Personal Delivery: A Billionaire Secrets Story

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Personal Delivery: A Billionaire Secrets Story Page 11

by Ainsley Booth


  I have the shoes picked out, though. I carefully lift the black heels out of my suitcase. The upper part of the show is an elaborate filigree pattern cut out of black velvet. Whatever dress I choose to wear must match these, because I fell in love with them.

  The heart wants what the heart wants.

  “Jana?”

  Speaking of what—or who—my heart wants… “In your bedroom!”

  He’s tugging his tie loose as he walks through the door, and my knees go wobbly and weak.

  “Hello, handsome.”

  “My apologies for being delayed.” He pulls me close, and I start to work on his shirt buttons as he kisses me. Hot, hungry kisses that too quickly come to an end. He drags in a rough breath. “An old college buddy is in town. How would you feel about going out for dinner?”

  I sway against him. “Sure.”

  He groans and squeezes the back of my neck. “I’ve missed you. We can make it a later dinner so I can properly show you just how much.”

  “Even better.”

  We end up at a hipster bistro just off the north end of Central Park, not far from Columbia University. Jake dressed casually, so I follow his lead, and I’m glad I did, because the place is nothing but denim and plaid and ironic t-shirts.

  I recognize Jake’s friend Ben—the only other clean-cut guy in the place—sitting with a taller, broader, bearded man at a table for four. They both stand, and Jake throws his arms around the bearded giant first.

  “Marcus. God, it’s good to see you.” He steps back and wraps his arm around my waist. “This is my girlfriend, Jana.”

  I hold out my hand Marcus takes it in his, his eyes crinkling as he gives me a slow smile. His handshake is firm, but nice. Can a handshake be nice? His is, and I immediately like him.

  We order drinks, and it doesn’t take long for the conversation to turn to how Jake and I met. Marcus howls when I tell him I thought Jake was a delivery driver.

  “He pulled off playing a man of the people? Shit. Good one, Jake.”

  “I wasn’t trying to trick anyone,” my boyfriend says gruffly, and I squeeze his thigh.

  “I saw what I wanted to see,” I admitted. “I was crushing pretty hard. He could have worn a ‘Hello, My Name is Jake Aston’ sticker and I probably wouldn’t have noticed.”

  Jake covers my hand with his. “It was a mutual crush.”

  The sound of a click drags us back to the other two men. Ben’s holding his phone. “I’m sending this picture to Toby, so he can be a part of the moment when Jake Aston officially—”

  Jake cuts him off with a growl.

  I blush and scramble for something else to talk about. “So, Marcus. What do you do?”

  “I work for the National Park Service in Colorado.”

  My eyebrows shoot up. That wasn’t what I was expecting, although his entire look says rugged, outdoorsy guy. “Cool.”

  Jake claps Marcus on the shoulder. “He was a computer engineer for a few years. We met at MIT. But he was always cutting out of work to climb and hike and do search and rescue.”

  Marcus shrugs. “Pretty much. So I finally realized…that was what I should do on a full-time basis. Turns out there’s a fair bit of paperwork and office time as a park ranger, too. But the ratio of fresh air to behind the desk time is still better.”

  We pause our conversation to order food, then keep going. Marcus is easy to talk to, although I get the sense he’s careful in what he says—and what he doesn’t.

  I have all sorts of questions for Jake about him, but as the night goes on, they slip away. I don’t remember the last time I laughed so hard or enjoyed a meal so much, and that’s saying a lot, because Jake makes me laugh all the time, and my friends are hilarious.

  “Tonight was so much fun,” I murmur against Jake’s cheek as we settle in the back of his car just before midnight.

  “It was.” He grins and gives me a quick kiss. “And you’re pretty toasted.”

  “Just toasted enough.”

  “Enough for what?”

  “Dirty things. Secrets. Whatever you want.”

