Claire swallowed, opened her eyes and said, “Which way is Fiji?”
*****
THE END
BONUS STORY 2 ON NEXT PAGE
Seduced by a Billionaire
A Billionaire BWWM Romance
“Don’t make a sound…”
Aisha loved jogging on Zuma Beach in Malibu, but wished she had avoided it that Wednesday evening in early July. A few minutes before 8:30, the sun had just set. Daylight was fading away. She wore her usual, pink tank top, black leggings and her white sneakers, but, after being jumped from behind, she was lying on her back, pinned down by her assailant. He had covered her mouth with his left hand. A 4-inch long blade was on her left cheek; the feel of cold steel on her chocolate skin sent shivers down her spine. At first, Aisha considered throwing sand at him. However, the 6ft tall scrawny man had a black hood on and also wore goggles. Sand would not work. The 28-year old barmaid struggled to break free of his grip but to no avail. As athletic as she was, Aisha was no match for him. Her attacker had literally sat on her stomach, using his weight to pin her down. His left elbow was on her chest and her right shoulder, while his right elbow was partly on the sand and her left arm. Even kicking him in sensitive areas was out of the question. She could not reach him. Out of the corner of her eye, Aisha saw some light, forty yards to her right. There was a big, luxurious beach house nearby. During her long training sessions, she had always liked gazing at it. That house featured a large, iron front gate, with a driveway big enough to fit more than ten cars, 20x24ft glass façade on the ground floor and two windows, one on each side on the first floor. A small, 5x5ft bench was just ten feet to the left of the front gate. Aisha had always wondered who that house belonged to.
Aisha squinted at the mysterious man and twitched her legs several times. A few seconds later, she felt his blade going slowly down her neck, stopping in the middle of her chest, on the edge of her pink bra. Paralyzed with fear, Aisha’s screams for help were muffled by her assailant’s hand. Just when he was about to rip her bra, she heard footsteps on the sand. Someone was sauntering; Aisha could tell by his slow, relaxed pace. She had no time to think about anything, though. The man leaned forward and whispered in her left ear:
“I’m gonna take so much pleasure in this…”
The young barmaid was desperate. It could not get any worse. She could not even hear the footsteps she had heard earlier. The little hope she had of being rescued had vanished. All she could hear was the gentle splashing of waves on the sand. Nevertheless, Aisha would not give up. She kept trying to push him away with all her might. Undeterred, the mysterious man was not going to give up his prize. 5’7”, 128lbs, with big, black, oval-shaped eyes, long, black, curly hair, high, prominent cheekbones, high eyebrows, a silky skin and long, lush legs, Aisha was a stunning woman by any standards.
She closed her eyes, unwilling to watch the inevitable. In a split second though, she was free of his grip. Aisha popped her eyes open, only to catch a glimpse of a huge arm around her assailant’s throat, pulling him away from her. She had been rescued; her rescuer was much bigger than most men she had ever met. In the little available light, he towered over her - now in trouble - 6ft tall attacker. In a tight headlock, he kicked sand, as he was desperate to catch his breath and beat the rescuer’s arm with both his fists. But, just as Aisha was no match to him, the same could be said about her rescuer and her potential murderer. With his head just a few inches below the bigger man’s chest, he pled for mercy.
“Let me go, I can’t breathe…” Seconds after he finished his sentence, the attacker was thrown violently onto the sand. Meanwhile, Aisha was leaning against her shoulders, still attempting to come to terms with what had transpired. She could now see her rescuer’s back, even though he was more than twenty feet away. It was plainly massive. Aisha was right about his size. He was easily 6’4” and much stronger than her assailant.
Soon, she heard him slap and punch her attacker several times. Still dizzy and in shock, Aisha was about to burst into tears. She put both hands on her face and sighed. A tear rolled down her left cheek. However, the young barmaid was a strong, composed woman. Friends used to admire her for her courage and her tenacity to overcome pretty much everything life could throw at her. Having lost her parents in a horrific plane crash six years earlier, she studied Computer Science in UCLA and was looking for something better than her current line of work.
