HONEY GIRL: BILLIONAIRE (Book 2)

by Jones, Juliette

“Well, you know that night … that poker night?”

  I could feel myself blush. “Yes.”

  “I don’t know how I ever let that go as far as it did.” He ran a hand through his hair, like he did when he was angst-ridden about something. “I mean, I would never, ever share you. I was quite simply blinded by lust and I couldn’t even see past you. I’m sorry about that. I promise to never let anything like that happen again.”

  I couldn’t help almost smiling. Actually, I didn’t regret any of that night. Or any other night with Alexander. It had all been so … abandoned. That new freedom, I guess. The one inspired by the sense of security Alexander seemed to radiate. “You don’t need to apologize for that. That was my fault. For getting so carried away.”

  “No. Not your fault. My fault.”

  “I don’t see why it has to be anyone’s ‘fault’. It was a wild night that’s now over.”

  “And those French chicks, too. I don’t –” Alexander’s face was almost comically outraged over the memory. “I don’t know how that even happened. The whole girl-on-girl thing, and having them touch us both … then watching us. It’s not something I’m proud of, is what I’m trying to say. That I would put you in that position.”

  I exhaled a small chuckle. His concern was so adorable. He though I was mad at him because he’d shared me in the heat of several scorching sexual escapades. “I thought it was fun.” I had thought it was fun. The whole thing had been ridiculously sensual. “I should also be the one apologizing for that one, too, if an apology is required, which it isn’t. I’m the one who invited them back to our hotel. And sort of … started the whole thing. I shared you, too, remember?” I bit my lip. “Well, sort of.”

  “You were actually fairly insistent about not sharing me, if I recall correctly.”

  “Yes, I was, wasn’t I?”

  There it was: his slow smile.

  “I’ll forgive you if you forgive me,” I said. “I think everything was just so new and so uncontrollable. Unchartered territory. I think we were both just going with it.”

  “Yeah, we were, weren’t we? We really were.” The look he gave me was so filled with love, and a subtle, careful lust. In light of all the revelations that had gone down tonight, he was keeping himself under control. It was one of my favorite things to do, though, I’ll be the first to admit: I loved breaking through Alexander’s control. And I felt positively buoyant, like years of dull weight had been lifted, and my peripheral vision was no longer black and hidden, but instead new and somehow sparked.

  I kissed him. Slowly. Tenderly. But he pulled away. “Honey girl?”

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t want to share you any more, though, okay? I want you all to myself. Just you and me.”

  I kissed him again. “Okay. Just you and me.”

  “Lila?”

  “Yes?”

  “Are you okay? Do you want to talk more? Do you feel okay? What do you want me to do?”

  “I want you to close your eyes.”

  He stared at me first, trying to interpret my request. I waited for him to obey, which, after a few seconds, he did. His eyes closed. It was strange: Alexander and I shared a bond that was incredibly tactile. That had been our very first connection. The meandering, forging love had grown out of this wild, uninhibited lust. We could communicate with our bodies, at times, what we couldn’t always put into words. I loved him. I felt so fortunate to have found him. And I needed the comfort of his touch as much as the comfort of his understanding. I kissed his mouth, suckling his bottom lip, flicking little licks into his mouth with my tongue. I kissed a line down his neck, his chest.

  “Lila, are you sure? You –” He drew in a slow breath when my fingers brushed against his hot, rigid shaft.

  I was sure. And I loved the textures of his big, hard body, dusted with hair and quilted with ridge upon ridge of perfectly-placed muscle. “I need you,” I whispered, kissing the arrow line of black hair down his stomach, taking the head of his cock between my lips, nipping him, licking slowly. I took more of him, sucking him like I was drawing some kind of fortifying strength from him greedily, like a drug. I knew exactly what he liked and I could read the reactions of his body with practiced precision. I wasn’t going to make him come yet, just stoke the rising bliss in him, milking him with my mouth as I tasted his mounting, dewed pleasure. The lingering tumult of my emotions was driving me in desperate, driven directions as I gripped him harder and sucked him deeper.

  “Lila.”

  His strong hands were guiding me. He was pulling me up his body. I suckled him again before I let go, letting my hands grip him, biting his chest as he pulled me up to him. He could feel the frenzy in me, and he used his arms and his words to calm me. “It’s all right. Come here. Let me give you pleasure, too,” he was saying. “You’re going to come with me. Together. That’s my girl.”

