The Billionaire's Betrayal (Highest Bidder Book 3)

by Carmen Falcone

  “Madam? He’s here,” Jackie announced, popping her head into the room.

  Brooks Taylor entered the room, a small smile forming on his lips. Her stomach fluttered, her heart throbbing in all her pulse points. She’d never perceived her office as compact, but his presence dwarfed the space. Well more than six feet and with broad shoulders that stretched every bit of his short-sleeved shirt, Brooks epitomized a modern day Adonis. When he smiled, his eyes creased a little, and wrinkles formed on his tanned face—a bit weathered, giving him that added charm factor. How old was he? Early or mid-thirties?

  “Howdy,” he said, in his unmistakable Texan accent.

  His baritone was deep, sexy, and had the power to squeeze her insides. “Have a seat.” She gestured to him, internally demanding her girl parts behave.

  He walked up to the chair across from her, sat on it with the same ease as their first meeting, like he owned the place. “What’s your answer, Alexa?”

  She squared her shoulders. “I want sixty percent. I have a lot of leverage and know the ropes. For all I know, you may be some rich man with daddy issues who’s bored and wants to drag your family’s name through the mud.” The online research had pointed at his upbringing in an old money, traditional Texan family.

  “Seems like you know me already.”

  “Therefore, sixty percent or no deal.”

  He stood and then paced her office, restless, his body betraying the casual confidence his face displayed. “All right. Sixty percent it is.”

  She crossed one leg over the other, shifting in her seat. Should she stand, like him? She didn’t want to give him the upper hand, but standing close to him meant pushing in the scent of spicy, manly notes of wood and bamboo. Meant dealing with his proximity and denying all the signs her body threw at her with the subtlety of a cannon. “We need to discuss logistics. Where do you think we’ll find a virgin male over the age of eighteen?”

  “I own farms all over Texas, sweetheart,” he drawled. “Talk to foremen all the time. I can find a couple of church-going, strapping young men who haven’t done the deed yet.”

  “I’m not a sweetheart,” she said, annoyed at how her blood went on a low simmer. “Nevertheless, I have to agree to the choice. If anything, my opinion weighs more than yours. I’m a woman and know what women want.”

  “And I’m a man. And know a thing or two about pleasing women,” he said, and even though his voice sounded casual, his stare pinned her to the spot. She sucked in a breath and reached for her stress ball, squeezing it until her knuckles whitened.

  “I’ll take that into consideration. I have a packed schedule with the selection process of my weekly auctions…but I can trust my assistant to step up while we look for the right guy for the job,” she said, flicking on her screen.

  He scratched his chin. “Good. I was thinking…a month.”

  “A month?” She laughed. “That’s hardly enough time to create buzz, and how on earth are we supposed to find the right man and the potential female buyers—”

  He winked at her. “Don’t worry about the women.”

  She tapped her fingers on her keyboard. If Brooks thought he’d just breeze through logistics, he had another think coming. “Well, it’s my job to worry. I’ll have you know, Mr. Taylor, I take what I do very seriously. So if you think you can snap your fingers and I’ll agree with whatever, you’re wrong.”

  A spark lit in his cocoa-colored eyes. “Wouldn’t expect that from you.”

  She pushed her keyboard aside. Before penciling down dates, she needed to make sure he understood what was involved. “Is there a reason why you have this ridiculous timeframe?”

  He walked around, scanning the board where she kept thank-you notes from her previous auctionees along with a couple newspaper articles about her which she’d framed on the wall. “I want to act on this idea before someone else does. You’re naive if you think you don’t have competition. I know of a couple of other madams in Nevada that could use quick cash, and each day we don’t do it, it’s a day they can.”

  “Why didn’t you go to them? Why me?”

  “Because you’re the best,” he said smoothly.

  She narrowed her eyes. Maybe he had visited the other madams and they turned him down. Why would anyone turn down his offer, though? Apprehension clawed its way down her throat, and for the first time she felt afraid of losing his offer. Afraid of not seeing him again. “You’re a flatterer, Mr. Taylor.”

