No Ordinary Billionaire

by J. S. Scott

  “Oh, God. Dante!” She shuddered and let go of a hoarse cry as her climax seized her body and wouldn’t let go. Riding the waves of pleasure, she gripped the wadded-up blanket, trying to hang on to anything that would keep her from flying off into the stratosphere.

  Moving urgently, he plunged his cock into her from behind as her channel was still clenched from her orgasm. Sarah heard him groan harshly as he buried himself balls-deep inside her. A corresponding moan escaped her lips as he stretched her, making her take every single inch of his cock so deeply that the satisfaction was almost too much to bear. In this position, he went deeper, filled her harder, and he grasped her hips and pounded into her, slapping her ass with every forceful stroke.

  “Come for me,” he commanded, his deep, graveled voice full of uncontrolled arousal.

  Sarah shook her head, her body so aroused, so sensitized that she didn’t think she could come again without losing her mind. “I can’t.”

  Dante grasped a lock of her hair and pulled her head up. “You can, and you will.”

  He insisted that she climax again with every deep thrust of his cock, his groin slapping against her ass with every strong entry. One of his hands left her hip and slid between her thighs, brushing over her clit with rough fingers. Gathering the bud between his thumb and index finger, he pinched her clit lightly, exerting pressure as he slammed into her channel over and over, frenzied.

  Sarah imploded. Her body shuddered hard, her climax pounding through her body, almost in sync with the roaring of the waves hitting the shore. She heard Dante’s coarse, guttural cry as he found his own release, pulling her hips hard against his and burying himself deeply as he growled, “Mine!”

  Her chest heaving, Sarah relished the word, feeling like she’d just been thoroughly claimed.

  Leaning against her back, Dante quickly slipped the knot that was holding her hands and then collapsed on his back, rolling and turning her with his muscular arms around her waist until she was sprawled over his body.

  Sarah could hear Dante’s heart pounding in the same rapid rhythm as hers as she laid her head on his chest. The swaying of the dock and the gentle mist that cooled their heated bodies lulled Sarah slowly back into reality. Dante lifted her chin and kissed her gently, wrapping his arms around her body as they both lay there on the dock, completely sated.

  Finally he spoke huskily, “Sweetheart, you aren’t going to be able to sit down comfortably tomorrow.” He ran his hand gently down her back and caressed her bottom.

  “Your fault for getting so kinky,” she told him with a sigh.

  “I think you have a kinky streak yourself,” he said with a hint of amusement.

  She had to admit, “I think I do, actually. But you said you’d teach me everything. I’m a fast learner.”

  Dante chuckled. “So now you know what happens when you tease me.”

  Sarah smiled. “I think I’ll do it again fairly soon. I think I like it when you go all crazy dominant on me, sexually. Just don’t try going that far outside of our sexual relationship or I’ll knee you in the balls.”

  Dante’s booming laughter rang out in the humid night air, a sound that made Sarah’s heart squeeze tightly in her chest. “I wouldn’t dream of it,” Dante choked out while he was still laughing.

  “Good.” Sarah knew Dante was an alpha male, but he respected her. However, she wasn’t going to complain if he decided he wanted to go completely controlling dominant again in the bedroom someday. He stirred a wildness in her that she had never known existed.

  “Are you cold?” Dante asked, concerned.

  She was damp and had just noticed she was shivering. “A little,” she admitted.

  Dante slipped out from under her and starting picking up his clothing, holding up the remnants of her red dress and tattered panties as he muttered, “I think you’ll need a large supply of these.”

  “I don’t usually wear thong underwear. They annoy me,” she mentioned casually.

  “Then why wear them?” he asked with a frown.

  “Because I wanted to turn you on,” she admitted.

  “Here’s a news flash for you, sweetheart: you turn me on no matter what you’re wearing.” He grinned at her sinfully as he offered her a hand and pulled her to her feet. “Hold these.” He handed her his pile of clothes with his Glock sitting on top of them.

  She looked at the gun and took the pile gingerly. She squealed as he lifted her up in his arms, her body clad in only the garter and stockings. “Careful. I have your gun,” she said nervously.

