Filthy Rich Alpha

by Virna DePaul

  He spoke the words with finality, as if attempting to argue with him would be the same as trying to argue with the brick wall against her back.

  He waited several beats, giving her time to answer. To lie.

  To tell him she didn’t want him.

  When she didn’t, he kissed her again.

  This time, the kiss was sweet. Soft. His lips brushed hers, hesitated, then covered hers firmly. Warmly. As if he was holding back his passion and arousal and simply communicating with her through his lips…communicating that he cared.

  When he pulled his mouth away from hers, backed up a few steps, shoved his hands into his pockets and simply stared at her, she knew then she would not be walking out of his life. Not now, at least.

  After lunch, Cara went back to work and Branden went off to do whatever millionaire moguls do during the day. He told her not to wait on him for dinner because he had several meetings lined up for the afternoon that would likely run into evening. She assured him that after three pieces of pizza, dinner would be the furthest thing from her mind. She wrapped up her day around seven and headed for the penthouse. It was a nice night so she walked. On her way, she called Iris.

  Finally, after days of not returning texts or calls, her friend answered.

  “Hey! I haven’t heard from you in a few days,” Cara said. “I was wondering if you heard anything back from your interview the other day.”

  “I did. That’s why you haven’t heard from me. They actually called me the very next day and I’ve been training ever since. I’m working at that place on the Green—Bull’s Den. Good tippers, which is great. I was scheduled at my current job the last two evenings, so I’m exhausted.”

  “Congratulations! I’m happy for you. Am I interrupting your rest?”

  “Nope. I just parked it on the couch and I haven’t moved. I don’t want to, either, so talk to me and give me an excuse to stay here on my butt. I don’t even care that it’s Friday night and I’m dateless.”

  Cara laughed. “So do you like the new job?”

  “Let’s put it this way. I’ve already made more tips in one night than I make all week in Brooklyn.”

  “Good. But you know what that means. You get to pay for the next spa day.”

  “Count on it. So how has your week been? Still having hot, satisfying sex with Mr. Rich and Sexy?”

  Thinking about what she’d been doing over the last few nights, she blushed. “You’re so bad!”

  “I know, but so are you. You’re just bad behind closed doors, right?”

  “I don’t kiss and tell,” Cara told her primly. “But just between you and me, I have never been so satisfied.”

  During Cara’s walk to the penthouse, they caught up on the events of the last few days, then hung up with the promise of getting together for lunch one day in the upcoming week.

  Nolan greeted Cara and called the elevator down for her. When the doors slid open on the top floor, she looked at the wall that had already been completely repaired. She shuddered. Just the idea of someone watching her… She had to force herself to shake off the uneasy sensation as she went through the dark apartment, switching on lights and checking in corners. Alex swept the corridor and the penthouse daily, but still. When she was confident there was no one about, she took a quick shower, dressed in a comfy nightshirt, and explored Branden’s DVD collection.

  Eclectic, like the man. Pink Floyd’s The Wall, romantic comedies from the 1940s like The Philadelphia Story, some Federico Fellini and François Truffaut films, and Caddyshack. She moved from the DVDs to take in his bookshelf. Again, the man’s possessions showed diverse taste. Antique first editions were nestled next to recent best-sellers. Everything from Euripides to Dickens, Lauren Hildenbrand to a dog-eared copy of the first Harry Potter book, in paperback. She pulled out a copy of a book on shunga—Japanese erotic woodcut art images—that she’d noticed tucked away in a dark recess of the bookshelf, and went into the kitchen to make herself a cup of tea.

  And to fantasize about doing some of the sexual positions with Branden.

  Because if she wasn’t leaving this situation with him right away, she’d enjoy the hell out of the time they had left to be together. Who knew how long things would last? For now, she was content to be surrounded by him, immersed in him. But she vowed the minute she felt her heart give way…the minute she felt that dumb little flutter girls always talked about when they started to fall in love, she’d bolt. Branden Duke’s reputation was that he wasn’t a forever kind of guy…and she’d never be a forever kind of girl.

