The Billionaire's Bluff

by Nella Tyler

  "It sounds lovely," I said, meaning it.

  "It's got the Jolly Roger Pier, which I thought we could walk along and explore after we finish our picnic lunch-"

  "You packed a picnic?" I asked, surprised. He nodded and glanced at me with a smile.

  "Not as fancy as the chef might have prepared, but I still know how to fry chicken and whip up a mean potato salad. Sound okay to you?"

  Again, I was impressed. This was such a different aspect of him. The other evening, he had taken me out to one of the fanciest and most expensive restaurants in the city, and seemed to know a lot about the fine dining items on the menu. Now we were going for picnic and he himself had made fried chicken and potato salad. I shook my head. Would the real Luke Benning please stand up?

  "Anyway, from what I gather, the locals don't call it a Topsail, but Tops’l, the way they said it way back when pirates used the island to hide their ships behind. The problem was the land is so flat that their topsails were still visible from the sea. At least, that's the rumor."

  “I see you’ve done your homework," I commented, smiling. It sounded like we were going to have a good afternoon.

  He nodded. "I did. I even found out that before the Second World War, you could only get to Topsail Island by taking a boat. It’s still one of the most popular picnic areas in the state. In fact, I read that Blackbeard’s famous, and lost, treasure is rumored to be somewhere in the forests and sand and sea grasses on the island." He laughed. "Maybe we'll get lucky and find it."

  I laughed. "Maybe we will."

  We arrived at the beach, and to my delight, he opened the back of the Jeep and pulled out a honest-to-goodness picnic basket and a red and white checked fuzzy blanket. Just the idea of a picnic on the beach was thrilling and invigorating to me. It was special. He had put some thought into it. Anyone could go to a fancy restaurant and spend a bunch of money on food and wine, but something like this? Something that he had thought about and figured I would enjoy? That was even better.

  Draping the blanket over his arm and grasping the picnic basket handle with one hand; he reached his other hand for mine. Together we walked through the sand toward the beach. It wasn't too crowded and we wandered near a couple of small sand dunes topped with seagrass waving gently in the sea breeze. The sound of seagulls squawking overhead and the sight of a pelican flying close to the water seeking his next meal left me enthralled. We walked about one hundred yards in the sand and I was just about ready to take off my shoes and socks when Luke gets gestured and pointed.

  "This look like a good spot to you?"

  I nodded and he placed the picnic basket on the sand and then unfolded the blanket, shook it out, and I laid it out carefully on the ground almost in the shadow of one of the sand dunes. He made a grand gesture of bowing.

  "Your seat, my lady," he grinned.

  I laughed, suddenly feeling playful. I made a slight curtsy, nodded to him, and muttered a stuffy, "Thank you, sir," before sitting down cross-legged on the blanket.

  In moments, he had removed the food, carefully wrapped in tinfoil or plastic containers –fried chicken, potato salad, grapes, and already peeled orange slices. He said he wasn't sure what I wanted to drink, so he had packed water, regular and diet soda, and a bottle of wine. I saw the wine, lifted an eyebrow and glanced at him, and he grinned.

  "Does that mean we’re not having any wine?"

  "You've got that right, Luke," I said. "No wine for me." I gestured to a water bottle. "I'll take that."

  He laughed, handed me the water bottle, and then tucked the bottle of wine back into the picnic basket. I was pleased that he didn't seem bothered in the least. Maybe he had brought it along just as a joke, to clear the air. After all, I think it was the alcohol that had tipped me over the edge in the first place. I think he got that.

  It turned out to be a wonderful time and I enjoyed the hours we spent and the food we ate even more than I had the other night when he had taken me to the fancy restaurant. This was more relaxing, more conducive to building a friendship. We did a lot of talking, watching the sea birds, laughing at the antics of children running up and down the beach, and trying to keep blowing sand out of our food.