She rose to her 5’7” figure, then straightened her tank top and swept the sand from her black leggings. Her attacker was lying on the ground, moaning hard, when she heard the footsteps of her rescuer, approaching her. She looked up at him. He was a very big man, 6’4”, more than 220lbs, with a broad chest, short, straight, black hair, in a very expensive, beige, cashmere suit.
Just when Aisha tried to verbalize, the man smiled at her. His well-shaved face was square, manly and he also had a dimple on his chin.
“Are you ok?”
“I… think so. Thanks by the w…” At that point, the man raised his right hand at chest height.
“No need for that. Follow me.”
“Wait!” Aisha extended her left arm and placed it on his right shoulder.
“What’s your name?”
“Oh!” The man hit his forehead with his left wrist.
“I’m Sam Reigns.”
“Sam Reigns? The Sam Reigns? ‘CEO’ of Rocktech Internet Security?”
Rocktech was a major security software development company, employing more than 2,000 people and a big player in the electronics market. Reigns himself, although only 32 had become a very wealthy man by closing deals with many banks across the USA.
“That’s right.” He smiled at her again.
“Melt in your mouth pleasure, sweet and lovely. I just wish you hadn’t just been attacked. Then, I’d take you in my bedroom and give you a great time. Man, look at that body…” Sam was amazed by her great looks.
“What a true gentleman. He looks fantastic. I wish I met more guys like him…”
“I’m Aisha Wilson.”
“Nice to meet you, Aisha. I’d shake your hand, but…” Sam then raised his right hand in the air and showed it to her. There was some blood in his palm, right under his middle and index finger.
“It’s ok, I understand. What about him?” Aisha pointed at the unconscious man on the sand, eighteen feet across from her.
“Don’t worry. I’ll call the cops when we get in. Now, follow me.”
“Well, hold your horses, Sam. Can a girl catch her breath or something?” Aisha protested.
“After you…” Sam pointed at the bench and they both walked towards the bench. Still in a state of shock, Aisha sat on the bench and put her right hand on her chest. Sam lay back on the bench, raised his arms and placed them on the back of the bench, as cool and composed as a man can be. In spite of the fight he had just been into, the young man had kept his composure.
“Alright, I gotta ask. What the hell were you doing here?”
Aisha lowered her eyes and looked to her left, somewhat surprised by his remark.
“You’re not very perceptive, are you? Hello? Look at me!” Her voice got louder.
“Yeah, I get it, you were running on the beach and all, but did it have to be at dusk? Anyway, I’m just glad I needed that cigar. I think my nasty habit’s just saved your ass.”
“Yeah…” Aisha smirked.
“We wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to that great little ass of yours, would we?” Sam added.
“Now he’s messing with me. I’d probably tell him to go to hell, had he not saved me from that prick.” Aisha tried to get rid of the sand in her hair by running her fingers through it, one hand at a time.
“Well, you know what I do for a living. What about you?”
“I’m a barmaid. Not really loving it, but it’s a living. I’ve been through college, but that’s a long story.”
“Ok, you can tell me about it later. Now, I need a favor. There’s this big clien
t I’m after. His name’s Jack Martelle, he’s a banker. Have you heard of him?”
Aisha nodded.
“Good. All I want you to do is pretend you’re my fiancée. You don’t need to speak or anything. Just play along, nod, you know, be a woman and it’s all gonna be just fine. After tonight, you won’t have to see him or me again. We’re even, ok?”
Sam’s low tone seemed to have an effect on Aisha. He had a large vein on the right side of his forehead. He was so tense that she thought it was about to explode. Nonetheless, Aisha had been through a lot and needed a minute to take it all in. She had just been attacked. More than that, her attire was not suited for a special occasion.
“Um, hello? I don’t mean to sound ungrateful or anything, but can you take a minute and think about me here? I’m a mess…”
“He didn’t hurt you, did he? And don’t worry about clothes; my sister’s got dozens of fancy dresses upstairs.”
