by Vela, Ana
Lily and the Billionaire
Vol. 3
By Ana Vela
© 2013 BCN Press
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
This story is intended for mature adults only. It contains sexual scenarios, dirty language, hot action, and much more! Please store your digital files where they cannot be accessed by minors.
And above all – Enjoy!
About the Author
Ana Vela is romantic at heart. Living in Miami with her husband, two sons, and a puppy, she finds time to sneak away at night and live out her fantasies by writing them all down and creating these stories for her faithful readers.
To contact Ana, please write to [email protected], and she will answer each and every email personally!
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Other Books by Ana Vela
Lily and the Billionaire: Vol. 1
Lily and the Billionaire: Vol. 2
Anastasia (Vol. 1)
Anastasia: No Strings Attached (Vol. 2)
Anastasia: Executive Perks (Vol. 3)
Anastasia: Whatever It Takes (Vol. 4)
Chat Room Romance
Strip Club Secrets (An Erotika Short)
A Night With My Master (A BDSM Short)
Vol. 3
The winter wind was whistling wildly as grey, pendulous clouds chased each other excitedly across the sky; yet somehow even this somewhat unwelcoming behaviour did not dampen Lily's spirits as she pottered around her tiny flat, wondering what to do with her day off.
Normally such weather would ensure Lily's staying firmly put on the sofa, curled up with a good book or something funny she found to watch on the internet. Today, though, this itinerary failed to stimulate her. She was still buzzing faintly with intrigue and titillation about the date which she had arranged for the following evening with a certain Edwin Waterman. Of course, the man remained very much an enigma to Lily but every time she thought about it she tingled with anticipation; making her movements around the kitchen, as she tried to find something vaguely healthy to put into her body, light and restless. Regardless of how uncertain she felt about who or what Edwin was, she was looking forward to investigating more…
On the phone the day before, he had said that he would be very pleased to see her again. "You can tell me all about your adventures", he had almost purred down the phone; so deep and resonant was his voice.
Remembering, she tingled again. But what adventures could she tell him about? She hardly thought he would be interested in her constant struggle to make anything that resembled a good meal from whatever she could find; as somehow whenever it came down to actually buying healthy food, she either forgot to go when the shops were open or simply didn't have the time. As a result of this she was becoming more and more expert in creating culinary inventions; right now she was settling down on the sofa with a bowl of noodles fried with banana and tomato, with peanut butter mixed in. 'Odd but tasty,' she thought as she tucked in, pulling her laptop up from the floor onto the arm of the sofa and perusing her social media networks. 'Now, who can help me find some interesting adventures…?'
The wind rattled her windows and she shivered, half-tempted to reconsider her normal plan of staying inside. But somehow this was impossible with such excited energy welling up inside her. Edwin's words from the last time she had seen him came back to her - "it's always healthy to embrace the unknown". And her flat most certainly did not fall into this category. However… She spotted a post someone had made about a free exhibition from a mix of cultures in East London that day. It was at some kind of community centre which she had never heard of before. 'That's enough to know to go on adventures', she considered, as she sucked up the last of her noodles with growing vigour.
Lily almost got lost trying to find the venue. She hadn't expected it to look like it did; a simple, unassuming concrete affair on a typical East London high street. She peered at the plain door; trying to be sure she was at the right address. It certainly didn't look like a gallery…
As she peered, the door opened outwards, making her leap backwards, startled. A tall, pale man wearing a leather, peaked cap and a large curly moustache stepped out, and seeing her, stopped in surprise.
"You looking for someone?" he asked with a friendly grin.
"Er…I heard something about a free exhibition…close to here?" faltered Lily, still a little bewildered from his sudden appearance.
The grin widened. "Oh yes, you got the right place", he nodded encouragingly, holding the door open for her. "It's really good. I'll join you in a sec, just got to get my nicotine fix!"
He fished out a pouch of tobacco, some filters and papers from the bulging pocket of his tight-fitting black jeans, frowning as the eager wind attempted to pull them from his grasp.
"Good luck!" laughed Lily, companionably, as she made her way out of the weather into the building.
Inside, the building was completely unrecognisable as the dreary concrete block it seemed from the street. In fact, it was impossible even to tell what country one was in, Lily thought, as she wandered through a myriad of interconnecting little chambers; some brightly lit, with brash orange or magenta walls; others subdued black-walled affairs with carefully placed spotlights to highlight the exhibits in beautiful relief. She was very impressed. And that was just with the walls! As she began examining the exhibits themselves she was considering the effectiveness of providing an interesting space for art to be displayed in. Though she painted herself, she had not really exhibited any of her works before except at school, where the setting was always strictly white walls and fluorescent lighting. She had never thought before that it is not just the art she was making which she could use to influence what people saw; but how she chose to present it as well.
