The Billionaire's Pledge

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The Billionaire's Pledge Page 8

by Rachel Bond


  He looked down and was quiet. Then he said, “I’d better go. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

  He stood and headed for the door. Savannah felt angry and powerless. She wanted to scream, but she held back. It had been almost two weeks—what was she doing wrong? What was the matter with her?

  He gave her a backward glance as he left the apartment.

  She could see that his eyes were shining with tears.

  CHAPTER 14

  The next day was Saturday, September 22nd, and Savannah was in low spirits. She didn’t know where this relationship with Zachary was going. She didn’t even know if they should keep seeing each other. It was fun, but she wanted more. She needed more. She craved him sexually, and being around him and not being allowed to kiss and touch him was driving her crazy. She’d been up half the night thinking about him and getting herself off with her favorite vibrator and her hands, but when she was finished it just seemed like she wanted him even more.

  Something had to give. As she ate breakfast, she realized this was it. Today. Either she’d make him tell her what was going on, or they would have sex, or it was over. No more games. No more stalling. No more avoiding an argument or a fight.

  Around 10:00 a.m. she got a text:

  I’m ready to talk. Coffee shop, 30 min?

  She wrote back: Sure.

  When she arrived at Cuppa, he was sitting in the back of the shop on the deep soft sofa. His face looked calm and happy. His hair was perfect, and he had that subtle billionaire air about him, that thing she had noticed the first day.

  She gave him a nod and a little wave, and went to the counter to say hi to Elaine. Just then her phone buzzed. She’d gotten a text, but not from Zachary. She ignored it.

  “Hey, Elaine.”

  “He’s here,” she said. “He’s been waiting for you.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  Her phone buzzed again. She sighed and pulled it out.

  Oh, shit. It was a message from Charles, her ex-boyfriend.

  Oh, SHIT!

  It was the 22nd. He’d asked her to pick him up at the airport today, and she’d refused. Then she’d pushed him out of her mind. The last week, she hadn’t thought about him once, and it had been nice to get him out of her mind.

  She stuffed the phone deep into her pocket and forced herself to forget about him. He didn’t matter anymore.

  She strolled to the back and sank down into the sofa next to Zac. He put his arm around her, his warm hand coming to rest on her right shoulder, fingers on her collarbone. He’d never done that before. It felt amazing.

  “Are you feeling all right?” she teased, her lips only a few inches from his. “You’re being very affectionate.”

  “Am I?” He wore a sly smile.

  “You’ve never put your arm around me before.”

  “Haven’t I?”

  His smile made it clear he was toying with her. Flirting. It felt good.

  “What’s going on?” she asked. “You wanted to talk?”

  “Yes. But not here. Let’s take a walk.”

  “Why not here? Nobody can hear us.”

  “I think I can do this better if I’m moving. Gets my brain juices flowing. Makes it easier to tell…” He hesitated. Then he whispered: “Secrets.”

  The word sent a tingle down Savannah’s spine. Was she finally going to find out what the hell was going on with him?

  She said, “Ahh—secrets. All right, let’s walk.”

  They left the shop and started walking aimlessly around Hood River, talking about the stores and who was doing what. They tossed around some ideas about what they might do that day. She felt like Zachary was stalling.

  “Aren’t you going to tell me your big secret?”

  He opened his mouth, but at that moment Savannah heard a strangely familiar sound, but one she hadn’t heard in years.

  It was the rapid-fire kachink-kachink-kachink of a single-lens reflex camera, and it was close. She whirled to find a man almost in her face, taking pictures.

  Pictures of her, and of Zachary. She flinched and instinctively brought up her hand.

  “Fuck,” Zachary said, as the man sprinted to position himself directly in their path. They practically had to dodge to miss crashing into him.

  “What the—?” Savannah said.

  “They found me,” Zachary said.

  “Zac!” the man shouted. “Zac, right here! Hey, Zac, who’s the girl? What’ve you been doin’ up here? Zac, right here, big smile, buddy!”

  All the while, the camera was clicking away, firing off dozens of photos.

  Zac held up his hand and turned around.

