She gently freed his cock from his underwear, and he stepped out of his underwear. They stood under the shower, running their hands over the other’s bodies as they kissed. Greer stroked his cock against her belly as she grinned up at him, the water creating little drops on her long eyelashes. “Dale Fortuna, do you know how long I’ve wanted to do this?”
Dale slipped his hand between her legs and heard her little gasp as his fingers found her clit. He teased it until it was rock-hard, then shut off the shower and swept her up into his arms. Not caring that they were soaking wet, he carried her into the bedroom and laid her on the bed, covering her body with his. Greer wrapped her legs around his waist, and then he was sliding into her, sighing at the feel of her silky cunt on his pulsating cock.
“God, Greer …”
She clung to him as they made love slowly, kissing each other deeply and passionately. Greer moaned as he increased his pace, pinned her hands to the bed, and gazed down at her. Their bodies seemed to fit together perfectly as they moved, and when Greer came, her back arched up, her belly pressed against his, and her face flushed scarlet from pleasure. Dale felt himself pumping thick, creamy semen deep inside her and heard her sigh of release.
“God, Dale …that was incredible.” Greer kissed him, and he was astonished to see tears in her eyes. He smoothed her damp hair away from her face.
“Hey, hey, are you okay?”
“More than,” she whispered. “More than, okay. I’ve never felt like this before. Never.”
For a moment, Dale processed what she said and something in her eyes told him that what she had said held a greater significance than at first was obvious. “Greer …darling, beautiful Greer …you weren’t, I mean, you must have …”
Looking so young and vulnerable, she shook her head. “I was a virgin, Dale. Well, kind of. I’ve never had sex …voluntarily.”
The realization came crashing down on Dale and he felt himself get choked up. “Oh my god, Greer …I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry, baby.” He gathered her to him, but she didn’t cry, just snuggling further into his arms.
“It was a long time ago, when I was a kid. A friend of my dad’s. To my dad’s credit, he believed me when I told him, got the police involved, and the guy went away. I had therapy—a lot of it—but I knew that, even though rape isn’t sex, it’s violence, that I would wait until I was sure about someone.” She looked up at him, her eyes shining now. “I was right to wait.”
Dale couldn’t believe it—this gorgeous, sexy superstar had been a virgin. He felt so responsible and yet so honored, and he told her so.
Greer kissed him. “I knew the evening after the Golden Globes when we sat up all night talking. I’d known you a week, and yet it felt like the part of me that was missing was now complete. I don’t mean to put any pressure on you, Dale. That’s not what this is. If you just want to stay friends with benefits, I can live with that.”
Dale gazed at her. “No, that’s not what I want,” he said carefully, “I want you. I'm wary just because I want you to be sure. We’ll go stay with Padme and Enver’s for a few weeks, and we’ll have time to see if we can make this work.”
Greer nodded. “I know. I feel like we’ve been given this time to work it out. If it doesn’t, just promise me we’ll part as friends.”
“I promise.”
Greer ran her hands all over his body and smiled up at him. “In the meantime …”
And they began to make love again.
Padme Toscano threw her arms around Dale and hugged him hard. Dale laughed. “It’s only been a few weeks, Pad. You would think you hadn’t seen me for years.”
“Shut up and take the loving,” Padma grumbled, then laughed, releasing him. She smiled at Greer. “It’s so lovely to meet you, Greer. Welcome to our home.”
She hugged Greer, who warmed to the lovely young woman immediately. Padme’s handsome husband, Enver, greeted them both, shaking Greer’s hand and punching Dale’s shoulder. “Your godchildren are dying to see you,” he said in a deliciously sexy Italian accent.
Dale grinned. “Where are they?”
“We keep them in a cage inside,” Enver said, his voice deadpanned, then grinned. “Nah, they’re having lunch. We thought we’d feed them before us adults ate. Then they can nap and we can eat in peace.”
