Stood Up (Billionaire Up #1)

by Ryan Michele

  Mason rolls me to my side; my eyes close, and exhaustion hits me like a lead balloon. I’ve never had sex be so good, so exhausting that sleep was a must afterward.

  “Sleep,” he says, kissing my lips and holding me close, his cock still inside of me. I succumb.

  I wake with a start. My eyes searching the room then remembering where I am. Strong arms hold me tight, and between my legs is deliciously sore and a bit sticky. He took me three more times during the night, waking me up once with his dick already inside of me pumping in and out. I lost count of the orgasms. All I know is my body is relaxed and happy. Hopefully also stockpiled for a long while.

  Light peers through the curtains that I didn’t pay much attention to last night, and I look over at the clock. Shit. Nine-thirty. I have a client meeting at noon.

  Ever so carefully, I pull out of his arms and exit the bed feeling Mason trickle down my leg. Holy hell, that man filled me up. I enter the bathroom that is off to the side of the room. I do my business and clean myself up as best and as quiet as I can. A shower when I get home is a must.

  Exiting, I slip on my dress and grab my shoes. I’ve never done the walk of shame before, so I’m taking this as another rite of passage. Two in the course of twenty-four hours. This is a world record for me. I’m turning into a rebel. Not.

  I look at Mason. The sheet only covers his bottom half, and with his arms raised above him every muscle is taught and defined. I really can’t believe I slept with him. And liked it. No, loved it.

  One night. I remind myself, shake my head, grab my purse on the way out and leave.

  I’ll never see Mason Dean again, but he’ll always be a fantastic memory.

  Chapter 5

  Aiden

  “I can’t believe you!” Lila chastises, sitting at my kitchen table across from me, a hot cup of coffee in her hands. “I mean, you went home with him and you fucked all night? What’s gotten into you, Aiden!”

  “Lila, you act as though I’m a damn nun or something.” Taking a sip of my hot brew, I let the warmth fill me. Since leaving Mason’s bed a day ago, I’ve felt very cold and unable to get myself warm like I was in his arms. It’s a very sucky feeling that I’m not liking one bit.

  “I know that, but…”

  I interrupt, “Lila, that Drake guy was not my type. Why did you even think I’d want to be with him?”

  She stills for a moment then leans back in her chair. “He reminded me of the other men you dated, and I thought you’d like him.”

  “Exactly, Lila. I told you I didn’t want that.”

  “You said that, but…”

  “Honey, you need to listen to me. I don’t want that type of man anymore, and I’m not going on anymore blind dates.”

  She lets out a huff. “Fine.” Then changes gears quickly. “So tell me about Brad’s boss. He’s such a dick, what did you see in him?”

  “Hate to tell you this, but he’s not a dick. At least not to me.” I go on to describe my night with Mason, reliving each touch and caress of his lips and hands. I can still feel him phantomly inside of me moving in and out. When I lick my lips, I remember how he did the same. Damn, I really need to get a grip.

  Lila’s mouth hangs open as her hands grasp the cup in front of her, eyes wide in shock.

  “That’s how I feel,” I joke, taking my last sip of brew.

  “And that’s it. No I’ll call you or we’ll go out on a real date or anything?” she throws out.

  “That’s it. I got up and left before any of that could be discussed. It was a whim, Lila. A night to be free and feel. It’s over and time to move on.”

  “He really is a dick,” she growls. “A hot, sexy, rich dick, but dick nonetheless.”

  “Why would you think that? I’m the one who left. Sure, he was probably grateful I did, but it’s all on me, Lila. No need to be pissed at him. Besides, he gave me a kickass night. I felt safe, had a ton of orgasms, and my body feels really good.”

  “So, is this going to be your thing now? Going out to find random men to sleep with?”

  I glare. “Yeah, that’s exactly where I was going with this. I figure I’ll just start hooking up with randoms at restaurants and take them for a test ride every night. You know, kind of like a car. Ride them once, and then I’m out.”

