CHAPTER ELEVEN
Donovan
What the fuck? I could hardly believe it as I pulled the Maserati to a stop before the crumbling curb. Because I bought Rachel a gorgeous penthouse, a luxury outfit, and instead, she was back here? What the fuck? Did the girl not like nice things or something? Hell no, this wasn’t happening.
But sure enough, as I pounded on the front door, some decrepit dude answered, cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.
“Yeah?” he rasped, eyes going wide at my big frame in a perfectly-cut suit, the forty-thousand dollar watch on my wrist.
“Rachel,” I rasped. “Where is she?”
The ratty looking dude merely shrugged.
“Lives upstairs,” he shrugged. “3C? 4C?” He indicated with a jerk of his thumb over his shoulder.
And with that, I was up the stairs in a flash. Of course, my best girl was in 3D, I remembered from our illicit anonymous fuck so long ago. The thing is it felt like a long time ago, but it wasn’t. Only two weeks past, I’d let myself into her apartment supposedly to drop off some birth control, but instead I’d ended up burying myself in that sweet cunt, taking her virginity while pulsing my sperm into that hot, wet twat. Oh god, had that really happened? Back then, we hadn’t even seen each other’s faces yet, not really, I’d been more of a man in the shadows, still stuck on my anonymous finger fuck idea.
But all of that is in the past now, blasted into smithereens. Because I realize that shit yeah, I want danger, and I’ve got it right here in my hands. Rachel is my danger, she’s a temptress, a true Salome. Just look how many times she’s gotten me to release inside that fertile body, spurting deep up into her vaginal canal. How many times had I roared my pleasure, balls high and tight, jerking and pulsing as blast after blast of male cream filled up that slutty pussy? It was insane, it was illicit, and the innocent teen had done that to me. She was the wolf disguised in sheep’s clothing, not me.
So I pounded on the door, massive body hard, insistent. I needed to see her. I’ve fucked up bad and I needed to explain myself, to make the brunette see my point of view, and to whisk her out of this shithole. Rachel deserved better than this, and I was gonna make sure my little girl got it.
But there was no answer. What the hell?
“Rach,” I roared in the hallway. Who the fuck cared if her neighbors heard? I was here to claim my woman and I didn’t give a fuck who knew. “Rach!” I shouted again.
Still no answer, the apartment absolutely silent. What the fuck? Where was she? And without thinking twice, I stepped back and with another enraged roar, went right through the front door. With a crash, the cheap plywood splintered, shards flying everywhere, my shoulder aching with the impact. But it was totally worth it because once inside, I saw my beautiful brunette staring at me from the kitchen, brown eyes wide, small hands gripping the tile.
“Are you insane?” she cried. “Are you totally insane?”
I was on her in a moment.
“You bet I’m insane,” I growled, dropping kisses on her any place I could reach, that sweet pink pout so arousing. “You bet your ass I’m insane.”
But Rachel wasn’t having it. The curvy girl struggled in my arms, trying to get away, squirming and squealing.
“Stop, stop!” came her enraged cries, small fists beating my chest and arms. “Stop it asshole!”
It didn’t even register. I was so bent on tasting my little girl again, on getting her hot and heavy, ready for my cock, that I only pulled the female closer, muscular arms like steel bands around that voluptuous body.
“Fuck yeah,” I ground out. “Daddy likes it when you fight, it makes dick taste so much better afterwards.”
That made the female freeze. The plump curves went absolutely still against me, trembling as she breathed heavily.
“Stop Donovan,” she commanded, eyes wide although there was a tinge of lust in the caramel depths. Unbidden, a chuckle rose in my throat. Oh yeah, baby wanted me, her body was telling me yes even if her words were no.
“That’s right,” I ground out, stroking those chestnut curls. “That’s right, do as Daddy says and it’s so much better when it comes.”
But Rachel wasn’t having it. She turned that delicate chin away, refusing to make eye contact even though we were smashed up against one another.
“You can’t do this Donovan,” she whispered raggedly. “You can’t do this to me, I won’t let you.”
I rumbled, this time lowering my head to trail kisses along her neck.
