“Holy shit,” I mutter. “Are you sure? I’m not sure I should take your money, just because, you know, we’re involved.”
“Sweetheart, of course you should. Think of all the people you’ll help,” he says, stroking my hair.
I can’t argue with him, he’s right. “Thank you,” I say, and kiss his cheek.
“But what I want to talk to you about, not necessarily now, is establishing a trust fund, so you’re not as insecure and dependent on donations.”
Shaking my head, I say, “That’s incredible. But so much money, please think it over. Maybe you’ll be tired of me in the morning, and realize you’ve been wearing… Champagne goggles.”
Liam throws his head back and chuckles, “I’d never get tired of you. How could I?”
With his hand, he squeezes my shoulder and pulls me tighter into him. If Liam is genuine about donating such a large amount, all my hopes and dreams for the charity would be achieved. When Tanner died, I struggled to find anywhere to turn to support me, but also give me answers about how this could happen to someone so young and healthy. The only way I could cope with my grief was the resolve to help other people in the same situation, and especially to help victims who were lucky enough to survive.
With such a large donation, all the hopes and goals I’d ever had for the charity are achieved. We fall into a silence while I process the idea. A calm comes over me, a sort of closure. It’s as though a chapter of my life has ended — one full of heartache and a scrambling need to cope with the grief any way I can — and I’m turning the page on a new one, unsure what I’ll find on it.
Before I can dwell too much on the meaning, I change the subject. “Your apartment is amazing.”
“Thanks.”
“No, seriously. Is it the biggest in the city, or what?”
Liam laughs again, “I don’t know, I’m not in the habit of comparing myself to others.”
Now I laugh, and glancing down at his exposed body say, “I guess you don’t need to enter any pissing contests, huh?”
His huge dick twitches at my words and the heat of my gaze.
“Not really,” he says.
Liam cups my chin, and brushes his lips against mine. I part my lips, and he closes his mouth over mine for a short kiss, before pulling away.
“I don’t like people knowing who I am, because then they’d know how much money I have and I’d be a target.” His voice is soft, concerned.
“A target for what?”
“Criminals who want to get their hands on my money.”
“There are so many people with lots of money, it doesn’t happen often.”
“It’s not a chance I’m willing to take.”
“But at what cost? You locking yourself up in here and not even letting anyone into your apartment? Your own doorman doesn’t even know who you are,” I say, gesturing around the room. I pause before adding, “And what about friends?”
Immediately I feel bad, like I’ve overstepped a line. But I want to say more. I want to know if he realizes how much of life he’s missing out on by locking himself up in his palace.
“I’ve let you into my home.” Liam smiles so broadly and earnestly at me that my heart melts, though his eyes are filled with sadness. I can’t resist brushing my lips against his cheek.
“I’m glad you did.” Although he didn’t really let me into his home, he dragged me into it kicking and screaming. Thankfully.
“I was serious earlier, when I said I want to enter into this relationship with full disclosure.”
“Well, I’m not going to do any blackmailing. I can promise you that much.”
“I know. I trust you, sweetheart. I really do. We’re meant to be together, I know it.”
A tear wells in my eye at Liam’s words. He’s so genuine, so full of tenderness toward me, that I can’t help but acknowledge my own intense feelings for him.
Wrapping my arms tightly around him and pressing my body against his, I say, “Okay then. Who are you really, Liam Jones?”
The Truth
(Liam)
The tightness in my throat from thinking what happened to my mentor relaxes a little with her touch. I rarely allow myself to even think about it. Victor is about the only other person I’ve shared my concerns with about the threats to my money.
My voice would waver if I spoke now, so I remain silent and do not answer Darcy’s request to know my real name. Instead, I pull her completely onto my lap, cup the back of her head, and close my mouth over hers. Our kiss is gentle, more meaningful than before now that we’ve laid everything out about each other. We’re closer, connected.
Darcy’s change of mind from dinner shows she’s accepted this thing between us, she’s stopped fighting the thing I’ve known since the wedding — we’re meant to be together. She is The One.
I shift her body, and put each of her legs along either side of me, so that she’s straddling me. Her bathrobe flows over her legs, leaving her pink lips pressing against my cock. It stirs at the soft moistness, and it starts to harden. I grip Darcy’s hips and grind her against my dick. I moan as it springs to life. I hadn’t planned on doing this now, but I can’t resist her.
Placing my hands on her waist, I yank her bathrobe open to feel her soft skin against mine. Her tits rub up against me, her nipples as hard as my cock.
Squeezing her waist, I lift her and lower her onto my cock. Fuck, I don’t have a condom nearby, but at this point I can’t fight the urge to care. I’m clean, I’m sure she is. I’ll pull out. And holy fuck do her slick walls feel amazing against the bare skin of my dick.
Our kiss grows hungrier, and I’m sure she feels the meaning of it as much as I do. Darcy circles her hips, grinding her clit against me with each movement. My cock screams at how fucking good she makes me feel. The tingles exploding down my legs and up my back.