Greer followed the couple—who held hands adorably—inside their beautiful, sprawling farmhouse. Dale had been right—the sense of peace here was palpable.
She heard the waves crashing against the rocks, the sun was pelting down even in February, and a cool breeze sending the scent of the sea and fresh air racing through her senses.
Inside, she saw Dale pick up one of two adorable twins, not older than two years old, her dark curls wild about her heads. Dale rocked the little girl in his arms, and she giggled at him. “This is Phoebe,” he told Greer, who couldn’t help stroking the little girl’s chubby cheek. Phoebe grabbed Greer’s finger and immediately stuck it in her mouth.
“Pheebs,” her mother said, exasperated. “Try not to eat our guests. Sorry,” she grinned at Greer. “She has an oral fixation at the moment. Lucio, as you can see, is the quiet one.” Padme hoisted her son from his playpen and handed him to Greer.
Greer cradled the little boy, who stared up at her with serious green eyes. Something melted in Greer’s heart. She smiled at Padme. “He’s beautiful. They’re both so gorgeous.”
Padme beamed, but Enver rolled his eyes. “They’re monsters. You wait until they start fighting—it’s a bloodbath.”
They all laughed. Greer already felt so at home with Dale’s friends. They were so warm and inviting. A little while later, Padme showed Greer to her room.
“I wasn’t sure if …” Padme left the sentence hanging, but Greer caught her meaning and smiled shyly.
“Maybe …but I wouldn’t want Dale to feel suffocated, you know? This is best.”
Padme grinned, obviously delighted. “Well, our room is on the other side of the house, and so is the kid’s room, so whatever goes on over here will be private.”
Greer smiled at her gratefully. “Can I ask you something?”
“Fire away.”
“Dale has told me a little of your history—I mean before you met Enver and after. How come you and Dale never …?”
Padme shrugged, not offended by the question. “I think because we almost fell into the role of siblings from the start. Neither of us had any family, so to speak, and we just clicked. We have the same sense of humor and the same values. It was never even a consideration that it would be more. It was what it was. Apart from Enver, he’s my best friend.” She smiled at Greer. “And being his best friend, I know when he’s crazy about someone.”
“It’s very new, and I mean very. We didn’t plan it. It just seemed so natural to be with each other. Being with him is like breathing pure oxygen.”
Padme smiled. “You’re very sweet. Come on, let’s go eat. Enver’s been cooking, which, believe me, is a lot better than when I do.”
Dale took Greer’s hand and they wandered along the cliff edge. Italy had been their home for two weeks now, and Greer could not imagine going back to America and to her old public life. She and Dale had fit into Padme and Enver’s home so naturally that even Dale had expressed surprise.
“You’re family now,” he murmured to Greer one night as they made love in his bedroom. Being with him was so easy, Greer thought. There were no expectations, no conditions, and no lack of trust. She envied the life Padme and Enver had here—solitude without isolation, with no managers or publicists or studios to interfere.
She and Dale sat in the long grass at the cliff edge and Dale smiled at her. “You look like you’re about to tell me something momentous,” he smiled. “So go right ahead.”
Greer hesitated for a long moment. “Okay, here goes. I don’t want to go back. I don’t want that life anymore. I need something more ...fulfilling. A job where I’m not the center of attention and where I can do some good. I le
ft college with a pretty good GPA, so I could retrain as anything.”
Dale nodded, stroking her hair back behind her ears. “Sure you’re not just having vacation dreams? I’m playing devil’s advocate here. It’s a lot to give up.”
Greer nodded. “It is. Dale …whatever I do, I want to be with you, but that’s not me putting any pressure on you, I swear. I just have to figure out what my life should be. I’m so sick of Hollywood—it was never what I wanted to do. Hell, even at college, I just took a business course because it would have been useful in any number of fields. Trouble is …I’m not sure what my dreams were when I was a kid. What I could have been.”
“Apart from fat, crazy dog lady.”
Greer laughed. “Apart from that.”
