“Ah mon dieu…I’m coming!” she screamed and I took her hips firmly in my hands to press myself all the way inside her while her pussy contracted with pleasure. Then I picked her up while I was still inside her and held her body close as I stood up on my feet. I held her like that and started fucking her as if she was some kind of life sized sex toy. It wasn’t long before I felt myself getting closer to a climax. Then I gave her one final deep shove and broke my own cardinal rule by offloading my hot sperm into her warm body. I just couldn’t care to play by my own self-imposed rule of never coming inside a woman in that moment. We fell onto the couch together and lay like that for a while before Vivienne stood up to go and fetch us a glass of orange juice from the kitchen.
“Here, drink this. You will need your strength for the rest of the evening,” she said and handed me a glass of orange juice.
I took the orange juice from her and drank it down in one thirsty gulp. “I really like our little mansion of fun and lust,” I whispered in her ear, “I really like it a lot.”
VIVIENNE
It was the three longest days of my life. Waiting to see him again; to feel those powerful arms of his stealing me away to a higher plane of bliss.
I’d started believing that it had probably been no more than a one night stand for him and was just about to give up on the while idea of seeing him ever again when I heard the roar of a car engine outside. It was Clark, who else? The drive we took together and the passion we spent afterwards set a new standard in my mind of what true happiness might be like. I guess it’s true what they all say: Just when you give up all hope on finding what you’re looking for you it will walk right across your path.
Now I was pacing across the floor of my living room, wondering what my next course of action should be. I’d never felt this way about a man. He was the perfect blend of irritating arrogance and irresistible animal attraction. The fact that he was also rich meant absolutely nothing to me; in fact I admired him for not waving his money in my face like some elusive bait.
I could sense that he had some secrets that he would never share with the rest of the world. To everyone around him he projected an image of absolute carefree exuberance and he pretended to be in total control of his life. But I felt like I’d seen another side of him, as sometimes when we made love he had a look in his eyes that was almost vulnerable and much more revealing than he realized.
Apart from his obvious sexual attraction he was also dangerous in the most seductive way. I always had the sense that he might break through all the barriers I’d so carefully erected around my heart and disappear forever to leave me stranded with my confusing feelings for him.
I looked around the large area of the living room and everything suddenly appeared a little too quiet and empty. It always felt this way in the days following a noisy party at my house, but this time there was and added void that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. I didn’t want to admit to myself that my feelings were directly attributable to Clark’s absence.
“Don’t make it all about him or you will soon lose yourself completely,” I heard my grandmother’s streetwise voice admonishing me somewhere in my subconscious mind.
I decided to go up to my room and page through my Red Book to take a look at the names I had written in there. This exercise always gave me a sense of power and control. It felt reassuring to see the names of Judges written in it, next to those of Senators and powerful politicians. The pages were old and worn. I dared not capture the names and numbers on a computer or any other electronic device, as it might just fall into the hands of some hacker and send the entire structure of New York’s power elite into a tailspin. If the media ever had to get a hold of the contents of my Red Book they would have a field day writing all kinds of exposes on the men and women who had their names written in it.
I held the Red Book in my hands and carefully opened it. “All of us caught like prisoners between your red covers,” I whispered as if the little book could hear and understand my words, “all of us except for Clark Logan.” I thought how ironical it was that I was now falling for the one man who didn’t have his name written in my Red Book and probably couldn’t give a shit about it.
I’d tried once, a long time ago, to give up the whole game of matching up rich men with women who were prepared to fuck their way to the top, but when word got out that I was planning on quitting I quickly received some very concerned calls and visits from the men and women whose names filled the pages of my Red Book. I’d never realized how I’d been personally caught up in my own system, just like a spider caught in its own web. The concerned men and women made it crystal clear to me that they would not appreciate me quitting our ‘social circle’ and that they would not trust me with the explosive information I had about their sexual past if I was happily roaming the world outside.
So I was free to remain in control of our ‘social circle’, but I could never leave it.
I suddenly wondered if Clark also had some dark skeletons in his closet. Was he really as free as he appeared to be? Or did he also have forces controlling his actions and limiting his movements? Only time would tell, if I happened to be lucky enough to get enough time with Clark to find out more about him.
I put the Red Book back in the safe and closed the heavy steel door to safely hide the book with its sensitive contents. I sat back on my bed and closed my eyes. I half expected to see Clark’s naughty grinning face laughing at me when I opened my eyes again. He had such a knack for appearing from nowhere and that was one of the most riveting aspects of his personality. I loved the way that nothing was scripted between us. When Clark picked me up in his Blue Corvette that day and we went speeding down the highway it seemed to me like we were two leaves caught in a flooding river. We were rushing towards the edge of the cliff and I was happy to join him to find out where the stream would take us. Perhaps we would be swallowed up by the waterfall, or perhaps we would be propelled to even greater speeds by its foaming cascades.
