Tag You're Mine

by T L Osborn

  “Oh, now it makes sense. You were trying to be cool in hopes you’d get laid and in the process, you made a fool of yourself.”

  I hold up my hand. “You know me well.”

  “So, what happened next? You went home and wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am, happened?” He chuckles.

  I shake my head. “Sadly, no. I did however, earn a kiss from her but only on the cheek, and now she’s bloody stuck in my head and I can’t get her out.”

  “You’re losing your touch.” Simon laughs as his office door opens.

  Am I really losing my touch with the ladies?

  “Ahh, if it isn’t my wonderful fiancée,” Simon says as Aria walks around his desk, placing a report on it.

  “And what would you be sucking up for, Mr Billington?” she asks sweetly.

  “Nothing, darling.”

  I clear my throat. “Do you need anything else, or can I get started on proofing this report?” I get the sense they want to be alone.

  “You’re actually going to do some work?” Simon asks astonished.

  “Yes, that is what you pay me for.”

  “Go, and watch out for my door, I’d hate for you to injure your other hand.”

  I flip him my middle finger as I exit his office, and watch as Simon pulls a giggling Aria into his lap and begins whispering something to her. A twinge of jealousy creeps up on me. Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad my brother has found love with Aria. They’re a perfect match for one another.

  So why am I jealous? I’m single, no commitments, no ties, and no woman nagging at me to pick up my shit.

  Making my way into my office, I close the door, then lean on my desk still thinking about my sudden bout of envy. I’ve got an endless supply of women who I can call on, who will willingly fall into my bed for one night of fun. Dinner, wine and sex all night long; what more could I want?

  I sigh.

  My apartment isn’t a home and doesn’t feel like one either. Taking a seat at my desk, I try to distract myself with work in order to stop thinking about my life. Though I feel something’s missing, I’m still unsure what that something is.

  Chapter Two

  Riley

  I’m sitting in my favourite café along Oriental Parade, trying to finish writing the scene I started last night while I enjoy a hot chocolate and a muffin. I’ve written over half of my book since last week’s incident with James—the tree kisser—as I affectionately named him. I pause, pick up my cup, and take a sip. I’ve been unable to stop thinking about him and every time I close my eyes he’s there. Those brown eyes are full of lust; a soft smirk crossing his face. He’s taking over my dreams, thoughts and fantasies, causing me to break out BOB to get some relief. Of course, BOB ran out of batteries last night, unable to handle the sexual way I crave the sexy man. So, I turned to what I know best and began to write; in the process, including his physical appearance, characteristics and body into my book as the main male character.

  Gently, I place my cup on the table and continue writing.

  “You wouldn’t happen to be writing about our encounter last week, would you?”

  I jump, sending my pen skidding across the page, marking through the part I’ve just written. I look up ready to say something to the person who’s interrupted me mid-thought only to find myself face to face with him—James.

  He removes his sunglasses from his head. “I’m sorry about that. I didn’t mean to startle you. I hope that wasn’t important,” he says, pointing to the page in front of me.

  If he only knew the scene is a hot sexy one involving him. I avert my gaze, hoping he doesn’t see the blush sweeping across my face as my heart hammers in my chest. Upon hearing the scrape of a chair, I turn back to see him seating himself opposite me. Leaning on the table with his long, lean arms, his skin-tight black t-shirt stretches around his body, revealing every curve of muscle down his biceps.

  What would happen to his shirt if he flexed just a little more?

  I’m guessing it would disintegrate into pieces and give me a gorgeous view of his delicious body. God, I want him to flex so bad just so I can perv.

  I avert my gaze, needing to calm my racing heart while my vagina is begging me to leap the table and give her some much-needed relief, taking from him whatever I can get.

  “So are you going to answer my question?” he asks.

  Slowly, I return my gaze, knowing the instant I look at him my earlier efforts would have been for nothing and my face would betray my every emotion.

  “I’ll answer when I’m ready. For now…I’m rather enjoying the view.” His grin widens. “You see, unlike you, I have the good sense to stare while sitting down and not out running where I could possibly hit a tree.”

  He chuckles as his mouth forms a soft ‘O.’ “I’m not going to live that down, am I?”

  “Sadly, no. I mean you did almost do it a second time.”

  “You saw that?”

  “I did. I was mere moments away from coming to your rescue, but like you said, ‘You’re a big boy,’ so I left you to it.”

  He smirks. “I narrowly escaped with my life.”

  “That’ll teach you to watch where you’re going.”

  He bursts into laughter. “That’s true, but I couldn’t help stopping to stare at a gorgeous woman.”

  I smile and tuck a piece of hair behind my ear, trying to hide my blush.

  He can’t possibly think I’m gorgeous.

  He chuckles. “Would you like another drink?”

  I nod. “Yes, please.”

  “What would you like?”

  “Another hot chocolate.”

  I search in my bag for the ten dollar note I threw into it this morning except the sound of his chair scraping along the floor tells me he’s already gotten out of his seat.

