Chased (How Not To Be Seduced by Billionaires: Book 1)

by Marian Tee

  His eyes blazing with need and desire, he said, “Let’s swim, Yanna.”

  Oh, let’s, especially when he said the words like he was saying “let’s fuck” instead.

  Only a few couples were in the water with us, and all of them occupied the shallower end of the pool. Constantijin started to laugh when he saw me clutching the sides of the pool the moment we reached the five-foot mark.

  “Don’t you know how to swim?”

  “I do,” I said haughtily. At his knowing look, I grumbled, “But I don’t know how to float.”

  He laughed harder. “You are too adorable for words, schat.”

  I rolled my eyes. “Adorably pathetic, you mean?”

  He grinned but said nothing. I watched him shake his head a bit, fascinated at how several locks of his hair showered droplets of water on his broad shoulders. It made me want to lick every drop until he was dry and dripping for another reason.

  I closed my eyes. You are such a bad girl, Yanna.

  When I opened my eyes, he was smiling at me, “Yanna, hang on to me so we can go further?”

  Blinking rapidly at what he was suggesting, I stammered, “I…I…”

  “Come on, it will be fun.” And then he was slowly pulling me away from the edges. I thought he meant I should ride piggyback style while he floated for us both, but apparently he had something else in mind – something that had me aroused again in seconds.

  Constantijin took me in his arms, arranging my legs around his waist.

  In my mind, I heard my imaginary version of George chortling. What happens in Vegas – stays in Vegas.

  This time, I totally agreed with him.

  Constantijin gazed at me challengingly, as if waiting for me to protest. When I put my arms around him instead, moving close so that my breasts brushed against his chest, he sucked his breath in shock.

  The look in his eyes was pure heat, and I wrapped my legs around him more tightly. It made me shift against him, and his cock rose against me, demanding entrance past the tiny blue triangle that served as my bikini bottom.

  “You’re so close to being fucked,” he whispered.

  “Am I?” I whispered back, drunk in the heady sensations that his body, his touch – his very presence evoked. My voice actually sounded a bit slurred when I spoke. Oh, yes, I was so drunk – intoxicated with the passion that never failed to erupt between us.

  I wriggled my hips under the water, biting my lip when I got what I wanted, his cock practically pushing against my core.

  His eyes widened, and his warning came out unsteady when he spoke, his fingers digging hard in the softness of my butt. “Yanna. Stop playing with fire.”

  So, so drunk, I thought, still caught in a sensual haze of his doing – and mine. There was no need for wine. I just had to look at Constantijin’s nearly naked form – be overexposed to it for more than five minutes, and I was totally undone.

  Just this one night, I promised to myself. Surely in this century my unknown Mr. Right wouldn’t care that someone else had taken my virginity? If he did, then he wasn’t Mr. Right, after all.

  Constantijin’s gaze was trained on my breasts, which bobbed in the water every time I moved.

  Giggling, I bent lower towards Constantijin, wanting him to see more.

  Oh, God, I was so, so drunk.

  His face darkened with desire, his fingers cupping the undersides of my butt as if in reflex. “Yanna, don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” I fluttered my lashes at him.

  His eyes narrowed. “Don’t start something you can’t – won’t - finish.”

  I dropped the proverbial penny. “Who says I won’t?”

  Constantijin had hauled both of us out of the pool in seconds and I found myself being literally carried away.

  “Constantijin,” I gasped, totally not drunk anymore as I could feel everyone around us gaping. Someone – George probably – even whistled.

  He didn’t answer, striding purposefully toward the nearest elevator. It opened almost on cue when we reached its doors, and he stepped inside, still carrying me in his arms. Constantijin didn’t seem to notice the increasing number of wide-eyed looks going our way but I did.

  “Let me down,” I hissed, trying to struggle out of his hold without being too obvious about it. My heart beat madly all the while, an instinctive response to the deep and burning passion that Constantijin was visibly struggling to hold in check, his body positively vibrating with sexual tension.

  “Stop moving or I swear I’ll take you right here,” he gritted between clenched teeth.

  I stilled.

  “Do you know,” he asked in a guttural voice that made his words almost incomprehensible, “how much I’ve been thinking of you – how I can’t get to work the moment I let my mind be completely consumed of thoughts of your hot little body?”

  I was so, so wet by the time he finished speaking.