“I’m ready to take the ride,” I whispered to myself and looked out the window. I sent up a wishful prayer to hear the roar of his Blue Corvette again outside my mansion.
My prayer was answered sooner than I could ever have hoped.
CLARK
I’m not sure if it was the way in which she was prepared to let me go every time without asking when she would see me again, or whether it was just that knowing smile she flashed at me as she waved good bye. Whatever it was, she’d made herself at home in the dark recesses of my mind and I couldn’t stop thinking about her.
Women normally got that concerned puppy dog look in their eyes when I left them after giving them the royal Clark Logan sexual treatment…like they knew I was never coming back and they feared they would never feel the touch of my fingers or the caress of my lips on their naked bodies ever again. If only they’d known that their giving me that longing look was just about the most effective way of ensuring that I would never come back. I knew that a woman who had that look in her eyes would soon start throwing the ‘C’ word at me and I was not a great fan of talks about commitment.
Vivienne never once let on that she ever wanted to see me again and that little bit of reverse psychology was simply irresistible to me. I once heard a sports commentator explain how the best running backs in football could sidestep around any defender, even if the defender knew exactly which way the running back was going to sidestep. Vivienne was a bit like that; I knew she was probably doing it on purpose, but I was still totally intrigued by the fact that she was not seeking any kind of assurance or commitment from me.
What was it that interested me immediately about certain women? It was the sense of a challenge and the idea of hunting down the kind of woman who always kept men at arm’s length. I guess you could say that Vivienne did exactly that when I first met her at the party. I knew she was interested in getting to know me in the Biblical way right from the first moment she’d set her eyes on me. I could tell that from the way she touched her hai
r and tried too hard to present a professional front. But she never once gave me the open invitation to flirt with her and this had caught my interest immediately.
I know this might be hard to believe, but I still didn’t have her phone number, it was like a little game of cat and horny mouse we were playing; not having one another’s numbers and having to wait breathlessly for our next encounter. This was perhaps the most exciting part of the whole thing for me. I loved the way how each time we met felt like the first time; each thrilling sexual experience felt like it was our first.
Where did she learn all these wicked ways of creeping into a man’s mind? How did she manage to get just about every single Hollywood power broker and every beautiful New York actress and model together at her party that evening when we first met?
Who the fuck was Vivienne Tredoux?
It was time to find out a bit more about her. Time to steer my Blue Corvette down to Forest Drive, Greenhaven; to that secret mansion on the hill.
I was cruising over to her place before you know it and hoped she would be there.
“Gotta get her damn number this time,” I thought to myself as I took the turn at the top of Forest Drive and saw the tall shape of Vivienne’s mansion looming large at the end of the road. I almost revved the car engine again to announce my arrival, but then decided that it would seem too much like a boring repetition of the last time I’d arrived.
I stopped a short distance away from her mansion and walked the last twenty yards to her front door. The house right next to Vivienne’s place had a beautiful bush of red roses on the front lawn and, without thinking, I carefully snapped off one of the largest roses from the bush. I knew that the gardener who had so obviously spent hours and days growing the beautiful flowers wouldn’t mind me harvesting the single red rose. It was for a good cause, after all. I needed to break through Vivienne’s defenses and find out what lay beyond her carefully erected façade.
I walked up to her front door with the rose hidden behind my back in one hand and knocked three times.
I could hear the sound of her coming down the stairs and waited impatiently for her to open the large wooden door and let me in.
TO BE CONTINUED….
A Billionaire’s Heart
One
The sun hung heavy in the sky, bathing the world in its golden glow radiance. The heat emanating from it made the ground sizzle and if one were to look up at it they would be instantly blinded by the iridescent white glare. The blue sky was clear with not even a wisp of a cloud and the air was muggy and dry. It was the middle of the Arizona desert, dusty and dirty and horrible. It felt like hell, but James and Jill had already been through hell, and they knew that this was just another rite of passage until they found their new beginning.
“How much longer is it?” Jill asked, blonde hair looking dark as it was matted with sweat and clung to her forehead. She sat astride a horse, her wide-brimmed hat offering her face shade but it felt useless. Every word scratched her throat and she gazed longingly at the canteen of water, which had more space than either of them would have liked. They had been looking out for another source of water but rivers were a rare thing here and until they found one they would have to be cautious with how much water they used, because with all they had been through it would have been an ignominious end to die of thirst in the desert.