  “One of my many qualities.”

  Restless, she got to her feet, walked around her desk, and leaned on it. Even with her heels on, as he stepped in her direction, he only got bigger and taller. “I’ll see what I can do. For this idea to work, we need the perfect candidate.”

  “Yep. Must be a guy willing to learn.” He took one step closer, sliding his gaze from her eyes to her lips. A shiver worked its way down her spine and she stepped back, her ass pressing into the edge of the desk. “A woman’s body is like an amusement park. A lot of young Turks take the fast pass to skip the line and get to the ride quicker, but not me…I enjoy the wait. Makes for a more interesting ride,” he said, his voice dropping an octave.

  A flush of desire traveled through her. She sucked in her breath. Her breasts rose, and she cursed herself for not moving away from him—for not wanting to. “Fast passes can be wild and fun.”

  “They don’t last long enough,” he said, lowering his head.

  She stared up at him. Her common sense warned her against him, but for the first time in as long as she could remember, she ignored it. Ripples of excitement washed over her. “Neither do you, probably,” she said in a voice so low, he had to inch even closer to listen.

  A sharp breath escaped through his teeth, like he was trying to keep it together. “That’s where you’re wrong, darlin’. But I can’t show you because—”

  She shoved her hands to his chest, to push him away, but the second she felt his hard muscles, warmth blazed through the fabric, branding her palms and gluing her to him. Damn. A body like this could land her in the kind of hot mess she’d stayed away from. “I’m not your type,” she said.

  “Exactly,” he snapped, staring deep into her eyes.

  Her sex clenched, cream coating her walls. Her heart thumped in her ears. “I guess I’m lucky I’m not some naive blonde with smalls tits and—”

  He caught her lips in his, and a volcanic explosion surged through her veins. She opened her mouth, and he thrust his tongue inside, sending little shocks of awareness down her body. She should push him away, but if she was going to let desire rule her, at least it involved the sexiest man she’d ever seen. She’d chastise herself later—now, she’d enjoy the ride. A moan formed in her throat, but he swallowed it.

  Fuck. He grazed her bottom lip, and this time, her moan made it past her mouth, barely, and she didn’t recognize the loud, sexy sound echoing in the air. He growled, lifting her up onto the desk, and she wrapped her legs around his torso. Holy fuck. She burned for him, the ravaging fire melting her bones against all common sense.

  He pushed her G-string aside and slipped in two fingers. “You’re so wet.”

  She squirmed, and he shamelessly rubbed her sex onto his fingers until he began thrusting them in and out of her. This wasn’t about long and languid. He was obviously using the opportunity to show her how he could melt her icy exterior within minutes. Her pride poked at her, wanting to retaliate, but she couldn’t find the strength to stop either of them. She didn’t want to.

  He rolled his finger over her clit. The man knew how to work her bud without any tips from her… He flicked it, then squeezed her flesh a little, causing ripples of ecstasy, then he continued touching. Exploring. Claiming.

  He leaned down and hooked her right leg over his shoulder. She touched his head, searching for balance. When he dipped lower and pushed her panties farther down, she gasped.
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  He was going to eat her out…and she couldn’t wait. The friction of her bunched G-string biting into her thighs only added to the whirlwind of sensations. Her nipples tightened so hard, she felt the blood stirring behind her breasts. Every part of her was alive and vibrant.

  She whimpered.

  He slipped his tongue between her naughty lips, licking every inch of her pearly cream, causing her to produce more. She bucked into him, her hips undulating in a sensual dance.

  She heard a hearty hhhhmmmm from below, his manly way to show he enjoyed devouring her pussy.

  “Such a tight delicious pussy. I’ll have a good time giving it the hard fucking it deserves,” he said, nipping her thigh then returning to feasting on her like an inmate dining on his last meal.