  Lila rolls her eyes. “I get it—that was a stupid thing to say. Sorry.”

  I smile. “It’s good, Lila. He got what he wanted, and I got what I needed. It was a great night, and it’s over.”

  “Fine.”

  “I’m really okay. Don’t worry about me so much, Lila.”

  She huffs in air. “It’s my job, get over it.” To this I smile.

  I rise from the table and grab the pot of coffee, refilling hers and then mine.

  “You know, Drake is pissed as all hell.”

  This catches my attention. “He’s the one that fucked up.”

  “True. Brad told him he should have called and they got into it.” This on one hand sucked because the two were friends and I’d hate for their relationship to get messed up because of something so meaningless in the grand scheme of life. “Drake said something about how Mr. Dean just took control of you in the restaurant.”

  I burst out laughing. “You really think anyone is going to control me, Lila?” I had enough of that with the guy before Greg. No thank you.

  “No, but he was pretty persistent even going as far as to say Mr. Dean forced you to leave with him. That he watched from the door of the restaurant and it didn’t look like friendly conversation.”

  “It wouldn’t with Mason’s tongue down my throat.”

  Lila chuckles, “I can see this.”

  “Drake got his feelings hurt. He’s the one that should have called. Now, I didn’t plan on going with Mason, it was just a right time, right place kind of deal. I don’t regret it though, Lila. It was fantastic and just what I needed. To have a man like him treat me as if I were the most desirable thing on the planet and follow through with it. Fate had it that I was there. He was there and now, it’s over. Not to mention he put his hands on me, that’s an automatic out.”

  “Are you sure it’s over?” Lila asks as I sit her now topped off coffee in front of her.

  “Yes. One night.”

  “You don’t sound so sure of that.”

  While I could go another round, Mason Dean is history. “I am Lila.”

  Lila and I turn the conversation to meaningless chitchat where we laugh and enjoy one another. The entire time Mason Dean niggles in the back of my mind.

  “Right on time,” Mr. James says, opening his office door as I enter. His office is quite expansive with light wooden furniture and several windows along the wall. I move directly to the chair in front of his wide desk sitting down.

  “Nice to see you dressed up,” he grumbles. Brantley James is a handsome man with short blond hair and the bluest eyes I’ve ever seen. The problem is, he’s grumpy and moody, but to me there is a reason behind it. I don’t see it as it being his natural self. It’s as if something or someone has put him in this mood. Whatever it is, I hope he figures it out and quick.

  Brantley James reminds me a lot of Mason. Broody, demanding, an arrogance of control around him. Not to mention very very attractive, but he doesn’t do what Mason does to me with a single breath.

  Two of the three times I’ve met with Mr. James, he’s commented on my clothes. I dress casual for work, normally in jeans and nice shirts. Of those two times he saw me in my jeans, he called impromptu meetings. The first time I met with him I did wear a professional skirt. Sometimes I have moods of my own.

  Today, I have on well-worn jeans that have a slight tear or two and light green top. Nothing fancy, but I’m comfortable and do my best work that way.

  “Nice to see you, too.” I open up my bag and pull out the papers. “I’ve isolated the problem.” Mr. James takes his seat behind the desk, and we get to work. I’m damn good at my job and nail out a solution for Mr. James in twenty minute
s. The entire time the man doesn’t smile, but I feel in my gut it has nothing to do with me. It’s none of my business, but I can’t help the curiosity there.

  Thirty minutes later, I’m back at my office calling a guy I contract for my tech needs and having him set up a new program for Mr. James’ inventory.

  I already feel damn accomplished, and it’s only two o’clock.

  My cell rings as I lay on my couch watching mind-numbing television in my pajamas. I ate a nasty salad for dinner, reminding me I need to go to the grocery store and get some real food quick. I look to the caller display and it says Greg calling. What the ever-loving fuck?