  “What’s going on?” Savannah asked, but she knew. Paparazzi. Or, technically, one paparazzo. Zac was still a celebrity, and this guy could sell the photos for a pretty penny to some shitty rag or website.

  Savannah’s phone buzzed in her pocket. She couldn’t hear it, but she felt it vibrating.

  A second later, the man was in front of them again, shouting Zac’s name over and over and calling out dumb questions.

  Then another one appeared, and Zac said, “Oh, fuck me! Fucking-A, goddammit! How is this possible? Two?! Come on, Savannah!”

  He took her hand and headed up a side street, the photographers in pursuit, their shutters snapping like hungry alligators.

  “Savannah!” They were yelling now. “Savannah! How did you two meet? Are you his girlfriend? How long have you been together? What’s your last name? Savannah, over here, come on, you wanna look good, right? I don’t wanna hafta sell some shitty shot a you!”

  It was like a nightmare. She’d had no idea it could be like this. Where could they go? Where was Zac’s car?

  She leaned closer to Zac’s ear. “Why don’t we just give ‘em what they want? Maybe they’ll leave.”

  “Yeah, listen to her!” the first man shouted. “Give us some good shots, kiss each other, we’ll take off.”

  “No,” Zac said, putting his hand up to block their view.

  Then from somewhere across the street, Savannah heard a familiar voice.

  “Savannah! Yo! Wow! I found you!”

  Her heart seemed to pause in mid-beat.

  Oh fucking-christ-oh-shit-oh-christ-he’s-here-he’s-really-here.

  Charles. He’d found her. He’d flown in from New York and come out to Hood River and now he was jogging across the street toward her, yelling stupid things, while the paparazzi yelled at the same time.

  It was chaos.

  “Baby! Oh baby, it’s me! Charlie!”

  “Who’s that?” Zac asked.

  “Savannah! Right here, give us a smile, okay? Just one good shot! You too, Zac! Come on, Cushman, you’re a billionaire, you don’t want us bothering you all night!”

  “Baby! God damn, baby, you look good!”

  “Zac, give us a break! We’re just trying to make a living! Where’s the Lamborghini? You got a yacht down on the river?”

  “Savannah baby! Charlie’s here, come on, let’s talk.”

  Oh God, oh God, oh God, how do I get out of this? What the fuck is happening? What the fuck?

  Now Charles was only a few feet away, even with the paparazzi, his arms outstretched, a huge stupid grin on his shitty face. His mouth was moving and sounds were coming out, but she no longer could make sense of them. Everything blended together. Everything was foggy. A moment later, a female police officer appeared and starting calling out questions at Savannah and Zac while trying to get the three men to calm down and be quiet. Everybody was screaming at once. A crowd was forming. It was late morning, a busy and crowded Saturday in this tourist town, and at least a dozen people had stopped moving and were staring at the bizarre scene. One of them seemed to be filming it. Great!

  Savannah felt like her heart was going to either explode or simply stop beating out of sheer insanity.

  Zac’s hand tightened on hers. They were still walking. The first cameraman was so close, the lens was right by her face, the camera’s shutter c
licking frantically. Kachink-kachink! Suddenly she felt a strong tug on her hand. The lens slammed into her brow, sending a burst of dizzying pain through her head. She let out a noise, a little scream of surprise and pain, and then Zac was saying “You all right?” and shoving her downward toward something yellow and shiny. She was inside. The door was coming down. Now Zac was next to her and a roar like ten unmuffled Harley-Davidson motorcycles filled her head, and they sped off down the street in the Lamborghini.

  Savannah touched her brow and her fingers came away wet and sticky.

  CHAPTER 15

  “Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck! Fuck FUCK!!” Zac pounded his open palm against the wheel and let out more f-words than Savannah had ever heard in her life. At least since she’d watched The Wolf of Wall Street.

  “You okay?” he asked, glancing over. “Shit, you’re bleeding.”

  “Am I? I guess I am. Christ.”

  She stared at her fingers, dark with blood. Her head spun. Was this real? How had this happened?