“Naw little girl, Daddy does what he wants,” I rasped. “Haven’t you realized that?” I licked along that swan-like curve, a big hand reaching up to cup a pendulous boob, squeezing firmly, making her inhale involuntarily. But at that moment my hand stopped because something was off. A hot drop of liquid had just hit my fist and to my horror, I realized Rachel was crying.
“What?” I ground out, heart beating so fast in my chest, it almost exploded. “Tell me little girl,” I rasped. “Tell me.”
But she still wouldn’t look at me.
“I won’t let you do this to me,” she shook her head again stubbornly, even if her voice came out in a painful whisper. “I won’t.”
And at that, I knew it was on me. I’d burst in like a fucking bear, I’d literally wrecked her front door, barreling in like she was mine. And the thing is that the female did belong to me, but she just didn’t know it yet, and I had to explain.
“Baby girl,” I began, voice hoarse in my chest. “I know I didn’t do right by you.”
At that, her chin flew around, brown eyes blazing.
“You think?” she exclaimed, tears still running down those sweet cheeks. “You think?”
I bowed my head against her shoulder, inhaling that female scent. But fuck, this was no time for distraction, I had to let her see the real me.
“Baby girl,” I began again. “I was a complete asshole, a total fuckwad. I deserted you at the Club, and you didn’t deserve that. You didn’t deserve to come home and find me gone. It was wrong, I acknowledge that.”
Rachel didn’t answer, eyes looking off at a fixed point even if her chin trembled. So I went on.
“Rach,” I began again slowly, still holding her close. “I’m fucked up in so many ways. I’ve been owning female bodies for more than thirty years now,” I ground out, nodding at her incredulous look. “Yeah, a forty-five year older fucker like me gets started early, and it’s been decades,” I acknowledged, taking a deep breath. “But that’s not the point. The point is that you deserve better, and I want to be that better. I want to be that better man, I want to leave the anonymous fucks behind, there’s no need for strange pussy or casual encounters in dark parks, because shit, I want you, you’re everything to me.”
But she turned to look at me then, eyes blazing.
“Oh really?” she bit out. “Then why did you ditch me the way you did? Why didn’t at least say goodbye?”
I took a deep breath, closing my eyes for a moment. But this was no time to be a coward, I had to tell her the truth.
“Old habits die hard, sweetheart, and I’m an old dog. Like I said, I’ve been fucking women for thirty years now, and that’s how I roll. How I used to roll,” I corrected, a rumble coming out of my throat.
She shot me another disbelieving look.
“Oh yeah?” the brunette asked, voice sharp. “So what’s changed? And why the hell did you do what you did?”
I took another deep breath, thoughts roiling.
“The thing is,” I began slowly. “I thought you were like the others. I thought that you were just another girl, another warm body to use and discard. But I was wrong,” I added quickly, begging her silently to understand. “I was absolutely wrong.”
The brunette still didn’t answer, looking away, standing stiffly in my arms. Oh shit, oh shit, it wasn’t working. My best efforts weren’t working, so I doubled down, rushing ahead.
“The thing is, I didn’t know how good I had it,” I cont
inued quickly, my words running into each other. Holy shit, was this really Donovan Jones, asshole extraordinaire, tripping over himself to explain things to a girl? Was I so desperate, my heart gone, tripping over my feet to make things right with a woman?
But the thing is, it was true. If Rachel didn’t believe me, if she didn’t forgive me, I had no idea what the hell I was going to do. There’s only one sweet brunette who can make me cream the way she does, only one girl who’s as delicious, as charming, as effortlessly innocent and curious about the world. I was head over heels, and shit, but all my defenses dissolved then, all my old habits forgotten because this girl was my life, what I needed to survive.
So I rushed on ahead.
“The thing is,” I began again, deep voice somewhat raspy with pent-up emotion. “The thing is,” I cleared my throat again, “that I thought I needed danger in my life, you know, with the anonymous fucks and all, meeting strange women on-line. And I didn’t realize that I had all that with you, that you’re more dangerous to me than some random chick.”