Dale studied her. “You don’t have to make any decisions now, you know. Take your time. Figure it out. There are plenty of ex-actors and actresses who have gone onto to do other things—things out of the spotlight. You just have to be sure, is all. You can do anything, Greer. Anything.”
“You think so?”
He leaned over and kissed her. “I know so, beautiful.”
One year later …
The Oscars, Los Angeles, California
Greer McNamara flushed with pleasure as her name was called out, and kissing Dale and Blair, she stood to go collect her first—and only—Academy Award. She took the gold statuette from a smiling Chiwetel Ejiofor, kissed him on the cheek, and stepped up to the microphone. She only had a few moments to say what she had to say, and as she gazed out into the audience, she only had eyes for one person.
She ran through the usual thanks to the filmmakers and cast and crew of her movie, then paused for a moment. “A year ago, my life changed immeasurably. I met the man who would show me that I could be anything or anyone I chose to be. I love you so much, Dale Fortuna. You are the reason I am standing here today. And I am standing here today to say goodbye. Helen of Troy will be my last movie.”
A murmur of shocked surprise went through the room. Greer’s face flushed. “I will always treasure the time I spent acting and performing for and with the most talented people I know. But this will not be my destiny. Thank you all for your kindness and friendship over the years. I will never forget you.”
To a standing ovation, she left the stage. Dale soon met her backstage and they kissed. He cradled her face in his hands. “Are you sure?”
She nodded, her eyes shining. “I’ve never been surer of anything, except one thing …that I am in love with the most wonderful man I have ever met.”
Dale smiled and kissed her. “I love you, Greer McNamara. Soon to be Doctor McNamara.”
Greer laughed. “Slow your roll, soldier. I have years of college before I get to call myself that.” She took his hand. “Let’s go home and celebrate, darling, in the best way we know.”
“Dirty doctor role play?” Dale looked excited, and Greer laughed, nodding.
“However you want me, baby. However you want me …”
The End.
You Belong To Me (A Billionaire Romance Story)
By Michelle Love
Mayrhofen, Austria
Dalio Corri stepped out of the taxi cab and was greeted by the doorman. “Hello again, Mr. Corri. Always a pleasure to see you.”
Dalio smiled at the man. “And you, Henry. You look healthy. I trust all is well with you?”
“Thank you, yes. Mr. Wentworth has already arrived, and I believe he is in the main conference room for the drinks reception at the moment.”
Dalio’s smile faded a little and he and Henry exchanged a knowing look.
“I think I’ll check in first, Henry.”
Henry nodded, understanding. “Very good, Mr. Corri.”
Inside the hotel, Dalio was shown to his room by a bellboy, whom he tipped generously. Dalio pulled off his jacket and went to the window. It was January and Mayrhofen was deep into its skiing season. It was even colder than usual this year, and Dario’s breath fogged up the window. He wiped it, looking down at the street beneath him. His eye was caught by a young woman, her long, dark hair a tumble of silky waves and her café-au-lait skin flushed with pink from the cold. She was making her way along the front of the hotel, her sneakers slipping and sliding on the icy road. She swayed and gripped the rail near the steps, her feet almost going out from under her. What struck Dalio, though, was she was laughing at herself trying to make it through the wintry weather as if she’d never experienced it before. Her smile lit up her beautiful face, and Dalio felt a pull in his groin. Oh, to have a woman like that, who didn’t take herself too seriously. He sighed, turning away from the window, and decided to take a hot shower.
Dalio Corri was considered one of the world’s most eligible bachelors. At thirty-seven, he had amassed a billion-dollar fortune and his dark Italian looks had garnered him much attention from beautiful women everywhere. But Dalio was a shy man when it came to relationships, and he had been burned one too many times by women who were just interested in his money. He was a provincial boy from Southern Italy, close to his family, and when the actresses and models who swarmed him discovered he liked a simple life despite his wealth and was a workaholic they got bored and drifted away.