  She just had to keep reminding herself of that.

  Branden liked the image of Cara standing in his kitchen wearing only a nightshirt that came down to just below her knees. The light from the buildings outside shone just enough through the blinds to cast her in a luminous glow. She had a cup of tea by her elbow and her nose buried in a book perched on the counter. The teakettle was on a back burner, the flame underneath adding a warm, luminescent light.

  “Honey, I’m home,” he called out.

  She gasped and slapped the book shut, then turned and grinned at him. “Cheesy, but cute. How was work?”

  “Fine.” More than fine, actually. He’d received an update from Alex that he’d found Davies, complete with straw hat and loud, ugly Hawaiian shirt, in Punta Cana. Alex had tailed him to a meeting with two men, whom Alex had dubbed Dreadlocks and Surfer Dude because of their distinct appearances, and then followed the other men after they’d left Davies. To no one’s surprise, they’d headed straight to the bank where they’d visited the deposit box area. Last he’d heard, Alex was going to attempt to make contact with the men in order to determine the nature of their business with Davies. He’d jokingly told Branden that if he had to light a joint or two to make them talk, he was up for the sacrifice.

  Branden set down the briefcase he’d been carrying and walked toward Cara. “What are you reading?”

  Even under the pale light, her cheeks turned a little pink. “Um…something I found on your bookcase.”

  With a fingertip, he spun the book around so he could see the cover. Then smiled wide. No wonder she’d blushed. “See anything you want to try out?”

  She gasped when he slid a hand up her thigh and shoved the nightshirt up to her hips. “I—I…”

  “Tell me,” he demanded, stroking the side of her very naked hip with his palm, aware at how she undulated under him. How she leaned toward him, as if craving his touch. “Tell me, or I’ll step back.”

  “You wouldn’t,” she said, although the word came out almost strangled.

  He cocked a brow and gazed down on her. “I would. Now tell me.”

  “The one where the man is looking at the woman’s…”

  Oh yeah, he knew exactly which woodcut she’d been aroused by. And he’d make that happen for her. But not just yet. For now, he’d simply tease her a little. Make her want him a lot.

  Because he loved that flush on her cheeks. Loved the way she sucked in a delicate breath. Loved how her chest rose up down in rapid succession.

  Loved knowing he could bring her to ecstasy.

  Leaning down, he pressed his lips to her neck, then slid them up so he could nibble the outside of her ear as he flicked the inside lightly with his tongue. He could feel the goose bumps rise as they ran down her arms.

  He pulled her in closer, settling his hands around her waist. He turned her around and pulled her in for a kiss. She was tense at first, but as his tongue slipped in between her soft lips he felt her relaxing in his arms, and then kissing him back. He ran his hands up and down her back, and on the last pass he caught the bottom of her shirt and pulled it up so he could grab her ass with both hands. He slipped his hands down inside her lacy underwear and kneaded and massaged her as they kissed.

  His touch on her bare skin seemed to incite her, and their kiss grew more passionate. She moaned as he continued to knead, and his fingers slipped lower and lower so they could lightly graze where she was already
wet. Cupping her there, he steered her up against the counter.

  “In the kitchen?” she breathed. “Naughty boy.”

  “Naughty girl,” he said, joining in on her teasing. “No, naughty woman, actually. Beautiful and exquisite woman.”

  He slid his hands up her body, lifting the shirt up as he went. She made a soft sound in the back of her throat.

  “God, I love it when I make you moan,” he said, then nipped the side of her neck. “It’s a delicate sound, but earthy. And your eyes close when you do it—I love seeing your eyelashes on your cheeks. Beautiful. Like you.”

  He twisted her shirt in his hand, then pulled it off and tossed it to the floor.

  He leaned down and kissed first one of her breasts and then the other. She shivered as his tongue shot out and flicked across one hard nipple. He sucked it in, hard, causing her to gasp and grab his face to hold him in place.

