Loving the Secret Billionaire

by Adriana Anders

  “So are you.”

  “How can you tell?” My body moved up and back, up and back.

  “You feel good, you smell good. This,” He grasped my hips and used me to stroke him. The wet sound made me cringe and him growl. “That noise is the sexiest thing I’ve ever heard. Other than your voice.”

  “My…” I trailed off when he reached between my legs, slid his finger between my lips and explored me in a way I’d never before been touched.

  “You’re wet again. So fucking wet. I love this.” He twisted his hand. “Is your clit always hard like this?”

  “I…” I could barely talk through the feel of him, the pleasure he pushed through my pores. “I don’t think so. I think it’s like you…your…”

  “My cock?”

  “Yeah. I think it gets harder when I’m turned on.”

  He pinched me there and I squirmed. “Oh, that’s good. How’d you learn that?”

  “I read books, you know.” At his urging, I rolled off him, so we lay facing each other on the bed. “I get off listening to porn.” His tone changed. “Yeah. You liked this the other night. Taking my fingers. I gave you two on the porch. What if I fuck you with three?”

  My body tightened around him.

  “No, no. You gotta relax. Here. I’m just gonna slide it in.” His voice came out husky.

  I had no words left. Nothing except guttural, animal grunts and sighs. But he liked that, I could tell. He kissed me once when I got really loud, sort of eating up the sound, and then went back to the job of fucking me with his fingers. He zeroed in my g-spot again—talented man—and stroked it in his merciless pursuit of my pleasure.

  “I want…”

  I tried to tell him that this wasn’t going to work, or maybe that he needed to hurry and put on a condom or… I didn’t know. I had no freaking clue what I was trying to say.

  “Hold on.” He reached behind him and came up with the box, tore it open, and then made quick work of sliding a condom over his erection. I’d have to ask him how he’d gotten so good at that. One day. Just not right now. Not when the only thing I could think about was how he would feel inside me.

  He laid a warm hand on my waist. “Which…what position?”

  “You want to be on top?” I whispered, conscious of how easy this was—talking to a man about sex. After years of awkward, this was a new experience.

  “I don’t…” He huffed out a dry laugh and gave me a squeeze. “I want to do every single position there is. Top, bottom, back, front, God, if we could do it all at once, I would die happy.”

  I rolled into him and let him feel my answering giggle, then the sigh that followed it. “You know what’s crazy?”

  “Hm?” His arm circled my back, pulling me in so that our warm skin touched everywhere.

  “The other night and this, tonight—without even doing it yet—is the best sex I’ve ever had. Ever. You don’t… We could do it on our heads and it would blow my mind.”

  “Is that a challenge?”

  “No.” My cheeks hurt from smiling and I had to kiss him, right there, as hard as I could. I had to show him with my mouth what he couldn’t see—that tears had sprung to my eyes. That the feelings he created in me were too big for my body. “How about…” I slid my leg over his thigh and shifted closer, reached between us and reveled in his reaction to my touch on his cock. I got as close as I could, fitted him to me, and whispered, “You ready?”

  “Yeah. Jesus, yeah.”

  “Okay. I’ll just… We can do it here. Like this.” I removed my hand and shifted my hips forward and then—I couldn’t help it—I watched his face as I took him into my body. His eyes were closed, and it was the first time I’d seen him like that, utter concentration written sharply on his features. His cheeks were pink, the skin appearing stretched over the bones—they looked wider, harder, his brows darker. All of him seemed like more than he’d been before.

  The first inch or two stretched me in a sweet, slow penetration that I would never forget. Finally, once he was seated as far as he could be at this angle, I put my hands on his ass and held him there, squeezed him, so wonderfully aware of his body in mine.

  “I gotta move,” he finally said.

  “Do it.”

  He shifted his hips back and pressed them forward again, back and forward, the rhythm steady and effective. I felt a tickle of something like an orgasm brewing, but we’d never get there like this.