  I swipe the ignore button and toss my phone beside me on the couch. I’ve got nothing to say to him, and he sure as hell has nothing to say about me. No thanks. The television blares, catching my attention as two reality stars begin arguing like they’re three-years-old fighting over a toy they each want. It’s a guilty pleasure of mine, even though I want to jump in and fix everything. The main thing is—get off a reality show!

  I chuckle to myself. Oh what a tangled web we weave.

  Chapter 6

  Aiden

  Another day, another problem.

  Normally, I’m perfectly fine with solving businesses problems, but today I’m off my game. Why? Because of one simple email that I keep staring at, wondering what the hell is going on.

  Ms. Porter,

  I am in need of your services. I have a very large problem that I need your assistance with. Please meet me at my office at three-thirty pm today.

  Mason Dean

  Four days and not a word from him. Not that I expected one because I didn’t leave the man my number. But then all of the sudden bam, Tuesday morning rolls around and this pops up in my email. He sent it to the work email I have listed on my website, but the words don’t sound professional at all. Or maybe I’m just thinking the wrong way and feeding more into it.

  I can still feel Mason in my body even though it’s days later and have thought about him constantly. He was always in the back of my mind no matter what I tried to do to make it stop. I slept with the man—it was phenomenal, but that doesn’t constitute him haunting my thoughts. I run my fingers through my hair, giving it a frustrated tug.

  I already have a stack loaded with issues from several companies. I really shouldn’t take on anyone else, but the thought of seeing Mason again sends a spark through me. I miss his touch, his laugh. Listen to me. I slept with the guy one night. I don’t even know his favorite food for goodness sake. Yet, I do know what he feels like inside me and running out of me. Shit. Shit. Shit.

  This is business. I can handle business and keep it professional. I hit reply.

  Mr. Dean,

  Thank you for contacting me for my services. I’ll be happy to meet with you to discuss your problem.

  Aiden Porter

  I hit send right before I reread it and groan. My services? It sounds like I’m talking about sex. Maybe subconsciously I am. Hell, who am I kidding, there’s no maybe to it. Not two seconds later, I get a reply.

  Ms. Porter,

  Your services are much needed. I look forward to seeing you. Don’t be late.

  Mr. Dean

  I can hear the demand in the last sentence as if he were right in my ear whispering low. My arousal picques, and I dampen. I slam my head to my desk.

  This should be interesting.

  My heart hammers in my chest as the elevator doors close in the sleek Excel building. With each tick of the numbers, my nerves threaten to overtake me. Mason is waiting for me up there. That shouldn’t make me feel good, but it does. Well, and scares me at the same time.

  I’ve never slept with a client before. So, I’m not sure the protocol here. Where’s the how-to book when you need it?

  Just be professional and act like the other night didn’t happen.

  The elevator stops, and the doors open just as I scoff to myself because I could never forget Mason’s touch or the way his weight felt to top of me. A woman with honey blonde hair and a meticulously pressed suit enters and pushes the button then turns her back to me dismissively.

  My clothes are nice and professional, considering what I normally wear to the office, but by some divine intervention, I wore a skirt and blouse today. The pencil skirt hugs all my curves, and the gray color brings out the blue in my hazel eyes. My white button-down shirt is unbuttoned at the collar and a couple down, but my boobs aren’t out there on display. When I woke up, I felt the urge to dress a little nicer for some reason. This is my reason—Mason Dean.

  My dark brown auburn hair streams down my shoulders in a subtle wave, and my heels make my calves look awesome. That’s not being cocky, that’s being real. I feel good in what I’m wearing, therefore my confidence comes out. Well, professionally. Seeing Mason again kind of nulls the point.

  The doors slide open as the bell dings for the twenty-seventh floor. The woman on with me steps out as do I. She turns, going directly to the bank of doors on the left and entering. The space is modern and very well lit. An older woman sits at a reception desk, a wide smile on her face. Her hair is a dark brown and cut very short but enough to curl.

  “May I help you?” she asks, and I move to her. She has a sense of calmness that allows me to feed on, and I’m thankful.

