Billionaire In Hiding: The Complete Series (Alpha Billionaire Romance Western Love Story)

by Claire Adams

  I didn’t go to lunch, even as I watched the interns, Jason, and the Secret Service agents shoving salads and burgers down their throats. I shuddered at them, feeling the aching emptiness in my stomach. Would I ever feel normal again? I was continually feeling like I was having an out-of-body experience.

  Suddenly, and all too soon, it was two in the afternoon. Xavier appeared at the far end of the hallway and he sauntered toward us. The room grew quiet and Jason stood, nodding his head toward the president—all but saluting him. I stood, as well, as he entered. I held my hand over my stomach, listening to the way it was erupting inside of me.

  I kicked into gear. The press release was still my main duty. “Hello, Mr. President.” I felt every person’s young eyes on me as I walked toward him, taking his arm and guiding him through the press release proceedings that I had outlined. As we passed Jason’s desk, Xavier leaned toward him, over the desk. They shook hands, and Xavier pointed toward the press release.

  “What do you think of this?” he asked Jason. The entire room remained so quiet.

  Jason looked beyond Xavier, toward my face. His face was actually leering at me, making me feel like I was only three inches tall. I felt my stomach drop out beneath me.

  “Honestly, Mr. President, I think the press release needs a little work,” Jason spoke, then. His voice was so light, so bouncy. He was saving his friendliest self for the president, I knew. All around us, the workers were poised, ready to get to action when we approved the press release.

  Xavier raised his eyebrow at this, uncertain. “You think it needs work?” He turned to the paper. He nodded. “A bit, perhaps.” He handed it back to me, not unkindly. “Just a few minor tweaks here and there should be fine,” he stated, nodding.

  Jason’s smile was so large. I held angry eye contact with him, even as the president turned toward the great congregation of workers and presented himself. “Hello, my campaign workers. Today, we’re rolling out the next step in my education reform plan, and I couldn’t be more grateful to have each and every one of you on board.” He sniffed for a moment. “When the television turns on tonight in homes all over the world, you know what they’re going to learn about? They’re going to learn about the ways in which we—we here together—are going to educate the nation’s children in positive ways.”

  The people let out a great cheer. My heart had stretched itself in my chest. I brought my hands together and applauded with the rest of them, glancing over for only a moment to see that Jason had stood up and directed lewd motions toward me—motions that reminded me, of course, of the photos he had stock-piled at his home office computer, I was certain. I brought my hands to my stomach, feeling waves of disgust and anger. Would I ever feel normal again?

  Xavier called me to Jason’s desk, then, and the three of us—like some awkward three-some—worked through the outline, scratching things out and rewording. Jason had far too much say in the final product and my blood was boiling. But I couldn’t say anything. Everything I suggested was automatically vetoed by the harsh voice of Jason—so authoritative in the rushing, chaotic room.

  I bit my lip and looked up at the president, feeling Jason’s leering eyes on me. Xavier was completely enthralled in his work, patiently making notes in his small planner. I wondered if he’d written a small note for me—for me that evening, somewhere in the book. I wondered if it was written in code.

  But I couldn’t linger on this. I held my hand over my stomach and I told the men that I was suffering from a stomachache. Anxiety pangs were eating my heart, my lungs, my throat, and my stomach, anyway. I couldn’t stand there a moment longer. I rushed from the room in a sort of haze, still feeling the determination in Jason’s face.

  He wanted to destroy me.

  Chapter 12

  After nearly growing sick in the bathroom, I found myself back at my desk, my head between my legs. A small bead of sweat had dropped down my forehead, toward my nose. I felt like a mess, but I knew the workday wasn’t close to being over—that I still had so many lonely, anxious hours without Xavier by my side. I could feel his presence back in the office.

  When I lurched back from the bottom ethers of my desk, I found that the room no longer held Jason. He was missing from his desk, leaving only a sad pile of papers on the edge. I brought my hands to my hair, tugging a bit and remembering that he was probably meeting with Xavier while I sat there, so alone in my reverie. The thought of it panicked me. I brought a Kleenex over my eyes, over my mouth, trying to find a way to breathe normally.

