The Billionaire’s Seduction
Part 2 of 2
JS Wilder
Contents
Copyright
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The Billionaire’s Seduction (Part 2)
1. Anna
2. Anna
3. Adam
4. Anna
5. Adam
6. Anna
7. Anna
8. Anna
9. Adam
10. Adam
11. Adam
12. Anna
13. Anna
14. Anna
15. Anna
16. Adam
17. Anna
Bonus: The Billionaire’s Temptation (Part 1)
Prologue
1. Anna
2. Adam
3. Anna
4. Adam
5. Anna
6. Adam
7. Anna
8. Adam
9. Adam
10. Anna
11. Adam
12. Adam
13. Anna
Thank you for reading!
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
The Billionaire’s Seduction
Copyright (c) JS Wilder. Feb 2016
Written by JS Wilder.
All Rights Reserved.
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Sincerely,
JS Wilder
Part I
The Billionaire’s Seduction (Part 2)
Chapter 1
Anna
Fuck.
It can never, ever, ever happen again.
This has been my mantra in the days following my night of absolute bliss with Adam. That’s what it was—bliss. It was also hot, steamy, erotic, animalistic and emotional as hell, the way one emotion after another welled up inside me, echoing the way Adam slammed into me. I couldn’t resist him, the same way there was no way to resist the overwhelming emotions sweeping through me as we came together again and again, all night.
Just the thought of last night sends a warm tingle deep in my core. I feel myself getting slightly wet, as though a switch has been flipped on which will never shut off again.
No. It can never, ever, ever happen again.
I shake myself. I need a cold shower right now.
All my physical arousal gets me to thinking, why can’t it happen again? Why not now? I have to answer myself again this time. On top of the fact that office romances are frowned upon here, it can kill my career just as much as it can give it a leg up, which is technically unethical, there’s also Kelly. She is clearly not on board with this physical aspect of my interaction with my boss.
“What does the text say?” I ask Adam, not ready to listen to the voicemail she left me. “I mean, exactly what did she say?”
He looks up at me, his eyes seeming to glow vividly from the glare of his smartphone screen. He had gone from wanton sex god to perturbed businessman in no time at all. The worry lines on his forehead reflect his concern.
“All it says is, I think it would be best if Anna does not accompany us to Fashion Week in LA. If you want to talk more about it, come by my office tomorrow.” He even holds out the phone to me so I can see it for myself.
“Where is this coming from?” I ask, hugging my knees against my chest. It’s like I’m little kid all over again, unsure of myself. Wanting the older, cooler kids to like me, wondering why all of a sudden it seemed as though they didn’t – especially when I thought I was getting off on a good foot with them. I thought Kelly liked me.
“Listen to the voicemail she left you, maybe she explains herself a little better there. You can’t tell tone of voice from a text message,” he reminds me. So I listen.
“Heeeeeey, it’s Kelly,” she says. “Listen, I hope you’re doing better.” Right. I left the office in a blind panic this afternoon when I found out about the photos in the tabloids. I know she must have seen me rushing off, tears in my eyes. “In light of what appeared in the…well, in the tabloids…I don’t know if it’s the best idea for you to come along with us to Fashion Week. I’m only thinking of you, sweetie, believe me. We can catch up on it tomorrow if you want—give me call when you get in.”
It’s not as harsh as Adam had originally made it out. I look up at him, my eyes searching his face for some sign of his opinion on this new development. He’s stoic, unmoving.
“Say something, please,” I ask. “Or at least sit down. You’re making me nervous. I already have the jeebies.”
He’s been standing beside the bed ever since he walked back in with my bag and his phone. He smirks at my choice of words.
“Jeebies?” he asks, then perches on the edge of the bed. To think, just minutes earlier it had been the scene of the most passionate, earth-shattering sex I’d ever had. Now it’s as though the wall I felt between us ever since I first walked into the offices of Trendsetter is firmly back in place.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m gonna go ahead with my original plans for Fashion Week, what do you think?” His jaw tightens as to match his strained voice. As much as this little development makes my stomach do a few flips, I can’t help myself. My body responds sexually to his change in demeanor. Something about his take-charge confidence. His resolve is like a key turning in my ignition.
“Even if Kelly specifically asked you not to?”
“Are you kidding? More like because she specifically asked me not to!” There’s the petulant little boy, the arrogant kid who has to have his way.
“Don’t make waves on my account,” I demur. The last thing I want to do is cause friction in the team. Kelly has seniority. She knows the magazine inside out, much better than Adam or myself. Then I slept with him. There’s no way this won’t blow back on me.
Adam turns to me, his hair still sticking out in tufts where my fingers so recently clawed their way through. “This wasn’t your idea in the first place, remember? It was mine. I have the final say, and I don’t like being told what to do. Even by you.”
“I heard a rumor to that effect…” I add, trailing off sarcastically.
His eyes narrow, his beautiful mouth curves into a smirk. “Cute.”