She stopped in a small, round, black-painted room with a projection playing almost all the way around the middle in a near-complete ring. The projection showed some Indian-looking people in multi-coloured outfits, dancing and playing instruments as they threw flowers and coloured powder into the air. Then the scene changed to a mountain vista with more people singing and dancing; different clothes and instruments, but a similar spirit. The scenes flicked rapidly from group to group of people; jumping from naked black bodies whirling in desert heat to pale shapes dressed entirely in green, prancing around a bonfire in glee. Every scene was drastically different in many ways; but Lily was deeply touched by the profound sameness present in the intensity and joy with which each of the filmed people participated in their dances.
She stood, entranced, for some time, then smiling peacefully, moved on.
"I gave up trying to roll my cigarette", she heard behind her, as she stood gazing at an oil painting of some people sharing some kind of luscious and extravagant fruit salad. She turned and saw the peak-hatted man, grinning ruefully from under his formidable moustache.
"I guess this weather is good for something," pointed out Lily, "your lungs are thanking you, aren't they?!"
He tilted his head to one side, consideri
ng. "Maybe, but the rest of my body wants to know what's going on!"
They laughed, Lily remembering the feeling of needing to smoke and empathising, though happy that she no longer felt this pull from her own body.
"So, what do you reckon?" continued the man chattily, stroking his chin and examining the oil painting in a critical pose which Lily could not be certain if it was put-on or not. She decided to play his game anyway, and standing back she struck her own critic's pose, hand on hip, rubbing her chin thoughtfully.
"If the artist was going for realism they are not fooling anybody", she commented in a mock-critic's tone; so easy to imitate from the many years she had spent listening to it at school. "This fruit is clearly far too huge and juicy to actually have existed in real life!"
"Hmmmm… You are correct, I think," agreed her new friend, gazing at the painting equally seriously. Uh-oh, she thought. Maybe this man really was a critic.
"Just look there, at that banana," he continued. "Who gets bananas that big in real life? Looks like this guy is clearly trying to…compensate… for something…" She turned to catch his deep brown eyes twinkling at her, and they both collapsed in giggles, unable to sustain their roles.
"My name's Eugene, by the way", said the man, offering his hand, as their tittering subsided.
"Lily," she replied, taking it. To her surprise he pulled her towards her with an unexpected grace and kissed her cheek.
"Enchanted", he said, and then, noticing her consternation, laughed.
"Sorry", said Lily, a bit confused. "I'm not really used to people saying 'hello' with their bodies…"
Eugene roared with laughter. "I suppose it's not really the typical English way!"
"I guess it's important to absorb the best of the other cultures we find around us here though," offered Lily, and twinkling again he nodded with great enthusiasm.
"Shall we look at some more?"
She readily agreed and they began to peruse the rest of the exhibition together. His manner was so light-hearted that she found herself giggling and tittering at almost every comment he made and as they neared the end of the show she was in high spirits.
"Where are you going now?" he asked her as they paused in the last chamber; a bright red and turquoise affair whose every available wall surface was covered in a profusion of masks, seemingly from every corner of the world.
Lily considered. She did not have work until the next morning, and it was only a four-hour shift. "I… had no plans," she admitted.
"I think there is a nice bar close to here", said Eugene, "If we are going to continue to be art critics we need to make sure we are drinking enough."
"You're right, of course", agreed Lily, and they stepped out of the multicoloured mask world, and into the grey, shopper-crowded street.
To Lily's slight surprise, Eugene stopped before they set off to unlock a bike from round the side of the building. She did not know anyone who cycled around London; had always felt it would be a distinctly unpleasant experience, with all the traffic and fumes.
"Don't you get scared about getting hit?" she asked as they found seats in the bar (which was, indeed, nice) and Eugene finally began rolling himself a successful cigarette.
"Nah", he said, "the trick is to be confident! The cycle lanes around this city are an absolute joke - no point in following them. Sometimes you're going along one at the side of a busy road and suddenly a sign looms up: 'end of route!' I don't know what the person who designed it expects cyclists to do at that point. Levitate, maybe?"