  “Sorry. I don’t exactly have any place to put it at the moment,” he replied mischievously.

  Sarah laughed as she wrapped one arm around his muscular shoulders and held his bundle with the other. “In that case, I think I’d better hang on to it.”

  Dante strode down the dock, his long legs eating up the distance. Sarah opened the slider and Dante walked in, looking around the house and deactivating the alarm again to give himself time to turn Sarah around so she could lock the door.

  After resetting the security system, they sprinted up the stairs, and he took the pile of clothing from her before lowering her gently to the bed. Then he set his Glock on the nightstand before he knelt and rolled the damp stockings down her legs. He stripped off the wet garter belt and wrapped her in a blanket from the closet. “Better?” he asked anxiously.

  “Better,” Sarah agreed, smiling at him as she wrapped the blanket around her body. Dante was amazing, and had so many beguiling facets to his personality. He had been giving her a rough, screaming orgasm just a short while ago, and now he was showing his nurturing side. There were so many others that it astounded her: dominant, demanding, bossy, tender, sweet, protective, and totally possessive. Each one touched her in a different way.

  She watched as he rummaged through the drawer, pulling out a pair of flannel pajama bottoms and putting them on. Sighing, she mourned as he covered his powerful legs and tight ass. But she still ogled his six-pack abs and muscular chest.

  He’s so damn perfect.

  His bruises had faded, and his other wounds were nearly healed. He’d always have the scar on his cheek, but even that would eventually fade until it was barely noticeable. Dante grew facial hair fast and had a five o’clock shadow well before it was actually five o’clock. Once his face was covered in stubble, the scar wasn’t noticeable at all. Even when it was visible, it just made him more rugged. Men definitely wore their scars better than women.

  “Are my scars really as bad as I see them sometimes?” she asked Dante quietly.

  He sat on the bed beside her, frowning. “How do you see them?”

  “Ugly. Sometimes I don’t think they’re really that bad, and that they healed pretty well. Some of the cuts were jagged, so I know they show. But I guess I see them as glaringly hideous and deforming at times. Emily always swears she can hardly notice them, and only if she’s really looking for them very closely,” she confided.

  “I thought you were over that. I thought you realized that nobody notices them,” Dante rasped. “What changed?”

  “Something my mother said today. It’s not really important. I just wondered.” Sarah wished she hadn’t even mentioned it. For the most part, she was over feeling unattractive because of some of her scars. Dante had helped her considerably not to be self-conscious. Unfortunately, her mother had hit a vulnerable spot today.

  “What did she say?” Dante asked angrily. “Talk to me.”

  “She said that I need an intellectual man to see past my scars, someone who isn’t as interested in sex,” she admitted in a rush.

  “No, you don’t. All you need is me. And I’m very interested in fucking you on a daily basis, more if possible.” He paused before asking, “Do you want the honest truth?”

  Sarah took a deep breath and nodded.

  “I don’t see your scars. I never really have. I thought you were beautiful from the first time I saw you, and that’s never changed and never will. I crave you like
a goddamn addiction, and it wouldn’t matter what kind of scars you had,” he finished solemnly.

  Sarah looked at his earnest, stubborn expression and sighed. “That’s because you’re crazy. The scars are there.” Her heart melted, belying her words. Dante was special, and he already saw past her scars. He always had.

  “Emily’s right. If I try to look at you without a raging hard-on—which almost never happens, by the way—they’re not noticeable.” He tipped her chin up and Sarah looked into the depths of his eyes. He was telling her the truth, his truth. “We all have scars, sweetheart. Some are on the outside, and some are so deep inside us that they never heal. Yours did heal, and they’re a symbol of just how brave and resilient you are. Never be ashamed of them. They’re part of who you are.”

  Dante’s words were so eloquent that it made her want to cry. “Are you forever scarred inside because Patrick died?” Sarah asked gravely, wondering if he’d ever get over the death of his partner.

