by Cynthia Dane
Did that really happen? Had she really enjoyed it? Even though she had an idea what she was getting into following Monroe home – or to his yacht, anyway – she still couldn’t have anticipated how they would have…
Made love? Was that lovemaking? Alice stood beneath one of the showerheads and closed her eyes, letting the water wash over her skin. I have no idea. I don’t know what lovemaking is. Seemed like the kind of thing one would “know.” Lovemaking at least implied a serious affection. Didn’t have to be full-blown romantic love. Right?
The naïve side of her wanted to declare it lovemaking of the highest order. Even if it was a little rough, beyond intense, and incorporating elements most women probably didn’t experience until they had a lot more, well, experience beneath their sexual wings.
The more mature side of her, however, said she needed to be careful. Monroe was a man who took what he wanted. Or if he didn’t take it, he at least seduced it into his possession. How long would that thing – or person – stay in his possession? No telling. Alice had a feeling it wasn’t long, though.
He could be a liar. A manipulator. A man who only cared about taking her out for a spin and dropping her back off at the dealership when he was done having his fun.
I mean, he wasn’t in a hurry to cuddle me afterward. Probably not a good sign.
She shut off the water and stole a towel from the nearest cupboard. She didn’t realize, until she was in front of the foggy mirror that she had never taken her hair down. For a woman who almost never wore it up to begin with, she had to wonder if she slipped into some alternate identity. Maybe bun-head Alice was a sultry gal who fucked domineering billionaires and went home with sore yet proud thighs. Not like down-hair Alice, who worked at places like Blue Bird and filled her virginal nights with dildos and outrageous fantasies that would never come true.
The hair came down now. There were some disposable combs in another drawer. Not the best for detangling her hair, but they would do. She was going to sleep anyway. What was the point of having perfectly kempt hair?
Alice grabbed a simple black robe hanging on the back of the door. Probably Monroe’s, since it was baggy on her. Who cared? She only intended to…
She stood in the bedroom. Stood above Monroe. He was rolled away from her, lightly snoring with his hands splayed against “her” side of the bed. The sheet was tightly wound around his waist. Nevertheless, Alice had a great view of his torso. A better view than she otherwise had so far, anyway.
Wasn’t it amazing how innocent and peaceful even a man like him could look while asleep? This was the guy who had done so many indescribable things to her already. Sure, he was hot… but who could guess that when he awoke, he would put on his tailored suit and go crush some skulls while getting a blowjob beneath the corporate conference table? Or whatever he did every day.
“I don’t know what you were doing with my son, but I can guess. It will be the last time. In my building, anyway. Now go.”
Alice went. She opened the bedroom door and stole down the hallway, hungry to gulp some fresh air.
Nobody else was on deck. As the sting of cold air hit her skin, Alice went to the starboard side, hugging the robe to her body and looking out over the wide, empty river. City lights twinkled. Planes came in for a landing, only to take off again. Most of the car lights she could see came from taxis.
“Miss?”
Alice nearly jumped out of her skin at the sound of the bodyguard’s deep voice. She grasped the railing and spun around, finding a large, muscular man dressed in all black. Where had he been a moment before? On break? Oh, God, had he heard his boss having sex with her? Nope, nope, nope!
“Sorry,” he said. “No need to be alarmed. Just checking that you’re okay. I’m making my hourly rounds.”
Alice relaxed, though she wasn’t happy to be caught in nothing but a man’s robe on deck. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine. Came out for some air.”
“If you don’t mind, I’ll go in and check on Mr. Monroe.”
“He’s asleep.”
“Even so. It’s my job.”
He thinks I killed him. Alice didn’t know why she went to such extremes right away. As the bodyguard went into the cabin, she leaned back against the railing, watching moonlit waters lap against the side of the large yacht.
She had brought her satchel out with her. Now she checked her phone, for the first time in hours, meeting a hefty amount of texts from Candice. “So how’s the date?” “Fuck ‘em again yet?” “You’re not answering, huh? You must be dead or getting dicked.” “Damn, girl, that good? Text me when you can!” “Come on, Al, at least let me know you’re okay.”
Alice replied in the affirmative.
A few seconds later, Candice wrote her back. “Good! Get some?”
“Yeah.”
“Thatta girl. How was it.”
“Pretty great. Still processing it.”
“Well, why aren’t you canoodling with your man? Wait, you’re not coming home right now, are you?”
“He fell asleep.”
“Typical. Hey, don’t forget what I told you. Get that $$$!”
Alice put her phone away. Her hand brushed against a piece of paper.
Damnit. It was that stupid list Candice sent her off with.
“Step 1. Make that man fall in love with you. Step 2. Milk him dry of everything he’s got!!! I’m talking semen and money, girl!”
Gross.
“If you’re not gonna get a baby out of him, at least get your debt paid off. Come on!”
Alice put that bullshit away. She made sure the robe was tied tightly around her before going back into the cabin. Hanging out in the hallway until the bodyguard returned, nodding to her, seemed the way to go. He yawned on his way out of the cabin.
