That was when she knew what he wanted from her.
“Don’t call me that,” she purred.
Straight away she heard Thomas sigh. “God, I’ve missed fucking you.” From the other end of the line, she heard the sound of his belt buckle unclicking.
“Are you sure you want to do this?” she said.
“If you could see how hard I am for you right now, you wouldn’t be asking that,” Thomas replied.
His words sent spasms of arousal running through her. She remembered his cock, the taste of it in her mouth, the sensation of it sliding into her, filling up every part of her. She wished desperately to feel it again, to touch it, to see it, but there was no way. Unless...
Sasha thought of the previous evening, of the way she’d made herself climax watching the video of them together.
“Have you seen the sex tape?” she said.
“No. Why?”
“Put it on.”
She heard Thomas laugh. “You kinky little thing.”
She hurried over to her own computer, her legs already feeling weak beneath her. She went online and found the footage. On the other end of the phone, she could hear Thomas clicking buttons.
“Put on the one in the bedroom,” she said. “I want to see your body.”
She hadn’t seen that one yet, and from her memory, it was the moment she had given Thomas an orgasm as good as he had given her. But she could hear Thomas’s hesitation. That was the video that showed his scarred body, something he had been deeply insecure about before Sasha.
“Can we watch the other one?” he said.
“Thomas, if I don’t get to see your cock, I’m hanging up.”
He laughed again. “You drive a hard bargain, intern.”
“Don’t call me that.”
Sasha clicked play and the video began. Seeing the bedroom in Thomas’s Chicago apartment brought back a whole host of sensations to her—the silk sheets beneath her back, the feel of Thomas’s throbbing, thrusting penis inside of her, the feel of his fingernails digging into the flesh of her ass as he wrenched her body into him, and the glorious moment when they’d reached climax simultaneously and their bodies had pulsated in unison. But more than anything, it reminded her of Thomas’s vulnerability, of the bridge he’d crossed for her that day, of the emotional connection that had been forged between them in that moment.
“Do you remember?” she whispered into the phone.
“I remember,” came Thomas’s breathless reply.
On the video, Sasha was unbuttoning Thomas’s shirt and opening it up, pressing kisses down his scarred flesh as she went. Then she moved her mouth to Thomas’s nipple. His on-screen gasp was matched by one down the phone.
“That was the first time,” she said, “that a woman had licked you there.”
“Yes,” he whispered.
She watched as Thomas lay back against the silk sheets and she ran her tongue over his muscled skin before her hands stroked down his chest and began to slowly unzip his fly.
“Are you taking your clothes off?” Sasha said into the phone. She listened to the sound of his fly unzipping in real life.
“Yes,” he said.
“Are you hard?”
“I’m hard.”
A thrill ran through her. She watched her on-screen version remove Thomas’s pants, revealing a huge erection over which she rolled a condom.
“Your cock is amazing,” Sasha said.
“Are you naked?”
“I can be,” Sasha replied. “What shall I take off first?”
“I miss your tits. Take off your bra.”
She did as he commanded. Her nipples were protruding from arousal. “Now what?” she said.
“I miss your taste. Take off your panties.”
She bit her lip and quickly slid off her panties. “I’m wet,” she said.
“How wet?” Thomas said.
“Soaking,” she replied.
He groaned.
She watched herself straddle Thomas and begin moving her hips slowly in a figure eight.
“Touch yourself,” she said into the phone. “Do it slowly.”
She heard him moan into the phone and watched him on the screen, guiding her movements with his hands on her ass. She slid her fingers inside her vagina and clenched as she remembered the sensation of Thomas’s cock moving within her.
“I wish you were licking me,” she said.
“I wish I was, too,” came Thomas reply. She could tell he was speaking between his teeth. “Are you masturbating?”
“Yes,” she replied with a gasp. “Slowly. Just like on the screen.”
The Sasha and Thomas on the film were beginning to move faster.