“Oh really, you didn’t realize?” she asked sarcastically, swinging disbelieving eyes to me. “All those times we met in random places, me bent over baring my pussy, when you couldn’t even see my face? That wasn’t dangerous to you?”
I shook my head.
“Naw, not really honey. A woman’s pussy is the most beautiful part of her body, and I’d risk my life to taste yours, to touch that twat again.” Oh shit, I was getting away from myself already, dick already ramrod hard from the female’s proximity. But there were words to be said and I had to get them out before losing control, before I got deep in that pulsing snatch.
“You see,” I began again. “You’re dangerous to me because never, and I mean never, have I not used protection. With other women, I always play it safe, I’ve got two condoms going, I pull out, I do everything to make sure that the girl doesn’t get a deposit of raw sperm.”
That made her turn to look at me with incredulous eyes.
“I don’t believe it,” she said flatly. “You’ve been seeding me from Day One, coming in all my secret spaces. I don’t believe it.”
I growled impatiently.
“Believe it sweetheart,” I ground out with a threatening tone to my voice. “You’re the only woman I’ve ever come in, the only one with my cum trailing from all your holes, gulping it up and swallowing. I don’t share,” I ground out hotly. “This shit is precious and no one gets it but you.”
Rachel still wasn’t persuaded.
“Then what happened?” she challenged, the tilt of her chin defiant. “What happened to make me different? Why am I different?”
I took another deep breath, preparing myself. But the thing is that the truth was so obvious and so non-obvious all at once, that there was no sense in speaking in anything but real words. So I went for it.
“The difference is that I fell in love with you,” I rumbled, eyes blazing as they met her. “Maybe at first, it was just casual, but as we got to know one another, I fell in love and it felt right,” I added tensely. “It felt right for you to take my sperm, it felt right for you to drink it, to feel it deep inside, to spray repeatedly in that beautiful cunt. It felt right, and it is right,” I growled insistently. “There’s only one sweet pussy who gets it, and that’s yours.”
The brunette was silent then.
“So that’s dangerous to you?” she asked. “Seeding me with your semen?”
I pulled away from her for a moment, looking at her hard.
“Of course,” I ground out. “Didn’t you hear me? I haven’t played it fast and loose with any other woman over the course of thirty years. You, baby girl, have gotten all the goodness, all the male jism that you need, and sweetheart, I have plenty more.”
But Rachel frowned then.
“So the danger is that you didn’t use birth control with me, whereas you did with other women?” she asked slowly. “It wasn’t that you fell in love with me?”
I huffed impatiently. God, what is it with women? What is it with words and special phrasings and complicated sentences, all of it impossible to disentangle?
“No of course, I love you,” I reaffirmed, eyes intent. “That’s part of what’s new because in thirty years, baby, I’ve never fallen in love. Sure, I’ve fucked, I’ve drilled, hell, I’ve even dated. But love? Naw, never.”
The brunette turned her face away.
“I see,” was all Rachel said. “I see.”
I wanted to shake that curvy frame, to take those shoulders and rattle the female until her teeth chattered.
“What’s wrong?” I ground out. “Spit it out sweetheart.”
Those brown eyes turned to look at me then, impossibly beautiful, wide and pained.
“Well, I guess, it’s just not what I was hoping to hear,” she began.
Not what she was hoping to hear? A billionaire alpha has just confessed his love for you, and that’s not what you’re hoping to hear? What the fuck? Did she want my soul, my brain, my liver, and kidneys too? Hell, take it all.
“Well what do you want then, sweetheart?”
The brunette bit her lip for a moment.
“I guess I just want to hear that it’s real,” she said. “None of this ‘I’m getting over bad habits,’ ‘I have a thing for anonymous fucks,’ and ‘You’re so lucky that I never used birth control with you.’ I just want to hear what every woman does,” she shrugged, looking off into the corner. “You know, that this is real, that you’re coming to me with an open heart.”
I goggled at her, eyes practically crossing. I mean, what the fuck, hadn’t I just bared my soul? Hadn’t I just done all that? What the hell, did she want me to walk on coals with bare feet before she’d believe? And reading my mind, Rachel sighed then.