  He laid me back against the pillows, kissing me, giving me everything I needed. His fingers found my core and he fed his massive cock into me, slowly, slowly, making sure I was wet enough to take him, easing himself inside. I tipped my hips up to him to receive him, whispering love words in his ear as he forced the dazzling pleasure into me and his surging, flooding shaft brought me to a lustrous, shattering peak.

  After, we lay there for a long time, replete and completed, awed by the beauty of this connection.

  There were no words.

  Alexander

  “Lila,” I said, kissing her forehead. I’d showered and dressed, letting her sleep as long as I could. She needed it, after the night we’d had. I’d pushed her in dangerous directions. I’d known what would probably happen, but I needed to break through. She would never trust me completely if she couldn’t be honest with me and know that I wouldn’t walk out on her over it. She’d suffered some serious childhood trauma, the kind you don’t get over without working through it, laying it out and dealing with it in a way that made sense. We could look at therapy down the line if she thought it would help but the first step was admitting that something had gone wrong and that it wasn’t her fault. I knew only too well how victims could carry that shit around with them for lifetime: thinking they’d fucked up when it wasn’t them at all. When they’d only been a little kid who needed love and instead got hell.

  I knew.

  I wouldn’t have minded staying in bed a little longer, but the meeting with the lawyers that would decide Jake’s sentence started at nine o’clock, and I wanted to get there early. It was just the prosecuting lawyers sitting down with our team to talk things through. The negotiations had come to a standstill earlier this week and it was optimistic to think we could get them to budge any further. But we’d try. “I have to go soon. Stay in bed as long as you want. I can let Ashley know you’ll be in a little later, if you want.”

  “Can I come with you? To Jake’s hearing? Do you think Ashley would mind?”

  “Ashley wouldn’t mind if I told her not to mind. You can come if you want.”

  “I’d like to be there. I think Jake might like to have us both there.”

  “I think you’re right. I think he’ll take all the support he can get.”

  “Can I take a shower? I’ll be quick.”

  “Sure you can. It’s not even seven yet. As long as we’re there by eight.”

  While Lila was in the shower, I called Jake.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Are you wearing your best suit? No earring. Tats covered. No sneakers?”

  “Fuck off,” he muttered. “Of course I am. I’m not a complete fucking imbecile.”

  “Could’ve fooled me.”

  He didn’t bite and it wasn’t hard to sense his mood. Gone was the carefree player who thought rules didn’t apply – to him and only him. He was staring down the barrel of anywhere between three months to five years behind bars, and the reality of his situation was finally starting to sink in. Whether or not they put him in a minimum-security prison would be entirely up to the residing judge that would sit
in on the hearing. There would be no jury.

  “Jake,” I said. “You’re going to be okay. No matter what happens. Okay? We’ll get you through this. Let’s not doom and gloom over it until we hear what the judge decides.” I tried once more to attempt to lift his spirits. “Maybe the judge will be young and hot and you can charm her into letting you run free.”

  He was unflappably morose. “Sure, that’s a realistic possibility.”

  I could have said, You got yourself into this mess, now you have to deal with the consequences of your actions, like some asshole. It wouldn’t be the first time I’d attempted to lecture Jake into behaving on the straight and narrow. But it wouldn’t make any difference. I knew from experience that giving him a command or a reprimand would pretty much guarantee he went in the opposite direction. It was just his way. So instead I just said, “I’ll meet you there at eight.”

  “Is Lila coming?”

  “Yeah.” There was something sort of endearing about the way he had begun to rely on her, just a little. Jake, like me, had had plenty of women in his life. But also like me, there had never been anyone that stuck. He’d yet to find the kind of relationship that gave more than it took. He’d become attached to the way Lila genuinely cared about him. Not his money or his car or his image. Just him. And since I’d already laid my jealousy to rest over the subject of the two of them, I didn’t mind this. I liked that the only two people I really cared about actually got along with each other. “She wants to come.”

  “Cool. I’ll see you both there at eight, then.” He hung up.

  When we arrived at the hearing, Jake was already there and the proceedings got underway promptly at nine o’clock.

