Billionaire With a Twist 2

by Lila Monroe

  I briefly considered a topless pic before discarding that idea; if someone from work ever found our dirty texts, I could claim someone else had sent them from my phone, but how that hypothetical someone had got their hands on a topless shot of me would be much harder to explain away.

  I filed that idea away for a day in the future when I worked at a company where my colleagues weren’t untrustworthy sexist shitheads, and sent ‘miss u’ instead.

  I immediately regretted it.

  Not because it wasn’t true, but because it wasn’t sexy. And since our night together, Hunter and I had been keeping our conversations strictly sexy, and far, far away from feelings territory.

  The phone rang.

  Shit, had that been too much? Was he calling to say I should back off? Had he rethought things completely?

  Calm the fuck down, I told myself sternly. You sent him a two word text, not a dozen roses. It’s not a big deal.

  I answered the phone. “Hey.”

  “Hey, Ally.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “It’s good to actually talk to you. I’ve missed you too.”

  I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I was holding.

  “So, how’s it going over there?”

  “Oh, you know, a complete madhouse. So, the usual.”

  “Oh yeah?”

  “My boss is calling every fifteen minutes, the editing team can’t find any of the stable footage, Sandra keeps having to ice her hand to stop it cramping up…” I trailed off, and then laughed. “How do you do that?”

  He sounded confused. “Do what?”

  “Make it all seem so manageable. So okay. Just by listening.”

  “One of my secret ninja powers,” he informed me, deadpan.

  I raised an eyebrow. “Got any others you’d care to show me?”

  “Oh, I’ve shown them to you,” he drawled, and even though it was only his voice over a phone line, I blushed fire-engine red. “And you’ve shown me a few as well.”

  I eyed the door, toying with an idea. I couldn’t hear anyone rushing my way with an urgent development…I rose swiftly and locked it. “Care to see if those powers work over the phone?”

  I knew exactly the face he would be making right now, that slow-spreading sweet honey grin as he took in the meaning of my words. “I surely would.”

  Having suggested it, I found myself suddenly shy. “You start.”

  “I’ve been thinking about your legs,” he said, his voice a low rumble. “Been thinking about that smooth pale skin, thinking about running my hands along it, right from the dip of your ankle on up, sliding my hands under your skirt, stroking those soft pale thighs.”

  I squirmed in my chair. “I love your hands. They’re so big and strong. I press up against them, but you pin me down, and that makes me so ready for you.”

  “What kind of underwear are you wearing?”

  “Satin. Red satin.”

  He groaned. His voice was strained. “Damn, Ally, keep talking.”

  “Are you touching yourself right now, Hunter?” My hand slid beneath my waistband to stroke slowly over the thin fabric of my panties. “I’m touching myself right now, thinking about you thinking about my legs, rubbing yourself through your jeans, or maybe you’ve unzipped your pants and you’re tugging on that big beautiful cock, making it bigger and bigger, just for me, God, Hunter, I’m so wet just thinking about it.”

  “Gonna fuck you so hard,” he grunted. “Fuck you till you’re screaming, begging for more. I’m so hard right now, it feels like my balls are going to explode. I wanna give it to you so good, give you everything you need.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I moaned. “Oh yes. Tell me how you want to fuck me, Hunter. I’ll be so good for you, I promise. I’ll suck you so good, swirl my tongue around it, take it into the back of my throat.”

  “I want to bend you over this desk,” he groaned, and I let my other hand trail up my side to unbutton my blouse, pinch my nipples, already stiff against the fabric of my brassiere. “See those long legs and that perky little ass jutting, see you wet and dripping for me, your tits bouncing in the mirror across from me, your pussy open and just begging me to fuck it.”

  “Oh God, yes…” I panted.

  His voice grew even more ragged. “Or maybe I’ll bend you over the hood of my Rolls and fuck you there till you’re screaming, just like you want me to, you’ll love it—”

  “Oh God yes, yes, Hunter, oh God, I’m so close—” I let my hand dive under my panties, rubbing myself.