He stands, stretching. I can’t keep my eyes from raking over his body, from head to toe. Adam is perfection. Naturally, he notices my appraisal.
“Like the view?”
I roll my eyes. He knows I do. I won’t admit it now. He takes my leering at him as an invitation to crawl on top of me, where I still sit wrapped in the cotton sheet. I just told myself this can’t happen again, yet I sit here now like I’m frozen when he slowly pulls the fabric down my body. Is it me or is he just this irresistible? Either way, his warm hands on my skin gets me to where my eyes are closed, my head back on the pillow, his lips against mine, chest to chest, his hips wedged between my legs.
Until his phone buzzes in his pocket, ripping me from the haze.
I place a firm but gentle hand on his chest. “No, Adam,” I choke out against my better judgement. “I don’t think we should.”
I see an entire range of emotions play across his face, all at once. Anger, frustration, disappointment, resignation, confusion. Finally he lands on begrudging acceptance.
“I get it.” He straightens up, hopping back out of bed.
I’m not so easily convinced. “So you’re okay with this?” I’m skeptical that a solitary no is enough for
Adam.
“What do you want me to do, Anna? Weep? Wail? Drop to my knees? Beg you to let me back into bed with you? It’s not gonna happen.”
His tone is flat, as though he really couldn’t care less. I can’t help the sting of pain in my chest. He could at least pretend to care. He looks over to see the pensive look on my face.
“Listen,” he says, his voice warmer than it was before. “I’ll give you your space for now, but don’t think that means I’m okay with letting go of what’s happening with us.”
“What’s happening?” Should I be incredulous or flattered? Or a strange mix of both? At least I know he does want me, after all.
“Don’t pretend you don’t feel it.” He takes a seat on the bed. “I wasn’t kidding when I told you how special you are. How unique. You’re not like any woman I’ve ever known. Like you reminded me in the car on Friday night, I’ve known a lot of women. What was it you called me? A manwhore?” My face gets hot at the memory. He continues. “So, I’m sorry if a few pics of us in a tabloid and a request from one of my employees aren’t enough to get me to let you go yet…because they’re not.”
“What about me? What about what I want?” I ask, defiant. “I’m the one sitting here, telling you there shouldn’t be anything more between us. Remember?” My ire is going up, just like that. How can he be so good at pushing my buttons?
“Anna,” he whispers, now with his face mere inches from mine. “Not even you can stop it. Don’t you know it? Don’t you feel it?”
I do, which is the worst part.
It can never, ever, ever happen again. I shake myself, nearly falling right back down the rabbit hole all over again. I’m saved by the bell—or, rather, the phone. This time it’s my phone. I reach over to grab it, seeing the very name I most dread. My father. Again. It can’t be good.
“This is the second time he’s called in the last half hour.” I’m suddenly nauseated. Adam takes my cue, leaving the room to find his clothes.
“Yes, Daddy…no, Daddy…no, now you know better than anybody what those trashy tabloids are willing to do to get a story…I know, Daddy, I am so, so sorry…absolutely not, it was totally innocent…I know, I’ll be more careful from now on…” I barely hear what he says because my mind already knows. He is ashamed. I’m sabotaging my reputation before I even get out the gate. I’m bringing embarrassment to our name. I wasn’t raised this way. He brought me up to be better than this.
Adam walks in on the tail end of my conversation. I see sympathy in his eyes. I get the impression he’s had his share of irate phone calls from a disappointed parent. He holds up one hand in farewell, a gesture I mimic. This goodbye is surreal. I don’t even want him to leave. The door leading out to the hall closes softly. It’s as though something else is closing along with it.
I take a breath, facing the facts. This call from my father was timed well in more ways than one. Not only did Dad keep me from making another mistake by breaking up the moment, he’s reminding me why this can never, ever, ever happen again. I can’t risk my career or the family’s reputation on this guy, even though I want to point out a few things as he reprimands me. For instance, how I managed to go through four years of college without so much as a single mishap or any mark against me. Yet one night, just one dance with my boss, makes me a slut. Now I wish I’d let loose a little more during my college years so this would fade in comparison.
I toss the phone onto the bed then sink back into the pillows, ducking my head under the sheets. Oh God, they still smell like him. A little thrill runs through me again as I relive every last detail. The way he felt, sounded and tasted, the way he almost ripped me apart from the inside out with the pleasure he delivered to my body. I was never taken to such heights before. Now all my body wants is to do it again.
No, I remind myself. It can never, ever, ever happen again.
Chapter 2
Anna
“With all due respect, Adam,” Kelly says. We’re seated across from Adam’s desk on Tuesday morning. She seems to have a fire in her eyes. “It’s often better to leave decisions like this to someone with a clearer perspective. You’re too wrapped up in the situation to see the bigger picture.”
He scowls at her, his full mouth twisting. I try not to remember what his mouth did to me just over twelve hours ago.
“What situation?” he asks. I struggle not to sigh aloud. He’s deliberately being obtuse.
