Billionaire for Hire (For Hire)

by Cat Johnson

  She was on top, pinning me down.

  Unable to move to take care of things myself, I told her, “Condoms are in the drawer.”

  While still seated astride me, she reached for the bedside table, stretching her long strong body like a cat in the sun.

  I had a moment to appreciate that body.

  The muscles in her arms and back were defined—muscular—even though she was lean and toned. Her thighs were obviously strong. I could see and feel that.

  I wondered what her workout routine was. When she tore into the condom with her teeth, my wondering ceased.

  Oh, I still appreciated her body, but it had less to do with her fitness and so much more to do with the fact she had covered me and was slowly easing down over my length.

  The sensation had my eyes closing, just when I really wanted to watch. I forced my lids open and watched her move over me.

  The way she set her jaw, the fire flashing in her eyes, I would have said she looked angry if we weren’t in the midst of an intimate act she’d initiated in the bed she’d led me to.

  Alex attacked the act with a vigor that bordered on violence, her expression determined, her movements anything but gentle and I loved it.

  I reached out to try to bring her some pleasure but working her clit at this point would have been akin to performing surgery on a ship tossed about on the ocean during a storm—futile. Possibly dangerous.

  I had plenty of time to even the score later.

  For now, I wasn’t about to waste her passion. If she wanted it rough, fast and hard, that worked for me.

  I let myself ride the wave that was Alex for as long as I could before the telltale tingle shot through me.

  The speed and force of our combined movements brought me to the point of no return. With no turning back, I gripped her hips, thrust upward and came hard. Loud enough I’d probably have to avoid making eye contact with the neighbors in the hallway for the near future.

  She had no choice but to slow and eventually stop as I faded fast. But that was fine because now it was my turn to be in control.

  I flipped her over easily, but only because she let me. I had a feeling this woman didn’t do anything she didn’t want to do.

  Again I appreciated how solid she was built. All hard, toned muscle that made me want to ask what she did for her workouts—later. Much later, because now wasn’t the time for words.

  As I slid down her body, my mouth was about to become very busy and not from talking.

  She watched me. Eyes partially closed, she looked more like she was seething than aroused.

  I never would have thought that my cute Alex, with the girl-next-door looks and the bright sense of humor, would have such an angry-looking sex face.

  She bent her knees, spreading her legs wide for me to fit between them, so I kept going.

  I wrote off her expression as one of the facts of life. Some people had resting bitch face. Alex had seething sex face.

  There was nothing I could do about it except work toward discovering what her orgasm face looked like. That was certainly something to look forward to.

  As a goal oriented man I attacked my challenge with hands and mouth.

  At the first contact of my tongue against her core, she gasped. I thrust two fingers inside her and heard her expel a sharp breath. I slipped a single saliva-slickened finger back and pressed just the tip into her rear entrance and she jerked her hips up, pressing herself harder against my mouth.

  This I could work with. I had her right where I wanted her—nearing the edge of orgasm and I wasn’t going to stop my multi-front assault until I’d reached my goal of hearing her shatter from my touch.

  I didn’t have to wait long. Her muscles clenched until her thighs shook around my head and her body gripped my fingers inside her so tightly I could barely move.

  I sucked harder and felt her careen into the abyss.

  Her response was more than I could have imagined. She wasn’t quiet or shy. Alex let me and my unfortunate neighbors know exactly how much I’d pleased her.

  The boost to my male ego had me hard again. She was still quivering when I slipped on a fresh condom, lifted her knees high and plunged inside.

  This time I was in charge and I set a slow but intense pace, sliding deep with each stroke, filling her completely.

  I watched her face. Her eyes were closed, her expression softer now, as if she were captivated, captured within the intensity of the pleasure.

  Then those eyes opened and her gaze collided with mine. Unlike at dinner, she didn’t look away.

  The intensity of her stare and the level of feelings it awakened in me were almost too much.

  I didn’t look away. I forced myself not to. To face what I was feeling for her.

  Sex was usually just that for me—sex. This—this was something else. This was raw, naked emotion unlike anything I’d ever felt before and I didn’t know what the hell to do about it.

  Or maybe I did know what to do about it.

  Braced above her, I stilled and said, “Can you stay the night?”

  “Yes.” Her answer was soft and short but it had my chest tightening along with the rest of my body.

  “Good.” I pounded us both to completion one more time, with her succumbing first and me following swiftly after.

  When it was done, I was as winded as if I’d run a marathon. I rolled to the side and tried to catch my breath.

  Once I had some semblance of normalcy back, I settled in close against her. So close we were pressed together, skin to skin, the entire length of our bodies in spite of the sweeping expanse of the king-size mattress.

  I wrapped my arms around Alex and held her tight. Needing the connection. Needing to reaffirm to her what I already knew myself—this was no simple hook up. No one-night stand.

  This was a beginning.

  I could only hope she felt the same.

  Her agreeing to stay the night was a good sign. A first step but not an assurance. At least not enough of one for me.

  I trailed a finger down the bare skin of her stomach and watched her quiver.