  I sit staring at him as he waits in line to be served. The soft fabric of his shorts strains against his ass as he hops from one foot to the other, flexing his legs like he can’t stand still. I watch as he pays and returns to our table with a small swagger. I can’t believe my luck that this hot, sexy, man has decided to sit with me.

  “So, do I get to know what you’re writing or is it a secret?” James asks, taking a seat opposite me.

  “It’s not a secret, but you probably won’t be interested in it.”

  He shrugs. “Try me.” Without asking, he reaches across the table, picks up my writing and begins to read.

  Oh, God! Is he going to realise I’ve written about him?

  My face is completely flushed with embarrassment as I place my head in my hands; my body shakes while a pit of regret forms inside my stomach. Peeking through my fingers like a three-year-old playing hide and seek, I see James leaning back in the chair, his chin resting upon his fist as he devours my book.

  “Please, give it back. It’s not completely finished, it’s unedited, not perfect and–”

  I’m silenced by James raising a finger. Evidently, he doesn’t care. He continues reading as our drinks are brought over. I really hope he doesn’t read the entire thing.

  James

  I shift uncomfortably in my seat thanks to the raging fucking hard-on I have because of what I’m reading. Riley mentioned she was a writer and by the way she spoke, she doesn’t think very highly of herself. She should. She’s damn good. This word porn has me wanting to take her back to my apartment and show her I can do all these things to her and more. It’s unlike me. I never contemplate taking a woman back to my place. Ever. I’ve not had a woman in my bed since the bitch royally screwed me over.

  I couldn’t believe my luck when I saw her sitting at the table writing as I walked into the café. Her long, dark hair was cascading around her face, writing something with furious intensity. I’ve since learned it involves passion. I glance over the sheets of paper in my hand, then at her. She’s fucking gorgeous. She’s wearing a purple tank top which shows off her perfect tits just for me. I’m sure I can see a hint of purple lace peeking out from beneath the straps of her top too
.

  Do her panties match the bra? I’m itching to find out. It’s a shame I can’t see what she’s wearing on the bottom half of her body, but I’m damn sure it’s sexy as hell.

  She shifts, pushing those incredible tits forward without even realising it.

  I gulp, trying to keep myself in check since we are in public. It hasn’t helped that I’ve had a raging hard-on for her all week. Her gorgeous body has given me some of the sexiest dreams I’ve had since I was a teenager.

  I finish reading and slide her papers back over to her. “It’s good,” I admit. “I’m not normally one to read about sex, I definitely prefer to have it, but that’s a great read.”

  A soft, light pink blush flushes her cheeks and I can’t help but imagine what she would look like if we were having sex.

  “Thanks, I appreciate the feedback.”

  “Have you written any others?”

  She swallows a mouthful of her drink, nodding her head. “Yes. This book is actually the fourth in its series and I’ve written two standalones.”

  Wow! That’s a great achievement.

  I pick up my drink and take a sip. My eyes never leave hers as I do, then I gently lick my lips of the sweet chocolate drink as I wait for her reaction. As I suspect, her doe eyes widen and fill with lust. She averts her gaze to her own cup to hide her reaction however, her eyes have already told me what I want to know. She’s into me.

  I lean back in my chair, thinking of all the deliciously dirty things I could do to her in one night.

  She cocks her head to one side.

  “What are you thinking about?” I ask curiously. I’m really hoping her answer is going to be she wants me to whisk her away from here and find somewhere private to do all the dirty things in her book with her.

  “Actually, I think you’d make a great cover model,” she replies casually.

  That was not what I was expecting.

  “I hoped you’d say I’m hot and you wanted to do all those things to me,” I admit.

  She smiles and a light laugh escapes her lips.

  She does want to do that, the look in her eyes tells me.

  I wonder if I’m not the only one who’s had fantasies this week.

  “You know that’s a work of fiction, right? It’s not real.”

  “I can make it real.”

  She blinks across the table at me. “Wow. You have one hell of an ego.”

  I chuckle. “I have the equipment to back it up too.”

  “I’m sure you do,” she says, though her tone tells me she’s not convinced. “I’m serious, though. You’d make a great cover model. My readers would flip out if I had you on the cover.”

  “They would? Well, what can I say? I am, after all, the inspiration for your male character.”

  We’re interrupted by the waitress coming over. “Sorry, I don’t mean to hurry you both along, but we’re closing in half an hour.”

  “Thanks,” I say as Riley and I both pick up our drinks and finish them. Riley stuffs all her writing things into her bag. She lifts the heavy tote and as we exit the café she swings it over her shoulder.

  “Thank you for the drink, I appreciated it; and for not being a dick about my book when you saw I’d written you into it,” she says, turning towards me.

  “I’m flattered you thought I was handsome enough to be used, and I don’t mind. I enjoyed your company.”

  “Me too. Well, I might see you again next week,” she says as she turns to walk away. The bag swings into her back, and I watch as she lifts it a little to take the weight off her shoulder. A pang of guilt washes over me.

  “Wait!” I call. She stops and turns around. “Listen, if you’re serious about me being the cover model, here’s my card. Give me a call when you’re ready to take the photos. I need a new photo done for my business page anyway, so it could be a bit of fun.” I whip my card out of my wallet and hold it out to her.