  “Do you want me to make you come—” his voice deep and commanding, “so hard you’re seeing stars, so hard it’ll ruin you for any other man but me—”

  “Oh God, Hunter, I only want yours, I only want you—” And then I was coming, my entire body seizing in a transport of pure sensation, my only thought yes.

  Yes, yes, yes.

  Only you, Hunter.

  Only ever you.

  #

  We’d said our goodbyes almost an hour ago, and yet I was still lounging in the library armchair in a blissfully post-coital haze when I heard the sound of approaching footsteps. I hastily rebuttoned my blouse and smoothed down my clothes, grabbing some hand sanitizer from my purse and squirting a generous dollop onto my palm as well. Did the whole room smell of our lust? God, I hoped I was only imagining that.

  “Ally! How’s my favorite refugee from Mad Men Land?”

  It was Martha, bearing gifts of coffee and a greasy pizza. I took them both from her gratefully.

  “I’m bearing up, getting through it. Couldn’t do it without you, though.”

  “Now, now, let’s not exaggerate,” Martha says. “Pizza Hut delivers, even all the way down here in the backwoods.”

  “But would they also deliver my doctor-recommended dose of sass and backtalk?” I asked, taking a long draught of coffee and closing my eyes in bliss at the taste. Oooooh, that was almost as good as sex all by itself. “Plus, you know, you do lots of other stuff besides bring me caffeine and grease.”

  “That’s right,” Martha said. “I also give you something to strive for by showing off the latest acquisitions to my ever-expanding man-harem.” She grinned, delighted and predatory. “Have I shown you pictures of the latest one? He’s an actual honest-to-God underwear model. I thought they were a myth!”

  “Another time,” I said. “But seriously, Martha, you’ve been invaluable. Offering feedback on the designs, organizing the paperwork, making calls, fielding messages for me—you’re a lifesaver. Have you considered ever going into advertising?”

  Martha raised an eyebrow. “Is that a job offer?”

  I sighed. “Oh, I wish it were. As it is, all I can offer you is a good word with an internship, and even that might count against you, the way the feeling is at work lately. But one of these days I’m going to strike out on my own, and believe me, there will be a job reserved just for you.”

  Martha smiled, scrubbing at her eyes as if something had got in them. “You’re sweet, Ally. I can’t tell you how tempting that is…but I’d have to move up to D.C., right? Not sure how I’d feel about leaving home. I really love it here.”

  “All the resources are in D.C.,” I confirmed. “As soon as this job’s done, I’ll be heading back.”

  And how will this affect Hunter and our…whatever we have? Will he still want to be with me? How would we even make that work?

  I pushed those troubling thoughts aside. There’d be plenty of time to worry about that later. Hell, right now there was plenty more to worry about.

  My phone rang, and as I looked at the caller ID, I groaned.

  Another thing to worry about: family dinner.

  Martha saw it too. After fielding a few dozen messages from my mother, she knew exactly how I was feeling. She gave me a sympathetic smile and a pat on the shoulder.

  “Stay strong, Ally girl. I’ll stick around here and make sure these files don’t sneak off on you.”

  #

  “And his investment portfolio was just�
��just…perfect!”

  My mother was very nearly sobbing into her mashed potatoes. Paige rolled her eyes behind her back as she patted her hand, and I tried not to giggle.

  “I thought you liked him,” Mom moaned. “You said you liked him, you said he was a gentleman!”

  “I did, and he was,” Paige said evenly. “There just wasn’t a spark.”

  She met my eyes again and we both smiled secret smiles, thinking of Sergei and art shows and Paige having an apartment of her very own. I’d never felt closer to her.

  My mother’s head snapped up just in time to see Paige smiling her unconcerned smile. “Paige! How can you sit there making juvenile faces when you’ve let the best prospect you’ve seen in years slip through your fingers, my goodness, that man’s stock options alone—”

  Paige looked me, her face asking permission to tell.