  “Yes, please.” He shifts his thighs, spreading them wider. I drop my hand to the top of his leg and relish how tight and flexed the muscles are there. Then I stroke my hand higher, happy to find him hard and tight there, too. He groans under his breath. “Ah…”

  I squeeze his erection through his jeans. “I wish we could do this more often.”

  “Mmmm.” He licks his lower lip, and I get distracted by how good his mouth looks when he slicks it wet like that.

  “Because the long-distance thing…”

  He rolls his head toward me and gives me a lazy smile. “Yeah?”

  “I just feel like it’s a little dysfunctional. In a long-term sense.” Whoa. Get a little whiskey in me—and some wine, and those shots, too… And suddenly I’m sharing everything.

  But before I can walk that back, he nods. “You’re right.”

  “I am?”

  “Of course.”

  “Oh. Good.”

  He traces his fingertips over my cheek. “We should talk about this tomorrow.”

  Under my hand, his cock flexes, lengthening. Inside my belly, a corresponding heat swirls. Yes. Tomorrow. Because tonight, or whatever remains of it, we’re definitely busy with something else. Something more physical than a conversation about making our long-distance thing something more…local.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Jana

  The world is too bright.

  I jam my eyelids shut again and roll over, burying my face in Jake’s pillow.

  He’s out of bed already. I hear him moving around, then there’s a faint whir and the room darkens. “Is that better?”

  I lift my head an inch and blink my eyes in his general direction. They feel like I rubbed sand in them. “I think I’m hungover,” I mumble as I take in the fine view of him in a towel, freshly showered.

  He doesn’t look hungover.

  He sets a cup of coffee on the nightstand. “We had a big night.”

  “Let me guess, you’ve already run your miles and made a half-dozen business deals.”

  “Today was arm day, not running.” He chuckles as I flop back against his pillow. “You can sleep for another hour. The stylist is arriving at eleven.”

  “I’m up.” But I don’t move. Moving sounds over-rated in a big way.

  A soft thunk tells him his towel has hit the floor, and that’s motivating. I roll onto my side so I can watch him get dressed. I know he said it was arm day, but his ass is high and tight, with those yummy hollows on either side that make me wonder if he jogs up and down the stairs to the penthouse when I’m not here. Maybe he only uses the elevator for Jana-seduction-purposes.

  I should work out more.

  Drinking last night was a mistake if I want to fit into fancy dresses today.

  On the other hand, his pillows are so—

  When I wake up the second time, the coffee Jake had set beside the bed has been replaced with a new cup, and now there’s a croissant, too.

  I shove myself up, sitting back against the headboard. Coffee, good. Food, good.

  My phone dings at me.

  Nina: Can I come for the dress show-and-tell?

  Jana: Sure.

  Nina: I’m downstairs.

  Jana: That was optimistic.

  Nina: I’m showing this conversation to the doorman. He’s going to bring me up.

  There’s no point in arguing with her, so I throw on some clothes and get to the elevator just as she’s stepping off.

  “Wow,” she whispers, her eyes wide.

  Then she gets a beaming smile on her face, and I don’t need to turn around to know Jake has come into the room.

  Nina loves Jake. They’ve met twice, both times out in public, and she thinks he’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

  She’s not wrong, but I don’t like to give her too much praise for being right in this regard. She likes to take all the cred
it for us ending up together.

  She’s not wrong on that point, either.

  At least she hasn’t brought up the crotchless underwear yet, but the morning is still young.

  “Jake,” she says, and I swear she skips as she crosses to give him a quick hug before she turns to greet me properly.

  Me, her best friend. At least my hug is longer and tighter than the one she gave Jake.

  “I’m so excited about this whole thing. The dresses, the stylist, the jewels.” She spins around. “There will be jewels, right, Jake?”

  He grins and shrugs. “Maybe.”

  “That’s a yes.” She presses her hand to her chest and sighs happily. “This is like Cinderella come to life.”

  I catch Jake’s eye and mouth, Escape while you still can.

  He winks and heads into the kitchen to make Nina coffee instead.