  The car sped around Hood River for a few minutes, then suddenly swung left and stopped short in Zachary’s driveway. Savannah had been so dazed she hadn’t realized they were even on his street.

  Inside the house, she felt like she was in shock. She collapsed on the sofa, but Zac picked her up and carried her easily down a hall and into the bedroom. She felt him pulling back the covers while still holding her—how was he doing that so effortlessly?—and setting her gently onto clean, white sheets. She was going to get blood on them.

  “Zac…”

  “Don’t talk. Hold on, I need to look at that.”

  He disappeared for a moment and returned with a handful of stuff: bandages, bottles. He handed her a damp towel.

  “You can clean your hands.”

  She looked at the towel. It was white. “But I’ll ruin it.”

  “Fuck the towel, it’s ten bucks at Bed Bath and Beyond. I’m a billionaire, remember?”

  She tried to chuckle but a flare of pain made it impossible. She wiped the blood from her fingers. It was shockingly red on the perfect white towel.

  Zac leaned over and his face was close to hers. He touched her forehead, her cheek, her brow line.

  “Ow!”

  “Sorry,” he said. “It’s just a little cut. I don’t think it needs stitches.”

  “You’re not a doctor. Maybe we should go to the emergency room and let them decide.”

  “My mom’s a nurse. I’ve had my share of cuts and bruises. This is nothing. No offense—I know it hurts.”

  “Then why’s it bleeding so much?”

  “It’s just above your eyebrow. The forehead has a lot of blood vessels, for whatever reason. It’s stopped already anyway. Here, hold on a sec, I’m going to clean it. This might sting.”

  She felt him doing something, and it stung like hell. “Ow! Jesus!”

  “Sorry. That was just a bit of antiseptic cream. Now I’ll put a Band-Aid on it.”

  He peeled open a bandage and smoothed it across the cut. Savannah felt her heart rate slow. She took some deep breaths and lay back into the fluffy pillows. She felt very relaxed. It was like her system had gotten overloaded by all that had just happened, and now it was flooding her body with some kind of endorphins.

  Zac sat on the edge of the bed and looked into her eyes. “You okay?” he asked.

  “I feel…” She hesitated, trying to find the right words. “I feel like I’m floating, kind of. Like I’m outside myself, drifting along…”

  “Does it still hurt?”

  “No. Nothing hurts.” She paused. “That was frickin’ bonkers back there. My ex was there! Did you hear him?”

  “I saw him and heard him. How come you didn’t tell me he was coming?”

  She shrugged. “Forgot, I guess. Or maybe I repressed it. I don’t know. Hope he doesn’t find us.”

  “He won’t,” Zac said. “I’ve done a lot of little things to make it hard to track down my address.”

  She snorted. “Bullshit. No offense. Probably half the town knows where you live, driving around in that lunar landing module.”

  “Hey!” he said, looking offended. “My car’s not made of tinfoil!” He smiled.

  He touched her shoulder gently, then left the room for a few minutes. Savannah settled in and tried to put her injury and the paparazzi and Charles out of her mind. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, slowly. Time passed, but she wasn’t sure how long. Had she fallen asleep?

  She felt Zac take her hand and start to gently stroke the palm and fingers. He was moving so slowly, it almost tickled. She breathed a little bit faster. She lay there with her eyes closed, enjoying his touch. This was different. This was new. Something was going on…

  After a minute, she heard his voice, full of emotion.

  “I took a vow, Savannah,” he said, speaking very quietly.

  “Hmm?” she moaned.

  “I vowed not to have sex. I wanted to tell you before, but I couldn’t. I was embarrassed…ashamed…I’m sorry. I should have told you. I’m such as idiot.”

  No sex? He made a vow? This didn’t make sense…what was he talking about? She opened her eyes and looked at him. Was this the big secret? The thing he’d been holding back all this time?

  She watched his eyes. They were staring at her lips. They moved down to her chest, and she felt strangely self-conscious about her thin bra and silky shirt.

  He looked up again, and his hand moved toward her face, touching her cheek, running down it to her jaw, then tracing a line down her neck. She opened her lips a fraction.