Kelly, however, does sigh while sweeping her blonde hair over one shoulder. “The situation with you and Anna, Adam. The situation with the tabloids.” She turns to me with a kind smile. “Sorry, Anna. I know how embarrassed you must be, but we have to face this head on.” I nod, shrinking in my seat a little bit. She turns back to Adam.
“How will it look if you two are seen together again in LA? We’re trying to tamp down rumors here, not throw more fuel onto the fire. Believe me, I understand your perspective. The photos Anna took at the club on Friday, along with the posts she created from them, were a hit.” I warm slightly, until she adds, “Still, you have to see this is way too risky. I’m only thinking of the future of the magazine here. Our brand matters. It will matter long after you leave us, Adam.”
Adam’s eyes narrow. I know he’s taking in the full picture Kelly is painting in her ultra-chic, black jersey, sheath dress and mile-high Jimmy Choo pumps. She screams taste, sophistication. She’s a formidable opponent. She’s also reminding him he won’t be here forever. She might even be implying he won’t be here for long.
“I’m thinking of our future as well, Kelly.” Adam’s clenches his jaw tightly. I realize this means he will not concede. “Which is why we need Anna’s fresh point of view on hand. She can capture the moments you or I may otherwise miss. She needs no direction, as you know. Even I know self-starters are rare. She’ll present what she sees in a way which appeals to the younger demographic we’re trying to reach.”
His emphasis on the word younger isn’t missed by me…or by Kelly, evidently.
Her posture changes, her jaw lifts. “I see,” she murmurs, uncrossing her slim legs to stand. “Well, then, there’s nothing else to say.” She turns to me, smiling tightly. “I’m sure we’ll have a lot of fun in LA.”
If she’s so sure, why do I have this block of ice in my stomach?
* * *
“Champagne, miss?” I look up at the flight attendant to refuse with a smile.
“Oh, come on, Anna,” Kelly croons from beside me. “Loosen up! We should celebrate everything we’re about to accomplish this week. It’s going to be big. I’m so excited for you.”
I give in, taking a flute for myself, tapping it lightly against the one Kelly is now holding. “To Fashion Week. To a new beginning for Trendsetter,” she says before downing the glass.
I sip mine a bit more conservatively as Adam crosses my mind.
Yes.
New beginnings all around.
It didn’t look good for a while there. My chance of landing a seat on this flight to LA with Kelly dipped temporarily down close to nil before it climbed up to fifty-fifty again. What I learned from Adam, again, is he is determined to have his way, no matter how much Kelly or the other senior staff object. Kelly did put up a strong front of her own, but she knows how to pick her battles. The two of them are worthy adversaries. I realized as much every time I watched them go at it.
I look over at her from the corner of my eye, reflecting on what a difference this new attitude was from the one Kelly presented in Adam’s office the morning after the fateful phone messages she sent the two of us. What changed her tune?
I don’t have the time to devote much thought to it, though. When we land in LA I’m so excited I can hardly think straight. Although this trip got off on the wrong foot, there’s no denying how exciting it is for me to be here. I have to laugh at myself. New York’s Fashion Week was now old hat.
Kelly leads me through LAX, talking a mile a minute. I notice we’re not heading to the baggage claim, but instead str
aight out the door to a waiting car.
“Oh, sweetie,” Kelly says with a laugh. “We don’t need to worry about any of it. The magazine has people who do things like getting the bags or taking them to our rooms. We can’t be seen wheeling luggage through the airport like…regular people.” She laughs, feeling fabulous. I smile as though this is all perfectly natural, while hoping the “people” in charge of my bags will be careful.
I manage not to ask about Adam. I’ve gotten the impression I should stay far, far away from him as a topic of conversation. I’m sure Kelly doesn’t have the wrong idea about us…or does she? After all, she saw us in the hallway that night, after the club. Maybe she shares the opinion the rest of the world holds. She’d be right, of course. We did sleep together, just not then. But it was over now.
Still, even though I know I have to forget about him I can’t help wondering where he is. I know he flew separately and landed hours ago, but I couldn’t get anything else out of his assistant when I asked about his itinerary. I hope he remembers we have a show to attend this afternoon. In fact, the long, sleek black car waiting for Kelly and me outside of LAX whisks us straight to the Ralph Lauren show. I’d feel a lot better if he were with us. Something tells me he’s the type who needs to be wrangled.
I can’t resist the urge to primp while in the car. I know Kelly is amused with me, but I don’t care. This is the first big break of my career. I want to look impeccable, to present a good image of myself for the magazine. I deliberated like crazy over what to bring with me this week. I hope my Dolce & Gabbana floral print dress and classic pointed toe pumps are up to par this afternoon.
“All ready for some action?” Kelly asks. I pull it from my shoulder bag with a thumbs up. I’m more than ready. Just then I make a note for the first time today of how similarly we’re dressed. I’m relieved as I slide the large, round Donna Karan sunglasses over my eyes before climbing out of the car. Everything’s going perfectly. Everything except Adam’s absence, of course.
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