  I must say that I began to feel more relaxed than ever and pretty soon I wasn't even embarrassed any longer about the sex we had shared. He was a nice guy, somewhat self-deprecating at times, but he was displaying a great sense of humor. It seemed to me that he enjoyed my company as much as I enjoyed his. As we commented on things that amused us, or things that we spotted, I got the impression that he liked being outdoors. That was good, because I did, too.

  I gradually gained a better sense of the depth that encompassed Luke Benning. Out here, away from the mansion, he didn't seem so much a fish out of water. I got a sense of the happy-go-lucky and relaxed Luke Benning that he must've been before money had probably changed his life – not always for the better.

  Sitting out there on the blanket, digging our toes into the sand and feeling the ocean breeze heavy with the scent of the sea as it brushed through my hair, I felt as if we were on a real, honest-to-goodness date. To my surprise, that thought brought me a great deal of pleasure.

  By the time we finished eating, I was completely relaxed. I loved the smell of the ocean, but I didn't necessarily like to go in it. I watched while he pulled off his loafers and rolled up his khaki pants to his knees. He walked down to the water, just letting it lap around his ankles. He stood staring out at the ocean for several minutes while I, still sitting on the blanket, admired the view – both of him and the ocean beyond.

  When he turned around and returned to the blanket, he wore a serious expression. After his initial apology when he had picked me up at the park, our conversation had been lighthearted. We'd gotten to know a little bit about each other, at least in regard to likes and dislikes, just the basics, really. Now I wondered what was going through his mind. He sat down on the blanket across from me, cross-legged, leaning back on his hands. I watched him watch me and was about to ask him if something was wrong when he spoke.

  "Molly, there’s something else that I need to apologize about. You see, as I can imagine you've probably surmised this whole thing with my inheritance is new to me. In fact, everything feels very new to me. I'm sorry if I've been acting like a jerk. I certainly don't mean to. It's just that…"

  He said nothing for a moment, and I really wanted him to know that I understood. "I kind of did get the feeling that you might be a little overwhelmed with it all. After all, not many people come into money like that."

  He gave me a look. I quickly explained. "Luke, gossip travels around Raleigh faster than you can imagine." Of course, I didn't tell him that I had tried to Google him, but what I said was true enough. "I heard through the grapevine that you come into quite a bit of money, so it's no wonder why you're feeling a little overwhelmed. It’s perfectly understandable."

  He frowned. "Was it that obvious?"

  He seemed a little miffed, but I wasn't sure if he was miffed at me because I had mentioned it or because his behavior had been so transparent. Then again, maybe I had just overstepped my bounds again. Still, as far as I was concerned, the boundaries between us were terribly blurred. Should I speak to him as a maid to the employer or as a friend? Or a girlfriend? Was I a girlfriend? I had no idea. Just when I was about to tell him that I shouldn't have said anything, he spoke.

  "Thank you, Molly, for being honest. That's one thing that I have noticed the most since I inherited this money. For some reason, people hesitate to tell you what they really think. They only tell you what they think you want to hear. I'm really tired of it, and I wish people could just speak their mind and not worry about what I think. So what? I'm rich? That doesn't have to change who I am does it?"

  I shook my head. "Of course not, Luke. But you also have to understand that the majority of wealthy people, not only around Raleigh, but anywhere, do feel superior."

  "Do you feel that way about me?"

  How
to answer that? "Luke, I’m your maid-"

  "I'd like you to be more than that," he said.

  My heart skipped a beat. He did? Once again, he seemed to be able to read my thoughts.

  "Of course, that depends on you." He shook his head, and then sighed and rolled his eyes. "There I go again, being pompous. I suppose I should have already asked you if you're married."

  "No, I’m not" I replied. But what if I had been? Did he think that I would have accepted his invitations to swim, to dinner, to have sex with him, or even go to the beach today due to the fact that I was obligated to hold onto my position? I frowned.

  "You have a boyfriend? A significant other?"

  Again I shook my head. "No, Luke, I'm not involved with anyone at the moment. But I suppose I don't have to tell you that in many situations, wealthy employers do take advantage of their staff. In many cases, staff members feel compelled to accept…well, unsavory invitations in order to save their job."

