by Amanda Scott
She shook her head, annoyed at the billionaire for taking her clothes like that.
He doesn’t own me. And he doesn’t own my clothes.
But she only had two options, waltz around in only her towel until she found him and gave him a piece of her mind…
Or she could surrender and put on the flimsy sleepwear, knowing it would at least securely cover most of her naked body.
Ugh.
Taylor walked slowly down the writer’s hallway in her borrowed wardrobe. I might as well be naked, she thought. She could feel puffs of air brush up against the lower cheeks of her ass, the same ass that practically hung out of the outfit she was wearing.
And then her heard his voice. Something wasn’t right in his world, that much was clear to her the instant she heard his vocal inflection.
“They’re gonna have to face me at some point! And if…” he paused to whoever he was talking to on the phone. “If they’re lucky enough to get a shot in before I see ‘em coming, then so be it.”
She took a few more steps until she reached the top of his stairs. She knew she shouldn’t be listening in on Colton’s conversation like this, but she couldn’t help herself.
Taylor was certain he was really, really pissed off. She wondered if he was always operating at this speed, or not… And she was even more intrigued than ever; besides the fact that he was the sexiest man she’d ever been this close to, she was certain that there was a juicy story buried beneath the his public persona.
The author raised his voice even louder as he talked to whomever it was he was talking to on his phone. “But if I see them before they see me, so help me motherfucking god! I will tear there fucking limbs apart!”
Jesus.
She’d never heard him this upset before. Something was really, really wrong, she thought.
“You calm down, cause I ain’t gonna calm down until I’m good and fucking ready. I’ll calm down when I no longer have someone else threatening me, trying to dictate how I’m supposed to live my own dictate how I’m supposed to live my life, or what I’m supposed to write about in my next book. After that, then I’ll calm down. Goodbye, Jordan.”
Then there was silence. She panicked, realizing she needed to move quickly and act as though she hadn’t heard a word of his conversation. She thought it’d sound odd if she walked backwards, towards her room, so instead she headed down the winding staircase.
She gasped when she saw Colton, shirtless, wearing only his dark, expensive jeans that hugged his legs and butt like it was nobody’s business.
The billionaire author was doing speed push-ups on his glossy wooden kitchen floor. “Thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, forty-one…” His phone was just off to the side of his hand. His face burned red, and every single muscle in his arms, shoulders, and back exploded through his skin as he pounded out more reps. “Sixty-two, sixty-three…”
“Everything okay?” she said meekly.
Colton stopped mid push-up. He stood up, his eyes still burning from the aftermath of his phone conversation. Then he looked at her and walked towards her. His chest and abs seemed to scream out Taylor’s name as he moved closer, but she knew she couldn’t touch them, not if she wanted to start working her way out of this mess once and for all.
Keep things simple, to the point. Tell him you want a ride home, even if he doesn’t think it’s a safe place for me to go back to right now. It’s a hell of a lot safer than being here.
He rubbed his own chin as he looked her over in the lace-trimmed sleepwear he’d left out for her. It was suddenly as if he hadn’t just been teetering on the edge of madness during his phone conversation just moments earlier. Taylor tried to cover herself up with her own hands and arms, but it was useless. “Everything’s more than okay. I’m sorry if you had to listen any of that. It’s just business.”
It was too late for her to pretend that she hadn’t been eavesdropping. “I never knew business could be that intense for a writer.”
He walked towards even further her and then reached out his hand. She felt herself freeze, only his hand went right past her body and reached out for a grey t-shirt that was drooped over an espresso upholstered linen chair. She found herself secretly biting down on the inside of her lip as he slid his tight fitting shirt of over his shoulders and arms.
“Business is business, no matter who you are or what you do. And that means that whatever comes up must come down…”
She studied his eyes as he spoke. He reached behind her again slowly, his hand brushing up against the side of her hip. “You hungry?” he asked, showcasing a red grape that he had just grabbed from behind her butt.
She wondered if this was a good time to ask about whether or not he’d had a chance to look at what she’d written so far. Let it go, Taylor. A man like him doesn’t give a shit about your chicken scratch.
“No. Not even close,” she said.
He popped the grape in his mouth, bit down on it twice and then swallowed it nearly whole.
“You need to eat.”
She raised a brow. “Do I look like I need to eat right now?” Then she pointed to her own body, a body she’d never been all that proud of. She knew she had beautiful skin, a pretty face, and a chest that men tended to ogle over. But she was far from cover girl material, and she always fretted over the extra baggage she never seemed capable of losing, no matter how many resolutions she’d made in the past.
He moved in even closer, making her feel physically smaller in his presence. She liked feeling smaller; it made her feel, in her mind at least, more attractive. His eyes made no apologies whatsoever as they slowly scanned her thighs, pausing at her sweet spot which lay hidden behind some ultra-thin bikini bottom. “Everyone needs to eat,” the writer said. He moved in yet an inch or two closer, his hip moving into hers as he reached behind her once more.
This time, his hand came back with a small, white ceramic bowl loaded with mist-laden strawberries.