  “Goddamn, Veronica. I gotta pound you.” He tweaked my nipple and picked up the pace.

  “Yeah.” I wanted that, too, though I wasn’t sure how it would feel with that big, huge cock. But I wanted it. “Do it.”

  His muscles flexed, and with a single roll, he was over me, hands framing my shoulders and, there, oh, there, everything changed. He pumped into me, hard. So hard it should have hurt, but it was perfection. The tension and friction and pleasure built—and I could see it on his face. His expression—so close to pain—had me mesmerized.

  “I wanna…”

  “What, Zach?”

  “I wanna fuck you harder. Really hard.”

  Those words made my body tighten convulsively around him. His voice was rough when he asked, “You like that? You want it harder?”

  “Yeah. Do it.” I egged him on, my hands grabbing his ass with a slap.

  “Hell,” he muttered into my neck. “I won’t last like this.”

  “Don’t. Just do it. Hard. I love it, Zach.”

  He leaned back a bit, and I let my eyes go down to where he entered me. “Looks amazing.”

  He slowed, just a little, like he hungered for whatever I’d tell him. “Yeah?”

  “You, like this. Fucking me. God, I want to describe it for you.”

  “Maybe next time.” He smiled and picked up the pace.

  “Here, give me your hand.” He slowed his movements, almost to a stop and put his weight on one arm. I grasped his hand and brought it to that place, so he could feel us.

  He growled as his fingers tightened around his cock and then moved to find my clit, more surely than any partner I’d ever had.

  My voice joined his, our chorus hot and rough and animal. I wouldn’t last if his fingers kept circling like that, but the way his breath came told me he was just as close. And then, so suddenly that it shocked even me, it was there.

  Every part of me tensed, my eyes slammed shut, my mind spun high on the crest of climax, suspended as the orgasm passed through my body, my fingers and toes fizzing with almost electric aftershocks.

  I couldn’t let him go. I didn’t want to. I held on with my hands and thighs and pussy, wringing every last jolt of pleasure from my body.

  It wasn’t until the last tremor had passed that I realized I’d have to start breathing again, or pass out. Suddenly too sensitive, I put my hand on his to still him.

  “Oh, my God,” I finally managed.

  “Good?”

  “I can’t even describe it.”

  “Good.” He sounded smug, and I liked that. I wanted that smugness for myself.

  “Keep going,” I told him, urging his hips toward mine. “Come on. I want you to get there, too.”

  He was slower to start up again, but after a bit, his hips took over. He thrust a few times, then slowed for one or two, then sped back up to that relentless pounding. I wanted it like this, I wanted it fast and hard as hell. I could tell, after a bit, that he was almost there. It was the way he stopped making noise, dipped his head to bite my shoulder and slammed into me, out of control and messy and so damned perfect. A couple dozen times and he was done, pressing into me hard and deep—silent until it was over and then still, his weight heavy on me. Heavy and warm and everything I wanted.

  “You okay?” I finally whispered.

  He shook with what I hoped was a laugh. “Jesus. Yeah. Better than okay.” He turned to take my mouth in a possessive, happy kiss. “Is it weird to say I love you?”

  I shook my head and kissed him back to cover up the big, ugly cr
y trying to claw itself out. It was raw and emotional, this thing he’d set off inside me and I had no idea what to do with it. I wanted to answer, to give him back those words, but I was suddenly scared.

  9

  Zach

  * * *

  “That was the wrong thing to say, wasn’t it?” I asked on my way back from the bathroom, the question an echo from the other night.

  “It wasn’t. Not at all.”

  “I don’t believe you.”

  “You’ve got more courage than me. I guess that’s what it is.”

  “I have more courage than you? The guy who never leaves his house is more courageous than the schoolteacher running for city council?”

  “You’re blind, Zach.”

  Great. Now she’s using the blind card as an excuse for the way I live my life. I love her for it, but I can’t let her do it.

  “You saying you’ve never seen a blind person out in the world?”

