His Eternal Flame
Page 78
I stare blankly at the clothes, glancing to my sister and gesturing to my stomach.
“Ugh. I hate to ask, but do you have one of his shirts here, somewhere?” she asks.
Hesitating for a moment, I nod and shuffle to grab one I’d worn home after one of my early sexual experiences with the billionaire.
“Seems I can’t escape him…” I mumble as I get dressed.
My sister hums absently to acknowledge me, and I glance over to see her swiping her thumb across a cellphone screen. My cellphone screen! I lurch towards her, but by the vaguely amused expression on her face, I can tell the damage has been done.
“Certainly not. Why didn’t you have this with you?” Jenny asks, tossing the phone towards me.
A rather lewd picture of Dillon and me is displayed, and I shoot my sister a dirty look before tucking my phone into my pocket.
“I left it here a few nights ago, and never came back for it. Dillon’s the only one who has been messaging or calling me, anyway,” I say snidely, allowing the implication to hang in the air.
Jenny looks vaguely offended, but it quickly fades to a more abashed look.
“Well…I’m here now, aren’t I?” she huffs.
Unable to stop myself from smiling, I step towards her and pull her into my arms.
“You are, and you have no idea how much I appreciate it. Your twin senses must have gone off,” I tease. “So, what’s this big idea you have? Selling myself to fetish nudie magazines?” I continue, nudging her with an elbow.
Jenny barks out a laugh, shaking her head slowly.
“Not quite. I have a reporter friend who would be rather interested in your story, not to mention those photos…” she begins. I begin to sputter indignantly, but she cuts me off. “Before you say no, actually think about it! You’d get a big payout, and you’d finally get back at that bastard billionaire for all he’s done to you,” she explains, resting a hand on my shoulder.
I hesitate, considering whether I really want to sell my story. It would be nice to get back at the man who broke my heart but…do I really want to hurt him so deeply?
Admittedly, I need some means of making a paycheck. The payout for my story won’t last forever, but it will help me get by until I get another job. Nodding slowly, I allow my sister to lead me to my computer. She boots it up, logging into her own email account and typing out a message to a name I immediately recognize.
“Yasmin? Yasmin Bates? She works for the most popular gossip mag in the city,” I blurt.
Jenny smiles knowingly, clicking on her inbox as she receives a reply almost immediately.
“Yes, and she stands to make a good chunk of change from your story. She’s already replied, letting me know she’s interested. What should I tell her?” she asks.
I grab my phone, adding Yasmin’s email address to my contacts and forwarding the photos to her. My sister gasps before bursting into almost hysterical laughter. The computer dings, and my sister clicks the message she has received.
“What does she think?” I ask with a sly curl of my lips.
“She says she’ll do the job of blacking out your face, but next time you might want to do that ahead of time. Message her the details, and she’ll start working on your story. She also wants to know where you would like the money transferred,” she paraphrases.
I give slight pause, glancing at the message to see how much money I stand to make. My mouth falls open in shock. While it’s no million dollars, it’ll do the job just fine.
“Tell her I’ll come pick up the check whenever it’s convenient for her,” I say urgently.
“Oh, dear sister. You’re looking at a cash payout, here.” Jenny grins.
She types out the message, pressing send before stepping away from the computer.
“Come on. I’ll take you out for lunch, and we can go to the mall to grab a few maternity outfits. As funny as it is to see your jeans hanging under your stomach, I can’t stand to see that scumbag’s shirt on you,” Jenny says.
Nodding obligingly, I follow her out to her car.
Lunch is a quick and simple affair, and we only spend around an hour at the maternity boutique. It will be a few days before my payout is ready, but Jenny is kind enough to buy me a few things to get started. She talks the cashier into letting me wear my new clothes out, and as we step out of the building, I hesitate as she gestures towards a large trash can.
“Throw the shirt away. I don’t think we can burn it in city limits, so I guess it’s the next best thing,” she instructs me with a cheeky grin.