  He stared at me for several moments. "You don't feel that way about me, do you?" He sat up, brushing the sand from his hands. "Molly, I don't ever want you to feel obligated to accept or do anything with me that you don't want to, okay?"

  That made me feel a little better. I nodded.

  "I don't care if you're my maid and I'm your employer," he continued. "As far as I'm concerned, we’re on equal ground, okay?"

  "But it doesn't work that way, Luke," I tried to explain. "You see-"

  He shook his head. "Molly, I know that a lot of rich people are stuck-up snobs and they treat their staff horribly. I want you to know right now that I will not, and will never behave in such a manner, and I don't care how much money I have." He stared down at his hands for a moment, interlacing his fingers. "Molly, what I could really use right now is a friend…a girlfriend…you seem to have a good head on your shoulders, you're beautiful, and you're a desirable young woman. What's not to like about you? But I want you to know that if you don't want me to pursue my interest in you, you can tell me. It'll be okay. I'll be disappointed, of course, but believe me; your job will not be in jeopardy. We'll work it out somehow."

  Chapter 6

  All in all, I had a wonderful afternoon. Luke had been more personable than I had ever seen him, and I believed that we had connected on a different level than before. Away from the mansion, it was like he was a different person. Maybe that was the entire problem for him; he figured that he had to become someone else just because all of a sudden he was rich. I wish there was a way that I could assure him that that was not the case. Yes, there were some expectations when it came to the wealthy, but nobody should have to give up their true persona or personality because of it.

  "Do you want me to take you home now or would you accept my invitation to come back to the mansion for a glass of wine?"

  I gave him a look.

  "A small glass of wine," he amended with a smile.

  I was having such a nice time that I didn't really want the afternoon to end just yet. I would just have to be firm when it came to imbibing in anything, including an innocent and small glass of wine. I nodded. "Sure, that sounds like a nice way to end what has turned out to be a wonderful day," I smiled.

  We drove back to Raleigh in comfortable silence. The sun, the ocean breeze, the relaxation, and the good food had made me feel sleepy and I didn’t really want to talk. He seemed comfortable with the silence, as well, so that was good. He turned the radio on low, some pop station, and I leaned my head back against the seat, riding most of the way gazing out the window and letting my memory replay the entire afternoon.

  We pulled up to the house in his Jeep and, ever the gentleman, he got out and then opened my door for me. The afternoon sun was dipping slowly toward the west and I felt tired, but relaxed, ready to go home, fix myself a salad or something for dinner, and then just lounge around reading or watching TV. First though, to cap off the afternoon date and the lovely time at the beach, I figured one small glass of wine wouldn't hurt. I would stay a half an hour at most.

  No one was inside the house when we entered, and Luke invited me back to the kitchen. The chef had left it spotlessly clean, as usual. Luke looked over his shoulder as he opened the refrigerator.

  "Have you ever had Riesling?"

  I shook my head. He extracted a green bottle of chilled wine. White. He reached into a cupboard, pulled out two long stemmed wine glasses, and then poured a small amount in each glass. I had sat down at the small kitchen table, where he joined me. We tapped glasses and then I took a careful sip. I lifted my eyebrows. "This is really good," I commented. "It's light, but it has a wonderful flavor."

  "You know, Molly, I had a wonderful time with you today. I hope we can do it again."

  I smiled, warmed inside and out not only by the wine, but by his compliment. "I don't see why not," I said.

  After about five minutes of not so important chitchat, I finished off my wine. He rose from his chair and stepped to the counter, picking up the bottle and heading back toward the table. He gave me a look and I nodded. "One more." He smiled as he poured, and then refilled his own glass.

  I had a fairly certain idea where imbibing might lead again, but to be honest with myself, I was having a good time and I might as well just make the most of it for now. I wouldn't allow myself to get drunk or to have so much to drink that it would impede my judgment.

  "How would you like to go sit in the Jacuzzi for a little while?" he asked. "Soothe that mild sunburn I see on your arms and get rid of some of the sand?" As he said that he brushed his hand through his hair. "No matter how careful I am to brush the sand off me before I get into my car, I always find some when I get back home, don't you?"

