All That He Desires (The Billionaire's Seduction Part 2)

by Thorne, Olivia

  I realized that I wanted so badly for that not to be a metaphor.

  “So… do we have a deal?”

  I sat back in the chair and took a sip of wine. “Break out the cards,” I said in my best bring it on voice.

  If only I actually felt that confident.

  8

  As it turned out, he had to call down to the concierge for a pack of cards.

  “And another bottle of wine. And another table, with a selection of fruit and chocolate,” he said into the phone before hanging up.

  My mouth started to water. I had only eaten about half my dinner – not only had the conversation gotten distracting, but I was a little worried about pigging out and then having to strip down naked.

  But offer me chocolate, and all bets are off.

  Connor looked me over appraisingly. “Thinking of your questions? Or thinking about what I’ve got in store for you?”

  Yes. And yes.

  Damn it, I hate how he can tell what I’m thinking – especially when I don’t want him to know.

  “No, I’m cataloguing how many pieces of clothing I’ve got on,” I lied.

  Hey, nobody said anything about lying outside of the game.

  He chuckled. “Well, most of the clothes will come off before I begin to have my way with you, so…”

  Have my way with you.

  I crossed my legs again, both from nervousness and being uncomfortably turned on.

  I tried to regain the upper hand.

  “You’re, uh, at a little bit of a disadvantage there,” I said, wiggling my finger at his shirt. “Sure you don’t want to put on your jacket and tie again?”

  “I don’t think so. I’m an excellent poker player.”

  My stomach dropped a little in fear… because I’m not.

  “That confident, huh?”

  “That confident,” he smiled in that arrogant, dashing, ‘makes me want to kick his ass’ kind of way.

  Someone knocked at the door. “Room service,” a muffled voice called out.

  Connor got up from his chair. “Think I should call Johnny for protection?”

  Ah… THERE’S a good question… why do you have an armed bodyguard in the first place?

  “He’d probably prefer it,” I said.

  “Too bad,” Connor answered.

  I expected him to look at the little eyehole, but things were a bit more high tech than that. He hit a button on a small screen next to the door, and the image of a man in a white uniform appeared. Connor opened up, and a man in white swept into the room with a rolling table identical to the first: linen tablecloth, silver domed dishes, wine glasses, lit candles, decanter of dark red liquid. The only thing different was a pack of cards still in the wrapper.

  He parked the new table, took the old one, and hustled out of the room. Connor murmured something to him before he closed the door.

  “Another hundred dollar tip?”

  I said it casually, but inside I was like, Daaaaamn! I wish I worked someplace they gave out hundred dollar tips…

  “Something like that.”

  “Why the decanter of wine? Why not just a bottle?” I asked as I lifted up the silver dome on my side of the table.

  Oh sweet Lord…

  There was a gorgeous selection of chocolates within. What brand, I had no idea, but there were spheres dusted with cocoa, wafers black as night, round circles drizzled with some sort of syrup, and broken pieces – for that artisanal look, I guess, like fancy paper with rough texture and bits of coarse pulp woven into the grain.

  Not only that, but there were two types of cherries, ripe and dotted with moisture; green, red, and tiny little champagne grapes; and a bowl of raspberries and blackberries lightly sprinkled with sugar.

  Even if I didn’t get laid again tonight, I could still have an orgy with what was on that silver tray.

  “Is that one of your questions?”

  “What?” I said, snapped out of my chocolate fantasy.

  “The bottle versus decanter – is that one of your questions? Because we haven’t started yet,” he said with a smartass smirk.

  “Just making conversation,” I said coolly, “but if you don’t know – ”

  “You have to aerate the wine to get all the subtleties out of it. There’s actual chemical reactions that occur in the presence of air that unlock the flavors. The decanter helps do that.”

  “Aren’t you just a font of information,” I cooed. “I had no idea you were such a connoisseur.”