  “Things were so crazy down in California,” he said. “So much sex, so many women. Whatever I wanted, whenever I wanted it. Ménage à trois, orgies. Oh man, it was insane.”

  “Tell me more…” she whispered. But she wondered: if he’d taken this vow, why hadn’t he just told her about it? He said he was embarrassed and ashamed, but he’d told her other things about his sex life.

  His fingers traced along the front of her shirt, touching each button all the way down, as if feeling their smooth mother-of-pearl texture. She wanted him to unbutton them, to pull her shirt off. Her heart beat faster and her breaths started to come even more rapidly. Without thinking, she licked her lips and swallowed. Was this really going to happen?

  “One day I woke up in a strange bed. I didn’t know where I was.” He lifted up the bottom corner of her shirt a little, exposing the tan skin of her lower stomach. “My head was throbbing. There were five naked women asleep all around me. Models. Centerfolds. Dancers.” He placed the shirt back down and rested his hand on her hip. “But they meant nothing to me. My heart was aching for real love, a real connection.”

  He picked up his hand and ran it along the outside of her upper thigh, down to the knee. She felt his gentle touch through the thin cotton of her skirt. He touched her bare knee.

  “We were in some expensive hotel. My head hurt so much I could hardly move. One of the women wanted a couple thousand dollars to buy more drugs. Another one got sick in the bed.”

  He ran his hand down to her foot and caressed the toes and gave her a little foot massage. Savannah found it incredibly sensual.

  “That was it,” he said. “Rock bottom, as they say. I’d had enough. I made a formal vow of chastity the next day. Started researching where I could go to escape everything. That was two months ago. I took that vow very seriously. That’s why I couldn’t let you touch me, or even kiss me. I had to have limits, I had to draw a line. Otherwise things would get out of hand and I’d break my vow.”

  “So we can’t have sex? We can’t even kiss?”

  His finger moved up and around the back of her knee and caressed the soft skin behind it. She shifted, barely aware of it, her legs parting slightly under her skirt. By moving, she became aware of the feel of her panties against her bottom and her vulva.

  “Well, I held out as long as I could. It wasn’t all that difficult until a couple of weeks ago. Being around you has b
een…oh, God! It’s been so difficult. Even that very first day, the very first minute, I wanted to kiss you. I wanted to tear off your clothes and do things to you. Fucking-A, it was a challenge!”

  Savannah could hardly believe it. She lay there on his bed, her feelings for him growing stronger each second, imagining him wanting to touch her. Zachary Cushman wanted her! She felt his finger move an inch or two up the back of her leg. The skin there was extremely soft and sensitive. Her body and mind responded.

  “Now that we’ve gotten to know each other, Savannah, I realize the whole vow was just a test. Could I get back in control of my life? Could I press the reset button and start over? Was I still a good person? And I passed the test. I held out. I realize now, I was just waiting for the right woman. It couldn’t be just anybody. It couldn’t be another money-grubber, gold-digger, expensive call girl. I found you, and that’s what this whole thing was all about.”

  His hand slid farther up, tantalizingly. She sighed and let her legs open a bit more. His fingers were under her skirt now, moving along her inner thigh. It had been so long…so long since a man had truly touched her…

  He leaned over and put his lips lightly to hers. The kiss was long and wonderful. His hand paused near her panties, at the very top of the back of her leg, just inches below her bottom. He stroked her there. It was like he was waiting for permission to keep going.

  She kissed him hard, finally releasing her pent-up desires, pressing her tongue greedily into his mouth where it met his tongue and played with it. He could have her. He could take her. She wanted him. She wanted to see his body, to feel it in her hands, to fondle him and make him squirm with pleasure.

  But for now she would simply enjoy this kiss.

  After a few moments she wrapped her arm around him and pulled him closer, running her fingers through his thick, dark hair. She held him to her, kissing him hard, loving his mouth and feeling his smooth lips against hers. His hand probed farther up, stroking the outside of her panties, running along their seam, making Savannah’s head spin.

  They kept kissing, and she hardly even noticed when his hand moved away from her crotch.

 

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