Lily laughed, but her eyes were round in apprehension. "But what do you do??" she pressed, hardly daring to think about the sudden rush of oncoming cars.
"That's the thing - you just have to keep going, but with the absolute certainty that you have the right to be there", explained Eugene. "If you are projecting confidence, the other drivers all notice you and so they have to respect you".
"Sounds scary!"
He shrugged. "Perhaps at first. But it really works!" he licked his cigarette with a flourish, and gestured with his head to the street.
"I don't suppose you'd care to join me while I smoke this?"
Lily looked. It was getting dark and the wind was stronger than ever. The few smokers she could see outside were huddled over in clear discomfort. Also, it had just begun to drizzle.
The scene was not exactly inviting.
"I think I'll wait here, thanks," she said. Flashing her a look of mock surprise which made her giggle again, he left.
She sat back and gazed around at the friendly and understated room, noticing the large selection of wines on display behind the bar. Among them was a bottle of a type of red she was particularly fond of: a rich, fruity number which always reminded her of raspberry pudding. On Eugene's return, they went together to the bar to ask the price.
Friendly the bar may be but this was still London and Lily was not overly surprised to hear that buying just one small glass of the wine would use up all of her cash; meaning she could not afford to get home that evening. With a slightly bitter smile, she explained this to Eugene.
"It's a shame, since it's your favourite kind", he agreed.
"But I have to get home", pointed out Lily, "and the bus prices just keep going up and up. Haven't noticed any improvement in the services, though…"
"I wouldn't know about that", said Eugene. "My bike gets me everywhere I need to go".
"What if you need to go to the opposite side of the city?"
"Easy!" claimed Eugene. "One of the things you notice with a bike is that this city really isn't that big. Even going all the way across it rarely takes more than a couple of hours. And, of course, it's free".
Lily had to admit she was impressed. "Sounds very liberating", she commented.
"Oh yes," enthused Eugene, "I don't even want to think about how much I'm saving by not using public transport! But I can tell you, it's a lot." He looked at the bottle of wine again, thinking.
"I'm not going to buy you a glass of this wine", he announced, filling Lily with mixed emotions. If he had offered, she probably would have refused, as she didn't enjoy feeling like she was being bought. Yet here he was telling her he didn't want to pay for her!…
"I'm going to buy you the bottle!" continued Eugene.
"Er…what??" she asked. "No, that's far too much!"
"Not here!" cried, and taking her hand, he led her to the nearest supermarket, where of course, they found a bottle of the same wine for cheaper than one glass in the bar.
"I guess we need to find somewhere to drink this", said Lily as they walked out of the supermarket and went to fetch Eugene's bike.
"Well, my place is not far", he said. "You are cordially invited…" he looked into her eyes, seeming at first to gaze at her in intense invitation. She gazed back, captivated for a millisecond. But then the corners of his eyes crinkled and he laughed again. "Only if you want to, of course!"
Lily wanted to. She had a feeling this adventure was going to be a good one.
*********
"…And then we just wandered around the castle in the middle of the night!" Eugene's stories were getting funnier the more of the delectably vibrant wine they sipped, and Lily threw her head back again in laughter. They were sitting on the sofa in his flat, a large, open-plan space with one wall made entirely of glass; giving quite an impressive view of the glittering towers of the financial area of London. Despite its spaciousness the flat was quite cosy and Lily sat up, unbuttoning her knitted cardigan.
"More wine?" asked Eugene, gesturing with the bottle.
"Oh, yes!" said Lily, proffering her glass. He poured the liquid slowly in, his gaze drifting from the glass upwards to her now-exposed cleavage and slowly caressing her face as his eyes locked with hers. His eyes were so intense that she felt like she was being physically licked, and shivered deliciously with the sensation. They held each others' gaze for a second or two, then Eugene remembered the wine, which had only just avoided spilling over the edge of the glass onto
the floor.
"Phew! The bottle finished just in time!" he said.
"I guess we are doing a pretty good job at being art critics", commented Lily. They giggled.
"To art!" he said, raising his glass with surprisingly convincing reverence.
"To art!" she agreed and they drank deeply.
"What did you think of that exhibition?" asked Lily, eager to share her feelings about such an interesting experience.
"Oh, atrocious, darling! No eye for the consumer at all!" insisted Eugene, swilling his wine around in its glass and turning his head sharply to give her a contemptuous look; knocking his hat askew on the back of the sofa as he did so. Lily giggled again, but still wanted to pursue this.
"But…I mean really? What did you truly think?"
