The Billion Dollar Contract: The Executive Collection

by Cynthia Dane

  “Is that so?”

  “On my mother’s side.”

  “Then it’s really legit.”

  He stepped on the gas as soon as they were in the western part of the city, heading away from the hustle and bustle of downtown and speeding toward the countryside. As soon as they were free from towering buildings, Ethan hit the button that lowered the roof, welcoming the sunlight and the wind playing with the ends of Jasmine’s hair.

  She lifted her arms up and shouted the moment Ethan plowed his foot down and took off for an exit. The rev of the engine was both frightening and exquisite. Like being with him sometimes. The scent of early spring hit her the moment they turned onto an old highway and rolled near the meridian. There was no one else on the road at that time of day.

  Ethan turned on the radio, left on a modern rock station. Not classical? Not NPR? Jasmine stared at him in wonder, the man content behind his sunglasses as he kept his eyes on the road and tapped his fingers on the steering wheel to a Foo Fighters song. He went to a Nirvana concert when he was a kid. Did he idolize David Grohl? Was there a stack of CDs somewhere emblazoned with the Foo Fighters logo? Jasmine tried to focus on the world passing by and instead could only think about Ethan Cole playing air guitar in his office. She busted out laughing and ate some of her hair as it blew into her mouth.

  She had pulled it into a low side-ponytail, mostly because the dress Ethan presented her with when she got out of the shower demanded it. A sleeveless white sundress with green flowers blooming all over it. At first Jasmine thought it was some other woman’s dress, but Ethan claimed to have gone across the street to buy it for her. “You need something to wear today. I’ll have your other clothes washed and returned to you on Monday at the latest.” Jasmine could hardly believe it. Especially when it fit her perfectly. Ethan had guessed her size without a second thought. He knows my body better than I do. That was a trip.

  So was the song that came on next. Aerosmith’s Jaded, the very song Jasmine and her friends used to drunkenly sing back in college.

  Ethan nearly leaped out of his seat when Jasmine started belting out the lyrics over the sound of the engine and the wind. They were heading up a mountain now, the air becoming fresher and the sun brighter. I love it. Jasmine yelled out lyrics about baby blues while Ethan tried to contain a smile on his otherwise perfect poker face.

  The song came to an abrupt end when Ethan turned off to an overlook near a valley, shutting off the engine and the song with it. Jasmine was caught mid-verse and had to clap her mouth shut, letting the serene mountain air take them over.

  “What are we doing here?” she asked, hoarse.

  Ethan wrapped his arms around the steering wheel and leaned his chin against it. “I like the view from up here. It’s peaceful.”

  Jasmine looked out at the valley, still a bit brown and sparse from the winter. She did not doubt that in the summer it was full of greens and flowers blooming like heaven in the afterlife. Although it was not breathtaking now, the air was crisp and clean and everything quiet. “I like your stupid face.”

  Now the silence was awkward. Ethan leaned back in his seat and looked at her through his dark sunglasses. “My face is not stupid.”

  Jasmine reached over and pinched his fuzzy cheek. “Try again.” And shave. Or not. She could dig some stubble. But then I get the aftershave…

  Ethan took her by the wrist. At first Jasmine thought he would push her away, but then he turned her hand in his, brought it up to his lips, and gently kissed it. She almost laughed. Especially when his eyebrows popped up above his glasses as if surprised by her reaction.

  “You are really beautiful today. Stunning.” His eyes did not leave her visage, although after a time they gazed down at her dress and then back to her side pony-tail. “Rather ‘90s.”

  This time Jasmine really did laugh, snatching her hand away to run her fingers through her thick and now frizzy hair. “You seem like the kind of man who likes the ‘90s. Mr. Nirvana.”

  “Do I smell like teen spirit?”

  “God I hope not.” Jasmine opened her purse and pulled out her own sunglasses that she never got to use. They were dirty, but it wasn’t like she was trying to see through them anyway. “This will blow you away, but I always preferred the Weird Al version of that song.”

  “Who said I didn’t too?”

  Jasmine scoffed as if he were pulling her leg. “You’re weird, Mr. Cole.”

  “Not as weird as you, Miss Bliss.”

  He looked back at the view of the valley, slumping into his seat as both hands remained firmly on the steering wheel. Jasmine leaned her elbow against her headrest, nails digging into her scalp and skirt riding up her thighs. A cool breeze blew through and made her bare skin shiver. “Why me?” she asked.

  Ethan turned his head slightly. Jasmine couldn’t tell if he was looking at her with the sunglasses on, however. “What now?”

  “I mean… you could have any woman in the world. You asked me to be your, uh, whatever, after only seeing me one time. You hadn’t even talked to me yet. If that’s not crazy then I don’t know what is.”

  “I know what I want. I wanted you.”

  He said it so matter-of-factly that Jasmine almost believed him. “That’s not good enough. We’re past the point of me being placated with that. There’s gotta be a deeper reason.”