  Damn. I wanted to see her come again. Wanted to hear her scream my name. I inched my hand lower into the crease between her thighs. “I can’t seem to get enough of you.”

  Her response was a low indistinct sound as she spread her legs. That was enough of an invitation for me.

  I connected with her core and the ride started all over again.

  TWELVE

  The source of the buzzing barely registered in my sleepy brain as my peaceful slumber ended.

  Waking wasn’t such a bad thing because as my senses began to become aware, I felt the warm body next to me. She rolled away and I groaned, reaching out to try to pull her back.

  Alex did come back soon enough. “Somebody named Zane Alexander is calling you,” she said.

  I squinted against the morning light and saw the cell phone she retrieved from the nightstand on her side of the bed glowing in her hand.

  She thrust the device toward me and I groaned for an entirely different reason now. I was going to have to get out of bed and take this damn call.

  “Thanks.” I took the phone and sat up, swinging my legs out from under the tangled covers and over the side of the mattress.

  Why did Zane insist on calling when he could text instead?

  I had a vague memory of shooting him a text at one point last night asking if he knew where our Russian was going to be this weekend because his female counterpart would be in New York for the event at the Museum of Modern Art.

  Even though this crack of dawn phone call was probably my own doing, I still chose to be annoyed at him.

  I slipped out of the bedroom and closed the door behind me so I wouldn’t disturb Alex any further before I answered the call.

  “Dude, you can’t wait until the sun is up to bother me?” I dispensed with pleasantries given the hour.

  Zane let out a short laugh. “Wow, you’re in a mood. For your information, t
he sun has been up for two hours. What’s wrong? You strike out last night? Cranky you didn’t get laid?”

  It was petty and childish and definitely not gentlemanly behavior on my part but I couldn’t resist correcting him. “Wrong on both counts.”

  “Really? Well, then there’s no reason for you to be acting like such an ass—oh. Wait. She’s still there.” There was far too much amusement in Zane’s tone for my liking.

  And why the fuck was he so awake and chipper this early on a Saturday morning. I remembered he was married now. That had to be it. He probably had been sound asleep by nine p.m. last night.

  With that justification making me happy, I said, “Not that it’s any of your business but yes. Why are you calling so early?”

  “Dude, it’s not that early. I already ran five miles and had breakfast.”

  I scowled at his level of energy. “Because you have no life.”

  “Because I’m not out catting around like you.”

  “You would be if you hadn’t found Missy.” I glanced back at the closed bedroom door and wondered why I was standing on the wrong side of it fighting with Zane when I could be back in bed making love to Alex. “Can we continue this debate when I’m back in Virginia?”

  “And when will that be?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure. Probably Monday.” I chose to assume my weekend was going to continue on the same tract—me and Alex and my bed with brief interludes for sustenance and to show our faces at the fundraiser. “I can get the comm unit back to you then.”

  “I’m not worried about the comm. I’m concerned about that cryptic text you sent me.”

  My guess had been correct. I’d inflicted this torturous conversation on myself by texting Zane last night. My one-time assignment for him might be over but I still felt the responsibility of it weighing on me.

  “I’m attending another event in the city tonight. One Viktoria Mikhelson will be at as well. I just wanted to make sure Mordashov wasn’t back in the country.”

  “I’ll check it out. As far as I know he’s still in the UK but as I told you before, your debt to me is paid. You don’t have to worry anymore. You’re done, Rosebud.”

  I sighed, really regretting my code name idea more with every conversation I had with Zane. I should have known better. He never could resist an opportunity at mockery. Not as a kid and obviously not now.

  “You’re a dickhead. You know that?”

  “I love you too, bro. Oh, and why don’t you take the comm with you to this event tonight.”

  “What?” I hadn’t even gotten around to making coffee yet but I was wide awake now, on alert as Zane did a one-eighty. He said he wasn’t concerned about the Russian. That I was done with my assignment for him. But his telling me to wear the comm to the event told another story.

  “Why?” I asked. “Do you think something big might go down?”

  He laughed. “No, I don’t think something big might go down because we’re not inside an episode of Hawaii Five-0. But it doesn’t hurt to be prepared. You might have something interesting to tell me.”

  Every muscle in my body tensed. Zane might joke around—a lot—but in the middle he’d casually sneak in something vitally important, like he had just now.

  It was almost as if he’d hoped I wouldn’t notice. Wouldn’t question it. That I’d just take the comm and roll with whatever happened next.

  The SEAL on the phone with me might be able to do that. But since I was just a normal man, not one of the nation’s elite warriors, I wasn’t so sure I could.

  “Brent, seriously, I’m not worried. I promise you.”

  “Then why do you want me to carry the comm?”

  “Because it’s better to have and not need, than to need and not have.”

  That philosophy, worthy of Doctor Seuss in its delivery, contained way too many words for me to untangle at the moment.

  As I sifted through his meaning, Zane continued, “Won’t it make you feel better to have it on you?”

  “Yes.” That was one thing I was certain of.

  “So there you go. Take it with you.”