  He reached underneath her, still holding one nipple gently between his teeth, and lifted her up onto the counter. He pulled off the panties she was wearing and let them join the nightshirt on the floor. The kettle began to rumble as the water boiled, so he reached over and turned that off before he crouched between her open thighs.

  “Beautiful,” he whispered.

  And she was.

  Soft. Pink. Like petals on a flower.

  “Branden…” Cara whispered, and tried to pull her knees together.

  He put his hands on her knees and spread her even wider. He knew she wanted this. Wanted him to look at her and adore her the way the woodcut husband had looked at and adored his wife.

  “I won’t stop. I have to see you.”

  “But I’m…it’s not…I mean…”

  He knew what she meant. “You are, though. Beautiful. Alluring. Seductive. And I see you. Completely.”

  When she sucked in a shuddering breath, he cast his gaze upward and caught sight of her face—eyes squeezed tightly shut, the corner of her lip held by her white teeth, tension across her forehead.

  “Believe me, Cara. Trust me.”

  With those words, spoken with all the truth he had in him, her face relaxed. Softened. She stopped biting her lip and sighed, allowing her mouth to curve into a smile.

  She trusted him. Trusted him to take control. To give her what she wanted. What she needed.

  Something unfamiliar entered his bloodstream, poured through his veins, infused his pores. Something warm. Soft. Intense.

  He fought against the rising sensation, struggling and battling against—what? Emotion, maybe? Whatever it was, he didn’t want it. Not now. Not ever.

  He bent forward and licked her wet pussy.

  A shudder hit him—God, she tasted good. Clean. Earthy. All woman. And so exquisitely Cara.

  Cara groaned and wrapped her fingers in his hair. He used his tongue to slowly part her lips, wanting to immerse himself in her scent, her taste. Finding her swollen clit, he lapped at it hungrily as she squirmed and moaned on the cold tile counter. He licked her for several long moments before he sucked and nibbled on her clit. She cried out and the shudder came back, traversing his spine—he loved hearing her cry. Loved knowing he was giving her pleasure. Making her lose control.

  “Oh, Branden,” she said, throwing her head back against the cupboard as he entered her with a finger and began to swirl it around inside her. Her moans grew louder and more intense and her body quaked. She was on the verge of having an orgasm.

  He slipped a second finger inside and went deep as her body shook and she cried out his name a second time. As he felt her tighten around his fingers he pushed in and out, harder and faster. She screamed out his name as the orgasm hit her, and he could feel her tightening around his fingers. She continued to move her hips and he left his fingers where they were until she shuddered again and her body went slack.

  Finally sliding his hand out of her, he leaned in to kiss her, then pulled his pants and boxers down and let them fall to the floor.

  When he broke the kiss she said, “Do you want to move this into the bedroom?”

  “Soon, Cara. Soon.” When she nodded, silent, he stripped off his shirt and tie, then, after grabbing a condom from his wallet, sheathed himself. Then he put his arms around her and lifted her off the counter with her legs wrapped around his back. He carried her over to where the wall was solid, and in one motion he slammed her back against it and entered her. She was so wet that he slid all the way in. Cara cried out again and he felt the scrape of her fingernails down his back. He gripped her ass tightly with both hands and thrust, pumping in and out of her as he held her suspended against the wall.

  God, this was good.

  “I love being inside you, Cara,” he whispered.

  She held on to him tightly and kissed and licked his bottom lip in response, sucking it in and running her tongue along it as she held it in her teeth. He moaned, and folded his arms underneath her ass and slipped her up so that his cock was barely inside of her and her breasts were where he could get to them with his mouth. He sucked on her nipples, thrusting his hips harder, but given their position he could only fit about half of his cock inside her. He needed more, so he reluctantly pulled back from her breasts and let her body slide down so that he could once more press his full length inside her. While he kissed her, she moaned and he could feel the vibrations of it against his cheek.

  He had only intended to play with her in the kitchen, get her worked up a little bit, but he couldn’t make himself stop.

  “What are you doing to me?” he growled, knowing there was no answer.