The thought of throwing away Dillon’s shirt sends an unwelcome pang through my heart, but I can’t allow my feelings for him to drag on any more. I don’t plan to let the billionaire haunt my thoughts forever. Approaching the bin, I open the lid before tossing the shirt inside. Jenny cheers, but I feel strangely empty.
“I think I’m ready to go back to my apartment. I’m pretty tired out,” I say quietly, and if she senses the sudden change in my mood, she doesn’t make a big deal of it.
My twin simply takes me by the arm, guiding me to her car. She’s kind enough to help me up the stairs, pressing a kiss to my cheek as we stand just outside my apartment.
“I’ll be back soon, okay? I’ll take you to pick up your check, too. Looks like your car is pretty much a lemon, now.” She smiles, brushing a hand through my hair.
I try not to appear as emotional as I feel, though it is something of a struggle. My sister lingers a moment longer before slipping away. As soon as I’m in my apartment, I fumble to grab my phone out of my pocket. I bring up Yasmin’s email address, sending her a frantic, desperate message.
Exploiting the story is bad enough, but I feel even worse releasing Dillon’s nude pictures to the public. Call me soft, but I don’t want to see him ruined entirely. I’m also not too thrilled about the nation’s women seeing his well-sculpted body that I still long to stake claim on.
Yasmin’s response is swift, but distressing. Apparently, the photos have already been submitted to her superior, or something. Though I have a feeling she could stop them from being printed, I realize she’s not willing to lose the big bucks she stands to make.
Well, ultimately, it serves Dillon right, after what he’s put me through.
Right?
Chapter Fifteen
Dillon
Getting Charlotte out of my mind is easier said than done. Even with the China deal falling to pieces in front of me, all I can think of is what a scumbag I am for leaving her alone. Moreover, I feel like I should have revealed my feelings to her. Now, I’ll likely never have the chance, as I don’t expect she’ll ever speak to me again.
My heart feels as if it’s been shattered into a million pieces. When it comes time to sign the contract that will see the majority of my new business partner’s employees laid off, I hesitate for a brief moment. The pen shakes in my grip, and I can’t force myself to sign the document.
“I have to go,” I say hurriedly, and the other suits stare at me with disbelief in their eyes. Demands to sign the contract assault me in what sounds like a half-dozen languages, but I simply push away from the desk and quickly shuffle out of the room. I grab my phone from my pocket, immediately dialing Charlotte’s number. I realize there’s only a miniscule percent of a chance that she’ll even speak to me, but I have to hear her voice.
I’m only answered by her voicemail. I should give up, but I’m not one to give up on my desires so easily.
I should have made it clear from the start, how much I love her. I shouldn’t have allowed selfishness, cowardice, and malice to come between us. I dial her number again, simply to hear her voice. It’s almost as if she’s with me, her eyes narrowed in irritation. I can imagine her lips pursed in the cutest of pouts, and God, what I would give for her to turn that glare upon me one more time.
Walking the seemingly endless path to the airport where my jet is stationed, I quickly wave down my personal pilots. We aren’t due to leave for another we
ek, at least, but I know the men make routine trips to the airport to check on the jet. They don’t really trust anyone else to take care of it. They seem surprised by my presence, and I’m fortunate to have caught them at such an opportune time.
“Hey, boss,” the shorter of the two, Gavin, calls out, and I rush to meet my pilots before they can step away from the plane.
“Are we in shape to depart now?” I demand, realizing there’s very little time for small talk. The two exchange a glance, but the taller pilot, Kenny, nods hesitantly.
“Don’t you have another week here, Mr. Bradshaw?” he asks slowly, but I ignore the question, shoving past them both and climbing up into the jet.
Gavin and Kenny trail obligingly behind me, and I gesture towards the cockpit.
“I have an emergency back home,” I explain brusquely, though the pilots look as if they’ll continue to ask questions. “We need to leave, now!”
Startled, they nod their agreement before scrambling to the cockpit. I sit in my usual seat, fastening my seatbelt as they prepare for takeoff. We have fourteen hours before we’re back in the United States, but I plan to use every moment to prepare myself for what I’ll say to Charlotte. I have to win her back. Somehow, I must.