She found Monroe right where she had left him. There’s no secret now that we had sex. Her clothes, including underwear, were still pooled on the floor by the bed. Monroe’s clothes had been neatly folded on the Victorian sofa. He hadn’t done that. Must’ve been the bodyguard. Weird.
Alice pulled the robe off her body. She stood, naked again. Cleaner than the last time she was naked in this room, but naked nonetheless.
Monroe only slightly shifted when she climbed into bed, pulling back the silk sheets. The movement brought the sheets down over Monroe’s hips. Huh. So that’s what it looks like soft. Not nearly as impressive as when it was hard. Oh well. Better than the alternative?
What should she do? Get in bed? Or was this a man who was used to having women wake him up with kisses and… kisses? Would he be all over her kissing a trail down his stomach? How about on his cock? No. Alice would pass for now. He would have to be happy – or unhappy – with her snuggling up next to him.
To her surprise, his eyes snapped open the moment their noses were only inches apart.
“Enjoy your shower?” he asked.
Alice readjusted the pillow beneath her head. His arm slipped across her side, hand protectively, possessively resting atop her ass.
“Yeah.”
He pushed himself up on his elbow, sleepy eyes gazing upon her. “My bodyguard came in here while you were gone. I got excited, thinking it was you.”
“Really?”
“Alice…” He caressed her cheek. The gesture was almost enough to lull her into the falsest sense of security. “I don’t bring women back to my residences unless I want them hanging around. I was starting to miss you.”
“Didn’t think you would mind if I stole away for a while. You were sleeping pretty good.”
“The most elusive state.” His fingers lingered on her skin. “Now do me a favor and enjoy it with me.”
Alice giggled. “That’s the fanciest way a guy has ever asked me to sleep with him.” Well, she didn’t lie.
He pulled her against his chest, her nose brushing against his shoulder. Nails softly drew up and down her curving back. That gave her more shivers than anything else.
Something curdled in her chest. Cur
dled? More like exploded. Perhaps whatever it was… maybe it was her gross cynicism she had amassed since becoming a grown woman. The woman who was bitter about being rejected multiple times by love. The woman who didn’t believe in love at first sight or engaging fairy tales coming true. The woman who heard another pair of friends was getting married and wondered how long until the divorce happened.
All that was left was the young woman who wanted to desperately believe in love. It didn’t matter with whom. The boy next door. A guy in her class. The cute new waiter where she worked. Prince Charming himself.
This rush expanded through her. Alice’s body settled nicely into Monroe’s sideways embrace, his scent no longer overpowering. If anything, it was the most reassuring thing in the world.
I barely know this man. He barely knew her, but claimed a surge of signs had appeared, beckoning him to her more than once. This was a guy who had to follow his gut as well as his head. If his gut told him that Alice was “the one” with a single look, then how long was it until his head finally agreed?
Sometimes it was worth believing in fairy tales. Sometimes it was worth injecting a hefty dose of realism into them… as long as said realism contributed something of worth.
“Damon,” Alice began. “I haven’t told you this before, but,” she paused, his demeanor encouraging her to continue, “I was a virgin when you met me.”
While no shadows overcame his face, his countenance still changed. At first he was pensive, as if what she said took him back to some bygone day. Then he was as neutral as the white sheets beneath them.
“Well, it’s been a while.”
“Since what?” Alice was comfortable enough in his hold, but it was a precarious comfort. He could say or do anything at any moment and completely change the tension between them.
He murmured against her forehead. “Since I claimed a woman’s virginity.”
Alice sank against his pillow, his naked body wrapping tight around hers. It wasn’t sexual, but it was primitive. That kind of possessive nature that told a man he was the only one to touch a woman. A woman that beguiled him as much as Alice did? The shivers now wracking her body felt like they were from another planet. Or at least another time period.
“I never would have guessed, for what it’s worth.”
Wasn’t worth anything. “Thanks, I suppose. That’s not the point, though.” Ha. Yeah, it was. Alice was so preoccupied with not having him treat her differently in bed that such a truth was never allowed to be spoken. Well, it was out now. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you.”
He silenced her with a kiss. “Let no worries into that flirtatious heart of yours, my love.” His fingertip tucked some of her hair behind her ear. “All you’ve done is told me that we now share something extra… fortuitous, shall we say. I also now know that, should we continue down this path, I’ll have to take into account your inexperience. It’s not a bad thing. Perhaps it will mean we will enjoy ourselves even more.”
Monroe kissed her again, pushing her deeper into the bed as his hands explored more of her body. While they did not make love again that night, Alice still felt as if she plucked another piece of her heart out of her chest and handed it to him on a silver platter. Not that silver platters were a rarity in his life. If anything, he had his pick of them. What made hers so special?
The mere fact that it came from her?
How long did it take her to start kissing him back? How long did she wait until folding her leg over his, enticing him to love on her with no walls built between them?
Not very long at all.
Chapter 14
The best part about being a billionaire’s girlfriend? The amount of spoiling Alice received even when they weren’t together. Not one day after parting ways from Monroe, Alice was opening the apartment door to a delivery of three dozen fresh roses. Two hours later? German chocolates, complete with cream filling.
The worst part was being apart.