  “I have an appointment with Mr. Dean.”

  “Your name?”

  The door opens to the right, the opposite side of where the woman went in. I turn to it, and my breath catches in my throat. Dressed in an impeccable solid black suit with a light blue button-up shirt and navy blue tie, he looks sexy as all hell. The way he stands there, a small smirk on his face, but more confidence than any one man should have, arouses me like no other. I’ve been around a lot of men in my job, but not one made me feel or got me hot like Mason Dean has just by breathing.

  “Ms. Porter,” he says casually like it’s our first time officially meeting, and he hadn’t had his dick inside me a few days ago. But he doesn’t come and shake my hand, giving the impression we’ve already met—so I may have my wires crossed, but with him so close that’s not a surprise. “Please come this way.” He steps to the side and motions with his arm in a sweeping gesture to the door he came out of.

  Putting on my most professional smile, I make my way to him, hearing the click of my heels on the tiled floor and the receptionist typing on a keyboard behind me. Each sound that thumps matches my heart rate and increases my body temperature.

  His office is enormous, just like his home. There’s a kitchenette off in a corner and a full living room set sets in the other; one of the brown leather couches faces the windows which offer a fantastic view of downtown. Off to the other side is a huge mahogany desk reminding me of all the wood in his bedroom. Then all the things we did in that bedroom.

  Pull your shit together, Aiden.

  The door clicks shut, then I hear the distinct sound of a deadbolt being latched. I turn swiftly to Mason who, in fact, locked the door. When our eyes meet, I take an involuntary step back at the fierceness in his. I’m not sure if he’s angry, turned on, or both.

  He takes a step closer to me, negating the distance I tried to put between us.

  “You left.” His tone is accusatory and clipped. He’s definitely not happy about me leaving, but he has no right to be. It was one night. That’s all it will be, even if he’s standing so close to me I can touch him, making my hands itch and shake to do so.

  “Yes, I did,” I confirm.

  “Why?” Mason seems generally concerned about this question, so I answer.

  “Because our night was over. We both got what we needed, and it was time to move on. Now, what can I help you with?”

  The snake around the subject doesn’t work with Mason. He steps even closer, but this time I hold my ground. I have nothing to be ashamed of.

  “Move on?” he growls, putting his arm around my waist and pulling me flush with his hot, hard body. Having nowhere to put my hands, I focus them on th
e collar of his jacket but don’t push back. The why is unknown. “I haven’t had my fill of you yet.”

  “I…”

  His lips crash down to mine, stealing my words and my breath. I give in to the kiss because what else can I do. He feels so nice. So warm. So damn perfect. He takes the kiss deeper and groans in pleasure, rousing me inside.

  Mason pulls back and moves to my neck. I arch giving him better access. As his lips devour my skin, my clit pulses in tune with each lick and nip.

  He sucks my earlobe into his mouth, and if I had the slightest bit of friction, I would come. Lazily, he moves to my ear. “I’m going to spank that pretty, little ass red.”

  My breath catches at the thought. My core throbs, and I squeeze my ass cheeks.

  “Like that thought, do ya?” he asks back at my ear. “Going to bend you over my desk, lift that sexy as fuck skirt, and spank that ass until I think you’ve learned your lesson. Then I’m going to fuck you, hard and deep so you walk out of my office bowlegged.”

  My knees go weak, and if it weren’t for his arm holding me up I would have fallen. How can this man do this to me? Make me want. Need. Just with words. By his mere presence.

  No, this isn’t right.

  Swiftly, I maneuver out of his arms, only because he wasn’t expecting it, and his angry growl tells me his feelings on it. I hold my hands up warding him off. I need to think, and having him so close is not good for my brain.

  “I’m here in a professional capacity. If you don’t need me, I’m leaving.”

  “Oh, I need you alright.” I move, but he catches me. “You want this just as much as I do.”

  He’s right. I want him. Every inch of him.

  Is there something wrong with me?

  Chapter 7