Despite my best efforts, I find myself drifting off around halfway through the flight. There’s very little I can do until I’m able to get in touch with Charlotte. If all else fails, I’ll surprise her at her apartment. Even if she doesn’t forgive me, she’s due an apology. The thoughts of what I’ve said to her haunt me during my dozing hours, causing a rather restless sleep.
Jolting awake, I realize we’re only around an hour out from landing. Standing and stretching, I make my way to the cockpit, listening to the pilots as they chat amongst themselves.
“He seems pretty stuck on that broad back home, doesn’t he? You’d think he would’ve picked up a hooker or two while we were overseas to get his mind off her. I have a taste for foreign entertainment myself,” Kenny says crudely, and the two of them share a laugh.
“Aw, man. I think it’s kinda sweet. He doesn’t seem the type to fall in love…or lust, or whatever the hell it is,” Gavin muses, and I roll my eyes before clearing my throat to announce my presence.
I swear the jet gives a noticeable lurch as they notice me, and I’m nearly knocked off my feet.
“Shit! Sorry,” Kenny sputters, getting us back on track relatively quickly.
“What are you doing up? We’re still about an hour out, boss,” Gavin asks smoothly, as if I’ve not just interrupted their discussion of my private life.
“I just came to check in. I’m sorry to have taken you away from your exotic tastes, as it were. If possible, I’m sure I can find a replacement for you…” I trail off, letting the threat hang in the air. “Find a way to get me home in thirty minutes, and I’ll consider letting this little indiscretion slide,” I say coldly.
The men nod, awkwardly silent as I walk back through the cabin. The speed we’re moving at increases, and I glance at my watch with a small smile.
Around forty minutes later, I’m stepping out of the jet and onto the tarmac. My sports car sits waiting for me in the airport parking lot, and I smile to myself as I open the door and slide inside. I try one final time to call Charlotte, but the call goes to voicemail once again.
No matter. I’ve made up my mind. Shifting into gear, I speed down the freeway towards Charlotte’s apartment complex. I’m all in, at this point. I’ll either win her back, or die trying.
A few minutes later, after parking my car and ascending the stairs, I find myself pausing at Charlotte’s door. I have my suspicions that I’m not going to be greeted with anything but rage, but I decide that’s a risk I’m willing to take. I knock on the door, hands fidgeting nervously at my side as I wait for an answer.
“Who is it?” she asks brusquely, peeking out the door.
I smile warmly, and her eyes widen in obvious alarm. She moves to slam the door shut, but I manage to wedge my foot in between the opening before she can close it entirely.
“What are you doing here, Dillon?” she demands, her voice sounding strangely emotional.
“I need to talk to you. I need to see you, Charlotte. Please, just let me inside for a moment,” I implore, resting my palm against the wood surface of her door.
After a moment, she pulls it open and gestures for me to step inside. She’s dressed in an adorable pair of pajamas, and what looks like one of my robes. She fidgets uncomfortably as she waits for me to speak, refusing to meet my gaze.
“I’m listening,” she says quietly.
All the words I’d planned to say evaporate in that moment, and it’s all I can do to keep from lurching towards her and taking her into my arms. Ah, to hell with it.
I reach out to pull her towards me, and she struggles against me for only half a second before pressing her face against my chest. Her shoulders shake, and it’s obvious that she’s struggling to contain her sobs.
“I’m so sorry, Charlotte. For everything I said, the cruel things. I love you. I’ve loved you from the moment I hired you,” I murmur, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.
She stiffens in my arms, and I’m certain I’ve said the wrong thing. She draws away just slightly, looking up at me with tears glimmering in her eyes.
“You…you love me?” she asks, in obvious disbelief.
I nod, brushing the tears away from her eyes. Her mouth falls agape, and overcome with desire, I can’t stop myself from pressing our lips together. She’s still for what seems an eternity, but then she begins to move her lips against my own, desperately clutching my shoulders.