“Speed up,” Thomas said. “Do it faster.”
Sasha wedged her cell phone between her ear and shoulder, then brought her spare fingers to her clit, adding to the sensation of her fingers that were already inside of her. “It feels so good,” she gasped.
“Fuck,” came his strained reply.
On the screen, Thomas sat up and pulled his arms around her back, pulling her tightly into him. Sweat glistened off his skin, and the sheets were twisted beneath their bodies. Sasha felt her pleasure mounting as she watched them kissing, their mouths hungrily exploring one another’s. She watched her breasts squashed up against his muscular chest, the way her hair flowed down her back, and the way her ass looked as she began rocking gently.
“Your body is sublime,” Thomas said.
“I love watching myself fuck you,” she replied.
On screen, she was bouncing faster and harder, leaning back with her hands on his shoulders, kneading his flesh, and digging her fingernails into him. The look on her face was one of pure joy. Thomas on the video had his gaze locked on her, and his expression was like a snapshot of complete ecstasy. Seeing him so aroused by her made her start racing towards a climax.
“I’m coming,” she gasped.
“I want to hear.”
She held the phone close to her mouth, letting him hear each one of her panting breaths, each one of the moans that involuntarily came from her throat.
“I’m close,” Thomas said through his clenched teeth. “So fucking close.”
“Look”—Sasha gasped, so close to orgasming she could hardly speak—“at the screen.”
The Sasha and Thomas on-screen were pounding their bodies into one another, driven by sheer desire, absolute lust. Her hands were gripping his hair, his her ass. Their gazes were locked on each other. Then, they were both climaxing, at the same time, crying out in unison.
“There!” Sasha cried, and all at once she felt the muscles inside of her tighten around her fingers then begin to spasm as her orgasm took hold.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Thomas gasped, and then she heard him let out a guttural roar.
The sound of his orgasm over the phone and the sight of his orgasm on the screen made the feel of her own orgasm in the moment intensify. The throbbing wasn’t slowing, if anything it was getting even stronger.
“Fuck!” she cried.
“Yes. Yes. Keep going. Keep going.”
Finally, the Sasha and Thomas on the screen became still. In the real world, Sasha’s orgasm began to subside. Then the video cut out.
“Wow,” Thomas said, panting into the phone. “That was like having a foursome with myself.”
Sasha laughed, feeling dazed and breathless. Her cheeks were hot. “I know.” She took a deep breath. “Did you come?”
“Yes, absolutely everywhere.” Thomas let out one of his carefree chuckles. Then he exhaled. “We were so good together.”
“Yes, we were.”
“I wish…”
“What? What do you wish?”
There was a long silence.
“I wish that you hadn’t ruined it.”
The line went dead. Sasha listened to the sound of nothing.
“So do I.”
Chapter Twenty Six
Sasha looked at the black screen
of her cell phone. That was so typical of Thomas, taking her to the height of ecstasy one minute then bringing her crashing back down to earth the next. She was about to berate herself for always getting swept up in his game when she realized that a part of her liked it. The highs and lows of being with Thomas were the exact opposite of the stable niceness she’d had with Chris. That he could make her feel the whole gamut of emotions on the emotional spectrum was part of the reason why she loved him.
Love. There it was. That word again.
Sasha shook her head and began putting her discarded clothes back on. Her body pulsed with pleasure, every little nerve ending alive with sensation. Sex with Thomas had given her a newfound love of her body and all the things it could do. She would never have known how empowering it felt to watch herself have sex if it hadn’t been for Thomas. If there was anything good to come out of the whole scandal, that would be it.
She’d just put her clothes back on when she heard a strange noise coming from outside. She paced to the window but was stopped in her tracks by a shrill cry.
“Sasha!” her mom called.
Sasha bolted out her room and flew down the stairs. Her mom was in the living room, pointing wildly at the window.
“Someone was there!” she cried. “Someone was looking in!”