  Apparently, the prosecution had done some thinking over the past two days because the vibe had changed from one of blood to one of money. Maybe it was their tactic. All week they’d issued threats to nail us so firmly to the wall that Jake wouldn’t see the light of day for years to come. Maybe they’d wanted to scare us, to get us thinking about how much we’d actually prefer to pay than to put Jake through incarceration and all the nightmarish side-effects.

  The lead prosecutor was a swish dickhead named Travis Owens who had a reputation for annihilating rich businessmen who took liberties with their inside trading information. People exactly like Jake. Travis was in full-on attack mode. “Our clients have decided that they will consider taking a monetary settlement rather than pushing for jail time for the defendant. They’re out of pocket costs are roughly equivalent to one point six million dollars. After costs and damages they ask for a settlement of two million dollars.”

  It was a huge amount of money. Jake exhaled a low curse only I could hear.

  He’d pulled off the clean-cut look fairly impressively. He looked both rich and wholesome, a feat that’s not always easy to achieve. You’d never know by looking at him that he was both a criminal and a renegade. Then again, we wouldn’t be here if he wasn’t at least one of the two. The judge was an older woman – probably in her early sixties – who was clearly at least twenty years beyond being either charmed or impressed by anything besides pure and unequivocal justice.

  I had noticed that she’d watched Jake when we’d greeted him. Lila had hugged him and given him the kind of solace that was real and somehow riveting. They were both stunning-looking people with a bruised vulnerability that sort of clung to them. I had no idea if my assumption was right, but I got the feeling the judge saw it: the decency in them, the innocence lost through no fault of their own.

  We would soon find out one way or the other. The depositions were in, the pleas had been given.

  The room was entirely silent. The judge contemplated Jake. She took off her reading glasses and set them aside. “Mr. Wolfe,” she said to him. “Do you regret what you’ve done?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Jake said earnestly. “I’ve caused a lot of trouble for a lot of people.” Jake looked at me, then back at the judge. “People I care about. I’m going to do my best to make it up to them.” He spoke again, and I don’t think I’d ever heard my brother sound more miserable, or more sincere. “Once I get out.”

  The judge continued. “In light of the prosecution’s statement, I would be willing to forego a prison sentence, on two conditions. The defence will pay Mr. Owens’ clients reparations in the amount of two million dollars. And Mr. Wolfe will be placed under house arrests for a period of three months. He will be fitted with an electronic device to track his movements and his communications. He will be permitted to go to home and to go to his place of employment. According to the information you’ve given, Mr. Wolfe’s home is directly around the corner from his workplace. He may walk, he may drive, he may stop for the occasional cup of coffee or meal en route, but he may not travel off course from the direct route between the allocated locations defined in his sentence. If he violates the terms of his house arrest, he will be immediately be sentenced to a three-year prison sentence with no possibility of parole.” She gave Jake a soulful but steely look. “I am letting you off the hook this time, Mr. Wolfe, assuming you can meet the cost of reparations. But I will not be so generous again. Next time you will be prosected to the full extent of the law. If you are not able to pay Mr. Owens’ clients two million dollars in full by November 10, you will receive a prison sentence of two years, effective immediately, without eligibility for parole until you have served at least one year of your prison term. Do you understand these terms?”

  “Yes.” Jake’s voice came out as a doomed croak. Two million dollars was more money than he thought he was worth. I, however, had a very different opinion. This is why I’d worked my fucking guts out my entire goddamn life to be able to do: to save him, when he needed to be saved.

  “I will now give you a few minutes to consult with your legal team about how you would like to respond,” the judge continued.

  I stood up. “That won’t be necessary,” I said. “We’ll pay the two million dollars. I’ll have it wired to wherever it needs to go first thing tomorrow morning. And Jake will be more than willing to respect the terms of his house arrest. We accept the terms.”

  Jake stared at me. “Alexander, you don’t -- ”

  I looked at the judge, cutting Jake off mid-protest. “So, are we done here?”

  The judge glowered at me, but I thought I detected a note of what might have been a subdued relief, as though she were silently rooting for Jake’s happy ever after. “You are. Once you sign the agreement, and your brother has met with the supervising authority to be fitted with his tracking device, you are free to go.”

  Lila

  I left them to the paperwork and promised to meet Alexander and Jake later, to celebrate. I could have taken the day off, of course, but once the verdict had been delivered, I thought it best to leave them to it.