  “I am.” He smiled and locked his gaze deep into mine. “And I’m all about savoring the experience.”

  Heat fluttered in my belly, and I held my breath. Which wasn’t much of a comeback, I’ll grant you.

  He ripped open the cellophane package, pulled out the Jokers, and tossed them aside.

  “No wild cards?”

  I had kind of been hoping they would help me out.

  He rolled his eyes. “No. No training wheels.”

  I pretended to pout as he shuffled the cards, but then I got mesmerized by his hands sorting the cards. They were so fast, and so capable… so large and powerful…

  He slid the deck over to me. “Cut?”

  “Uh… what?”

  “Cut the deck? Unless you’re not worried that I’m a card shark.”

  I took a third of the cards off the top and replaced them on the bottom. “No, I’m not. And it’s technically a card sharp.”

  “Ooooh… aren’t you a font of information,” he said mockingly.

  I pushed the cards across the table. “Deal.”

  The first hand ended quickly: I won with two pair, aces and nines.

  He looked at me expectantly as he shuffled the cards again. “So… what will it be? Question or clothing?”

  I looked at his firm chest peaking out beneath the ‘v’ of his unbuttoned shirt, and my mouth started to water… but I wanted to know a few things first.

  Plus, I figured, his shirt’s coming off sooner or later anyway.

  “Question.”

  “Okay… just be sure that whatever you ask, you can handle the answer,” he cautioned me with a friendly smile.

  For some reason, that filled me with a little dread. But I pushed on anyway.

  “Why is Johnny so concerned about your safety?”

  “He’s my bodyguard.” He grinned. “That was easy.”

  “That’s no answer,” I snapped. “You promised you’d give me the truth.”

  “I did,” he insisted.

  When I continued to glower at him, he relented. “There have been some attempts on me in the past.”

  My eyes bugged out. “‘Attempts’? What kind of ‘attempts’?”

  “Mostly kidnapping,” he said casually as he dealt out the next hand.

  I beckoned with my fingers like, SPILL it.

  He tilted his head back so it rested on his chair, then sighed and stared at the ceiling. “I thought you were going to ask things like, ‘How many women have you slept with?’”

  “I’m not sure I could handle that answer.”

  He grinned, which seemed to break his suddenly dark mood, and looked back down at the cards. But not at me, I noticed.

  Then the grin went away and his voice dipped lower as he answered.

  “My father was kidnapped five years ago in Mexico. I was the one who went to the ransom meeting, not sure if I was going to get killed or kidnapped, and worried sick the entire time that I’d never see him alive again. Even though I hate the old bastard.”

  A chill went up and down my spine as he spoke. I hadn’t prepared myself for this.

  I don’t think he had, either.

  “Is he… is he okay?” I whispered.

  Connor looked up with a bemused expression. “He’s fine. Still a total asshole, still making everyone around him miserable. Shortly after that incident, I hired Johnny. He’s never left my side since.”

  He paused for a second.

  “Sometimes I forget why I hired him… like toni
ght.” He tapped the table and muttered, almost to himself, “Sometimes it’s good to remember.”

  Then he gave a wry smile and picked up his cards. “Prepare to get naked.”

  9

  As it turned out, I won the next hand, too. Three jacks.

  “Damn it,” he swore, throwing down his cards.

  “You know what that means,” I said.

  “Clothing, right?” he asked in a fake hopeful voice.

  I shook my head ‘no.’

  He breathed out heavily, then smirked. “Well, I guess I used up all my luck earlier tonight when I got lucky.”

  When I got lucky.

  Holy crap.

  That was something I would say about sleeping with him… not something I would expect him to say about sleeping with me.

  The butterflies were twirling up a storm in my stomach, but I kept to the plan.

  “You don’t work for LMGK, do you?”

  LMGK was an international consulting firm with worldwide branches – and whom Connor had claimed he worked for. They were supposedly interested in buying out the much smaller company I worked for, Exerton Consulting.

