Just Friends: A Summer Fling With A Billionaire Heir

by Cynthia Dane

  As if she had bought her way into extra sensory perception, Eloise became the first to turn around in her seat and greet the new arrivals with a stern look of warning.

  “Mother?” Zack looked to his father for an explanation. “How lovely for you to join us on short notice.” Rachel hid behind him. He didn’t blame her.

  Eloise turned her full attention toward them. “Of course I came. Once your father fessed up who he was coming here to see, I insisted on tagging along.”

  Isaiah sent him an apologetic look. “Please, have a seat and introduce us to your friend.”

  Great. Zack wasn’t prepared to introduce Rachel to his mother. Not after the way she found out about the mere existence of Rachel Taylor. Namely, with her head in his lap. I hope she never finds out about that, Jesus. Let alone the comments on Twitter…

  Zack knew he was a hot commodity among young single women, but according to Twitter, he had his absolute pick of ladies willing to take Rachel’s place in that lake house.

  “Mom, Dad,” Zack stepped out of the way and presented his girlfriend, a nondescript woman of humble origins who wore nothing fancier than a plain department store blouse and a pair of dark wash jeans. The moment Eloise’s eyes eagerly fell upon Rachel’s plain Jane persona, her countenance crashed into a mixture of disbelief and, dare he say, shock. Isaiah remained neutral. “Allow me to introduce you to my friend Rachel Taylor.”

  She bowed her head – and then her waist, as if this were a Japanese business meeting instead of an informal meeting with Zack’s parents. “Pleased to meet you,” she said.

  “Charmed.” Eloise did not extend her hand for a shake. Not that she usually did in these situations, but Zack didn’t fail to notice it nonetheless.

  Isaiah, on the other hand, stood up and motioned to the empty chairs on the other side of the table – the ones with their backs to the skyline. Zack pulled out a chair for Rachel before having a seat in the other. “It’s nice to finally meet you,” Isaiah said with business decorum. “We hope that this does not interrupt your schedule.”

  Rachel quickly shook her head. “My schedule is pretty flexible.”

  “Oh? What do you do?”

  Damnit, Mom. Zack instantly knew where this was going. He almost changed the subject, but Rachel answered anyway. “I’m a Japanese translator.”

  Eloise raised her manicured eyebrows in genuine surprise. “Is that so?” Was she actually impressed? Maybe this wouldn’t go too badly, after all. “Which company do you work for?”

  Never mind.

  “I’m actually a freelancer.”

  There it was. The disappointment returning to Eloise’s face. “Oh.”

  “Now, my love, let’s not badger poor Rachel with the usual questions we love to hound his girlfriends with,” Isaiah said, holding up his menu as if he had any attention to give it.

  “I’m not his…”

  “Rachel has quite a successful business,” Zack interrupted. “She translates all sorts of things, from novels to legal documents. When’s the last time you knew anyone who was that amazing at a foreign language?”

  His mother managed to strike two birds with one stone when she said, “Ian Mathers is fluent in French and single-handedly saved one of his father’s business meetings when a French heiress was offended by something misspoken to her. According to his mother, anyway.”

  “First of all,” Zack replied, hackle’s raised, “his accent is terrible and the only reason that French heiress didn’t slap him for it is probably because she wanted to sleep with him. Second, his mother thinks the sun was literally born from his ass, so don’t believe her praises.”

  Both Rachel and Eloise looked at him in bewilderment. Indeed, why the fuck am I so defensive, huh? Probably because he didn’t want to think of Sadie while introducing his parents to Rachel. She’s only probably the first woman I’ll ever care for like that since Sadie. Nope. Not bitter at all.

  Isaiah once again intervened. “Nihon de itta koto ga arimasu ka?”

  Rachel’s eyes widened. “Hai,” she demurely answered, hand near her mouth. “Quite a few times. You speak Japanese?”

  “A touch. I studied it in school because they were the go-to Asian country for steel products back then. Has come in handy much more than French.” That was directed at his wife.

  “And I speak marina service-worker Spanish.” Zack held up the menu. “We’re a well-rounded group, all right. So what’s the special today?”

  Zack was determined to keep the peace during this lunch. He wouldn’t be worried if it were his father sitting across from them, but Eloise brought her own set of problems. Thanks, Dad. Isaiah never could keep things from his wife. Evan got involved in a bad DUI scandal a few years ago, and Isaiah had managed to not only keep it out of the press but also away from his wife for a few weeks… until she noticed how much his lip twitched every time they discussed their second son, who was supposedly on business in Shanghai (but was really holed up in a hospital in Singapore.) Since then, Isaiah couldn’t control the lip twitching.

  Rachel squirmed in her seat every time Eloise asked her an invasive question. The poor woman couldn’t get her hot dinner rolls before the inquisition started. “Where did you go to school? What company did you work for in Japan? How successful are you, really? What do your parents do? What part of town do you live in?” Rachel could only deflect so much. It was a learned skilled, and she probably didn’t have any real need for it before meeting the Feldmans.

  “How long have you two been seeing each other, exactly?”

  Zack dropped his salad fork in resignation. “We met about a month ago.”

  “A month? That’s it?”

  “Like I said, Mom, we’re friends, nothing more.” To be fair, nothing had killed his arousal from the elevator like hearing his mother’s nasally voice thrown like rocks in Rachel’s direction. “We met by chance at one of the cafés downtown.”