Stomach churning with anguish, Sasha pulled back the curtain and stared out at the black evening. She couldn’t see anyone.
She went to the front door and peered out through the peephole. There was no sign of a person.
“Whomever it was, they’ve gone,” she called back to her mother, trying to sound calm and in control. Inside, she felt anything but. She went back into the living room.
“Who would be snooping around?” Julia asked. She looked terrified, her eyes wide with fear.
“It was just one of Thomas’s fans,” Sasha said as nonchalantly as she was able. “I’ll let the cops know.”
As soon as she mentioned the cops, her mom’s scared eyes grew even wider.
“The police?” she cried, panicking. “Are we in danger?”
Sasha tried to calm her. “No, it’s okay. It just comes with the territory. They’ll be harmless, but it’s still good to send out a warning signal and let them know that it’s not okay to snoop around someone else’s property.” She tried a shrug, hoping it would make her look blasé about the whole thing. “It’s trespassing, ya know?”
Just then, there was a knock on the door. Sasha and Julia both jumped a mile, shattering Sasha’s pretend bravado in an instant.
“Don’t answer it!” she cried at her mother.
Julia was clearly panicking, looking around wildly. “The cops!” she shouted. “Call the cops!”
Before Sasha got a chance, a blinding light flashed through the curtains. Sasha never thought she’d be relieved to see the paparazzi, but intrusive pictures were preferable to a chopped off head.
“It’s just the paps,” she said with a huge exhalation. She put the phone back down. “We need to make sure the curtains are shut properly.”
She went over to the window and flipped the bird at the man standing on her lawn. The haters will just love that, she thought, as he snapped several pictures of her stern expression and rude gesture. She shut the curtains to block the view of the photographer outside.
“Let’s go into the kitchen, Mom,” she said. “We’ll have more privacy at the back of the house.”
Trembling, Julia agreed.
“Sasha,” she said, as her daughter pushed her through the hall in her wheelchair. “I wish you hadn’t gotten involved in all this nonsense.”
Guilt whirled inside of Sasha. So far, her mom had been pretty understanding. She’d welcomed her, soothed her, and made her feel safe and loved. This was the first indication she’d given that she was disappointed in Sasha’s behavior.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” Sasha said. “I wish I hadn’t either.”
Chapter Twenty Seven
Thomas’s security guard arrived that evening. Sasha recognized him as one of the men who’d accompanied them on his private plane when she’d first left Chicago.
“Bill, isn’t it?” she said, as she gestured him inside.
“Yup,” the man replied. He was a burly guy, all stocky and thick-necked, with peering, suspicious eyes.
“Do you want a coffee or anything?” Sasha asked.
The man glanced around the room. “Nope,” he said without looking at her.
Clearly, he wasn’t much of a conversationalist.
“Well, you just do whatever it is you do,” Sasha said. “I’ll be in the kitchen.”
“Uh huh.”
Sasha left the suspicious looking Bill standing in her living room and went to the kitchen to start making homemade pizza for dinner.
Pizza, she thought wryly. I’ve gone from oysters and lobsters to pizza.
It was odd how quickly she’d gotten accustomed to Thomas’s lifestyle. At first she’d felt so out of place in his world, so undeserving of his affection, but sometime after the makeover and Amore photoshoot, she’d kind of gotten used to it. Jacuzzis, private jets, red carpets—the more time she spent with Thomas the less strange it had started to feel.
Sasha put the pizza in the oven and went to wake her mom. Julia was upstairs having a nap. Sometimes, the MS could really zap her energy.
“Do you want any dinner?” she asked Bill as she passed. He was peering out of the window.
“Nope,” came his monosyllabic reply.
Wow, Sasha thought. He’s basically a robot.
Sasha was on her way up the stairs when her cell phone started ringing in her pocket. She pulled it out and saw Thomas’s name displayed on the screen.
“Hi,” she said, pausing on the landing for a moment.
“I’m sorry,” Thomas began. He sounded harried.