  “No, I don’t.”

  My insides twisted. Though I felt like I had known all along – I mean, what VP has a private Bentley limo, a bodyguard, and rents penthouse suites at a moment’s notice in the most expensive and exclusive hotel in LA? – hearing the answer felt like a punch to the stomach.

  “Then everything you said was a lie?!” I cried out.

  Not only did I feel like a fool, but I was starting to panic. I had just let some complete stranger rifle through confidential company files, never bothering to check out his story.

  I might not just lose my job; I might be facing a lawsuit. Or criminal charges. Or both.

  He started laughing, which infuriated me. I got up out of my seat.

  “Hey – hey,” he said, catching my arm and stopping me. “I wasn’t lying to you, ‘Lily Ross’ – I was using a cover story to get past the gatekeepers, that’s all. Some security guard and secretary I’d never met. It wasn’t personal.”

  It sure felt personal. And there was another, bigger problem.

  “But – but I let you look at stuff you shouldn’t have seen!” I cried out in anguish.

  “You’re forgetting that the CEO of your company gave me permission over the phone,” he said in a soothing voice. “You heard him. And your boss, when given the choice of doing it himself or pawning it off on you, decided to go get drunk instead.”

  Oh yeah… I’d forgotten about that…

  I’d heard David Westerholtz, the CEO of Everton Consulting, give Connor carte blanche on looking at internal company files. I was completely off the hook for anything that happened.

  Theoretically.

  “But… you lied to Westerholtz!” I cried out.

  “I think this qualifies as more than one question.”

  I shot him a few daggers with my eyes.

  “Okay, okay,” he laughed. “Just sit down.”

  I lowered back into my chair, my knees trembling.

  “I’m actually one of the primary stockholders of LMGK. I also own a small stake in Exerton. Anything beyond that, you’re going to have to infer, since it would violate that whole ‘non-disclosure’ and business deal clause I gave you earlier.”

  My eyes grew wide – but it made a whole lot more sense. If he owned a ton of stock in LMGK, that meant he was pretty damn rich. And Bentleys and bodyguards and penthouses made a lot more sense for a pretty damn rich guy than for a VP of a company.

  “So you’re involved in the possible acquisition of Exerton – ” I began.

  “Ah,” he cautioned, holding up a hand. “Infer it inside your head. Not only can I not talk about it, but it’s boring, and I’m in the middle of playing strip poker with a beautiful woman.”

  Beautiful woman.

  My heart thumped again, and I blushed slightly.

  “I know why I’m losing, though,” he said as he shuffled the cards. “There’s no room to bluff.”

  “What?”

  “Bluffing. I’m good at it. In business and in life, I’m good at taking a crap hand and making other people think it’s outstanding.”

  Insanely good looks, rich, probably from a moneyed family… well-endowed…

  I blushed a little thinking about it.

  …I think you got dealt a pretty GOOD hand in life, Mr. Connor Brooks.

  “I can’t bluff with the way the game’s set up,” he continued. “It’s a straight ‘best hand wins’ scenario.”

  “You made up the rules,” I retorted.

  “Well, how about this: before we reveal our cards, we have to decide whether to stay in or fold. If you fold, you automatically lose, but only one piece of clothing…”

  “…or one question,” I reminded him.

  “Or one question,” he agreed. “But if you decide to stay in and you lose, you lose two pieces of clothing.”

  “Or two questions.”

  “Or one question, one piece of clothing.”

  Hmmmm… ask a question, AND get to see some skin… that could be good…

  I was learning a lot about Connor, but I did want to see him naked again.

  “But you’re good at bluffing. I’m not,” I protested.

  “You need to give me a chance to catch up.”

  “You have just as much clothing on as I do,” I pointed out.

  “Come onnnn…” he said, and gave me ridiculously over-the-top puppy-dog eyes, like he was begging for a treat.

  I want a treat, too, I thought.

  “Fine.”