“Maybe another couple of days,” Jim replied stoically, his eyes focused on the horizon ahead, always looking to the future. Not once since they had left their old home had he turned to look back over his shoulder, although it was far easier to keep his eyes off the past than his mind. During the trip he had not been as talkative as Jill would have liked, and this made their journey seem longer. Privately he vowed to make it up to her when they reached their destination but for now they were caught in limbo, the past still haunted them and tried to draw them back, while the future was not yet written and was only a dream. It had been enough to nourish them so far but until it became reality Jim was going to remain distant.
“I'm not sure I can make it that long,” Jill said without any trace of humor in her voice. She was tired and weary, and the heat made her want to melt into a puddle of ooze and just stay there for the rest of her life. Behind her the wagon creaked along, its wheels crushing and cracking the small stones under its wheels. The horses' hooves clopped in a steady, lulling rhythm and if not for the discomfort of the heat it would have been enough for anyone to fall asleep. The small wagon behind them held all of their possessions. It had been a humble life for humble people but what they had been through had tested their strength, and now they were hoping to leave that all behind.
“We've made it this far, we'll make it there. Before you know it we'll be in our new home. We'll find some water later. Night will be cooler, we'll find a place to camp out, just like we have done every other night,” he said. But night seemed an eternity away and Jill could feel her mind and body screaming at her to be done with this. Her mind was fixed on the comforts of home; a nice meal, a cool bath, then she remembered...she half-smiled to herself, then a single tear rolled down her cheek.
“I was just thinking about when he used to-”
“I thought we agreed never to talk about that,” he snapped. Jill looked wounded and remembered their agreement, although now she was beginning to regret it. Unlike Jim she had looked back over her shoulder at what they were leaving behind. The past had made them who they were and whatever happened was a part of them and would always be a part of them. She understood why Jim wanted to forget it but she wasn't sure if that would ever be possible. She looked over to him and wished that she could touch him, comfort him, be tender with him in the way that husbands and wives should be, in the way that they had been years ago. The memories of their first days together brought back powerful sensations of fervent kisses, of unbridled desire, but all that was lost just like everything else. The only thing that remained was the two of them. Jill couldn't remember the last time they had been together intimately, and she wondered if they ever would again. Jim had been convinced that a new start was what they needed, and she knew that he thought everything would go back to the way it used to be, as though it was that easy to turn back the hands of time. Jill was not convinced however, and she was afraid that this journey would be for nothing.
The day rolled on but the landscape looked the same. Huge mountains towered in the distance, jagged rocks sliced into the sky. As they passed some they saw vegetation growing on the side, and they wondered how anything could thrive in this environment, but it gave them hope that they too would survive. They passed around the canteen of water, savoring every drop but continuing to wish that they could find a river for their clothes were sticking to them and the odor was beginning to get untenable. The horses needed a rest too, they could tell from the mighty beasts' labored breaths.
“I know how you feel,” Jill said, patting hers on the thick sinewy neck. When they had picked them up the manes had been glossy and lustrous, but now like everything else they were dusty and grimy. The desert had made wrecks of them all. Over their heads vultures soared through the sky, gliding along using their wide wings. Their cawing was more like cackling, accompanied by the howls of coyotes and all the while the relentless sun beat down on them, draining their energy and their spirit. Jill's eyes began to feel heavy. Every blink felt longer than the last, and the darkness felt cool. She heard Jim calling her name, and somewhere she thought she answered but she couldn't be sure because the darkness was so peaceful, so calm, and she smiled.
Two
It had been a long trip for Brandon Grayson but then again they all were. There was nothing like going back home to the town he had come from, and any time away from it was like being away from his children. Sadly his business took him away regularly, but that was how he was able to maintain the town and fund it in the first place. Being a billionaire had its privileges certainly, like now, for he was traveling in style in a comfortable carriage where he was protected by the su
n. On occasion he reached out of the window and felt its heat on his hand, and shuddered at the thought of having to ride through the uncompromising desert like a peasant. No, he much preferred the comfortable life, and settled into his padded seat as he took a sip of water and leaned his head against the wall, letting the gentle rhythm of the wagon carry him to sleep.
He was awoken abruptly by the driver, Brandon was sure his name was Ray or Roy, or perhaps Rob?
“What's going on?” Brandon asked. He heard the driver jump down and open the door. His face glistened with sweat and for a moment Brandon felt a little guilty that he had enjoyed the shade while the driver had been forced to contend with the elements, but only for a moment since Brandon was paying him handsomely for this task, perhaps too generously now that he thought about it, but the agreement had been made and there was no helping that now.
“Sorry sir, I don't mind to take us off track but I've found something. Looks like a wagon went down. There could be people there, I don't know, but I thought we should be good Samaritans and go check it out.”
Game of Throbs Complete Series (Books 1-3) Page 35