Sasha frowned. “Sorry about what?”
“The security guard,” Thomas said. “He was meant to be there by now, but his flight got delayed.”
“No problem, he arrived about half an hour ago.”
“What?” Thomas said.
“The security guy. He’s downstairs right now.”
“No, he’s not,” Thomas replied, sternly. “His plane hasn’t even landed yet.”
A pit of anguish began swirling in Sasha’s stomach. Her gaze darted down the stairs to find that Bill was standing in the hallway, watching her coolly.
Heart racing, she sidled along the landing and slipped into her bedroom. “It’s Bill,” she whispered. “Your security guard from the plane.”
“That’s not who I sent,” Thomas replied. “Bill and Ryan were employed by Pippa. I fired them after I fired her. I couldn’t trust them anymore.”
“Then what the hell is he doing in my house?” Her voice was becoming shrill.
There was a moment’s hesitation before Thomas replied, “Get out.”
Sasha’s heart started racing. “You don’t think he’s going to harm us, do you?”
“If Pippa can get your sweet ex-boyfriend to turn on you, who knows what else she’s capable of.”
Sasha was trying to remain calm, but the craziness of the last few days made anything seem possible. If she could go from unpaid intern scraping together an existence in Chicago to millionaire actor’s girlfriend, what was to say that Bill the security guard couldn’t become Bill the hit man?
“My mom is sleeping. I’d have to hoist her into her wheelchair. I can’t just run.”
“For God’s sake!” Thomas barked. “Then arm yourself at the least. You’re American, I’m sure you have baseball bat around somewhere.”
“Baseball? Thomas, do you even know me at all?!”
Just then, the fire alarm started blaring.
“Shit!” Thomas cried. “What’s happening now?”
From the room next door, Julia’s panicked voice sounded out. “Sasha? Sasha, what’s happening?”
The smell of smoke reached Sasha’s nostrils. “Shit. I think he’s…oh God, I
think he’s started a fire.”
“That’s it,” Thomas said. “I’m coming to get you.”
The phone went dead.
Sasha ran to her mom’s room. She was in bed looking panicked. Sasha raced into her arms.
“It’s okay, mom. Let’s see if we can get you up.”
She started heaving her mom up, ignoring all the safety instructions she’d been taught as a teen to make sure she protected her back. All she could think about was getting out the house as fast as possible.
Then she froze. There were heavy footsteps thundering up the steps and coming across the hallway towards them. Bill.
Oh God, Sasha thought.
The door creaked opened. Sasha gasped and swirled on the spot. Bill’s huge silhouette filled the doorway. He was holding something in his hands, something that was smoking.
“Please don’t hurt us,” Sasha cried.
“Huh?”
Bill stepped from the shadows of the hallway into Julia’s room, revealing that he was holding a burned pizza in his hands.
“Your dinner’s burned,” he said.
Chapter Twenty Eight
Sasha and Bill sat opposite one another with the charred pizza between them. Julia watched on, a deep frown line etched across her forehead.
“So Pippa didn’t send you to beat me up in an attempt to get back at me for having her fired?” Sasha said.
“Nope,” Bill replied.
“Then why are you here?”
Bill just shrugged. “I don’t ask questions.”
Sasha didn’t doubt that for a second. But she still demanded he tell her. “You must know why Pippa sent you here?”
Bill wasn’t giving away any of his secrets. The whole time he sat at their kitchen table, Julia seemed progressively more anxious, as though she was expecting him to attack at any moment.
“Look,” Sasha said. “You’re upsetting my mother. This isn’t a game. It’s serious. I mean, she must have tapped my phone, right, in order to send you over in the first place. So she’s treading some pretty illegal ground here. Why don’t you just fess up? Tell me what’s going on and I won’t get the cops involved.”
Bill peered out at her through his dark, beady eyes. “What makes you think Pippa sent me?”
CHASED (A Standalone Billionaire Romance Novel) Page 34