  But suddenly, the Oval Office door erupted down the hall, bringing Jason back into the world like a messy birth. He looked quite pleased with himself as he walked, bouncing a bit and allowing his belly to arch high into the air. His eyes were directly on me from the distance, and I held the eye contact, daring it to approach. I couldn’t be so afraid of him anymore. He’d gotten his meeting with the president. What more was he going to ask me for, now? He had a direct fucking line.

  He came to me and flung his hands onto the desk, forcing the photo of me and my mother down onto the ground. He ticked his tongue at the top of his mouth and he looked at me playfully. “You know, I just had a really fine meeting with the president.”

  My heart quickened. I sat still in my chair, looking up at him. I blinked wildly. “And?”

  I didn’t want to give him any satisfaction. But the satisfaction seemed to come from himself, regardless.

  “Of course, I can’t tell you anything. Not here.” He waggled his eyebrows high on his face, and my insides squirmed.

  I stood, pointing my finger on the now-empty desk between us. I stabbed it down, harder and harder. “You’re going to tell me what’s going on, Jason. You didn’t tell him about the—“

  But Jason just brought his finger to his lips in a jerking motion, shaking his head quickly. “Nope nope! Don’t want to give away any trade secrets.” He spun around, then, leaving me at my desk alone once more. He sauntered down the hallway, back toward the bathroom. I felt like I lived in a sea of doubt, of uncertainty. When the fuck was I going to get out of here?

  But I had hope.

  That evening, I would be with Xavier. I would be with him; comfortable, even if a bit nervous because of the events of the day. I couldn’t tell him anything, certainly. The mere fact that I was having dinner with him was far too risky.

  I dressed in my bedroom, kneeling beside the dresser, trying to make sure I wasn’t revealed to the camera—wherever it lurked. I righted myself and peered in the mirror at my slim frame, at my gorgeous brunette hair. I still looked good, I knew. Even after all I’d been through; even after all I’d worked for. I still looked good.

  Out in front of my apartment building sat a Secret Service vehicle. I slid myself into it, and we sped into the night. I thought for a moment about the education press release—how it had already been met with incredible acclaim. I felt a burning burst of pride.

  We arrived at the White House—that joyful beacon of white light. I hopped from the cab and tapped to the front door. However, I suddenly felt a hand on my elbow. I peered up, frightened, at the man beside me. “Dimitri?” I asked him.

  “The president has requested we take a side entrance,” Dimitri stated, not a single ounce of happiness in his voice. I followed his lead, down the steps, around the side of the massive house. I had never entered from this particular door. He opened it for me and searched the interior before allowing me to enter.

  “Where are we?” I whispered.

  “Secret arena. The president holds his top-secret meetings here.”

  “And I’m top-secret?” I whispered, unsure of how to feel.

  “We certainly don’t think that will be true for long,” NIkolay muttered. Perturbed, I didn’t say anything in response.

  His irritation with me made my heart cold, my fingers jittery. I followed behind him, down the steps, noting a soft glow at the back of a small room. He gestured with his massive arm, allowing me to pass him. My eyes were br
ight, trying to catch his. But he wouldn’t return my eye contact.

  I entered the room and found a small table set with long, luxurious candles. The candlelight was the only illumination in the room, casting a soft, ghostly glow over everything. I could see Xavier in the light. He stood before me: the most handsome man I’d ever seen. I swallowed and walked toward him, feeling like I was going to meet my doom.

  “Good evening, Amanda,” he stated, then. His voice was deep, filled with such passion for me.

  “Hi,” I whispered. My word was so wispy when compared to voice. He brought the chair out for me and allowed me to sit just next to him. I brought the flounces of my dress around the chair. “This is beautiful.”

  “I know,” Xavier said, looking only at me.