  One part of me questioned what I was doing. What the hell did true love have to do with all this? But the other part of me was rejoicing in my decision, of finally being free from all the inhibitions and just being able to indulge.

  Did Vegas do this to me – get rid of my inhibitions all at once so I could finally know what it was like to have sex with Constantijin? Or was it that my subconscious had only been waiting for a scapegoat, and Vegas was exactly that – a reason to excuse the inexcusable?

  In the end, it didn’t matter.

  I wanted him. He wanted me.

  Constantijin took me to his room, which was – unsurprisingly – the hotel’s penthouse suite. But I didn’t really have time to look around, not when Constantijin was kissing me wildly the moment we entered his room.

  His kiss sent my head reeling again, so much that I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, and totally hadn’t a clue about what I should do. “Wait,” I gasped against his mouth, close to panicking.

  “Relax,” he muttered as his mouth descended, leaving little kisses on my neck as he did. “Let me take care of everything.”

  And then the phone in his room rang. It was hard to ignore, but both of us did our best. It let out a loud beep, followed by a familiar tone that told me the call had been transferred to his voice box.

  “Baby, it’s me, Selena. I heard you were in Vegas? I am, too. I’m naked and hot---”

  Buzz kill was the polite word for it as Constantijin sprang from me, cursing in Dutch – or at least I thought it sounded like cuss words – and stalking towards the phone. He tore it out of its sockets and threw it on the cushion. One part of me was taken aback by the rage in his actions, but another part of me was coldly indifferent to it.

  Too freaking late, my Dutch playboy billionaire.

  Just too freaking late.

  He turned to me, hand outstretched. “Yanna---”

  I avoided his touch.

  His eyes darkened. “Don’t. You know you can’t blame me for her call. I hadn’t had sex with another woman since I met you.”

  I hugged myself hard. “It doesn’t matter.”

  “It fucking matters, and you know it!”

  He was shouting. Wasn’t I supposed to be the one shouting here? “We’re just not a good thing together,” I mumbled. Confusion, pain, and anger blended into a pit of darkness inside me, drowning my heart, and making my body feel numb.

  “Yanna, you know you’re being unfair. You know that.”

  I bit my lip hard to keep myself from my crying. “I know.”

  “Then let me---”

  “You worry me. You scare me.” Constantijin’s face was pale by the time I finished speaking. But now that I had started, I realized I had to let everything out – as usual. Just because he was Constantijin Kastein didn’t mean it was always going to be different with him.

  “We’re too different. You think about sex all the time. You make me think about sex all the time when I never even wanted to…” I forced myself to continue. “I never even wanted to touch myself before you.”

  Poor Constantijin
.

  He looked more than shocked. He looked sick now. Was he thinking he had a lucky escape – that he had almost had sex with a basket case? Sex was nothing to him and here I was, practically having an emotional breakdown before him.

  “What do I have to do to change your mind?” He was asking the question, but he wasn’t really asking it. You got what I mean, right?

  But I gave him my answer anyway, never mind if I knew he didn’t really care at this point. Everything about Constantijin right now told me so. The impassive look on his face, the stiff stance of his body – everything about it screamed ‘I don’t do complications’.

  “Court me.” Walter did that for Carole. Walter – the kindest man I had ever known, my father, the one man I looked up to, and the man Carole once described as the doctor who had affairs with nurses in every major hospital in the world he had been invited to visit.

  Constantijin’s eyes widened.

  “Make me feel you want me – just me.” I gave him a sad smile, my words halting as I spoke the truth. “But that’s not your thing, right?” Constantijin would think this was another power play. It wasn’t, but I couldn’t blame him for thinking that way.

  And he said equally slowly, his words like the final nails burying my heart six feet deep, “No. That’s not my thing.”

  He walked me to my room after that, neither of us speaking.

  Any time now, I whispered to myself. Anytime now he’d look back and realize he was about to do the greatest mistake of his life, that things could be so great between us, that I was worth chasing after---

  We reached my door, and I opened it ever so slowly, waiting for something I knew was becoming more and more impossible. Say something. Please say anything so I can do something to salvage this.

  I stepped inside my room, and when I turned around to thank him he was already walking away, killing all my futile hopes in a heartbeat.

  It was the last I saw of him for the weekend.

  The Final Lesson on How Not to Be Seduced by Billionaires

  Ask your billionaire to chase you.