  “When it comes to that sort of thing, I’m not nearly as deep as you think I am.”

  “So your cock was all about me, and you decided to listen to your second head.”

  “You could say that.”

  “You really know how to make a woman feel special.”

  Before she could face forward with a huff, Ethan took her hand again and gave it a tender squeeze. “I’m a firm believer in lust leading to other things.”

  “So what you’re saying is… you’re a love, I mean lust, at first sight kind of guy, huh?”

  He remained silent, his hand holding hers as they gazed at each other – or at least Jasmine presumed so. For all she knew Ethan was staring at her chest. But then, as if he were a terrible black hole sucking her into his event horizon, he drew her mouth toward his and kissed her with everything he had.

  They hadn’t made out in over a week. Jasmine had missed it, although she didn’t want to admit that the way his lips nibbled on hers and his tongue entwined with hers was intoxicating. He’s only this good because he’s had lots of practice with lots of women. She almost didn’t care. She wanted Ethan to make her feel special now, as if the reason he chose her was because of something innate about her. Something that set her above all those other women who clearly weren’t the right ones for him…

  No, Jasmine, this is how you get hurt. This is how you end up mad at him for a week. This is how… His warm hand was on her cheek, and everything came undone inside.

  Jasmine wrapped her arms as tightly as she could around him, a burden considering their awkward positioning in the car. That could be fixed. With the warm sunshine on her, Jasmine undid her seatbelt and climbed into Ethan’s lap, wishing that he would take off his seatbelt and take her into the backseat.

  Ow. Steering wheel. She didn’t care. A stickshift could be jamming into her ass and she would still be on cloud nine in this Lamborghini with Ethan Cole beneath her. Now she could straddle his lap and make out with him like she was meant to. Who knew a whole week without him could leave her wanting so much? I don’t know how I feel about him… I want to like him. Well, she did like him. Their situation aside, she liked how nice he was to her even when he was telling her to get on her knees in his office and shoving himself into her mouth. She liked him when he spoiled her silly and did things like putting her to bed when she was drunk and sleeping beside her. As they kissed, everything that pissed her off went out the window. Or into the air, as was more apt right now. I’m going to make him want me. She ground her hips against his, her lips searching his face for something to make love to. Her hands came up to r
emove his sunglasses. His designer wear clattered with her cheap Target knock-offs in a cup holder.

  There it is. Ethan never took long to get ready for her. Early on she assumed he was already hard when she came into his office. Now she knew that he was probably only thinking about it, since his body was alert more often than most men she dated. Either that or I just really turn him on… Thinking that turned her on even more.

  She didn’t know how far this was going to go. They were in a car, for goodness sakes. Out in the open, where anybody driving by slowly enough could see what they were doing. Out on a country highway anything like that was possible. But Ethan was adamant, holding Jasmine close to him as he kissed the top of her chest as it spilled from her sweetheart neckline. Although he was gentle on top, he was a demon down below, grinding his erection against the inside of her thigh as if he thought he was going to get beneath her lingerie like that.

  Not so fast. He may have been ready to go, but Jasmine wasn’t about to be caught mid-coitus by anyone passing by on the road. She broke free from Ethan’s impenetrable grasp and gingerly moved back to the passenger seat, where she stuck her knees in the soft leather and bent her head into his lap.

  It was a strange thing, missing this. When Ethan first started asking her to pleasure him like this on a regular basis, Jasmine didn’t think it was possible to come to look forward to it as if it were a perfectly natural thing to do. Not that she didn’t enjoy it in any way. But before, she would have never said that pulling a man out of his trousers and teasing him with her tongue was something she delighted in. Because it’s him. He always made sure she knew how good he thought she was by digging his fingers into her head, her shoulders, her lower back. His groans made her happy – at first she assumed it was because it meant she was doing it “right” and he would be more apt to give her the money at the end of their contract. But now it was also a source of pride. Making Mr. Composed Rich Guy come undone in places like this was a power trip Jasmine rarely got to experience.

  “Well this is an interesting turn of events.” The words came out of Ethan’s mouth in a forced whisper, a moan laced in its undercurrents. Jasmine wanted him to shut the hell up. She gave his base a firmer grasp and let her lips cover his head. Now he couldn’t talk except to tell her how good it felt.

  I know. He didn’t have to tell her. She could taste it on his tip, feel it beneath her hand. This man was happy to have her do this to him. Jasmine would never suggest that she was the best in the world, but the positive affirmation she got from him trying to control his breathing as his fingers clutched the zipper of her dress for dear life was the greatest thing she felt all day.

  The original plan was to get him almost there and then pull back. Make him frustrated and then take her in the back seat. But then she was there, feeling him firm beneath her touch and tasting his arousal on her tongue. I can wait. Ethan wouldn’t get out of reciprocating that day. Jasmine would track him down and tie him up first!

  It didn’t take much longer. Just when she predicted it was going to happen, Ethan bent over her head, his hand pushing against her back as his heavy breaths filled her ear – and his release covered her tongue.