  “No,” Dante answered honestly. “I still hurt, and I’ll always miss him, but I think he would have wanted me to live my life the best way I can because he can’t anymore. He was a good man who didn’t deserve to die. But I’ll keep taking care of his wife and son the best way I can. I think that’s the best way to honor him.”

  Sarah nodded. “I think so, too. How are they doing?” Sarah knew that Dante called Karen and Ben almost every day.

  “Surviving,” Dante said regretfully. “Karen’s strong for Ben. And Ben’s an exceptional kid. Every day will get easier for them. They have each other.”

  “Did they know you’re a billionaire Sinclair? Did anyone?” She’d wanted to ask him that since the outpouring of pleas had come in through her answering service. Now she understood why everyone had called. Dante Sinclair was an extraordinary man.

  Dante shook his head. “I never wanted anyone to know, and after a while, it wasn’t important. I didn’t want to be judged worthy because of the family I was born into. I wanted to be judged on my own merit.”

  God, he was amazing. Sarah couldn’t imagine any other guy who wouldn’t want to flaunt the fact that he was incredibly rich and born of one of the most prestigious families in the country. “Why do I have a feeling you somehow made sure Karen and Ben were going to be fine for the rest of their lives?”

  “I did. I donated some money to them anonymously. I know Karen. She’ll invest the money, and she’ll have money from the police department. She’ll be fine financially, and Ben will be able to go to any college he wants, pursue his own dreams. Karen’s educated, and she wants to go back to work now that Ben is almost grown.”

  “You’re amazing,” she told him reverently. “Do you miss your job? I know you can’t stay here forever.”

  “I’m staying until this asshole is caught. I’ll be on leave from the department as long as necessary.”

  The thought of Dante leaving ripped her heart to pieces. “It could take forever,” she told him sadly.

  “Then I guess you’ll have to put up with my ornery ass for a very long time,” Dante grumbled.

  She smiled as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her against him. Sarah decided to let tomorrow take care of itself. Dante was a gift to her, and she’d enjoy him while he was still here. She’d never regret being with him or the time she’d spent with him, because Dante had taught her so much, awakened her soul. She would always be grateful to him, even if it meant she’d suffer the pain of disconnecting from him later. Whatever the future outcome, she knew Dante had changed the way she looked at herself and life. Her brain told her that what they had experienced together would have to be enough, even though her heart was telling her something completely different.

  CHAPTER 15

  How the fuck did I let her talk me into this?

  Dante had gotten used to doing some small things in public again with Sarah, but having her go back to teaching her piano classes and playing for the seniors at the youth center was way out of his comfort zone. The center was too damn open, and there were too many places to hide. It was also busy, especially on senior bingo night, and it was always open to the public.

  His arms crossed in front of him, he sat in the fourth row of chairs set up in the music room, his emotions already raw from hearing and watching Sarah play. He’d locked the door after all the seniors had filed in, but he didn’t like having the door at his back. Also, he didn’t care for the fact that he wasn’t closer to Sarah. The eager seniors had arrived early, leaving him farther away than he wanted to be from his woman.

  Glancing at his watch, he knew the impromptu concert would only last about five more minutes, but it was going to feel like a goddamn lifetime for him. Granted, almost everyone in the room was over the age of seventy-five except for Grady, Emily, Jared, and Randi, but he wasn’t worried about who was already in the room. His gut instinct was screaming at him to scoop Sarah up and take her away to a place where he could protect her. If her asshole attacker knew her routine, he knew that she taught classes here and was connected to the center. Dante was pissed off at himself that one look at her pleading violet eyes had made him agree to let her move on with her life. She was right in some ways. It had been a while, the perp still hadn’t been spotted, and she needed a normal life. Unfortunately, reason wasn’t his friend right now. He wanted Sarah to be safe.

  Four more minutes.

  Would he ever get used to Sarah exposing herself in public if Thompson was never captured or killed? He’d spend every single moment of the rest of his life with that niggling, fucking irritating worry, terrified that one small slipup could get her killed. The longer it took to catch the asshole, the more willing Sarah would be to go on with her life. It was exactly what she’d done after the attack, moving to Amesport and starting a new beginning.