  The chef came, then. He poured the wine and brought out an appetizer course of soup. I felt so on-edge that I couldn’t even eat. I picked up my spoon and then placed it back down once more, upset with myself. Why had I allowed all this to happen to me?

  But Xavier started out simply with his conversation.

  “You did a marvelous job today on the press release.”

  “Thank you,” I murmured back, unsure. He had really ripped it apart during the meeting, and I wasn’t sure how I was meant to feel. I swallowed.

  He set his spoon down. “You’re all right, aren’t you, Amanda?” he asked me.

  I nodded brightly, falsely. “Of course.”

  “Because you’ve been acting so strangely about us—ever since—“

  Ever since we made love so passionately on camera? I wanted to ask. I kept my mouth shut.

  I bowed my head. “I’m just a little nervous about things, you know.” I laughed it off. “But this—this evening with you is all I want. It’s all I want.” I hadn’t meant for those words to come out of me, but there they were—taking up space at the table, next to the glasses of wine and the simmering soup.

  He brought his hand over the table and tapped it over mine, his eyes large. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.”

  I blushed, knowing he couldn’t see it in the candlelight. I made a light joke—something I couldn’t even remember right after I said it, I was so nervous. But he laughed so jauntily that he ultimately had to hold his stomach and lurch forward, cackling.

  I laughed, too. Our conversation was so fluid together. I felt our connection growing, deepening. In the back of my mind, I knew we had so many problems. I knew that if Jason caught wind of this dinner, he would have the photographs out the door and to the news sources in an instant. But in this moment, laughing with Xavier, I was free. I wasn’t a campaign manager, and he wasn’t Pesident of the United States. We were just people who were falling in love with each other.

  I could hardly eat my food, my main course, my dessert. I touched his chest, his arm. “Who were you in college, Xavier? Were you the ‘cool’ guy; were you the frat boy? Who were you?”

  “Are you trying to compare me to your former college boyfriends? Because I can assure you, I did a good deal of studying. But with a forty in my backpack at all times, of course.” He winked at me, then. I clutched my stomach and laughed.

  I pushed my plate back toward the center of the table, feeling so full even after only a few bites of the plump pumpkin ice cream. I licked my lips and gazed toward him, even as I caught his eyes on me. He blushed. “Would you like to go to the side room? There’s this lovely record player. I think it belonged to Carter.”

  “President Carter?” I asked, laughing. “So this is the secret lair of a president. Fine foods and record players.”

  Xavier shrugged. “And a few AK47s, but only for the occasional get-together.”

  I laughed and followed him into the side room, where a small lamp was already set out next to the record player. I pieced through the records and found one that seemed perfect. “You like the Stones?” I asked the president, bringing the shining black circle into the world. It seemed to have a heart beat, a pulse in my hands.

  I placed the record on the player and set the needle, bringing the jiving music into the world. I tapped my feet and swung my dress around, remembering the glory days when music could take you wherever you wanted to go.

  “Sit with me,” Xavier stated, then, tapping at the area on the couch just next to him. I raised my eyebrow and tapped toward him, allowing myself to fall into his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling a bit of the alcohol taking hold of my mind.

  “I like this music,” he whispered to me. Our noses were so close together. He closed his eyes. I felt like, in this moment, everything was perfect in the world. I didn’t have to think about his wife; I didn’t have to think about Jason and what he wanted me to do. I didn’t even feel his grip around my neck any more.

  Suddenly, the president’s lips were on mine. I grew nervous and broke away in an instant, huffing lightly.

  Xavier righted himself a bit, still clutching me close to him. “Are you all right? Do you want to go home?”

  I shook my head, feeling his dick rising beneath me. I wanted him. I leaned toward him once more and our lips caught each other again, easing us into a strenuous make out session. I felt his tongue over mine, needing me. Wanting me. He wrapped his arms around my body and clutched at my dress, pulling it apart in a supreme ripping motion. I cried out into the world, knowing that the secret service agents could hear us, just a room away.