She draws away, gasping for breath. Her skin is flushed, and I can only wonder if she’s missed me as much as I’ve missed her.
“I love you, too. God, Dillon, I love you. I’m sorry about the things I said, and the things I didn’t explain, and—” she begins, but I press a finger to her lips to gently shush her.
“The deal is still on, if you find it agreeable. I made you an offer, and I plan to hold true to it.” I smile, brushing her hair away from her stunning eyes.
She meets my gaze, looking like there’s so much she wants to say. Instead, she nods before capturing my lips once more. She pulls me towards her couch, which seems like it has seen better days, and I’m somewhat curious as to her intent.
“Dillon…can you do something for me?” she asks shyly, pushing the robe off her shoulders slowly.
“Of course, Charlotte. I’ll do anything,” I reply, pulling her into my arms again. I can’t bear to be even an inch apart from her, not after what we’ve gone through. I never want to let her go again.
She shifts to get comfortable in my grip, pulling me down to the couch on top of her. It’s far from the most comfortable surface in the world, but as she wraps her legs around my waist, I realize there’s nowhere I’d rather be.
“Make love to me,” she whispers.
I’m helpless to do anything but oblige. The intense, lustful sex we’ve always had seems miles away—this time, I want to show her how much I cherish her.
As she lifts her shirt over her head, her adorably round stomach is on perfect display. I ghost my palm over the flesh of her baby bump, and she shivers slightly. There is a vulnerability in her gaze that she’s never shown me before.
I reach out to caress one of her swollen breasts in my palm, and she gasps out my name. Lowering my head to her other breast, I take the nipple between my lips and gently flick my tongue against the erect peak.
She throws her head back, and all I can feel is the sheer love I have for her. Arousal even seems secondary to the intensity of my heart’s ache for her.
“You’re so beautiful,” I murmur against her skin, kissing my way down her torso.
She giggles as I flick my tongue against her navel before curling my fingers in the waistband of her pajama pants. She wiggles in anticipation, lifting her hips as I pull the garment down her legs. Surprisingly, she wears nothing und
erneath. Almost as if she’d been expecting me.
She urges me onward with a desperate look, and I trace my fingertips along her inner thigh. There’s a damp heat radiating from her, and unable to resist, I lower my head to taste her. Her breath hitches, and I’m certain I’ve never tasted something so divine in all my years of living. I continue to move my tongue against her slit, eager for more. Her body quakes under my touch, and it’s obvious she’s already growing close.
“Wait!” she cries out, grabbing me by the collar of my shirt.
Wasting no time, she rips the shirt open, buttons flying across the room. My chuckles turn into breathy groans as she kisses my chest, pushing me back. This time, I’m on my back, and she smiles eagerly, pushing my slacks down on my hips until she can free my manhood from my briefs. Before I can speak, she’s hovering above me in the most tantalizing manner possible.
“Charlotte,” I gasp as she lowers herself onto me, her warmth clinging tightly to my girth.
I rest my hands on her round belly, crying out softly each time our hips meet.
“I love you,” she whispers, bouncing at a pace that can be described as nothing but frantic.
Adoration surges through me, as well as another sudden bolt of arousal. I guide her hips as she grows a bit lost in her pleasure, but it’s not long before I’m throwing my head back in pure ecstasy as well.
“I love you too… So damn much,” I breathe, bottoming out inside of her and filling her to the brim.
Her squeal of pleasure is loud and high-pitched, a sound I’ve missed more than I realized. Before I know it, she’s all but collapsed on top of me. Her lips find mine, and I tangle a hand in her hair as we bask in the afterglow.
Distantly, I hear a news story playing on her TV. She seems to hear it as well, going stiff. I’d not even noticed that the TV was on, but as I glance towards it, something seems off.
“Dillon, please,” she says urgently, trying to force my eyes away from the image on the screen.
It’s an image I would recognize anywhere, seeing as it’s a picture of me… well, us. I stare critically at the television, listening closely as the sordid details of our affair are played on national television. I turn to look at her, hurt and disbelief quickly replacing the happiness I’d felt mere moments ago.