I pull her closer to me, her clean scent from the shower filling my nose. She smells like my shower gel, mixed with her own sweet scent. And that’s what she is now, she has my mark all over her.
Sliding my hands into her bathrobe, I hook them into the arm holes and pull it off her. I finally break our kiss to look at her, to examine the gorgeous, curvy woman sitting astride me.
My eyes flit over her, the juiciness of her thighs, the lusciousness of her tits, jiggling as she moves herself on me.
The entire time I’m taking her in, I’m aware of her blue eyes on me, watching my eyes watch her. I shift my gaze to her face, and our eyes connect. It gives me a jolt, which runs all the way down my spine to my cock, and it surges inside of her.
I clamp my hands on her hips to still her, to give my dick time to calm down so we can keep doing this.
Darcy sucks her lips between her teeth, and I catch her eyes again. They’re pure blue, the clarity of a window into her soul. As I gaze into them, a thought hits me like a punch to the stomach.
I’ve always been wary of exposing my identity to a woman in case she blew my cover. Until now, I’d never considered the possibility that I’d be putting her safety at risk.
Nothing can ever happen to her, especially because of me.
Now that Darcy’s mine, I have to protect her from people who could hurt her in order to blackmail me. Is it fair of me to put her at such risk? I make a mental note to get a bodyguard on her as soon as she leaves my apartment.
Racked with guilt, our gaze locks. I brush her hair from her face, and say, “I’ll never let anything happen to you.”
Darcy’s brow knits and she tilts her head. “Why would something happen to me? Who are you, Liam Jones? You never answered that.”
I bring her head alongside mine, our cheeks touching. My heart hammers in my chest but I won’t let it stop me from uttering the three words I’ve never said before.
In a low voice, I say, “I’m William Bannerman.”
She gasps so loudly it seems to suck all the air out of the room. I stroke my hands over her back, arms and legs while she digests my words.
&n
bsp; “Are you fucking serious?” She exclaims, sitting up straight on me.
“I tried to show you my ID earlier.”
It’s as if she’s frozen, as she sits bolt upright on me, her mouth half hanging open.
“Are you going to blink?” I ask, smiling to put her at ease.
Darcy remains still and silent. I suppose that’s normal. I don’t know. I’ve never told anyone who I am, other than Victor, my lawyers and my top-level accounting team.
I mesh my fingers through her hair, pull her against me, and press my lips against hers. Forcing her lips apart, I kiss her as I push my hips up into her, driving my cock deeper into her.
She places a hand on my chest and pushes herself upright again.
“Are you telling me I’ve got the world’s most elusive billionaire inside of me?”
Still gripping her hair, I tilt her head, exposing her neck to me. “I am,” I say, and suck the soft flesh between my teeth.
“This is surreal,” she says.
“This is good. Now move,” I say, and grip her ass, nudging it to spur her from her stillness.
Darcy slowly starts moving on me, circling back and forth and I’m filled with lust again. The worries of me putting her at risk vanish to the back of my mind as my cock screams for more and more of her wet pussy.
I growl through her mouth, and flex my ass to make her bounce on me. Darcy giggles as her ass slaps against my thighs.
She puts her hands on my shoulders to steady herself, giving me a good view of her tits as they jiggle and sway in the fast movement.
Reaching my hand between us, I fumble through her folds and locate her clit. I capture it between my index and middle fingers, and rub over it with my thumb.
Darcy throws her head back and once again stills herself, gasping and moaning. She’s close, I can already feel her walls starting to spasm around me. I breathe air deep into my lungs, knowing I have to pull out but determined not to until she’s climaxed.
Her shoulders rise and shudder, and her body quivers all over as she comes.
“Oh God, Liam,” she moans, the high-pitched words shooting straight from my ears to my cock.
With lightning speed, I release her clit, grab her hips and yank her off me just as my dick starts to spurt. I groan as I shove her, squealing, onto the sofa beside me.
I don’t even bother to catch the mess spewing from my cock, instead I flop back into the sofa and let my feelings for Darcy wash over me.
We sit side by side on the sofa, our chests heaving. The lights of the city shine through the window, reminding me of the greater world outside and the need to get a bodyguard on her as soon as she leaves my home. I’ll send my own to cover her if need be, I rarely use him anyway.
I don’t need to, no one knows who I am. Which is another reason I keep my identity a secret. How else would I be able to move around the city on my own, and meet pretty women at the Fat Kok.
“I can’t believe you’re William Bannerman.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re a legend. The mysterious billionaire no one knows anything about. There aren’t even any pictures of you.”
“Well, now you know the truth. It’s really not that exciting.”
She turns to me and grins, flicks her eyes over my body until they come to a rest on my cock, and says, “I don’t know. So far I’ve found everything about you to be pretty damn exciting.”
“You bring that out of me. Normally, I’m all work.”
“Speaking of work, no one even knows what you do or own.”
“It’s all part of the mystery.”
“Aren’t you going to tell me? Or does the full disclosure you were talking about only include your name?”
Acceptance
(Darcy)
I can’t fucking believe I’m sitting here, naked, with William Bannerman.