  “I have, but—”

  “I was blinded in a car accident, okay? A trick of fate that took my parents and left me without one of my senses. I’ve adapted. But look at me. I can’t even make myself leave my house. You’re the one who’s brave, Veronica. You’re willing to get out there and fight, while I do everything from here. Hiding.”

  “I don’t feel brave.” She wrapped an arm around my chest and gave me some of her warmth.

  “Why’d you run? I mean you explained who you’re fighting for, but what was the last straw? Or was it a gradual thing?”

  “It was gradual, I guess. And then sudden.”

  “Oh, that clears it up.”

  I loved the light smack she gave my arm before kissing it.

  “It was the library,” she finally said. “Library and lunch, in the same day.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “They proposed to cut funding for both the school library and the city branch, downtown.”

  “I had no idea.” If I’d known, I might’ve done something. Or maybe not. I was always connected, but my world was way outside of this place. It was starting to sound like I should have been paying attention to things closer to home.

  “Well, you wouldn’t. It doesn’t exactly make headlines with all the crap happening around us nowadays. But these little things matter, you know? There are folks who wouldn’t read a book if not for the library. It’s a place to learn, to congregate. It’s shelter and warmth for some. I grew up hoarding library books. We couldn’t afford to buy books, but I read.”

  “What about the lunches?”

  “The policy in our school system has always been to let kids accrue debt as the year goes on. We’d never turn away a kid who couldn’t afford to pay. And it’s a buck freaking fifty, you know?” An ache started up in my chest at the emotion in her voice. “If a family can’t afford to send their babies to school with that much cash—even when they’re already on a reduced lunch program—how can they possibly get them clothes or books, for heaven’s sake? So, our fiscally conservative school board has voted to make those kids pay, starting next year. Can you picture the embarrassment? You’re ten years old and you get to the register and Nana Schwartz has to shake her head no, that you can’t have that crappy slice of pizza and carton of milk? Every kid will see you’re one of the poor ones? And what if it’s the only food you’re getting all day?”

  I was stroking her, not interrupting or making any noise, just giving her what comfort I could.

  “Look, Zach. I don’t… I can’t love a man I just met, okay?”

  I nodded, about to tell her it was fine, I’d wait, but she went on, leaving me blinking. What did she just say? Did that even just happen?

  “Those babies, when I’ve got them in my class. They’re four or five and they’re hungry to learn. Playing is learning, you know, and they’re smart. They want to read, they want to count. They want it all so badly. But if they’re malnourished, if they haven’t eaten a veggie in two weeks? If they don’t have a single book in their house? If their parents can’t read enough to decipher their field trip permission slips—much less pay for that field trip? Well…”

  “I’ll bet you pay for them to go, don’t you?”

  She cry-laughed and nodded against me and I rolled into her, wrapped both arms around her and held her. I wanted to do more, give her more. I wanted to fix everything.

  And I would, dammit. I’d do whatever it took. Give her whatever she needed.

  “You’re amazing. You know that, right?” I asked her.

  When she started to shake her head, I held her tighter, and rested my chin on the top of her head with a sigh. “You are some kind of magic, Veronica Cruz, waltzing into my life like this. I know it’s cheesy to say, but I feel like the luckiest man in the world right now.”

  I soaked in the happy sound she made and listened to her breathing.

  When she fell sleep, I peeled her warm, lush body from mine, slipped into my jeans, and padded my way quietly down to the basement, where I sat at my terminal and started typing.

  It was time to ramp things up.

  I hated doing it this way and I had a feeling she wouldn’t like it, but I had no choice. The wrong person was winning this election and I knew, without a doubt, what my mission was—it was easy. Take care of my girl. Keep her safe and happy. And do whatever it took to make sure she won this seat.

  * * *

  Veronica

  * * *

  It was two days before the election and I was tired, but buzzed. I was standing in the middle of a group of hyped up four-year-olds, which added to my overall dizziness. Add to that the three events I had to attend after school, and I wouldn’t see Zach for hours. But I’d see him. I’d spent every night but one at his place for the past few weeks and, even so, I missed him.