  “Branden,” she moaned. “You. It’s…it’s you.”

  With each stroke, a fire in the pit of his stomach grew hot, and as he grew closer to climax, Cara thrust her hips into him harder and sucked his tongue into her mouth. He felt that familiar pulse and surge of blood that signaled he was ready, and when his body began to shake it seemed to trigger something in hers. She shook with him and pulled her mouth from his, crying out as another orgasm tore through her. Seconds later he groaned loudly while he experienced his own.

  When they both stopped shaking, he lowered her slowly to the floor and kissed her softly on the lips.

  And had to ask himself, what the hell had just happened?

  Chapter 18

  Cara finally had her tea, not that she was complaining. Tingles from their encounter in the kitchen still rushed over her, but she forced herself to focus on the here and now. After they’d both climaxed, they’d shakily dressed again, and she’d poured herself a cup of tea and Branden a Scotch and soda. Now she was seated on the couch in his living room, her feet in his lap and a teacup cradled in her hands. She couldn’t help thinking how nice the evening had been and how “domestic” it had felt.

  How lovely it would be if every night could be like this one.

  And that thought alone worried her immensely.

  Cara had never really been interested in a man enough to think about living with him. And she wasn’t kidding herself now. Whatever was happening with Branden was a temporary thing that would eventually burn itself out, probably as soon as they figured out what was going on and who was messing with them. Because a man like Branden was way out of her league. She needed to keep her emotions in check—because if she didn’t, she’d get hurt. And badly. She’d never experienced heartbreak, but she’d held Iris’s hands plenty of times as her friend had cried over boyfriends who’d moved on. But even as she gave herself mental warnings, a part of her wondered if maybe it was already too late.

  Because these feelings she was having—missing Branden’s scent when she hadn’t seen him for several hours, experiencing the rush of tingles in her belly when she remembered the sensation of his cock entering her, the way his eyes lit up when he spoke of his sisters…all these feelings were real. And deep. And maybe even more than just a crush.

  “What are you thinking about?” Branden asked her.

  She glanced at him. She couldn’t tell him the truth…that she was wondering if she was fa
lling in love with him, but lying wasn’t an option. Stick with the truth, she told herself, even though it might just be a partial truth. “I was just thinking that this is nice, sitting here with you.”

  “It is nice,” he said. “So you’re not worrying about how that illegal email ended up coming from your email address?”

  She made a face. “I’ll have to worry about it sooner or later, but I don’t want to think about it tonight.”

  Wiggling his eyebrows, he said, “Then maybe we should come up with an activity to keep your mind and body occupied.”

  He’d already fulfilled plenty of her fantasies in the kitchen. Playing dumb, she said, “Like club dancing?”

  He gave her a cock-eyed look. “You like to go dancing?”

  “Actually, yes. It’s a good stress reliever. I just dance like nobody’s watching.”

  His expression shifted from cheerfully dubious to impressed. “Let’s go then,” he said, sitting up suddenly and spilling her feet from his lap.

  “What, now?”

  “Why not? It’s Friday night, and we live in the city that never sleeps. Plus, I have a cool sports car you haven’t even ridden in yet.”

  Cara grinned. “It does sound like fun.”

  “Did you bring dancing clothes with you when you packed?”

  “I threw a dress or two into my suitcase. Just in case.”

  “Perfect. How long do you need to get ready?”

  Not long, it turned out. She picked out a black cocktail dress with a layer of sky-blue lace that peeked out around the neckline and then again along the hem that ended just above her knees. She had a pair of four-inch heels that matched the lace and a bag that would work well.

  She brushed out her hair, leaving it loose around her shoulders, and applied a light layer of foundation and powder before lining her eyes with a soft blue crayon. Her final touch was a layer of mascara and a shiny pink lip gloss. Satisfied, she went to find Branden. As she passed the large walk-in closet that was bigger than most people’s apartments, she heard a long, low wolf whistle. She turned and saw him standing there in the doorway of the closet.