  Three more minutes.

  Dante cringed as Sarah moved on her piano seat, causing the garment she was wearing to inch up on her thighs. What the hell was she wearing, anyway? She’d called it a tube dress, but all Dante knew was that she was showing way too much skin and the dress hugged every delectable curve of her body. Starting at the tops of her breasts, the striped one-piece outfit was like a tube that clung to everything from her chest to the middle of her thighs. It wasn’t like he didn’t appreciate the garment, especially the length of time it would take him to get her out of it. One tug and it would slide down to her hips. One more would bring it down to her legs and sliding to the floor. He was good with that. However, he wasn’t crazy about the fact that he could see the outline of her nipples at certain angles, or the fact that he was sitting here rock hard just from hearing her play in that fuck-me dress.

  Two more minutes.

  As usual, Dante was fighting an inner war between his desire to protect Sarah and his desire to make her happy. One look into those fathomless violet eyes of hers had nailed him. Oh yeah, they were really dark blue, but they damn well looked violet to him, and they’d been pleading with him to give her some space to get back to a normal life. When she gave him that look he was completely destroyed. He wondered if she knew that. Probably not. Still, it made him want to give her anything and everything she wanted to make her happy. Problem was, he needed to protect her, too, and he was discovering that it was damn difficult to make her happy and keep her safe at the same time.

  One more minute.

  God, she was beautiful. Dante’s eyes caressed her lovingly as she continued to play like an angel, her face almost glowing with pleasure. Truth was, he already knew he was all-in with this woman and probably had been soon after they’d met. He was looking at his future, and he was surprisingly serene about that fact. This complex, amazingly intelligent, beautiful, sexy female had turned his life and his emotions upside down, but she belonged with him. There was no way in hell he could live without her anymore, and he didn’t plan to.

  Time’s up. Thank fuck!

  Right on time, the concert ended so all of the silver-haired ladies could scurry off to senior bingo. There were
choruses of appreciative words called to Sarah as they filed out, the room emptying quickly. Dante breathed a sigh of relief as he stood by the door, watching to make sure nobody entered. Emily and Randi went to join Sarah, while Grady and Jared stepped out the door to talk about a new project Grady was working on.

  Everything changed in an instant.

  One moment Dante was caught by Elsie Renfrew to say hello, and the next he turned back to Sarah to see a sight he’d only ever envisioned in his nightmares: John Thompson using Sarah as a shield, the barrel of a 9 mm pistol to her head. It had happened in a split second. Where in the hell had the bastard come from? He was guarding the door, and he’d searched every inch of the room before Sarah’s performance.

  “One wrong move from anybody, and she’s dead, her brains splattered all over this room, along with the rest of her friends,” Thompson screeched hysterically.

  Dante froze, taking in the situation in seconds. Emily and Randi were flanking Sarah and the gunman, neither of them moving, both afraid the asshole would kill Sarah. Dante’s Glock was within reach, so close, but he didn’t have a clear shot, and he couldn’t be sure he wouldn’t hit one of the women if he shot in haste. They were all too close, and Sarah was being used as human armor. Dante was damn fast with a gun, but not so fast that a psychotic gunman with a twitchy trigger finger couldn’t kill Sarah before he could get a shot off. And even if he did kill the bastard, the gun in Thompson’s hand might still discharge.

  “Get out and close the fucking door. Lock it or she dies,” Thompson demanded in a high-pitched, frantic voice.

  Dante could see the fear in every one of the women’s eyes, but not one of them moved. His heart thundering against his chest wall, he stepped back as he saw the slight tightening of the man’s grip on the pistol. He met Sarah’s eyes and she subtly nodded, silently telling him to do what Thompson demanded.

  There was nothing Dante wanted more than to pull his gun and shoot the bastard right between his beady, crazed eyes, but he didn’t. He took in every detail he could about the man holding Sarah hostage while he was slowly closing the door: his skinny frame, the wild-eyed look on his face, the scruffy brown beard he was growing, the shoulder-length greasy hair, and the orange T-shirt and torn jeans that were littered with stains.