The Hotel 3 (The Billionaire Seduction)

by Darling, Lola

  Dom’s cell phone rings, and he curses when he sees the number. “It’s the Paris financial officer. I’ve been expecting his call.” He pauses, looking back at Lillian and Blaine. They’re still at the bar, and Lillian is flirting up a storm.

  “And did you see Bunny and Bex in Aspen last year?”

  “Take it,” I tell him. “They’ll be a while.”

  “OK. Just keep listening in and call me if something goes down.”

  He exits the bar through the back door, and I turn my attention back to Lillian and Blaine. He’s leaning so close to her that I can hear his heavy breathing coming through the wire. Barf. To her credit, Lillian lets him practically drool on her.

  “I saw Xander at the hospital today,” she says. Blaine coughs.

  “He said the brakes were cut on his little sports car. Honestly, I’m a little sad that someone beat me to it.”

  What is she doing? She’s not supposed to push him like this!

  “Really?” His voice is neutral, but I detect a spark of interest. Lillian plays it up by tapping his arm with her finger.

  “I thought I’d be satisfied when I took Dominic’s shares from him. But then Xander showed up, and I know it’s only a matter of time before I have competition.”

  “I thought you and Xander were a thing?”

  She laughs. “Please. He’s inconvenient. Both the Rexfords are, wouldn’t you agree?”

  I’m fuming over here. She’s supposed to be subtle, not so obvious! What if Blaine figures out this is a ruse?

  “Sure, they’re annoying, but I’ll crush them both in time.”

  Blaine isn’t taking the bait.

  Lillian leans in closer. “I know you sent me the video of Dominic fucking that little intern.”

  Holy shit! She’s going for the jugular. Panic curls up inside me, and I desperately wish Dominic would get back. What if she tips Blaine off, if she makes him suspicious?

  “Admit it, and let me thank you properly,” Lillian coos.

  Oh no. Here comes the seductive charm. Blaine takes both her wrists in his hands and moves so their knees are touching. She looks slightly alarmed, but recovers with a sugar-coated smile. “When I’m done thanking you, we can talk about getting rid of Xander for good this time.”

  “Upstairs.” Blaine slides off his stool. “Let’s continue this conversation in private.”

  “You got a room?”

  He’s so close to her now, she’s probably drowning in his nasty cologne. “There’s only one way I imagined this evening ending, Lillian. Of course I got a room.”

  Ugh.

  Lillian gently pulls her hands away from him and remains seated. “It’s a shame to waste good scotch. Would you like another?”

  There’s a razor-sharp pause. I imagine the doubt going through Blaine’s head, and we haven’t gotten anything we can use for evidence.

  “What’s going on here, Lillian?”

  I hear her short, quick breath. She knows, too. Setting down her glass, she smiles tightly and glances my way. My heart flips twice at the pleading in her expression. No, Lillian. Don’t!

  “On second thought, a room sounds great.” She loops her hand through his arm. “Lead the way.”

  She’s not supposed to leave. I’m torn between finding Dom and following her. In a split second, I decide. I need to see which room they are going into, and then I’ll call Dominic.

  I get up and sneak from the shadows. I follow at a distance until I see them approach an elevator. The lobby is mostly deserted, so I maneuver behind the six-foot potted ferns and peek out.

  The elevator opens and they step in. But instead of going up, they go down.

  To the basement.

  Something’s wrong. Shit. I pull out my cellphone and try to call Dom as I hurry to the other elevator and stab the call button. It’s all the way at the top floor, there’s no time to wait. Damn it! I take the stairs instead, hurrying down.

  Voicemail. “Pick up, Dom! They’re heading for the basement!”

  I hang up and try again, but this time I just get beeps. No reception.

  I can’t stop now, not with Lillian alone with Blaine. I keep heading down into the depths of the stairwell. Finally I reach the door to the basement garage and yank it open.

  “He gets everything he wants.” I hear Blaine’s voice from somewhere inside “Not this time. I’m winning this one!”

