzzled by the sharing of my personal life. “She works for Black Rock and is the person behind the idea. Up until recently, I had always talked to Dr. Vance Johnson, and he never introduced us or even spoke about her. Bella and I randomly met at a club, and I approached her when some guy was too friendly and wouldn’t take a hint. It’s truly a coincidence. My partnership agreement tells me I’m to notify you of the relationship.”

  The crinkle goes away. “Okay. Who is she in relation to the organization?”

  “Dr. Johnson refers to her as his research assistant, but she’s the co-founder and is a PhD candidate at Berkeley. This idea came from her dissertation.”

&nb
sp; “But Dr. Vance Johnson is leading this?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you feel about the investment?”

  “Well, I don’t want to shade anyone’s opinion, but I think Dr. Johnson is a weasel. I like her, and honestly, I’m not going to try to influence this, but she’s the brains behind this. He couldn’t explain her data or where they were in vetting their process. He worked hard to keep us separate, but I showed up, expecting to meet a man and it was her. The idea is solid, and the research seems legit. I will let Emerson make any personnel decisions.”

  “This is the woman you mentioned at dinner—you met her and didn’t get her information.”

  “That’s her. I was shocked when I found her at Black Rock.”

  Mason looks at his hands, which are crossed in front of him, and is silent a few moments. Then he shrugs. “Okay, consider me informed. You don’t have to share that fact on Sunday night and hopefully one of these Sundays you can bring her to dinner at the Arnaults’. Annabelle would love to have someone else to hang out with.”

  I’m not sure I want Annabelle anywhere near Bella; she might turn her into a stuck-up bitch.

  “I hear ya. All right then, I’ll get back to it.” I return to my office and feel good that I’m not doing anything underhanded or tricky.

  When six o’clock rolls around, I pack up and head to the Y. It’s the best basketball court in the city, and over time I’ve met a bunch of guys who are similar in skill level, and we will play against one another for a workout a few nights a week.

  I see my buddy Dave. “Hey. You ready to get your ass kicked?”

  “Dream on, dude. You’re going down,” he teases.

  I love that we can joke about basketball. We’re both huge college hoops fans, but I tend to be a Carolina fan while he pretends to be a Michigan fan—a far lesser college basketball team.

  While we dress, we talk a little bit about college basketball and where the NCAA’s will be this year and who might be going pro.

 

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