  “I will. But I’m not taking the gun.”

  “Agreed. Concealed carry restrictions in Manhattan can be tricky.”

  At least I’d won one battle with him. “Will you get back to me if you find out anything new about the Russian’s location?”

  “I will.”

  “All right.” I glanced again at the door. “I’ll, uh, talk to you later?”

  “Yeah, that’s fine. Go ahead. Get back to whoever she is warming your bed.”

  I decided to piss him off. “I will. It’s Alexandra from the party, by the way.”

  “What? I told you to steer clear of—”

  I was already on my way to the bedroom and too close to the door to say what I wanted to—namely fuck off—without Alex hearing from inside the bedroom. Instead I said, “Good bye, Zane.”

  I disconnected the call before pushing open the door. I startled when I found Alex standing just inside it.

  “Hey. Sorry about that.” I held up the cell. “Old friend who doesn’t respect boundaries when it comes to early calls on weekend mornings.”

  “It’s okay. I figured I’d get up and check my phone as long as I was awake. Make sure there were no emergencies.” She held up her own cell.

  “Any volunteer emergencies, you mean?”

  “Don’t laugh. They happen.”

  “Well, even volunteers need personal time.” I tossed my cell on top of the dresser to free my hands for more important things. Reaching out, I pulled her toward me.

  Alex held up one finger. “Hold that thought. I just want to run to the bathroom.”

  “Of course.” I dropped my hold on her waist and watched as she turned, cell still in her hand, and headed for the bathroom.

  I didn’t think much about that. Sad but true, I’d been known to check my messages while on the toilet.

  She’d be back soon enough. Then we’d get back to business.

  THIRTEEN

  The morning passed too quickly.

  Between my dragging Alex back into bed to have sex and then both of us taking showers—separately though I was game to change that in the near future—before I knew it, it was nearing noon.

  By the time we got around to eating it was closer to lunch than breakfast and we were within hours of the start of the event, which she still had to dress for.

  While we’d been in my apartment, she’d worn a pair of my shorts and a T-shirt. But without any footwear besides the high heels, that outfit wasn’t going to work for the drive to her place so she’d put the dress back on.

  Not that I minded. I had a real affinity for that red dress, but I’m sure no woman wanted to arrive home the next day wearing the clothes from the night before.

  I, on the other hand, was dressed and ready in a fresh suit as I sat behind the wheel of the Land Rover on the way to Queens and Alex’s place.

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw her angled toward me, watching me from the passenger seat. Without turning to look directly at her, I said, “You’re looking at me strangely. Why?”

  “Just trying to figure you out, Brent Hearst.”

  I glanced her direction, surprised at that answer. “What’s there to figure out?”

  “I don’t know. Everything, I guess.” She lifted one shoulder.

  “Then that makes us even, because I’m trying to figure you out too, Alexandra . . .” I had started to echo her comment to me but stopped, unable to finish. I laughed. “And I still don’t know your last name.”

  That I’d spent a considerable amount of time inside this woman last night yet didn’t know her full name was not ideal. Some men might operate that way. Hell, I had in the past. But not this time. Not with Alex.

  I had plans—or at least hopes—to spend much more time with her in the future.

  “Jones. Alexandra Elizabeth Jones. And there’s nothing to figure out. I go to college, I volunteer. And if
I don’t get my degree and land a paying job soon my parents are probably going to cut me off and I’ll be homeless. I’m pretty typical I think.”

  “What are you majoring in?” I asked.

  “Double major in English and Art History.”

  Having the Hearst last name could be a double-edged sword at times, but in this situation it might be an asset.

  “Lucky for you, I happen to run not one but two publishing houses and I daresay I have some pull at a few other companies.”

  She laughed. “Hearst owns more than a few other companies.”

  “Oh, so you’ve heard of them?” I grinned.

  Alex let out a snort. “Yeah, you know, in passing.”

  “All joking aside. Alex, I’d be happy to set you up with some interviews. You just have to tell me what you want.”

  “What I want . . . I guess that’s something I’m going to have to figure out.” All humor had gone out of her tone too.

  I understood what she was saying. I wasn’t that much older than she was that I’d forgotten what it was like to be in college. I remembered being fresh out of school, overwhelmed by a world of choices and the prospect of having to pick just one.

  “Maybe I can help with that too. We can figure it out together.”

  “Maybe.”

  I took my eyes off the road long enough to glance at her. She raised her gaze to meet mine and I saw something in her eyes. Something deep. Dark.

  What was that coloring her tone and her expression? It seemed like more than simple indecision.

  Whatever it was, I didn’t like it.

  “You have reached your destination.” The GPS announced our arrival at her apartment.

  Perfect timing.

  I pulled into a spot along the curb and reached out to squeeze her hand.

  Determined to erase that dark cloud that had settled over the woman who was currently the brightest light in my life, I leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her lips.

  It was short but had a lasting effect on my heart and my head.

  A knowledge I wasn’t ready for but wasn’t going to fight settled over me. I could fall for this woman. Hell, I was already half there.

  And God help me if she didn’t feel the same.