  There are big moments in a relationship when you realize just how important someone is to you. Then there are the little moments, like your billionaire boyfriend being amused by your crazy over-the-top bestie, and the oh my God, I love this man feelings take you completely by surprise.

  “Nina, would you like a croissant?” he calls from the kitchen.

  “Please!”

  “I should shower,” I tell her. “You go have some brunch and I’ll be right back.”

  When I return, Jake is sliding his laptop into a messenger bag.

  I glance past him, but Nina’s safely in the kitchen. “Are you escaping?” I whisper.

  He kisses me quickly. “You said I could.”

  “Take me with you.”

  “And have you miss your Cinderella experience? We couldn’t do that to Nina.”

  “Damn you for being right.” I sigh. “I’ll text you when we’re done.”

  “I’m just going to the office, I’m not far away if you need me.” He slings the bag over his shoulder and heads for the elevator. “And hey, don’t forget your key if you go out.”

  “I…” I glance toward the table in the foyer, where I left it. “The one Pierre used?”

  Jake stops mid-stride, his expression rapidly shifting from confused to chagrined to amused. “Yeah. Hang on.” He jogs to the foyer and comes back holding the key. “So I was thinking you should have a key to my place. This place. So you can come and go whenever. And so you’d know you’re always welcome.”

  I’d seen where he was going with this when his face displayed that circuit of reactions, but it still makes me all warm and feel-y inside. “Are you sure?”

  “I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he murmurs, pressing the card into my hand. He doesn’t let go once I take it. Instead, his fingers circle my wrist as his other hand cups my face. “I like knowing I’m coming home to you.”

  Boom. I don’t know if this is a big moment or a little moment, but there goes my heart again, exploding all over the place.

  “Okay.”

  “I l—” He cuts himself off as the elevator dings behind him.

  The dresses.

  My heart is pounding. Damn Cinderella moment getting in the way of my other special moment.

  “Later,” he whispers.

  He makes his way around Pierre and two impossibly petite women, both dressed head-to-toe in black. Neither of them give Jake a second glance. They’re both laser-focused on me.

  “You must be Jana,” Intense Girl 1 says.

  “We’re so excited to dress you for the Met,” Intense Girl 2 says. “I’m Kyra, and this is Nikki.”

  I hold out my hand. Okay, Kyra’s got a decent grip. Marcus would be proud. “Thank you for bringing me…” I wave at the giant cart behind them. “All of Nordstrom, maybe?”

  They laugh.

  Good. If they like awkward and dorky jokes, we’re going to get on just fine.

  “I’ve got my best friend here for—” Uncensored judgement, probably. “Moral support.”

  I introduce them to Nina and they decline her offer of coffee. Apparently Jake showed her how the fancy machine works.

  They get right down to it. Their cart unfolds to reveal four garment bags hanging inside, as well as a set of shelves filled with shoes and small, white boxes.

  “Undergarments,” Nikki says when my gaze lingers there.

  “I have…my own?”

  She smiles. “Just in case.”

  And with the first dress, a stunning emerald green one-shoulder dress, I realize what she means. I don’t know if my strapless bra will work with that, the way it dips in the back.

  “This one has a built in structure, so you probably don’t need a bra. Would you like to try it on here, or in your bedroom?”

  Jake’s room, but I don’t correct her. I blush. “Here is fine.”

  They’re pros about that, too, and quickly I’m being zipped in. It’s gorgeous, but it’s so tight across the hips I’m not sure I can sit in a limo for the drive to the museum. “It’s a bit tight,” I admit.

  “But perfect through the waist and bust,” Kyra says, nodding brusquely. “On to option two.”

  My breath catches as soon as they unzip the second garment bag. Acres of creamy tulle and lace spill into Nikki’s hands as she lifts out a classic long-sleeved gown. It looks like something Grace Kelly might wear, and I want it so much it hurts, but this, too, doesn’t fit when I try it on.

  “Oh,” I say, my voice cracking. It’s just a bit too big. The sleeves are too long, and the shoulders too broad.