  The parking garage is dim and it takes me a second to adjust my eyes. I spot Blaine pulling Lillian toward a car a few rows away. I crouch down to stay out of sight and creep after them. I have no idea what I’m going to do once I get closer, but I can’t let Lillian out of my sight.

  “I think you’re taking this too far, Blaine.” Her voice shakes. She’s scared. “You know I want to help. Just bring the car up from the basement. I’ll wait for you inside—”

  “I’ve waited for you long enough!” Blaine suddenly grabs Lillian and slams her backwards into a car. She cries out in pain. “You never noticed me, did you? You were so obsessed with Dominic!”

  “Please, Blaine, get hold of yourself.” Lillian’s trying her best to keep it together. “Just calm down, and we can talk about this. Over a romantic dinner—”

  “Bullshit!” Blaine yells. “Don’t think I can’t see what you’re doing. You’re toying with me, just like you’ve kept those Rexford idiots dangling. Well, I’m not going to fall for it anymore. I should have cut Xander’s brakes myself!”

  He slaps her across the face, hard. Lillian reels back in shock.

  I panic. He’s losing it. Even from across the parking garage, I can see his crazed expression. We didn’t plan for this, and now Lillian is right in harm’s way.

  Think.

  I force myself to stay calm. I look around. We’re alone in the basement. If I tried to run for help, he might spook and hurt Lillian more. And if he gets her in a car, he could take her anywhere. Do anything. But what can I do to help?

  I start peering in car windows, still out of sight. I need something to use as a weapon, anything to stop him before it’s too late. Finally, just a few cars away from them, I see a toolbox on the backseat, and beside it, a tire iron.

  Yes!

  I try the door, and almost cry out in relief when it opens. Thank God. I reach inside and grab the tire iron, all the while listening to Blaine raving, totally out of his mind now.

  “You think I don’t know you’re all laughing at me?” he yells, as Lillian cowers. He’s gripping her arm so tightly she can’t get away. “You and Dom and Xander, you always had everything, and you never let me in. Well, we’ll see who’s laughing when I take the Rexford. I’ll kill you, and Xander. I’ll take everything Dom ever loved, until he has nothing!”

  I take a deep breath and start to edge closer. I creep out from the parked cars and approach Blaine from behind. If I can just get close enough—

  But I’m still six feet away when Lillian’s eyes go wide. She’s seen me, and she doesn’t cover quickly enough. Blaine whirls around. There’s no time. He shoves Lillian aside and lunges toward me as I raise the tire iron and swing with everything I have.

  CRACK.

  The iron catches him on the shoulder. He stumbles with a pained grunt, but it’s not enough. He lunges for me again. Lillian leaps up and grabs his shirt as he comes towards me, but he throws her down and she hits the concrete with a cry of pain.

  “Who the fuck are you?” Blaine demands, breathing heavily. “Oh yeah, the latest whore. Still think your precious Dom is worth all of this?”

  “He’s ten times the man you’ll ever be,” I spit back, wielding the tire iron. I’m trying to be brave, but I’m terrified. Blaine is bigger than me, and stronger – and he’s got a wild look in his eyes. He’s not thinking straight right now.

  Suddenly, Blaine lunges again with a savage cry. I try to swing, but I’m not fast enough. He grabs the tire iron from my hands and yanks it away. Then he’s on me, barreling me to the ground. I struggle, but he’s too big. He
gets his hands around my neck, squeezing hard.

  I flail, trying to escape. He’s crushing my throat. I can’t breathe!

  I grab Blaine’s wrists, struggling as my lungs burn for air. He won’t move. I can’t do this. Things are just getting hazy, when I hear a loud yell. Blaine is yanked off me, and air fills my lungs in a cool rush.

  I struggle upright, reeling, in time to see Dom slam Blaine’s face in a fierce right-hook. Blaine falls to the ground, but Dom doesn’t stop. He hits him hard, over and over, until Blaine’s face is a broken mess of blood and bone.

  “Stop!” I manage to gasp, pulling Dom back. “That’s enough.”