“Well, no, but…”
“Don’t. I don’t wanna hear about it.” Sam repeated his previous gesture, when he raised his right hand in the air. This time, it stopped just an inch away from her mouth. Then, he leaned forward, towards her and grabbed her by the shoulders, squinting at her.
“Aisha, the guy thinks I’m gay!” He whispered. The baffled woman stared at his stone-blue eyes and felt her pulse rising, but she could not help but burst into laughter.
“What’s so funny?” He asked.
“I… can’t do this right now.” Aisha could not stop laughing. She even averted her gaze from him and looked at the closed door, five feet to her right.
“What? You’re gonna bail on me?”
“No, I didn’t mean that. It’s just… You should have taken a look at yourself in a mirror or something.” Aisha finally stopped and faced him again.
“Alright. Let’s do this, then.”
Aisha followed Sam back to his beach house. They went past the driveway to the left and reached the service door, in the back.
A small light was on, right above the door. Sam stopped, flipped around and faced her. Only when they stepped into the light did she realize just how handsome he was.
“Do you need a reminder?”
“No, not really. I’m ready.”
Aisha pointed at the door with her right hand and seconds later, Sam pulled a key out of his left pocket. When they walked inside the house, the sight of the extremely tall ceiling stunned her. It had to be at least thirty feet tall, with a massive chandelier in the middle. The walls were entirely made of yellowish limestone. There was a big staircase to the right and a 10-by-12ft arch shaped door to the left, more than forty feet away from where they stood, across the staircase. The spotless, hardwood floor was shining under the ample, chandelier light. On the right side of the white wall, two, big, oil paintings, one depicting a sunset on a sandy beach. There was a mountain range on the other, with some snow on each peak. On the left, two more paintings: A replica of Picasso’s “Guernica” and Da Vinci’s “Joconda”. The detail on each painting was extreme. Those were not cheap fakes by any means.
“My sister’s wardrobe is the second door to the right. About that drink?”
“Oh, I prefer gin.” Aisha responded and quickly climbed the stairs. Upon reaching the top, she saw four doors to the right and two to the left. They all looked pretty much alike, made of oak, with golden doorknobs on the side, except the first door to the left. It had no knob on it. In fact, Aisha could not see any kind of lock on that particular door. Curious to see for herself what Sam meant by “fancy dresses”, Aisha opened the second door to the right and pressed the light switch on the left hand side of the wall.
“Oh, my God…” She murmured when she got in. Each side of the room was filled with all kinds of dresses, on separate hangers. Her attention was drawn to the first dress on the left. It was a beautiful, peach silk georgette dress with sparkling rhinestone accent, featuring a removable fabric flower and contoured hem with ruffle detail. The dress was fully lined and had a side zipper, on the right.
“I think I’ve died and gone to heaven…” Aisha checked for matching shoes in the tall shoe case further down the room, to the right. At the bottom, to the left, she found a pair of light pink, mare fabric dress pumps.
“Bingo…” The shoes were her size. She picked them up and heard someone knocking on the door. She opened it and saw no one. There was a silver tray on the floor, with a bottle of gin and a tall glass in it.
“Damn, that guy looks so gorgeous…” Aisha said to herself, before she downed her drink like a cowboy. It had already been a long night and she had no idea what to expect. She tried to forget the incident on the beach and focus on Sam. There was something different about him. He was a bit too cocky and did not show any understanding, but his manly looks and his deep voice had won her over. Even though Aisha was a beautiful woman, she had not had been in a relationship for more than six months and she missed being with a man. As a barmaid, she had met a few interesting guys, but no relationship lasted more than a few weeks.
“They all run like hell when things start to get a little too serious…” She used to say to her good friend, Ava. Of course, Aisha was right, at least to an extent. Men will not commit easily, much to her frustration.