  Two million dollars was more money than I’d ever seen in my lifetime, by a longshot, but Alexander brushed it off as though he was paying a parking ticket. I was happy for them both, and as I made my way upstairs, I felt buoyant with relief. And more in love with Alexander than I’d ever been. He used his wealth, I was realizing, not as a trophy or a as a crown, but as a shield. The money, in itself, didn’t matter to him. It was a layer of protection, a way of saying fuck you to the world. You can’t touch me and you can’t touch him, not if I’m here to protect him with everything I have: that’s what his drive was all about.

  Knowing that he would do the same for me, in whatever way I might need him to, was dauntingly comforting. Almost addictively so. It was another reason I decided to spend the day working, away from Alexander. Something animalistic inside me was on fire and it was a difficult feeling to define. I was afraid, that’s what it was. I was afraid of how much I loved him. And I was even more afraid of how much I was starting to feel like I needed him. He was gallant and unselfish and protective. He was beautiful and empathetic and real. I was afraid of how deeply he’d gotten under my skin, entwining his effect into the very foundations of my soul. I was afraid that if he
ever withdrew, it would shatter me.

  There were times that Alexander’s power and wealth almost seemed to undermine my footing. He claimed that our relationship was equal, that I had as much to offer as he did. Most days I felt that too. But on days where he waved two-million dollar checks around like five-dollar bills, I couldn’t help but feel that the playing field was a little skewed. What did I have to offer Alexander besides admittedly scorching-hot sex and the kind of unconditional love that was riddled with hang-ups from my hell-hole of a childhood? Was that enough?

  I spent the day doing my best to keep as busy as possible, to use my intellect to make me feel like the part of myself I was most familiar with, the self-reliant, focused, capable side, was still there. And it was. Ashley had taken several of my ideas for the fashion shoot on board.

  “You’ve done a good job,” she said to me. “And I’m not just saying that because you’re engaged to the CEO. I know Alexander’s plan is to groom you as his business partner, but you should think about working in fashion full-time. You’ve got a knack for it, and I don’t say that to everyone. In fact, I don’t think I’ve ever said it to anyone. But you do.”

  “Thanks, Ashley. I appreciate that.”

  “And now, take a half hour for lunch if you want. We’ve got a long afternoon ahead of us. The photo spread needs to be finalized by the end of the day.”

  I walked to the elevator. I planned to grab something quick at the Skyscraper cafeteria on the eighteenth floor, which had killer views and had recently been rated ‘the most upmarket workplace cafeteria in New York.’ The elevator was empty when I went in but someone else hurried through, just as the doors were closing.

  Mark Faber.

  The doors closed firmly.

  “Hello, Lila,” he drawled.

  I remembered him more from Monday morning’s meeting than the night of the poker game. He was tall with dark blond hair and the kind of Bradley Cooper blue eyes that you can’t help but notice. He was lanky and sort of lithe-looking, like he might have a pro soccer player in a former life. I tried not to blush at the thought of what he’d seen … and what he’d seen me do. God, that night had been totally out of control. It all started when Alexander … introduced me to something new. He’d put some beads inside me. Which had then proceeded to arouse me to fever pitch … and then he hadn’t let me come. I’d been so turned on I hadn’t even cared that five or six men were there in the room. I’d wanted Alexander so badly … I’d wanted Alexander to make me come so badly I’d pulled my top down to reveal my bare breasts to him … to them all. I’d wanted them to see how turned on I was, how much I wanted Alexander. I’d put my nipple into his mouth. I’d straddled him with my short shirt … and nothing underneath. With my pussy so wet and swollen and throbbing I thought I’d go mad with it. I’d pleaded and moaned and begged right there in front of our very attentive audience. And Alexander had done it. He’d laid me down there on the poker table on the big pile of hundred dollar bills and kissed me and pulled out those beads and feasted on me, giving me the most intense orgasm I’d ever had in my life. It was a little hard to rank the intensity of the many orgasms Alexander had given me, actually, since all of them were intense beyond belief. But this one … the other men had put their hands on me. Their mouths. Alexander had later apologized about it. For letting things go that far and get that out of control. In hindsight it was totally out of character for him. He hated other men even looking at me, let alone touching me … so intimately. All I’d cared about in that moment was my climax. All Alexander had cared about was getting me there. Neither of us had been prepared for the devastating force of our passion and our lust.