  Dom freezes, panting heavily. “It’s over,” I tell him, seeing Lillian sitting up against a car. Even after everything, she’s smoothing down her hair and checking her makeup. She’ll be OK. “It’s all over now.”

  He holds me close. I hear sirens in the distance as I sink against him, his arms tight around me like he’s never letting go.

  Chapter Eleven

  It turns out that the one thing we needed to turn the Rexford around was a huge, juicy scandal. The press was all over the story before the cops had finished hauling Blaine Prescott away. His black and blue face made the cover of every newspaper in town, busted lip and all. By the next morning, we were fully booked, with a waiting list a mile long.

  The Rexford is back in business.

  I want to get back to work ASAP, but Dom won’t hear of it.

  “You need to recover and rest up,” he insists the next night, when I meet him at the hotel.

  “I can rest at work. At my desk,” I protest, laughing as he guides me through the lobby. “Now, are you going to tell me what this surprise is all about?”

  “If I did, then it wouldn’t be a surprise.” Dom winks as he hustles me into an elevator.

  I kiss him the minute the doors close, savoring the feel of him against my body. I expect him to take me to his suite, but instead, when we get off on the top floor, he takes me to a stairwell, and up another level.

  “I don’t think I’ve ever been up here,” I say, looking around.

  “Just wait.”

  Dom leads me down a narrow hallway. We’re under the eaves of the rafters here. “They used to house the servants up here,” he tells me. “Now it’s all storage. Almost all.”

  He stops at a door at the end of the hall, and unlocks it with an old-fashioned key.

  The door swings open, and I gasp.

  “Dom!”

  I step inside, not believing my eyes. The small room is like a time capsule from the past: rich brocade drapes, an antique rug, and a massive four-poster bed made with fresh linens. But it’s the view that takes my breath away: all of the city spread before us out of the window, twinkling like jewels.

  “I don’t understand. I thought I’d seen all the guest rooms. This isn’t on any of the manifests.”

  Dom smiles. “I’ve been having it restored as a special surprise. A secret. Off the books. Just for us.”

  “Us?” I’m overwhelmed. I can’t believe he found a way to create a secret hideaway for the two of us right here in the hotel.

  “Do you want a drink?” Dom asks. “I have champagne, chocolates, everything your heart could desire.”

  “I only want one thing,” I tell him, bold. “You.”

  Dom pauses, and I see the lust flare in his eyes.

  “Take off your clothes and let me look at you.”

  The dominant tone of his voice makes my stomach twist. I shiver, and do as he says: slowly stripping off my dress and heels until I’m standing naked in my bra and panties.

  Dom slowly circles me. “God,” he says, his voice thick with lust. “From the moment I first saw you… Nobody else has this power over me. Only you.”

  My nipples harden. My thighs clench. I’m already wet, waiting to feel his touch, hear his wicked commands.

  “Are you ready for me?” he growls. I nod. “Show me,” he demands. “I want to see you touch yourself.”

  My legs go weak, but I manage to stay in place. Slowly, teasingly, I begin to stroke my breasts and bare stomach. I hold his gaze, showing him just how much I want him.

  I tug my panties down, kicking them aside. I stroke my clit and moan softly, and Dom’s jaw tightens.

  “How do you want it?” he asks roughly. “Do you want my hands on you, my fingers inside you? My tongue fucking your sweet cunt?”

  Oh God, he’s so hot.

  I could melt in a puddle, but I stand firm and shake my head.

  Dom arches an eyebrow, looking amused. “Say it.”

  I bite my lip, flushing. “I want your cock.”

  “Where?” Dom smirks. He’s close enough to touch, but the distance between us is electric.

  “Inside me,” I gasp. “Deep. Please, Dom. I need you.”

  “Then ride me.” Dominic yanks his pants down and sits back on the bed. “Ride my dick and take me as deep as you want.”

  Fuck yes.

  I don’t need to be told twice. His cock is standing erect, so thick and ready for me, but I want to make him wait too – tease him, just a little.

  I drop to my knees and take him in my mouth.