“The thing is, Donovan,” she said quietly. “You make it sound like I’m so lucky to have you. That you were looking for something else entirely, that you actually want sleek, slinky girls with no faces, and it’s only by some random stroke of luck that I landed you. That your ‘regular self’ still prefers strange pussy, still prefers going on-line to meet your desires.”
I cut her off then.
“I haven’t been on-line since I met you,” I bit out harshly. “That profile might be deactivated for all I know.”
“I know,” the brunette nodded softly. “Me too. I haven’t been on Discreet Encounters since I met you either. But this is just weird, don’t you get it? You’ve been a tomcat for thirty years, and what’s the likelihood that I’ve really changed you, so to say? How could two weeks with me suddenly reform Donovan Jones, renowned asshole and international playboy?”
That stopped me short. The little girl was smart, much more than I gave her credit for, and her insights only made my chest swell with pride. Because Rachel was no pushover. Even if she was eighteen, the brunette wasn’t some airhead who’d believe anything and everything she was told. My baby has a brain on those shoulders, and it’s a big brain too, one that’s intelligent, with a nuanced understanding of tricky situations. So inhaling deeply, I turned her chin towards mine, looking into the big browns, seizing them with my deep blue.
“Honey, I can’t prove it, you’re right,” I ground out insistently. Shit, so much rode on this, I had to persuade the female to give me another chance, to at least keep the door open and not slam it shut. “I can’t prove anything, not right now, right here,” I acknowledged. “But with time, you’ll see. I’m a changed man, and baby, you did that to me. Everything about you has changed me,” I said, my voice almost breaking with need. “And I want it this way. I want to be a better man, a new man, just for you. The old Donovan was an asshole sure, and the new Donovan will probably still be an asshole. But honey, I’m your asshole. I’m yours, if you want it,” I said again, chest tight, eyes intense. “Just let me try, baby, let me try.”
The female cocked her head at me, that sweet pout so close and yet so far. Oh god, what if Rachel said no? What if Rachel was one and done al
ready, and I was too late?
But instead, she nodded somberly, just a small gesture with her chin.
“Okay,” the brunette said softly, the sweet breeze of her breath like the most fragrant perfume. “Okay, we’ll try. Together.”
And with that, I swept her into my arms, her curvy form pressed close to my broad chest. Because that was all I needed to hear. Despite my garbled explanation that didn’t come out too good, despite the fact that I’d been condescending even as I desperately wanted to win her over, it had worked. The brunette was giving me another chance to catch the brass ring. And as an alpha who capitalizes on every opportunity? I was gonna make the woman mine … for keeps.
EPILOGUE
Rachel
“Oh,” I moaned lustily, creaming around his fingers. “Oh, oh.”
Because Donovan and I were re-living our first encounter. Oh yeah, we were in a public place, the opera this time, and Donovan was touching me from behind, slowly stroking my wet folds before worming his fingers into my vaginal passage.
“Unnh!” I shrieked. “Unnh!”
“Shhh,” he rasped behind me. “We don’t want to ruin the performance for our fellow concertgoers.”
And fortunately, the soprano’s voice rose right then to cover my ecstatic shrieks, the cries that I couldn’t help but let out. I almost keeled over, but the ledge saved me, hands gripping with white knuckles, shivering with ecstasy.
Because oh yeah, the Billionaires Club keeps a box at the opera, one for members to use whenever they want. And right now, Donovan and I were dressed in formalwear, my alpha impossibly handsome in a tux, that huge form dark and imposing, the perfectly-cut material emphasizing his broad shoulders and long legs.
And I was clad in an evening gown to match, a perfectly normal, sexy red column with a sweetheart neckline and a slit up one leg. But oh yeah, that slit. What the rest of the audience couldn’t see was how Donovan worked that thigh high slit because what seemed reasonable when I was standing up gave my lover perfect access to my pussy in the confines of the box. Oh yeah, he had that slit pulled open all the way to my waist, the folds of the fabric obscenely draped around my hips as those fingers pushed hotly into my vaginal canal.
Spy Games: A Billionaire Bad Boy Heist Romance Page 64