He was too close to her for comfort. She shouldn’t have gotten herself into this mess, again, and now she had no clue how she was going to undo everything.
“I’m fine,” she protested.
His lips opened slightly as a small smile formed across his face. “That you are, Taylor Ward.” He reached into the bowl, pulled out a strawberry, and took a large bite out of its side. “Your turn,” he said, rubbing the tip of the half-eaten berry along her bottom lip.
He’s dangerous. He’s really fucking dangerous. You don’t need to take this.
But then she caught a whiff of the strawberry, and it was like no other scent she’d ever smelled before. She looked up at the author with suspicious eyes, “One bite, that’s all.”
He grinned. “Of course, Taylor.”
Why was he doing this to me? And how could he go from insanely furious to whatever he is now in less than three minutes?
Then she opened her mouth and he slid the tip of the berry in between her lips. She pressed down on the fruit with her lips, then bit down on its tip with her teeth.
His forearm then accidentally, or not, brushed up against her nipple. Please no, she thought. But it was too late as both of her nipples stiffened. “You see,” he smiled as he spoke. “I told you you were hungry.”
She looked down, unable to meet his gaze in this moment. He tilted her chin up with his finger, sending an electric surge to shoot down her neck and into her crotch.
“I should have known better,” she said softly.
“What’s that?” he rasped.
She turned her head to the side, trying with all her might to avoid making anymore direct eye contact with this man. “I should’ve known you were right.”
What? Taylor had never kissed another man’s ass like this before. Oh she’d been compliant before, but not like this. But Colton Marcus just didn’t play fair; he was too damn sexy, too damn controlling, and too damn good at everything he seemed to do.
“Let that be your first importa
nt lesson with me,” he said, reaching around her back and pulling her hips into his crotch.
“I didn’t agree to take lessons from you,” she tried to resist.
“But you didn’t exactly withdraw from the course either.” Then he looked sharply into her eyes, his gaze hungry and determined.
“No, but…”
“Shhh… Don’t talk out of turn.”
“I…”
He pressed his finger onto her lips, silencing her altogether. “You want me to fuck you again, don’t you Taylor?”
She shook her head wildly. “No. No.”
She didn’t… She really didn’t.
And yet she did.
She really did.
He grasped both sides of her face with his giant hands. She closed her eyes and took in his scent, a mix of minty Crest and a slight trace of sweat from the push-ups he’d just been doing. “Don’t lie to me, Taylor. Not again.”
She shook her head, “I’m not lying to you. I don’t want you to…” She couldn’t say it. She could not say the word fuck, because if she did, it just might trigger something bad inside of her, the same thing that got triggered back at Baldpate’s creative writing department when he’d had his way with her there.
He held her face in his hand for a moment or two longer, staring into her eyes for what seemed like far too long for her to handle. Then he released her and stepped back. “Okay then.”
Her eyes grew wide as she watched him move away from her.
He stopped, and then pressed his lips together in a hard, straight line.
This wasn’t what I wanted either, she thought. Yes he had a temper. Yes he was dangerous. And yes he had no business doing anything with her but using her until he was good and ready to throw her away forever. But she didn’t care. She should’ve cared, but she didn’t.
He held his own hands out wide. “Is this what you want? Us, apart?”
Her eyes twitched slightly, and she prayed he hadn’t noticed. She was speechless, but that was more than enough of an answer for Colton. “Take it off,” he ordered.
This seriously cannot be happening, she thought.
“T… Take what off?” she bumbled.
His eyes narrowed as he took a step towards her. Then he quickly pulled his own shirt off his body. She couldn’t stop herself from staring… his chiseled chest, the sides of his abs that looked like rich, muscular handles for her to grab onto. “Do it now, Taylor Ward.”
She paused for a split second, and then she knew exactly what she had to do.
Maybe it wasn’t the ideal choice, but she no longer felt like she had a say in the matter, at least not according to her clenching, wet crotch.
And here she was again, finding herself wanting to please this man regardless of what was right or wrong. Screw right or wrong, she told herself.
A small, tiny voice tried one last time to reach out to her. You’re making a huge, huge mistake.
And screw you too, she told the voice.
She peeled the sleepwear up and off her arms. She was totally, unbearably, naked.
She moaned out loud as he squeezed one of her breasts hard, pinching her stiff nipple with his fingers tips as he flashed a sinful grin.
Taylor thought about using the ceramic bowl in his hands as a weapon to fight back against the billionaire. But instead she stood completely still, statue-like, as the billionaire took out another strawberry from the bowl. He dangled the piece of fruit above his mouth, then lunged forward with his mouth like a shark leaping out of the water to catch its dinner, taking a massive hunk out of the bottom of the berry. “Now you try,” he said, holding the half-eaten berry above her quivering lips.
She jutted her mouth forward, catching the edge of the fruit with her teeth.
“Bite down on it,” he rasped.
And she did, causing the berry’s juice to ooze down her chin and neck. He ran his finger through the juice on her skin, and then traced his wet finger down her stomach until he reached her moist sweet spot.