  Can’t let this nice outfit and car get messed up now, can we? Jasmine was thorough in her attentions after his orgasm, sure to not leave a remnant on either himself, her lips, or anything he owned. Though she minded how sensitive he was now by being as gentle as possible, Ethan leaned back in his seat, head over the headrest as he gazed at the clear sky from behind closed eyes. He gradually lost rigidity in Jasmine’s mouth, and when she was sure it was done, she sat up and kissed him.

  Most men would have jerked in disgust. Not Ethan. The only reason he didn’t pull her into a tight embrace and fill her throat with his tongue was because of the car and the fact the poor man was spent for now.

  He’s not embarrassed or ashamed by anything. He didn’t care that Jasmine probably tasted like him. Maybe it filled him with power. Because he of all people needed more of that.

  His hands roamed down her frame and tugged at her skirt. Yet Jasmine ended their tryst with a kiss to his cheek and sat back in the passenger seat, more satisfied than Ethan ever was.

  “No?”

  Jasmine grinned. “Later. When you’re ready again.”

  Ethan studied her for a second before picking up his sunglasses from the cup holder and then zipping himself up. “Well then.” He pulled his seatbelt back on. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “To where?”

  The Lamborghini purred when he started it up. “Home.”

  21

  Jasmine had no frame of reference when it came to The Hills. She only knew it was a small, mountainous area overlooking the city. On a clear night, she could see mansions and smaller estates from the top floors of the Jackson-Cole building. But that still only afforded her a view of twinkling lights popping in and out between trees.

  She had heard tales of the place. Expansive, old mansions that were homes to some of America’s oldest families. Nobody went up there unless they had good reason to. Sure, some million-dollar homes roosted at the bottom of the hill, and self-important joggers could be spotted running around as if they owned the place, but for the most part, the properties farther up and in remained a mystery to those who could never afford to live there.

  Ethan didn’t think twice about ascending the first hill with his sparkling white Lamborghini. Jasmine held her hair down against her chest as giant evergreens began to shade what seemed like the entire world. He’s taking me to his house. His actual house. Not a penthouse he crashed at and offered to let her live in for a while. His honest to God home.

  The roads here were largely empty, which was good since they twisted and turned through the hills and Ethan did not want to slow down. But the few cars that passed them going in the other direction were just as luxurious as the Lamborghini. Audis, Corvettes, Jaguars… a splendor of colors Jasmine had never seen outside of a tradeshow before.

  “Wow.” The houses became bigger the deeper they pierced the hills. Jasmine almost missed another limousine going by as she stared at a gorgeous cream-colored mansion sitting pretty atop one of the smaller hills. A riot of reds, yellows, and oranges bloomed along the fence line. The only thing spoiling the fantasy was the maintenance man on the riding lawnmower.

  After all of this, Jasmine could only imagine what Ethan’s place was like. What kind of home did a billionaire bachelor live in?

  In answer to her question, Ethan abruptly turned off the road and down a private driveway lined with trees. Sunshine splayed through the branches as it attempted to rain upon Jasmine’s skin, her arms up in the air and fingers brushing against the warm winds passing beneath Mother Nature. Pollen filled her nostrils but did not disturb her.

  The driveway was a good two or three miles long, and dumped them out in a roundabout before the humble estate.

  Really? This is it? Oh, it was plenty big. It was a mansion, after all. But compared to the other ones Jasmine saw driving up there, this looked to be more of a vacation home than a permanent dwelling.

  The Lamborghini parked out front. Jasmine pushed her hair out of her face and stared at the modest mansion. It was made out of brick, in the Georgian style, with some Greek revival in front. The second story had a wraparound balcony, while shy alcoves peeked out from the light red roof. It reminded Jasmine of pictures of southern plantations, but done in a novel way that gave it the charm of northern ingenuity. It reminds me of him. In the front were four imposing pillars, just like Ethan put up an imposing front at the office. But behind that ruthless veneer was something soft and handsome.

  And something cheerful, as an older woman in a house cleaner’s uniform appeared in the center of the second story balcony. She waved at Ethan as he got out of his car. “Good morning, Mr. Cole! Wasn’t expecting you back so soon.”

  Ethan waved back at her as he rounded his car and opened Jasmine’s door. He took her by the hand
and helped her out. By then, the woman had disappeared from the balcony, and a middle-aged man with salt and pepper hair stepped out from the front doors.

  “Harold!” Ethan motioned to Jasmine. “This is Jasmine. Jasmine, Harold.”

  They nodded at each other. The woman in the uniform appeared behind the older man, smiling as if they didn’t get many guests.

  As Jasmine gradually got to know them, she discovered that they were a married couple who lived at the mansion with Ethan. The only two he employed, aside from the driver who lived elsewhere and the occasional chef, maintenance people, and landscapers. It was Harold and his wife Belinda who watched over the property and lived in a small in-law suite detached from the mansion.