  “You’re a petite thing, for all your curves,” Nikki says. “I think the next dress might be perfect.”

  “This one…” I’m putting the cart way before the horse. I don’t know if I’ll have another reason to wear it. “Could it be altered? Not for Monday, but for another event?”

  “Of course. Would you like us to arrange for that? Mr. Aston said you should keep any and all of the dresses you like.”

  I run my hands down the ivory bodice. It looks like a wedding dress. “Maybe…”

  “Consider it done. And now, option three. This one is the most in keeping with the design standards of this year’s honorary chair. Of course, you don’t need to choose it for that reason, but we believe it’s the one that will most match the common themes others go for.”

  “Oh, now you’ve got me curious.” I hug the lace dress to me. I think my heart has already been lost to a dress I can’t wear. So now we might as well be logical about the next two options.

  Except when they reveal the next one, it’s not just the most fashion-forward design so far, it’s also sexy as hell. “Wow,” I breath. It’s got a black satin bodice, cut sharply, and then a billowing chiffon skirt that fades from black at the hips to a stark white at the bottom. Flames of gray lick up and down the skirt as the fabric flows. It’s modern and monochromatic and I like it a lot. “Yes, this one, maybe.”

  They unzip me out of the lace, and I step into the new dress. The skirt swirls around me in layers as they fit it to my body, and Nina is already clapping before I turn around.

  “Yes, that’s the one.” She nods proudly. “You look like a model.”

  “I even have shoes for it,” I say, not quite believing how perfect the dress is. “Nina, they’re on the low dresser in Jake’s bedroom, can you grab them?”

  Kyra whips out her measuring tape. “Now let’s just figure out what bra size you are, and then we’ll move on to undergarments.”

  “I’m a—”

  She shakes her head. “Oh, honey. Whatever you think you are is probably wrong. And for this dress, let’s just start from ground zero. We want to get it right. Arms up, good, and down.”

  It turns out my band size was an inch too loose, and my cup size a letter too small. They have one bra on their cart in my new size, and they’re right—it does fit better.

  “We can bring you more options in that size on Monday, if you’d like,” Nikki offers.

  I shake my head. “Nina? Let’s go lingerie shopping.”

  Kyra beams proudly and hands over a quick han
dwritten list. “Excellent. Look for these brands and these sizes and shapes. I think for Monday, you want a full body suit to hold in your adorable tummy.” I raise my eyebrow at her and she blushes for the first time since this whirlwind dressing thing started. “I mean…”

  Nina laughs. “She means your tummy is adorable and I know Jake agrees. But for Monday, we want that sucker flat all night. Get one with an extra panel. Don’t worry, they come in sexy versions, right?”

  The stylists nod.

  Three against one. Time to do some shopping.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  Jake

  On Sunday morning, Jana joins me in my gym just as I’m finishing my run. She’s sipping a green smoothie and hands another for me.

  “Are we being healthy after the excess of Friday night?”

  “Something like that.” She eyes my treadmill suspiciously.

  “Would you like to have a run?”

  “No.” The answer comes fast enough that I know it’s not quite what she meant to say, and we both chuckle.

  “Are you nervous about tomorrow?”

  “Oh my God, yes.” She sags against the treadmill arm and makes a face. “Also, I don’t know how to make a good green smoothie. It’s missing coffee, whipped cream, and a Starbucks barista to prepare it properly.”

  I take a sip of mine. It’s great, for what it is. I lean in. “I’ll let you in on a secret. The only people who truly love these things don’t have taste buds. Or they’ve never had a Frappucino.”

  “I don’t think one day of a green smoothie and pretending to exercise is going to make a difference,” she says. “So we should go to Starbucks.”

  “We definitely should. And on the way, you should tell me why you’re nervous about tomorrow.”

  “I told you months ago that we’re going to have an awkward run-in with a supermodel ex.” She’s teasing, but there’s a kernel of fear that’s very real to her at the core of that.

 

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