No, please no, she prayed. She vowed never to lose control with a man she didn’t fully trust again.
But it was too late. She was already naked. He’d already fucked her before. What made her think he would possibly stop now?
Her eyes rolled back in their sockets as his finger slipped easily inside of her wet folds.
“Oh shit,” she moaned.
He rasped in her ear, “Oh shit is right.” Then he pushed his finger into her body even deeper. The billionaire explored every inch of her wetness with his perfectly choreographed fingers. She wanted to scream. She wanted to beg. But she didn’t. That wasn’t her style.
Not yet at least.
He reached for another strawberry, biting the tip off with his perfect teeth. Colton then traced a circle around her belly button with the bleeding berry, and he watched as the juice ran across her flesh and towards her shaved opening. He stepped back and glanced over stomach and crotch as if he was admiring the most amazing work of art anyone had ever seen before.
Then he stepped towards her and grabbed onto both of her hips. She swore his eyes flamed red as he spoke to her. “You really are something.”
“I don’t believe you,” she muttered back.
He smirked and said, “Then let me show you.” Colton knelt down and started exploring her wet clitoris with his tongue, causing the young woman to lose her step and wobble into the table behind her.
But that didn’t stop him, not even for a second. Taylor rolled her head back, reaching for the back of his hair as his mouth devoured her sacred area. Normally she’d always associated this particular act as a sure sign of vulnerability, so the fact that she was allowing him to go down on her like this just didn’t add up.
He pulled out with his mouth for a short gasp of air. His voice was deeper than just moments earlier as he spoke. “You taste incredible, baby.”
She moaned again. Maybe it was him calling her baby. Or maybe it was her way of asking for more.
He wasted no time, grabbing the backs of her bare legs as he worked her clit even harder.
“Please…” she tried to say.
“Please what?” he whispered in return as he stepped back to admire her space.
“Please don’t…” she tried to finish, but the moment he began to lick her outer and inner lips, eventually landing back onto her clitoris, it was as if her voice had been stolen from her.
But she could still think to herself, even if she could no longer speak. Please. Don’t. Stop.
And he didn’t. Instead he explored her insides faster and faster with the tip of his wet, highly skilled tongue.
“Oh,” she moaned, backing into his table even more. He immediately chased after her with his tongue. She had nowhere to run, nowhere to hide…
She cried out as she dug into the back of his head, “Colton, please!” Then it hit her extremely hard and fast- wave upon wave of pleasure as she started to climax while his magical tongue still worked her wet spot.
When she was done, her legs wobbled even more. She couldn’t stand on her own two feet any longer, so she had no choice but to collapse onto the billionaire’s kitchen floor. She looked up at him as he stood above her. She reached up for the bulge in his pants, but he immediately pushed her hand away. “You don’t want to go there with me right now.”
Maybe he was right, she thought. She could only imagine what he would do to her body in the privacy of his own estate. The conference room hook up was one thing, but what would he do to her if there was nobody within earshot?
“And besides, I need you to get your head on straight.”
She squinted her eyes as she reached for the lingerie that he’d loaned her. “I don’t know if that’s possible anymore.”
“Has to be,” he said. “I need your help.”
She almost choked on her own throat. “You need my help?”
He reached out his hand and helped her get back on he
r feet. “You seem shocked,” he said.
“I am.”
“Good, that’s exactly how I need you to stay. It’s only when the shock wears off that complacency takes over, and the danger increases.”
Her eyes narrowed and her heart started to pound slightly harder. “Danger? You mean my property manager?”
He chuckled, but his eyes didn’t flinch. “No. Real danger. The kind that can’t be undone.”
She stood up taller. Suddenly the mood had gone from hot, sinful lust to something altogether terrifying for Taylor.
“I read your manuscript,” he said.
Her entire body stiffened. Colton Marcus read my manuscript. Her eyes widened as she spoke, “And?”
His phone started to vibrate on the wooden kitchen floor. He looked over at it, his eyes seemingly distressed. Then he looked back at her. He brushed the tips of her bangs off her forehead. “I’m dealing with a certain situation,” he said, slowly shaking his head. “And it aint’t good.”
“My manuscript?”
“No, my situation.”
She squinted even more. “Mr. Marcus, please… What do you want from me?”
He reached out and clasped her hand in his. “This might sound a bit crazy but… You are the voice I’ve been searching for.”
She looked at him like he’d just come down with sudden dementia, only she knew better. “The voice?”
“Yes, the voice; the counterpart that I’ve spent the last six months searching for. I need someone to help co-write my next novel with me, someone with a different perspective than I’ll ever have in order to change the course of action for my Jenny Bones character. Someone…” he paused and took a deep breath. “You are that someone, Taylor.”
She couldn’t breathe. Her jaw was dropped completely open. This has to be a joke! Colton Marcus is asking me to write a book with him?
“Why are you messing with me like this?” she asked.
He stared blankly at her. Then his doorbell rang, and his phone started to vibrate again.
And even though she wanted to disbelieve everything that he was saying to her right now, she knew better. Taylor was always exceptionally good at one thing in particular- reading people.