  My breasts spilled into his face and he licked at the hard, red nipples with his tongue, bringing his fingers onto my hot, dripping pussy. I whimpered, feeling the mass of him beneath me. I brought my hands to his belt and began undoing it, allowing him to come free. I held the pulsing bulge in my hand and gazed at Xavier in the eye, not sure if this moment was real. Could it be? I couldn’t be sure.

  I stood, bringing him with me. We stood half-naked, kissing each other. “Oh, baby. Yeah,” I called to him as he stuck three, then four of his fingers into my dripping pussy. I felt so hot for him, so natural there before him.

  Suddenly, I pushed him down on the couch. I spun around and placed my body over his, my butt toward him.

  “Yeah, baby,” he called to me. He grabbed my ass with his broad hands, and I caught his hot, pulsing dick in my pussy. I felt it all the way in my G-spot as I rode him backward, leaning further and further toward his feet. He jerked a bit as he felt the pleasure of it, spanking me all the time. I felt my breasts bouncing; I grabbed his balls with my hand and caught them up around my pussy, making him sigh and call out.

  Right when I was about to come, I started calling his name: “Yes, Xavier. Yes!” And he reached up, in that moment, and brought his hand around my mouth. His grip was firm. My heart began to beat so fast. I knew I liked this, in a strange and kinky way. I knew this turned me on. But why--?

  “Shh,” he murmured. “Shh.” He loosened his grip over my mouth.

  I understood, then. I spun around once more and found myself face-to-face with him, his great dick still in my pussy. I smiled at him. “Sorry, baby,” I whispered.

  He nodded, his eyes closed and his eyebrows high on his face. He loved every inch of me, everything I did with my body. He brought his hands up to stroke my breasts, my side. I sighed into him, kissing his chest. I moved my pussy from his dick and instead brought my mouth around it, licking it with my great, dripping tongue. I pulled my whole mouth around it, all the while thinking—god, I’m giving the president a blowie. God, it’s happening.

  Xavier brought his hand over my ear, over my hair as I did it, lightly stroking my skin. “God, baby. That’s so good,” he murmured. His dick was pulsing in my mouth.

  Just as I sensed he was about to come, I removed my mouth from his dick and took a step back, away from the couch. I watched as he cowered in the pain of it—in the certainty that he would never come, not again. I laughed for a moment.

  “Why do you do this to me?” he called, tapping his chest like a gorilla.

  I shook my head and leaped into his arms once more. He swung
my body around and penetrated me from above, allowing me to rest my head and enjoy his power and process over me as we made love like humans: face to face, with such passion exhibited between us.

  “Oh, baby. I’m going to come,” he muttered. I could feel him so deep inside me, and I wanted this. I wanted this. I wanted to be in his arms. I couldn’t remember another time that had ever existed in my life, before this. Never.

  Finally, he came, roughing into me until the storm was over. He fell from me and wrapped his arms around me and turned toward me, dipping his nose into mine. I sighed and allowed my head to loll back. We gazed into each other’s eyes. My happiness was growing in my heart, in my lungs. I could feel my toes tingling with it: the strange joy of this.

  I knew it couldn’t last forever. But god if it wasn’t good for the occasional evening.

  “This doesn’t have to be the last time,” Xavier suddenly blurting, jerking us out of the silence of the moment.

  I pulled myself up on my elbow and gazed at him, uncertain of what to say. I sighed. “Xavier. You’re married,” I whispered. I kissed his nose, his mouth once more.

  But Xavier didn’t take this excuse. Instead, his eyes grew more intense. He bit his lip and wrapped his fingers tightly around my naked shoulder. “Baby. I don’t think you really understand what I’m saying here,” he murmured.

  My heart was racing. I was worried, suddenly, that this was all a scam—that Jason had put him up to this, that they had “caught me in the act” of forcing the president to cheat. I felt the anxiety pushing through my veins, and I pushed back, away from him. I placed my naked foot on the ground, planning my escape. God. I jostled my head. Why did I always let myself get into these terrorizing scrapes?