  She takes my card and looks at it. “James Billington.”

  “That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

  “I’ve got your number, now I have a way to contact you. You know, in case my fantasies ever get out of hand.”

  I grin at her like an idiot.

  She fantasises about me.

  Good to know.

  “I’ll be in touch. Thanks again for the coffee.”

  “You’re welcome.” This time she turns on her heels and I watch her walk away like some lost little puppy dog being left behind.

  Damn, I need to get laid, but first dinner at Simon’s place.

  I can’t possibly expect to keep up my stamina on an empty stomach.

  Riley

  I dump all my things on my bed and as I do, James’ card pops out of my phone and onto my duvet. Picking it up I thumb over his name.

  Was he serious when he said he’d do a cover model shoot? I hope so.

  I place the card in my wallet and decide to call him later in the week, or perhaps the following week; just so I don’t inflate his ego any further, or make him think I’m desperate to see him again. Of course, that doesn’t mean I can’t research who James Billington is and get some more information about him.

  Picking up my laptop from beneath my bed, I grab the notes I’ve handwritten and start typing them up.

  Carrying my laptop down the hall, I set it up on the dining room table ready to type. I make a coffee before sitting down to work. Once I’m settled, I open my browser and type his name into it. Several photos show up on screen as well as links to pages, documents and tabloid news.

  Oh my God! He’s a billionaire.

  Not just any billionaire, but the billionaire playboy, James Billington. Biggest damn man-whore around town.

  “Girl, who is that hottie?” Courtney giggles from behind me as she walks inside.

  I slam my laptop closed. “No one.”

  “Doesn’t seem like no one considering how fast you closed that computer. Does this ‘no one’ have a name?” she asks.

  “James,” I blurt out.

  Damn it! Me and my big fat mouth.

  “Ohh… How’d you meet him?” she quizzes.

  “I met him last week after he ran into a tree and ever since he’s been the reason I’ve been able to write the way I have.”

  “Oh good, so I might have your next book to read soon.”

  “You will definitely get the first read. You want a wine?” I ask her.

  “Actually, I thought I’d make some margaritas and search Tinder.”

  “Tinder, what for?” I ask.

  “You know, my next one-night stand, that I’ll leave begging for more.”

  I smile. Typical Courtney. She’s always looking for her next conquest and they always beg for a date or another chance to fuck afterwards, but she’s never interested. “Well, you’re single, so I say enjoy it.”

  “Says you, who hasn’t had a good fuck in forever. I mean, how do you write all those steamy romance novels when you aren’t getting any dick? Girl, I think we need to find you a hot man tonight.”

  “Uh-uh, I’m absolutely not interested though, I’ll happily drink margaritas with you.”

  “I’ve heard that vibrator of yours being used. You need some real man meat and we’re going to find you some. By the way, your vibrator sounds sick and overused.”

  “Ha! At least BOB is trustworthy and most certainly isn’t married.”

  She looks over at me and sighs. “Look, we’ll look for me, okay? And if you happen to find someone who appeals to you, then we’ll sign you up and hook you up. How does that sound?”

  “Okay, but I’m not making you any promises.”

  I return to my typing while she brings over a jug of margarita mix. “I take it Gavin is out for the night?”

  She shrugs at my mention of our other roommate as she sits down, “I assume so since he’s not here and hasn’t been home since last night. He’s probably with his girlfriend.” She pours me a glass and slides it over to me.

  This is going to be a me
ssy night.

  Chapter Three

  Riley

  Note to self: Never drink margaritas with Courtney again.

  Standing in my room, I’m staring at myself in the long mirror which hangs on the door of my wardrobe. My dress is black, skin-tight, and strapless with a hemline that stops mid-thigh. Spinning and glancing over my shoulder, I have to admit I look great.

  “Wow, you look awesome,” Courtney says.

  I look at her. “You think?”

  “You’re definitely going to get laid tonight.”

  “I’m never drinking tequila with you again.” I laugh, walking over to my wardrobe and grabbing my favourite deep purple stiletto high heels. A girl has got to have some colour. I grab my matching dark purple large teardrop shaped necklace and put it on. “Done.” I turn to face Courtney.

  “Just in time. It sounds like the taxi’s here. Have fun,” she says as I grab my clutch purse which matches my shoes and exit the house. When I climb into the taxi, a ball of anxiety forms in my stomach and I squeeze my purse within my palms. I’m tempted to get the taxi to drop me off at the beach and bail on the night. Before I can say anything or try to change my mind, I arrive at the bar.

  Here goes nothing.

  I pay and exit, taking a deep breath. Upon showing the bouncer my ID, I enter through the doors. As I walk around the bar, I spot Evan immediately. He’s as handsome as his photo on his Tinder profile.

  He mouths, “Wow” as I approach. “You must be Riley. You’re absolutely stunning.”

  I smile. “Thank you, Evan.”

  “Shall we get a drink and find a table? What would you like?” He motions towards the bar.