Lost in her thoughts, Aisha changed clothes and had another two drinks of gin, before she stood in front of the body size mirror to the left. She looked wonderful in that outfit; her black, smooth skin seemed to glow in the pale light. The dress was tight on the chest, accentuating her cleavage and a little loose around the waist. Perfect for her athletic figure. The shoes emphasized her long, slender legs. She ran her fingertips across her curly hair and struck a pose. Then, she overheard two men climbing the stairs. One of them was Sam. The other voice belonged to someone much older than him. Aisha could tell by his tone: It was way too hoarse. She hastily put the glass and the bottle down, back on the tray, anticipating a knock on the door. The muttering outside stopped, briefly. A sound of a power door sliding open filled her ears.
“That must be the door I saw earlier…” Aisha felt a little dizzy; for a moment, she thought the room was spinning. She would only drink alcohol on special occasions. Had she been drinking every night, she would have ended up in “Alcoholics Anonymous”. That is probably the reason why she felt slightly intoxicated. It was not every day she had three drinks of gin in a matter of a few minutes.
She straightened her dress and tried to snap out of it. Right after that, she heard someone approaching the door, in a slow, relaxed manner. There was only one man she had met that night who walked like that: Sam.
“Sweetheart, may I come in?”
“Yeah, come on in.”
Sam opened the door. The young athlete he had saved earlier had turned into a gorgeous woman, feminine, classy and dashing.
“Wow… Just wow.” He mouthed silently to her and clapped his hands three times.
“Are you sure you’re not a model?”
“Smooth talker. I like that…”
Aisha gave him a broad smile, for a first time that night. Before they left the room, he closed the door behind him and went closer to her. He then took her right hand in his palms and tried to refresh her memory.
“Ok, do you remember what I told you outside? That prick’s in my study. I gotta make a good impression and I need you by my side. Are you sure you can handle this?”
Aisha wasted no time in answering his question.
“Hell, yeah…” She chirped. Sam paused for a few seconds and stared at her from top to bottom. A crooked smile formed on his face. It was more than obvious to Aisha that he had something in mind, but he would not share it with her.
“Alright, let’s do this…” Sam’s commanding tone returned, as he led Aisha towards the room across the hall. He had left the power door open. There was an elderly man in Sam’s spacious study. He was almost completely bald and only had some white hair on his temples. In a navy blue suit, carefully reading a newspaper in front of hi
m. He had sat in a black, leather armchair to the left of Sam’s, white, wooden desk. The room was filled with posters of sports cars. Right above Sam’s executive armchair, the picture of a red Ferrari 458 Italia. To the right, more posters of several other cars: Lamborghinis, McLaren’s, Zondas and Porsches.
“Man, this place is oozing with testosterone.” Aisha’s mind was filled with every possible word to characterize a macho man like Sam. Nevertheless, she had a job to do and did not want to ruin everything her savior had prepared.
As soon as they entered Sam’s study, the old man literally popped out of his luxurious armchair and looked at Aisha, right into her eyes. His jaw dropped; Aisha had drawn his attention.
“There she is! Damn, Sammie you got a great taste!” He groaned hoarsely and opened his arms for a big hug. He was much shorter than Sam. A lot less than 6ft, nearly as tall as Aisha, not counting her heels.
“You never mentioned she was black, but hell, she looks so fine, Sammie. Name’s Jack Martelle, dear. I am the president of ‘People’s Bank’, New York. Nice to meet you.” The young woman would be a lot more embarrassed if it had not been for the alcohol. She smiled at him and offered her right hand politely for a handshake.
“My name is Aisha Wilson. Nice to meet you, Mr. Martelle.”
Meanwhile, Sam stood behind her, watching Jack’s every reaction. Taking a cleansing breath, he sat back in his executive chair, while Aisha sat in the large, black, leather couch across his desk and crossed her legs. Jack would not take his eyes off of her, though.
“Hmm…” Sam cleared his throat.
“Now, Jack… Where were we?” The banker turned his head to the left and faced Sam.
“Oh, yeah. You need to understand, Sammie. You got yourself a great piece of software; I’ll give you that. But, who’s to say that it can’t be… What you call it?” Jack paused, looked up at the ceiling and put his right index finger on the edge of his forehead.
Romance: Mills and Boon Romance: The Boss's Proposal (Billionaire Bad Boy BBW Romance) Page 6