  “Fuck!” Dom groans as I take him all the way, lost in the texture and taste of him on my tongue. Sucking, sliding and caressing with my mouth, I drive him crazy, right to the brink, just the way he’s tormented me. Then I rise to my feet.

  He looks like he could devour me right now.

  Good.

  I playfully push him back on the bed, then straddle him, positioning myself over his gorgeous cock. I sink down in one blissful movement, all the way, taking him right to the hilt.

  Fuck.

  I arch, grinding against him. He feels so good inside, every fucking inch. Dom grabs my hips as I move, helping me glide up and down until I’ve found a fast, incredible rhythm. Tilting his hips, he angles his cock to hit just right, sending shocks through my clit with each thrust. Fast. Hard.

  More.

  His hips slam up into me, thrusting deeper than ever. Fuck. I can’t hold back, it’s too good. I come screaming his name, an epic orgasm that shatters me into a thousand pieces, convulsing so hard I feel his own climax rip from his body.

  We collapse back on the bed, breathing hard.

  “Wow,” I gasp. “I’m liking this room already.”

  He chuckles. “Any time you like, my darling. Just say the word. Always.”

  The word lingers between us with new meaning. I turn to look at him, my heart suddenly beating faster in my chest.

  “Always?” I echo, not wanting to hope.

  “Forever.” Dom says, and I can see it in his eyes, he means it.

  Happiness floods through me.

  “Yes,” I whisper. “Forever.”

  THE END

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  BOOTYCALL: PART ONE

  Chapter 1

  Dylan

  Movie reviews are bullshit, but I like to think the one that said I have the ‘eyes of a man before the kill and the smile of one who enjoys it’ got it right.

  At least tonight, anyway.

  I’ve spent almost the entire day working out, and though there’s a dull ache flowing through my body, there’s also that tingle of electricity I get whenever I stand still for too long. A twinge in my muscles that makes me want to move, to find some action. Luckily I know all the right places to find it.

  I step out of the shower and towel myself off as I walk into the bedroom, grabbing the beer I left on the desk and downing all of it. It’ll take a lot more than beer to cool
off the energy that’s gathering momentum inside of me though. There’s a song with a slow beat and a growling guitar playing, and the dusty light of a dying LA sun highlighting parts of my room through the blinds. I grab my phone as I settle on the edge of the bed and spin through the contacts.

  I pause before hitting dial on a friend. I could dress sharp and head out to the bars of Los Angeles, get plenty drunk, and see where my instincts lead me – most likely my place or hers – but that’s not what I want tonight. I love the thrill of the chase, but I’m ready for action right now.

  Then there’s ‘Hot Ass,’ ‘Kinky Blonde,’ ‘Finger Sucker,’ ‘Leggy Redhead,’ and all the other girls with talents memorable enough to give them a special place in my contacts, but even that won’t cut it.

  Tonight I want something dirty. Something new. Something a little dangerous. My body’s thirsting for a new taste.

  I walk through the long hallway and down the staircase that runs to the gigantic den of the mansion, big and empty but for the expensive toys and random beer bottles lying around. I open the BootyCall app on my phone and it presents me with a big green button, the word ‘chat’ written across it like a big understatement. I swipe it with my thumb and hold the phone to my ear.

  “Hey,” comes a dark, husky voice on the other end. Now this is more like it. I pour myself some of the whiskey I keep on the coffee table and stretch out on the couch.

  “Hello there.”

  “So. What you looking for?” she says, making it clear what she’s looking for herself.

  “I’m not sure. But I’ll know when I find it.”

  She laughs, and it sounds like she’s making love to the phone.

  “I like your accent,” she says. “Where you from?”

  “I’m Irish.”

  “Ooh,” she coos appreciatively. “You got money?”

  It’s not my favorite question, but hey, this is Hollywood after all. If I didn’t fuck girls who said stuff like this I’d be a monk here.

  “Yeah,” I say, smiling, “I’m fucking loaded. You got a nice rack? Since we’re asking personal questions and all.”

  “Thirty-four double-dees. As good as money can buy.”