  His words ignited a flame in her core she had no idea how to extinguish. He thrust his tongue into her sex, his nose pressing against her clit. He licked her violently, from the top of her cunt to the back, where her thighs met her ass. She clenched her thighs, and he responded by nudging them open and once again sliding his tongue almost close to her back hole.

  Warmth spread across her cheeks. “Brooks.”

  He growled. “I’m tasting all of you, sweetheart. I’m licking all the places I’ll be slamming my cock into.”

  She moaned. He intensified the flicks of her clit and continued his naughty tease. Every time he traced the outline of her folds with the masterful tip of his tongue, he glided lower. And lower, until he was inserting his tongue into her asshole.

  A cloud of arousal engulfed her, dotting her vision. “Fuck… Brooks…”

  He thrust his tongue into her hole, making other hhhmmm sounds of approval. She curled her hips, loving how he teased her, working her clit, each time taking one step closer to rapture.

  “Damn, Madam…every part of you tastes so damn good. Can’t wait for you to sit on my face so we can do this for hours. You coming on me. And me, taking every single drop. Eating your pink pussy and sexy ass,” he said, his voice coarse and his accent more pronounced.

  “God,” she ripped the word from her lungs. Sweat slicked her brows, and she closed her eyes, unable to keep up with his dirty invasion of both her holes. Sounds of his digits fucking her pussy added to her ragged breath. He teased her hole, nipping her thigh, only to return to it with ravenous hunger.

  Pressure coiled in her cunt, growing more powerful. Through her closed lids, abstract shapes and bright colors collided, and she shoved herself on his face, to his command, one last time. Pleasure rocketed through her, stirring her completely, her heart slamming in her chest.

  A beat later, her limbs felt weak like she was a superhero who’d lost her power. Reality slowly returned, like she adjusted the focus lenses of a vintage camera. She propped herself on her elbows, adjusting herself until she sat on her desk. “You need to go,” she said, wishing her voice had come out more commanding.

  He stood, licking the corner of his lips, gazing at her intensely. “We’re just getting started, sweetheart.”

  She slid down from the desk and quickly dashed around it to put a safe distance between them. The pulse behind her knees still raced, her legs trembling. “I… Look. This got out of hand. My bad. Let’s move on.” She threaded her fingers together, contracting her stomach. Hell, she couldn’t explain her behavior even to herself. Sure, she hadn’t had sex with a man in years, but she owned a couple of vibrators that she used regularly.

  He peered at her, and for a moment his face hardened, but a beat later he shook his head and rested his hand on his belt. “All right. We’ll go with that for now. I’ll talk to the few young bucks I have in mind and be sure to forward any developments to you.”

  “No. I want to talk to them. I thought we went over this already.” Did he think she’d just take a back seat and let him run the show?

  “That’s right.” He ran his fingers through his hair. “I got distracted. So if you want to be involved in every single stage of this operation, you’ll need to come to Texas with me. That’s where the potential auctionees are.”

  She glanced around her office, his words registering in her brain. Bringing those men to Las Vegas for interview could be more troublesome—they could find leverage by being in a place with other opportunities for auctions. Besides, seeing them in their natural habitat would be particularly inspiring. If they found the one, they could offer him an ironclad contract on the spot and secure the deal.

  He threw his hands in the air. “I’d hate to inconvenience you, Madam.”

  She waved him off. This was about business, and refusing to go to Texas meant Brooks Taylor had already messed with her head. And that she wouldn’t allow. “Oh, it’s no inconvenience. I’ll fly to Texas.”

  “Great. I need to go back today to deal with some pressing issues, but otherwise my jet will be at your service,” he said in that rich, deep twang that quickened her pulse. “And so will I, Madam.”

  Chapter Two

  “Is she here yet?” Brooks asked, popping his head into the kitchen.

  Gina, his loyal sixty-year-old housekeeper, closed the dishwasher and turned to him. She leaned against the countertop, folding her arms and tossing him a smartass look. “Nope, boss. Do I hear wedding bells? You don’t usually bring women to this ranch. Even Miss Adelaide didn’t come often,” she said, reminding him of the last woman he’d dated.