  I didn’t really relish the thought of Mom knowing, but Paige had pulled my bacon out of the fire many a time before. I could take the heat this time to get her off Paige’s back. I nodded.

  Paige gave Mom’s hand another pat before withdrawing with a mischievous smile. “Don’t worry so much, Mom—”

  “Don’t worry! She asks me not to worry when I sweat and bleed to get them both married off, but are they grateful, are they—”

  “After all, he might still be your son-in-law. I’m not your only daughter.”

  Silence fell as the words worked their way through Mom’s skull.

  Then the tears shut off like a faucet, and she turned to me with the biggest smile she had ever directed toward me. And that included college graduation.

  “Oh, Allison! Who ever would have thought you had it in you? I told you that job of yours was the perfect way to meet eligible men!”

  Yep, there went the Mom Express, rewriting history as fast as the speed of sound.

  “Well, now this means I simply must meet his parents, that will help cement things, we can’t have him trying to slip out of this one! And with your complexion we’ll have to completely change the color scheme of the bridesmaid’s dresses, and the house I was eyeing down the block is all wrong, you’ll have to knock out the back wing and redo the floors completely, thankfully I’ll be right here to offer advice—”

  Whoa whoa whoa. Rescuing Paige’s bacon was one thing, but I sure as hell had not signed up for this roller coaster.

  I held out my hand like a traffic cop. “Don’t get ahead of yourself. We’re…seeing each other, but it’s not official, and we’re definitely not at the stage of discussing marriage plans, okay?”

  Mom looked at me with wide eyes, a wounded look suggesting that I had said I was not at the stage where we were discussing not murdering puppies. “But whyever aren’t you discussing it? Don’t you want to make it work? Aren’t you thinking about your future?”

  I opened my mouth to reply—

  And realized I didn’t know what to say.

  Hunter was hot. There was no denying it. Just thinking about him could make my breaths come shorter, my pussy grow wet. Being in the same room with him—I couldn’t keep away. Being without him—I missed him like I would miss one of my own limbs.

  And more than that—he was a sweet, considerate, mind-blowingly skilled lover, and an ambitious, driven, decent man. He saw my talent and gave it its due. He had introduced me to new places, new experiences. He supported me.

  But could I ever make it—could I ever make us—work, long-term?

  Could I even make it work short-term, with so much at stake in my career?

  We were both such busy people, working on things that we cared so much about, that we weren’t going to want to stop devoting so much time to. He would never ask me to give up my career in advertising, and likewise, I could never ask him to give up Knox Liquors.

  And besides, I knew so little about him, only the tidbits he had seen fit to share with me. There were still huge gaps in my knowledge of his life. Did I even really know if he was a person I wanted to share my life with?

  Mom was still waiting expectantly for an answer to her question. So was Paige.

  I did the best I could.

  “Yes….?”

  ELEVEN

  The moment I arrived at the estate for the anniversary party, I saw that Paige had outdone herself. She’d gone for a cool vintage bootlegging theme, and the grounds were twenties-style tails and flapper dresses as far as the eye could see. A jug band played over by the manor house, a hot jazz quartet further down by the stables. There was an open bar, and waiters darted and dived between the crowds of chattering guests, offering deep fried apple-pie-on-a-stick and vintage cocktails.

  I had ducked into my cabin as quickly as I could before anyone saw me in my distinctly un-period blue jeans and Rave Boys T-shirt, and after a quick shower, was now changing into a flapper dress of my own. I didn’t really have the slim, near-boyish figure for it, but I loved the way the grey silk slid along my skin, and the hand-beading and embroidery on the hem were to die for.

  Also, any outfit with which you get to wear a hat with an ostrich feather in it is a win.

  Arms encircled me from behind. “Well, don’t you look scrumptious.”

  I jumped before the fact that it was Hunter’s voice penetrated my brain. “You asshole! You scared me half to death!” Despite my harsh words, I relaxed back into his arms, savored the feel of him. God, I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed him until this very moment. “What are you doing here? I thought you needed to get ready—”

  “I couldn’t stay away,” he murmured.

