by Deveraux, CM
“Because he’s tired of dating models without a brain?”
“Without a brain. You assume much and know little. What is he after, really?”
“Love. Unless he’s lying about that too.”
“There. Love. The same thing you’re after. It’s possible he’s never found what he’s been looking for and decided to try something new. Maybe he’s been hurt, used by all the wrong women. You should ask him.”
Something about the way she mentioned the possibility of him being used struck me. “You know something. About him. Tell me.”
“All I’m saying is you should give the man the chance to explain.”
“Please, Veronica. If there’s something I should know, I’d rather to hear it from you.”
“Why?”
“I trust you.”
“Well,” she said, folding her napkin over her plate, “I might know one thing.”
I leaned in.
“Three years ago, Richard was engaged to a girl named Rachelle.”
“Richard and Rachelle. How perfect,” I sneered.
“Do you want to hear the story or not?”
I nodded.
“It was a whirlwind romance. He knew her only three months before he proposed.”
“What happened?”
“He received an interesting phone call.”
“From who?”
“Her husband. David.”
“Wait—what?”
“David admitted he’d married Rachelle two years earlier when she moved to Hollywood thinking she’d be the next “it” girl. The thing is her career never took off. Not really. She had two bit parts and then nothing. Everything dried up.”
“Then how’d she meet Richard?” I asked.
“Just because she wasn’t playing with the big boys didn’t mean she didn’t know how to woo one. She hung around in all the right places, spreading lies about her starring in some completely bogus movie, and more than a few men bought it.”
“It took three months for her husband to become suspicious?”
“She lied to him as well, saying she had rehearsals all night, every night for a Lifetime movie she was co-starring in. When it all came out, the press painted Rachelle as someone who had just been after Richard’s money. Of course, she denied it, swearing she’d secretly been trying to divorce David all along.”
“I imagine Richard didn’t take it very well,” I said.
“He was crushed.”
“So what’s your opinion? Was she using him?”
“In my opinion, Rachelle really was planning to divorce her husband. Later I learned the reason she hadn’t done it sooner: she feared how David would react after the divorce papers were served. He had a hot temper.”
“You would think since Richard understands how gut-wrenching it feels to be betrayed, he wouldn’t have put me through what he did.”
“He does understand. But now he also understands what it means to be cautious. Do you want to know why I think he told you his name was Tyler? He wanted to be sure you like him for him, not because he’s Richard Brannigan, billionaire.”
“I want to know more about him. What else can you tell me?”
She stood. “I think you should do some digging on your own. Call it homework.” She picked the check up off the table. “Today was exhilarating. Call me after you’ve spoken to him again.”
CHAPTER 11
It only took fifteen minutes and a speedy Internet connection for me to learn two important things about Richard Brannigan. The man was wealthy, and, at the ripe old age of thirty-one, and two years my senior, he had already retired. According to Wikipedia, his upbringing was a modest one, similar to mine. He came from a family of five. Two parents, one sister, one brother. At sixteen, a family tragedy rocked his world when he lost his older brother to a drug overdose. One year later, his parents separated then divorced. At some point Richard’s uncle, Thomas Brannigan, stepped up, taking Richard under his wing and financing his way through college.
After graduating from Harvard, Richard developed a video camera that strapped around a person’s head while engaged in a sport like skiing or biking. The camera recorded all the action firsthand from multiple angles. It was a hit with athletes in a variety of fields. And he didn’t stop there. A year later he invested the money he’d earned into a product he called Swipe. With Swipe, a business could charge someone’s credit card from their computer, tablet or phone. A few short years of stellar sales later, and he sold the company, making Forbes’ list of the world’s youngest billionaires under forty.
No wonder Veronica knew who he was.
I took out my phone and sent him a text: I’m ready to talk.
CHAPTER 12
Date One Point Five: Go ahead Richard, I’m listening.
I decided to call this Date One Point Five instead of Date Two because, in my mind, it wasn’t a date. It was more of a “you tell me yours, I’ll tell you mine” sort of thing, wherein I hoped for a little honesty. Richard asked if we could meet at the park. I didn’t know what to expect so I decided to go with a casual look, slipping on a pair of skinny jeans, a fitted T-shirt, and navy, peep-toe heels.
I almost made it to my car when I received another text: Change of plans. Do you own a bikini? Why yes, I did—a recently purchased hot-pink and black polka-dot bikini. I changed and made my way to the new destination—Lake Mead.
Forty minutes later, I caught a glimpse of Richard standing inside one of the sexiest boats I’d ever seen. In nothing but a pair of blue and white board shorts, his muscular frame glistened in the afternoon sun, giving him the appearance like he’d been oiled down.
“Permission to come aboard?” I teased.
He snatched me by the waist, lifting me beside him. He leaned in, kissing me, his soft lips blending perfectly with mine. “I’ve been waiting to do that all day.” He slid a finger beneath the rim of my swimsuit cover-up, brushing across my skin beneath. “I don’t think you’ll be needing this any longer.”
“I thought we were going to—”
“Talk first?” He smiled. “We will.”