  I laughed. I knew exactly what he meant. What the heck? I already had a bathing suit, and sitting for a while in the Jacuzzi sounded like fun – the ultimate in relaxation. It wasn't often that I got the chance to be so indulgent, so I nodded.

  "Your bathing suit is hanging in the bathroom of the spare bedroom upstairs," he said. "While you get changed, I’ll do the same and meet you down here in a few minutes, okay?"

  I nodded, finished off my wine, and watched as he reached for the bottle again. "No, no more for me, thank you," I said. "I'll be right back."

  In a matter of moments, I was upstairs, heading toward the spare bedroom. "What are you doing, Molly?" I muttered to myself. "You know where this is heading, don't you?" The truth was, I did. A little making out at the least. Just the thought of making out with Luke and kissing him again caused a tingle of anticipation to surge through my veins. It'd been a wonderful afternoon, and there was no harm in a little make out session, was there?

  *

  The only problem was that our little make out session in the Jacuzzi turned out to be a little more involved than that. Before I knew it, we were both divested of our bathing suits, our hands exploring each other's bodies in the warm, bubbly water. I sat straddled on his lap, the Jacuzzi jets creating bubbling foam between us, my breasts pressed close against his chest. We kissed, deep, long, and wet. My tongue tangled with his. His erection was pressed against my lower abdomen. He groaned low in his throat, and it was all I could do to hold myself in check.

  He tried to push me onto his erection, but I shook my head and leaned back. "Protection, Luke," I said.

  He nodded in understanding and wrapped his arms around me, kissing the living daylights out of me for several more minutes. Every part of my body throbbed with sexual tension and anticipation.

  "Let's go upstairs to my room," he suggested.

  My legs felt like noodles as we climbed out of the pool. He handed me a towel and I quickly draped it around me while he did the same, wrapping one around his waist. His erection created a little tent at the front of his towel and I laughed. We hurried into the house and padded up the stairs, laughing and giggling like little kids as we headed for his bedroom.

  Forgotten was my desire to go home, to spend time by myself reliving the day. So much for cooling things off or taking
things slow. I laughed out loud when he dove for his bed and it bounced and creaked with his weight. The towel fell from around his waist. I looked my fill and smiled when his penis seem to gravitate toward me, as if appreciative of the attention. He reached for the drawer of his bedside table and retrieved a foil packet. He ripped it open, rolled the condom over his hard shaft, and then laid back, his arms extended toward me.

  "Ready when you are," he said.

  Boy, was I ready. Dropping my towel, I climbed onto the bed and straddled him, much like I had in the Jacuzzi. Balancing my hands on his strong, broad shoulders I positioned my hips just above his. Then, slowly and with exquisite pleasure, I lowered myself down onto his erect shaft. I was hot and ready for him. I tilted my head back, reveling in the sensations and my back arched, thrusting my breasts forward. When he had filled me completely, I leaned forward for several moments, skin to skin, my breasts pressed against his chest, my mouth pressed against his lips.

  We kissed long and hard. My blood literally boiled with passion. As my hips began to rock, he tilted his head down, urging me up just slightly. He took one of my nipples in his mouth and suckled. I groaned in exquisite pleasure. He lathed first one nipple and then the other. Soon, his hips began to rock in pace with mine and I totally lost control. He filled me completely, every thrust of his hips sending a wave of pleasure through me. It wasn't long before I began to feel the culmination of my pleasure, and I felt him accelerate his pace a bit, as well as the force of his thrusts.

  I was amazed that we climaxed at the same time. My muscles tightened around his shaft as I felt the waves of his orgasm. We were both breathing hard and then I was tipped over the edge, filled with such a great sense of warmth, pleasure, and bliss that I was left feeling rather astounded. By the time the waves began to ebb, I collapsed onto his chest. He pulled out of me, quickly removed his condom, and then urged me to flip onto my side. I did and we spooned. In a matter of moments, I fell into a deep and contented sleep.