  And then he kissed me.

  It was everything I’d frantically imagined every night of his absence; his lips hot and demanding, his hands fisting in the back of my dress, starting to pull it higher—

  I twisted out of his grip, panting, trying desperately to keep a lid on both my emotions and my hormones. “Oh no you don’t. You are not wrinkling this dress five minutes before I have to go out there.”

  Hunter raised his hands like a suspect surrendering to the police, then leaned in, his tongue tracing a lazy figure eight on my neck, the sensitive skin there tingling under his touch.

  “What if I say ‘please?’” he whispered against my hammering pulse.

  It just might be worth it…no!

  I pulled away again, shaking my finger at him. “You, Hunter Knox, are the devil himself.”

  “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he said, tucking his hands into his trouser pockets with a satisfied smile. Then his face went serious. “I would never ruin your big day for you.”

  “I appreciate that,” I said, and I meant it.

  We grinned at each other like fools for a few seconds. Damn, but that man looked good in a tux, even an old-school one.

  “You nervous?”

  “And excited,” I said. “But yeah, nervous too, for the big unveiling of the new branding and film. My boss is in from D.C., his boss is in from New York; everything’s riding on this.”

  Hunter took my hand and squeezed it. “It’s going to be great.”

  And looking into his eyes, seeing his belief in me, I believed that too.

  #

  We joined the party with a discreet distance between us, trying to make it less obvious that we were…whatever we were. But how could it not be obvious? Couldn’t everyone see the electricity crackling between us? I felt like a little girl trying to hide a broken cookie jar behind her back.

  Paige swooped in out of nowhere for a quick hug. “Oh Ally, I’m so glad I caught you! Best of luck, I know you’re going to be brilliant!” Then her gaze caught on something else, and she was off again: “Martin, I told you and I told you, that shade of mauve is completely period-inappropriate—”

  I spotted Martha over by the bar and gave her a wave. She gave me a friendly wave back before zeroing in on a hot guy and moving in for the kill. The guy didn’t look like he minded being her metaphorical prey one little bit.

  And then I saw the Douchebros, palling around with what look
ed like most of the board.

  Well, not everything could be all roses.

  “Nice outfit, Ally,” Chad sneered. “Did you spend half as much time on your rebranding as your make-up?”

  Hunter growled, and not in the sexy way. I held up a hand in a barely perceptible signal, restraining him.

  I could see the Douchebros jockeying each other, eager to see my reaction. They wanted me to explode, to look emotional and unstable in front of the board members.

  Instead, I gave Chad a look as blank as a wiped whiteboard. “I don’t get it. Why is that funny? Explain it to me.”

  Chad sniggered. “You know.”

  “I do not,” I said in my best robot monotone. “Explain why that joke is funny. Spell it out.”

  “Uh, er…” Chad floundered, seeming to realize for the first time that over half of the board members surrounding him were women. “Uh…”

  One of the board members, Ms. Standish, interrupted with a tight smile. “While he’s searching for words, perhaps we could have some, Miss Bartlett. I was most intrigued by some of your propositions when we last spoke, and my own nonprofit is looking to revamp our ad campaign strategy, perhaps you and your company…”

  She guided me away, still expounding on her plans, leaving the Douchebros with mouths agape.

  Victory was sweet.

  #

  An hour later, I was on top of the world. Ms. Standish had all but signed a contract after our conversation, and now Hunter was about to take the stage and officially introduce the real reason we were all gathered here today. I was going to enjoy this much more than the original plan where Chuck did the introductory remarks; in addition to having a boatload less charisma, he also was significantly less easy on the eyes.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, honored guests.” The microphone made Hunter’s sweet molasses voice boom across to us over the still night air. “It is my honor to present to you the first page of the first chapter of this company. Normally, when people say something needs no introduction, they use that as an excuse to go on introducing it for forty minutes.”