His eyes showed yearning as they drifted from my face to the gold, beaded tassels on my see-through cover-up. Earlier I’d tied it seven times before I mastered the effect I was going for—cleavage. Not too much, but enough to hint to what I had beneath.
“On second thought,” he said, “you better keep that on. For now. I get the feeling what’s under there will be too distracting.”
He stuck a key into the slot, and the boat chugged to life. “Hang on.”
We launched forward. I gripped the railing, not expecting to pick up speed so quickly.
“Where are we going?” I asked.
“Anywhere you want.”
Standing a couple feet behind him, staring at his tan, rock-hard backside, I envisioned him ravaging me right there in broad daylight. I moved forward, standing next to him.
He smiled. “You been on this lake before?”
“Yeah,” I replied.
“Any place in particular you’d like to go?”
I shrugged. “You decide.”
He revved the engine again, killing the motor a few minutes later, allowing us to drift.
“Thirsty?” He lifted the top off a grey cooler. “Water, soda, wine?”
“You have wine in there?”
He winked. “Always.”
He uncorked the bottle, filled a plastic cup, and handed it to me. Classy. He poured himself a Solo cup of rum and Coke.
“What, no water today?” I joked.
“Nope.” He held his cup in front of me. “To new beginnings.”
I tapped my cup on his and winked. “To honesty.”
We sat next to each another.
“Do you believe my name is Richard now?”
I swallowed a savory mouthful of wine and nodded. “Why did you lie?”
Even after my conversation with Veronica, I still needed wanted to hear it from him.
�
��How much do you know about me now that you know my real identity?”
I sat up straight and owned it. “If you’re asking if I Googled, the answer is yes. I did.”
“And?”
Judging by his voice, he was a little on edge, a fact he attempted to hide by taking casual swigs of rum.
“I know a little about your family, your schooling,” I said.
“What else?”
Geez. Cut to the chase already.
“I know about your company. The one you sold.”
“Then you know what I’m worth.”
“So what,” I said. “You have money. Good for you. I may not have your kind of money, but I have enough to satisfy my lifestyle.”
He stared at me like he was trying to decide whether I meant what I just said.
“I get the feeling most girls you meet like you,” I continued. “There’s no reason why they wouldn’t. Most of the time, I imagine you feel they like your money even more. It bothers you enough to make you feel like you have to play the fake name game.”
He jiggled the ice in circles in his glass, staring into it. “I’ve been...hurt before.”
“By another girl.” I decided unless he pressed the issue further, now wasn’t the time to open old wounds. “I’m not other girls.”
“I know. I think I knew the first time I saw you.”
“Then why not tell me your name when we met, when you introduced yourself?” I asked. “Why the charade?”
“The cheap clothes, the fake name? When you care about a woman and she cares more about your bank account, you realize it’s better to protect yourself.”
“So what—you thought if you lied to me you could figure out what I was really after? You read my profile. Everything I wrote was true. Can you say the same? The email exchanges, the phone calls...I don’t know what’s real and what’s made up.”
“All of it. All of it was real. Just not the name. If I had it to do all over again, Jess, I would go about it differently with you. I never wanted to hurt you. I’ve never been as excited to meet a woman as I was to meet you. There’s something about you—you’re different.”
I gazed across the glassy water. The mesmerizing waves rippled with a gentle ebb and flow, swaying the boat back and forth to the rhythm of the tide.
Richard reached out, folding my hand between his. “I’ll never lie to you again. You have my word. I’d like to start again if you’ll let me.”
Not one to deal well with awkward moments such as this one, I stood up, unfastening the tie on my cover-up. I hoisted it over my head with the slowest of movements, allowing him a full visual of my body. I’d seen almost all of his. Why not return the favor? Once the sheer fabric had slipped all the way over my head, I tossed it to the side, discarding it on the seat next to me. I glanced in his direction, spying the beginnings of an erection rising beneath his shorts.
Too easy. I wanted him to work for it.
I leaned over the side of the boat, diving head first into the tepid water below. I stayed under as long as I could, bathing in it, allowing the cool sensation to penetrate every inch of my silky skin. When I sprung back to the surface on the other side, Richard was kneeling, his eyes fixed on the spot where I dove in.
I whistled. “Over here.”
He turned, the surprised look on his face hard to discern. I couldn’t tell whether he wanted to spank me or fuck me or both. Good. I shared his frustration.
“What?” I teased. “You thought we’d sit in the boat all day staring at each other? Where’s your sense of adventure?”
“I thought you wanted to talk.”
Apparently he was used to arduous, drawn-out conversations, the kind only a bitchy, unhappy girlfriend could provide. Good thing for him, I was more like a man in that regard.
“We did talk. I’m good. Are you?”
“Have you always been this confident?”
“Not always,” I said. “Let’s just say I found myself recently.”
He laughed. “You’re unpredictable. I’ll give you that.”
I placed my hands in front of me, forming a V, and splashed water in his direction. “You coming in?”
“Quit it.”
“Or...what?”
I pelted him again.
“You asked for it,” he warned.
Indeed.