Of all the people in the whole world. I knew he was rich from the private jet. And his apartment is out-of-this-world huge and expensive.
But even still, there’s no way I’d expected him to be the secretive billionaire.
The only photos of him are from his high school yearbook and college football team. Forbes lists him as one of the richest men in the country, but only has a few sentences to describe him. They don’t even know all his businesses, because he keeps them hidden in a maze of shell corporations all over the world.
No one knows anything about him, but I’m sitting on his sofa with him, naked.
How does he do it? Live in such isolation in the middle of New York City?
“So, do I call you Liam, or do you prefer William?”
He smiles and says, “I like the way you say Liam.”
“Must be lonely,” I say, touching on my biggest concern for him. I almost feel sorry for him. I do feel sorry for him, believing he has to hide all the time.
“I work most of the time.”
“And when you’re not working, you’re making chocolate truffles?”
“I make chocolates when I need to de-stress.”
“Is that what tonight was? De-stressing?”
Liam bolts upright and snaps at me. “No. Don’t you ever think that.”
“Sorry,” I say, my pulse racing.
His tender smile returns, and he runs his fingers through my hair. “I need you to understand what you are to me, sweetheart. I need to you to know that you’re the only non-business person I’ve ever told this to who I’ve ever invited into my home. I hope you understand what that means.”
I remain quiet, digesting his words. This connection between us is strong, overpowering even, and means as much to him as it does to me. Neither of us was looking for this, but it’s amazing and wonderful and I’m grateful it’s happened.
For a brief moment, my mind wanders to Tanner’s smiling face, and I know this is what he would want, that my happiness is what mattered to him above all else.
Reaching my hand up in front of me, I trace my finger along the image of Tanner’s cheek. By the time I reach his mouth, his image is pixelating and dissolving. It vanishes before I can touch the dimple in his chin.
Liam laces his fingers through my hovering hand, and I shift my gaze to him.
“I understand what you are. Trust me. I never thought the day would come where I’d let myself fall for another man.”
“And yet you are, because it’s too powerful to resist, isn’t it?”
“Exactly.”
Before I even finish saying the word, Liam’s lips are against mine, sending a shock of electricity from my lips to my toes. I could never resist him.
He kisses across my cheek, and in a low voice says, “We need each other.”
I moan in agreement. It’s true, everything Kirsten and my father have been complaining about is right. I died inside when Tanner died, and each day got worse, not better. But here Liam is, pulling and forcing me out of a hole I’d fallen so far down, I never thought I’d get out of it.
“I do, I need you,” I say, my voice a whisper.
He smiles and strokes my cheek.
“More Champagne?” He asks.
I’m torn between using a drink as a way to prolong this moment, and not wanting him to leave the sofa for even a second.
“Yes, please,” I finally say.
Liam wipes himself off with the end of his bathrobe and tops up our flutes out of the same bottle, though it’s not as bubbly as when he first opened it. But he can do it without leaving my side, and for that I’m grateful, regardless of how flat the drink may be.
He draws me into him, and I rest my head on his shoulder, my full glass resting on my thigh.
“So, William Bannerman, what businesses are you in?”
“Bit of this, bit of that. I was being truthful when I told you before, I have lots of companies that I keep under umbrella organizations. Like I said, I own the golf course the wedding was at. I own a lot of golf courses.”
“Forbes got it right when they put you in the top fifty richest in the coun
try?” I tease.
“Actually, I figure I’m about tenth. But who’s counting?” He says with a devilish grin.
I chuckle, and slap his leg while I strain my memory to figure out how much money that is. Thirty billion? Forty? A shit load, that’s for sure. A twinge of guilt hits me over my crass attempt at assessing his wealth, and I change the subject.
“The people running your businesses don’t know who you are, or even who owns the company they work for?”
“Nope.”
“That must take some skill right there,” I say, shaking my head.
“It’s a giant shell game. The senior management teams know me as William or Will or Bill or Liam Jones, but they generally don’t know about each other.”
It takes me a second to realize Liam is another short form of William.
“But you still take an active part in running the businesses?”
“Several of them. The bigger ones anyway. Mostly I look at the portfolio and decide what ones to buy or sell. I also step in and start paying attention when a company’s performance isn’t up to scratch.”
“And you think it’s all worth it, just to keep your identity a secret?”
“Obviously, or I wouldn’t do it, would I?”
Liam stands, leaving me to fall out of my relaxed position. He walks across the room and through the glass door. I watch through the glass wall as he selects another bottle of Champagne, and takes his time removing the foil and the wire cage. With his thumb, he slides off the cork, and bubbles overflow out the mouth of the bottle.
I don’t know whether I’ve offended him or not.
Without glancing up at me, he walks back into the room, carrying two new glasses in one hand and the bottle in the other while bubbles continue to overflow down the side of the bottle and onto the carpet.
“More?” He offers.
Without waiting for a response, he fills a glass and hands it to me. He takes my old, half-full glass and sets it on the end table.
After what seems like far too long a time, he sits back down beside me and pours himself a glass.
Carnal: Pierced and Inked Page 58