  Wedding bells… What a crazy idea. He snorted. Marrying someone like Alexa would be social and professional suicide. It was one thing to do business with her, in such a way he could call it an isolated incident. A bad decision. Another thing would be to bring her to his life permanently—not that it’d ever happen. He could never marry someone with such an occupation.

  He grabbed his mug and slid it under the coffee machine. The more he traveled to other properties, the less Gina felt compelled to do when he was home. Not that he’d ever let her go. She’d been working for him for twelve years, and though she was now way too comfortable, she did a great job maintaining his home. “No bells of any kind. It’s a complicated story. Remember what I said.”

  “I won’t mention Pamela to your lady friend. I removed any pictures of her and hid them in your closet.”

  He sipped some black coffee, the hot liquid rolling down his throat. “Good.”

  Gina tilted her head in his direction. He refused her silent demand for an explanation. He trusted her, but he couldn’t risk compromising his goal. The less people knew about his plan, the better. Until he had concrete proof, he didn’t want the story to become public—why give his ailing mother a load of concern without good reason?

  “Is she pretty?”

  He finished his coffee, then sat it on the table. Pretty didn’t begin to describe Alexa. A flush of desire traveled through him. “She’s…intriguing.”

  A spark lit Gina’s brown eyes. “Hmmm… That’s more promising than pretty. I can’t wait to meet her.”

  He left the kitchen, avoiding any further conversation about Alexa.

  He entered the large living area, glancing at Duke, his four-year-old black Labrador who snoozed on the sectional couch. His first strategy certainly hadn’t entailed bringing Alexa to the home where he spent most of his time. But after he’d kissed her and she’d melted in his arms, he’d changed his plan. Rather than keep things professional and hope she’d trust him as a partner, why not also add a personal touch?

  If she knew him better and trusted him, he’d be one step closer to finding out what had happened to Pamela—and bringing her justice. He’d make the culprit pay, even if that meant Alexa going to prison.

  He cleared his throat, the knot pulsing. Memories of their make-out session populated in his mind, and his body went rigid. Damn. Sleeping with her sure would be no sacrifice. He licked his lips, missing the taste of her sweet pussy.

  If she hadn’t stopped him, he’d have fucked her in her offic
e. Hard. Deep.

  The sound of a car approaching the property yanked him from his thoughts. Buck up, man. He had to keep his head in the game. Sleeping with Alexa would be a means to an end—enjoying her was a bonus. But he couldn’t for one minute forget who she really was. How many lives she’d probably wrecked with this glorified human trafficking stint she called an auction.

  Startled, Duke jumped off the couch, barking his way to the entrance.

  Running his fingers through his hair, Brooks followed the dog, whose insistent barks were echoing in the marbled foyer. When he opened the door, his heart came to a halt. Without the glamorous dress, Alexa was even more intriguing.

  A gray sweater and some tight denim jeans covered her, and tall boots completed her look. He half expected her to show up in one of those dresses with long slits that would give any man within miles automatic boners. But no, she’d actually come looking appropriate for staying at his beloved ranch.

  “Welcome to Texas, Madam,” he drawled. “Hope our quiet nights won’t bore you.” He gestured for her to enter. The driver who had picked her up waved from the vehicle, signaling he’d bring her suitcase.

  She walked in with a hint of a smile on her face, carrying a designer bag large enough to fit a family of squirrels.

  Duke jumped on her, wagging his tail, and she stepped back, blinking.

  Quickly, he grabbed the dog’s collar and pushed him outside, closing the door behind them. “Excuse Duke. I hired trainers, but he still can’t resist jumping on pretty women.”

  She studied the decor, glancing at the art on the walls and the accent pieces with a Southwestern flair he’d bought from a prominent new artist. A country living decoration magazine had begged him to feature his home in their issue once, but he’d denied the offer. “I’m familiar with the type. That’s why I always have pepper spray with me.”

  “Duke won’t need that.”

  She lifted her eyebrow. “I wasn’t talking about the dog.”