While he dove in after me I maneuvered my way back to the other side of the boat. It was a misguided attempt to dodge him. I should have remained where I was. I felt a gentle tug on my foot. I thrashed back and forth, as much as one could in a pool of water, attempting to wiggle it free. It was to no avail. He gripped my calves with both hands, yanking me under.
When I resurfaced, he assaulted my face with an onslaught of water. I did the only thing I could do, I spun around. If he wanted to drench me, the bulk of his attack would be directed at my backside.
The liquid attack ceased.
What’s he up to now?
I could hear him closing in on me from behind, leaving me no time to escape. I squeezed my eyes shut and held my breath, fearing I was about to go under—again. Instead, he wrapped his hands around my waist, spinning me around again.
“Open your eyes, Jess,” he said.
Not sure what to expect, I lifted one eyelid half way.
“Look at me,” he demanded. “Open your eyes and keep them open.”
I did what he asked. As a reward for my compliance, his mouth enveloped mine, his teeth gently nibbling on my lower lip. He sucked the plumped flesh into his mouth, slithering it in and then out again. I’d kissed plenty of men in my day, but never like this. And never while I watched. He met my gaze with one of his own. It was raw, sensual. Freeing.
I groaned when he pulled away. His hands left my waist, his fingers like firm tentacles, exploring inside the back of my bikini bottoms. His hands pulsated as he kneaded my cold, goose-bumped flesh.
“You’re shivering,” he said. He angled his head toward the boat. “Come on. Let’s get you warmed up.”
CHAPTER 13
Richard wrapped a towel around his waist with one hand and yanked his clingy shorts from his body with the other, draping them over the side of the boat. “You may as well take your bikini off. It will dry faster.” His eyes centered on my hardened nipples.
I flipped the towel I’d just dried off with on the ground and lowered myself down, staring upward into the fading sun. “I’ll take my chances.”
I detected a look of dismay on his face. “Are you hungry?”
Hungry? Yes. Except the kind of nourishment I wanted wasn’t one food could satisfy. He refilled my wine, his finger gliding over the top of mine when he offered me the cup.
I raised myself onto my elbows, wiggling the cup back and forth in my hand. “Is this your idea of food?”
“Are you worried I’m trying to get you drunk on an empty stomach?”
“Are you?”
He unzipped a duffle bag and reached inside, handing me a Styrofoam container. “If I was, would you blame me?”
“What’s this?”
“Roast chicken. I thought we could head back to shore, make a fire, toss the food into some foil and heat it up again. I’m sure it’s cold by now.”
“When did you—”
“I stopped at Le Sueur on the way here. Like I said before, I feel bad about what I put you through last night. I shouldn’t have started things off with us off by judging you like I’ve done with other women in the past.”
Us. It had a nice ring to it.
He bent down, locking me in a single kiss.
“Three...” I mumbled. It wasn’t until after I said it that I realized I had said it aloud.
He leaned back. “What?”
I played coy, deciding to act just as shocked as he was.
“What?”
“You just said three.”
Such an idiot. Here he was trying to create a special moment between us, and all I could focus on was how I was ever going to make it to the thi
rd date without quenching my every desire.
A light breeze drifted across his body, flapping his towel open. Even in the fading sunlight, I had a clear view of his fully erect, perfectly shaped penis. Never before had I wanted a man’s cock so deep inside me.
Desperate to grope the hardness dangling between his legs, I rested the container of food and the cup beside me. I seized his towel with one sharp tug, whipping it off his body and hurdling it behind me. Then I leaned all the way back, folded my arms behind my head, and smiled, savoring the view before me.
Your play.
He knelt in front of me, allowing my visual pleasure to continue a few moments before he spoke. “You’re just full of surprises today.”
The tips of his fingers navigated their way around my back, coaxing me upward until I was on my knees before him.
“You got what you want, now what about what I want?” he asked.
“What do you want?”
“You. All of you.”
I licked my lips, brought my mouth to his ear, and whispered, “What if you can’t have me yet?”
Before he had a chance to respond, I loosely cupped my hand around the base of his shaft, gently sliding up, twisting as it reached the top. As I caressed his manhood, my speed increased with each tug of the hand. His eyes closed and he groaned, making me even wetter than I already was. He reached down, sliding two fingers inside the bottom of my bikini while I continued pleasuring him with my hand. As much as I wanted it, as much as I was willing to let it all happen right there, I used my free hand to push him away. He could take charge later. Right now it pleased me to please him.
I was in his ear again. “I want you to watch me, Richard. I want you to see me fucking you.”
He looked at me, his eyes clouded in a haze of ecstasy. I pointed to a chair at the front of the boat and uttered my first demand. “Sit.”
I dipped my hand inside the plastic cup of wine and knelt in front of him, drenching his stiff manhood with transparent, red liquid. I took his erection in my hand, lifting it. With the tip of my moistened tongue, I started at the shaft and licked my way to the head, closing my mouth over the top and humming when I reached it. He moaned, his hardness twitching inside my hand, resisting and yet giving in at the same time. He clenched his teeth, fighting to make it last longer. I was up for the challenge.