  10

  I lost right off the bat. And I stayed in, which was stupid. But I thought I was fine – I had two pair, and I’d won with that earlier.

  He, unfortunately, had three of a kind.

  “I don’t suppose you want to ask two questions,” I said, already knowing the answer.

  “Nope,” he grinned. “Start taking it off.”

  I grimaced… then kicked off my high heels. “One, two,” I smiled sweetly.

  “Oh well, we’ve got to start somewhere.”

  Then I lost again. This time I folded, though, so I only lost a bracelet I was wearing.

  “This is not going well.”

  “It’s going great for me,” he grinned.

  Then he won again.

  I was sure I had him beat – a low straight! – but he had a flush.

  Damn it!

  “I’d like to see a little something more come off than just jewelry.”

  “Too bad,” I said, removing my earrings.

  Next hand, I got nothing. I was trying for a straight… but I didn’t get it. 5,6,7,8… and a Jack.

  But the bluffing thing might work…

  “I’m in,” I said, staring him down.

  He grinned. “You sure?”

  “Yes.”

  “You absolutely sure?” he grinned, enjoying himself immensely.

  “Yes,” I insisted, trying not to let my voice falter.

  He laid down his cards. He didn’t have anything, either.

  “Tie,” I said, as I laid down mine.

  “High card wins,” he said, tapping his Ace of Hearts. “Two pieces of clothing.”

  Crap. Crap, crap, CRAP.

  I didn’t have anything else ‘harmless’ to take off.

  I guess I could slip off my underwear and keep on my clothes…

  Don’t be silly. He’s already seen you naked.

  And liked what he saw, apparently.

  But my cheeks were still scorching hot as I tried to decide what to do.

  “I’m waaaaiiiiiting.”

  I glared at him, then began to unbutton my blouse.

  Thank God the lights were already down low. I was hoping the candlelight would be forgiving.

  His eyebrows rose slightly, and his eyes stared at my breasts and bra.

  Like he was starving, and somebody was putting food right in front of him –
but not letting him touch.

  To tell the truth, despite my embarrassment at being half-naked and on display, his open show of desire was turning me on.

  I peeled off the blouse and stood up. I unzipped my skirt a little.

  He just watched, mesmerized… but his lips parted slightly, and I could see him swallow.

  I was so turned on – I loved the idea that this gorgeous, rich, powerful man really, actually wanted me – that I tried to make it a little sexier. I worked my hips back and forth a little, slowly tugging the skirt down, bit by bit, over and over, until the skirt fell to the floor.

  He couldn’t peel his eyes away.

  In fact, he crossed his legs, and I saw his hand move down to his fly as he rearranged himself.

  I was making him hard.

  Heat flushed through my entire body.

  I wanted to go over there right now and make him do things to me…

  …but I wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction.

  Not yet.

  “Enjoy the show?” I said in what I hoped was a seductive voice.

  He took a second to answer… and for his eyes to raise to meet mine.

  “Yes,” he said hoarsely.

  A shiver went up and down my body.

  I smiled. “Just so you know, I’m winning the next hand.”

  11

  And I did. He even tried to bluff me – or maybe he thought he could win. But my three queens beat his two pair.

  “Damn it, I wanted to see more,” he growled, staring at my breasts again.

  “There’ll be time.”

  “So… two pieces of clothing?” he asked, both hopeful and mocking at once.

  I considered.

  “One question, one piece of clothing.”

  “Which one first?” he asked with a seductive little smile.

  “The question.”

  “Go for it.”

  I knew I shouldn’t ask it… I knew I was asking for trouble, for heartache, for a swift kick to the gut…

  …but I had to know. And it was going to keep on driving me crazy if I didn’t ask.

  “How many women have you slept with?”

  He stared at me, sphinx-like, and didn’t answer for a second. When he did, his face was a blank slate, and his voice was carefully controlled. “Are you sure you want to ask that?”