His company, Wentworth Corri, was the biggest ad agency in the world. His business partner, Carter Wentworth, a trust fund baby from the Hamptons, had once been his best friend, but over the past five years, he’d become obsessed with making money. He was in it for the fame rather than the challenge and had become lazy and arrogant to the point where Dalio was now seriously considering dissolving their partnership. It had been a painful day when Dalio had realized that he no longer recognized his friend and that Carter was only keeping Dalio around to take advantage of Dalio’s talent.
Dalio’s father had warned him. “He will turn on you one day—the day you stop being useful to him. The day you outshine him, Dalio, and you will outshine him. There’s no keeping talent like yours down.”
That day had come a few months back when Carter and Dalio had gone at it in front of some clients. Dalio had been presenting the preliminary plans for an ad campaign that he was sure would send his client’s business into the stratosphere, but as he spoke, he had been continually interrupted by Carter, who was intent on point-scoring, rather than sharing their ideas with the client. The clients had eventually gotten tired of it and had left without giving Dario feedback or any indication that they were interested, and Dario had been mad. He had confronted Carter, who was unrepentant.
“I was just helping with the sales pitch, Dal,” he had shrugged. “You know I’m the salesman out of the two of us.”
Dalio had studied him carefully, his eyes widening. “You’re high,” he’d said incredulously. “You’re coked up to the eyeballs. Son of a bitch, what the hell do you think you’re playing at? This is our reputation at stake!”
Carter had shrugged, and Dalio had had to restrain himself from punching his partner across the room. Since then, their relationship had limped on, Dali avoiding Carter for the most part and forging relationships of his own.
And now he was here, at one of the world’s most important marketing conferences, to tell Carter that he was out. Dalio had been patient long enough—he was pulling out of the business and taking his good name with him before Carter could destroy it. He’d had his lawyers working on it for months and now was the time to present Carter with his plan. Dalio wanted out of the industry entirely. He’d already made more than enough money for a thousand lifetimes, and now he wanted to go back to Italy and disappear from public life.
He dressed in a black shirt and black pants, and with a sigh, reluctantly left the sanctuary of his room and headed downstairs to register for the conference.
Piper Le Jeune’s legs were aching from the skating show she had just endured outside in the biting cold, but she kept the smile on her face as she registered her guests for the conference. Her boss, Emeli, was next to her, handing out welcome packs. It was one of the things Piper
loved about working for Emeli—her boss wasn’t afraid to get involved and get her hands dirty.
It also helped that Emeli was funny. The tiny Frenchwoman might own a successful conference organization firm, but she never took herself too seriously. Piper grinned at her now. “Em, you really love this, don’t you? The whole organization thing? OCD?”
Emeli chuckled. “You know it. But it’s only because I know I have the best assistant that I get to do this. You realize this is our tenth conference since we started working together?”
Piper blinked in surprise. She had only been working for Emeli for a year, having graduated from college with a master’s in business just over two years ago. At twenty-six, Piper, a New Orleans native, counted herself lucky to have met Emeli. The Frenchwoman’s firm worked out of a shopfront in the French Quarter, and if Piper hadn’t stopped by on a whim one day, handing out resumes, the two might never have met. Emeli had taken one look at Piper, the tall, biracial woman with the athlete’s body, and had said in broken English, “You have an impressive resume, Ms. Le Jeune, and impressive biceps. You work out? Because, look at me—I have no upper body strength and I need someone to carry heavy boxes for me.”
She had been grinning from ear-to-ear, so Piper had known she was joking and laughed with her. She had started working for Tautou Conferences the next day. Soon she and Emeli had begun to travel the world together—Piper could anticipate everything Emeli wanted or needed and their conferences were always run on time with minimal problems.
“Our tenth? Lord, that has gone by so quickly.” She shook her head.
Emeli was studying her. “When we get back to New Orleans, Piper, we need to talk. It’s time you took the next step in our organization.”
His Sweet Torment: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance Page 15