  Which was ridiculous.

  And scary. Because I was so head over heels in love that I didn’t think I’d ever get over him.

  But, God, he was perfect. He cooked for me, took care of me, made me feel coddled and beautiful and then, in the bedroom…

  I let out an inappropriate sex-sick sigh before glancing guiltily at Betty, who was holding her favorite book up, and saying, “Weed, weed Miss Ronica. Weed Pweese.”

  I grabbed the book, with a glance at the clock.

  “The day’s done, Betty. Time to clean up and go outside.” I put a hand on her head. “But we’ll look at this tomorrow, okay?”

  “‘Kay.” The others stampeded to their cubbies and waited for me to let them out the door.

  Once the last kid was out, I pulled out my phone and turned it on.

  Holy shit. Somebody’d blown up my text messages.

  O’Neal, asking me to call her early this morning, which was totally unlike her. A couple from Zach, checking in, and then a slew more from my campaign manager and various friends.

  Everything good? The last one was from Zach, who’d sent more than usual. Also weird. Something a little off slithered down my back.

  Great. Just off. Headed to Southwood for a Meet and greet. Town Hall after that.

  His response dots appeared and I switched over to O’Neal.

  What’s up?

  Back to Zach.

  There’s a car for you outside. Blue Audi in the teachers’ lot. You can’t make it on the bus.

  Could too. I smiled. God, I loved him. But thank you. I accept. This once.

  :-)

  I sent a kiss in response to his smiley and went back to O’Neal’s texts.

  Can we talk?

  Yeah. Will call in a sec.

  I ran out to the car, chatted with the driver and took off, a little giddy at not having to bus it. I’d be early, for once!

  I tapped her name and put the phone to my ear.

  “Hey, O’Neal!”

  “You got a minute?”

  “Um, yeeees.” Why did this sound ominous? “Seriously, why are you blowing up my phone?”

  She paused, which sent another wave of foreboding through me. Hesitation was so not my be
st friend’s bag.

  “Okay, O’Neal, now you’re scaring me. What the hell?”

  “Did you see my piece today?”

  “In the paper?”

  “Yeah. Front and center.”

  “Oh! Congrats! That’s amazing! No, I’ve been at school since—”

  “I’m sending it to you. Call me back.”

  I clicked on the link and read.

  Clint Riley Embezzlement Claims Rock Election

  I scanned it. Riley’d been caught stealing from the company where he was COO. No charges had yet been filed, but…

  Another link popped in. This headline read: Clint Riley, Jr. Drops City Council Race Handing Victory to Cruz.

  I dropped the phone, my hands numb, my face, my nose, everything prickling.

  The phone rang from the floor of the car and stopped by the time I got to it. Breathing hard, I called O’Neal back.

  “What’s going on?”

  “You won!” Her excitement sounded forced. “Congratulations, V!”

  This wasn’t right. This wasn’t how it was supposed to happen. I didn’t want it this way. Victory was meaningless if my opponent dropped out of the race. I needed the voters to be behind me, not resentful of my presence there. It felt like I’d cheated.

  “Who broke the embezzlement thing?”

  “I did.”

  My eyes narrowed. Why did she sound so uncomfortable? “Where’d you get the lead?”

  “You know I can’t divulge sources to you, Veronica. It’s about journalistic integrity. That would be—”

  In that moment, something switched in my brain and everything crystallized: Zach’s mystery job, his seemingly endless amounts of money, the army of college kids at his beck and call: Horde. “Did Zach have anything to do with this?”

  She stuttered to a stop. “Uh, not that I know of. Why?”

  “There’s a guy named Horde. He’s big in—”

  “Can’t talk about this.” She was firm in her denial. It was all the confirmation I needed. “No idea who it was who got in touch with me, and you know I’m not allowed to…”

  I was breathing so hard I stopped hearing her. Was this a panic attack? Oh my God, it was. I was having an attack.