It still felt like a dream. Alice spent the rest of her weekend thinking of Monroe. Not only his scent and the sound of his voice, but the way his presence felt whenever they were in the same room. His arms around her. Both of them naked, in bed, those kisses so tender and heartfelt. Alice didn’t share her pining with her roommate. Candice would only give her crap. Alice wasn’t supposed to actually be falling in love with Damon Monroe. Didn’t she know that she was nothing more than a summer fling? A man like that may claim to love her now, but no man worth his limo confessed to loving a common girl like Alice after one date and three occasions with his dick in her.
“When can I see you again?” she texted him at the end of the second day. When Monroe gave her his personal number in confidence, he made it clear that he may not be able to respond right away. Alice also didn’t want to look desperate. So she waited until the end of her weekend, when sunlight streamed through the living room window and she sat beside her huge bouquet of roses. Each one smelled more delightful than the last. “I miss you.” She stared at that text for a long time before sending it.
What she didn’t expect was to hear back from him within ten minutes.
“Soon, I hope. I’m currently in Detroit for business. When I get back, I have every intention of enjoying my spare time with you.”
Unfortunately, she didn’t hear anything else from him that day.
She did, however, have a nasty surprise come storming through the door after Candice got off work.
“Girl!” she cried, sprinting over to Alice with a tabloid. “You’re in the fucking press!”
“What?” Alice stepped out of the kitchen where she had been preparing dinner.
“The press, girl!” Candice slapped the paper onto the island counter. “Look!”
Alice flipped open the paper and looked right at a picture of Monroe.
And her.
It was from the fundraiser. Paparazzi photos of her exiting the Magistrate’s Ballroom, Monroe’s arm clasped around her, decorated a whole spread on the third page. The headline read “Romance Eschewer Damon Monroe Seen With Unknown Woman At Fundraiser.” The caption wasn’t much better. “Damon Monroe, the billionaire who has his pick of women but is rarely seen with them, exits the Magistrate’s Ballroom with a pretty blonde. Who is she? Our sources don’t know!” Someone implied that she might be a model, so that was something.
“The pics are all over the internet, too.” Candice held up her phone. “I gotta warn you, though. They’re not the most flattering ones I’ve ever seen. Your eyes are like only half open in most of them.”
Alice was barely listening. She sat down at the kitchen table and stared at the collage of her and Monroe getting into his limo. The way he touched her, leaned in toward her, ignored the other people around them… it was clear, even to her eyes, that they were a romantic item as opposed to conveniently traveling together.
“You think people are gonna figure out who I am and start hounding me?”
“I have no idea. You should talk to the security guy downstairs about it.”
Pfft. Yeah right. The “security guy” was some college kid with a night job. If the press showed up at their building… so long, folks.
Until now, Alice operated under the assumption that her relationship with Monroe was private. After all, he was an intensely private person. How many tabloid spreads showed up of him again? Probably not many. Now I’m involved.
Susan and Sid had found out at The Dark Hour. Candice was quick to know as well. Scott at Blue Bird had to figure something was going on, but he was probably as knowledgeable about Damon Monroe as Alice used to be. Now? Anyone who gave the slightest damn was all over it. How many would demonize her for dating one of the most eligible bachelors in America? It’s hard for me to think of him that way. He was damn hot, yes, but so were other men. As rich as him? Not really.
Alice was in a daze the rest of the night. She took a bath and went to bed thinking of Monroe. I want to hear his voice. Should she call him? Or would that be pushing boundarie
s they had barely established? No. He was probably busy. Alice had to go to bed early for a morning and afternoon shift at Blue Bird, but Monroe rarely had such luxuries. Sleep was elusive to him. So, what was he doing right now?
Alice dragged her phone across her pillow and texted him.
“Are you asleep?”
She never received a reply. Either he was asleep or he busied himself with important matters in Detroit. I hope they’re going well for him. Sighing, Alice rolled over and forced herself to sleep. She needed to be alert for work in the morning. Time to make her own money.
Not before spending the next few hours imagining he was there with her, though. She wanted to believe that a man accustomed to his usual finery wouldn’t mind slumming it in a queen-sized bed bedecked in a homemade comforter and a pillowcase that hadn’t been washed in weeks.
God. I’m infatuated. I need to get my shit together. The only thing worse than being infatuated was being in love. That sounded straight up dangerous.
***
“Hey, Alice,” Rochelle, the second hostess, said. “You with the program over here? Because we’ve got about three parties waiting to be seated.”
Alice looked up from the podium, face to face with three families and one ragged hostess.
“Oh!” Caught in her daydreams again, huh? I’m going to get fired at this rate. As nice as it would be to get lost in her memories and future fantasies of Monroe, Alice had to stay practical. Somehow. Right now, anyway.
“So sorry about that.” She pasted on the fakest smile she could muster, grabbing four menus before gesturing to the nearest family. “The James party?”
The stout woman in front nodded. “We’ve been waiting fifteen minutes.”
“Uh…” Alice struggled with that smile. “Again, my apologies.” I’ve been hanging out with Monroe too long. Starting to talk like him. “Right this way.”