  Eloise continued to fling sharpened daggers from her eyes. We’re not getting married, for fuck’s sake. What was this really about? Rachel weaseling her way into the family fortune, even though Zack was getting the smallest share out of his brothers? The pictures that appeared on that blog, only to be forgotten a week later? Or was there something else afoot?

  “So Uncle Roy is back in town,” Zack quickly changed the subject. “You probably saw him the other day when you came down to the marina, Mom.”

  ‘Ugh,” she scoffed, “him.”

  “Have you been down to visit yet?” Zack asked his father. He could humiliate his parents like they humiliated Rachel. “Bet he’d love to take his little brother out for a spin around the bay before he heads to the Mediterranean in the fall.”

  “No,” his father said with pressed lips, “I haven’t had the chance yet.”

  “If that man wants to see his family badly enough, he knows where to find us,” Eloise said with finality. As much as she did not care for her brother-in-law, the strict, filial protocol she was raised with dictated that she show her husband’s older brother some deference. This meant that while she would never set foot on Roy’s yacht, she likewise would not turn him away from her front door. “Aren’t you two hungry? You’ve barely touched your food.”

  Zack had no appetite. Rachel, who had been relatively quiet outside of answering inappropriate questions, looked away in embarrassment. As cute as she was in that shade of pink, Zack could not say he appreciated how it came to bloom on her fair face. Thanks, Mom. Thanks for being the usual asshole I’ve come to know and sometimes love. Only out of obligation, for the most part.

  Isaiah saved them by faking an emergency meeting at the office. Zack knew it was fake because Isaiah flashed his son a knowing wink the moment he announced the text he had mysteriously received. “I’ll get the check.” He put a hand on his wife’s arm. “You can take the car to your bridge club after Manuel drops me off at the office. But we better get going. There’s trouble in Luxembourg.”

  Eloise threw her cloth napki
n down before getting up with her husband. She shot her son one final sour look before slinging a fake, incisor-infused smile at his girlfriend. “Sorry we couldn’t chat more, Rachel. I look forward to seeing you at all the family events in the future.”

  “Uh…”

  “What are you talking about?” Zack asked.

  “There’s Javier Cortez’s big gala for sick kids in Central America next week. Surely you’re going to that, right? You know what a big partner he is in the family business.”

  “Of course I do.” The Cortezes single-handedly funneled Feldman Steel into Latin America. The Feldmans had made a showing of supporting the patriarch’s noble charity causes every time he decided to take one up, and Zack occasionally showed up if he felt like it. He had no idea he was required to go now… let alone bring a date.

  “And then we’re having a family dinner with the Walkens next weekend. Portia told me she is certain that Daniel is finally going to propose to her daughter, and you have to be there.”

  Again, why did this require Rachel’s presence?

  “Make sure to spoil your friend, Zachary.” Those were Eloise’s parting words as she twiddled her fingers and followed her husband to the entrance. “A trip to Raul’s Salon would freshen you up, dear! It did wonders for Jasmine Cole!”

  Zack waited until his parents were out of sight before putting a reassuring hand on Rachel’s thigh. “Wait here. I’m going to clear something up with the host.”

  Naturally, that was not what he set out to do when he slinked to the front of the room. The Feldmans waited for the elevator while Zack lurked behind the partition and listened to what his parents couldn’t wait to say.

  “What does he see in her?” Eloise had a cigarette clenched between her fingers. She hadn’t smoked since marrying Isaiah, but she told her family that holding a cigarette she never intended to smoke helped calm her nerves. Good to know she’s irritated enough to pump that addictive shit into her bloodstream. “I’ve never seen a more boring woman in my life!” She stuck the cigarette in her mouth while Isaiah stared at the blinking numbers above the elevator, a silent prayer emanating from his rigid form. “She must fellate better than a hooker from the Chateau to keep him wrapped around her sickly pale finger.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Eloise. That’s our son you’re talking about.”

  “Do you believe for one second that they’re just friends? Our son has never been a good liar. He’s an infuriating charmer, but he’s a shit liar, like you, Isaiah. At best he’s using the poor girl who’s in way over her head with him. At worst, they’re getting married next week.”

  “Please.” The elevator doors opened. Isaiah waited for a party of three to get off before leading his wife in. “Like he would upstage his brother’s proposal like that.”

  They disappeared into the elevator without having seen their son. The party of three, meanwhile, smacked right into him on their way to the coat check.

  “Pardon me. I dropped a contact.” Zack returned to the table, where Rachel absentmindedly scrolled through Facebook on her phone.

  “All good?” she asked.

  Zack didn’t sit down. “Let’s get out of here. Please.”

  She put her phone away. “To go where, exactly?”

  He wanted to say the marina, where they could sun on his yacht and make out like teenagers in bed. And more. God, I wanna do more right now. But he remembered how much Rachel detested the marina, and she wasn’t any good to him passing out in fear. “Let’s go to your place. I haven’t seen it yet.”

  She bit her lip, but didn’t deny him an invitation.

  Chapter 20

  Rachel knew exactly what would happen the moment they stepped across her threshold.

  No, she didn’t worry about Zack judging her living space, from how tiny it was, to the cheap furniture and dishware, and finally the strange smell that wafted up from the kitchen sink, rain or shine. No, what Rachel knew would happen was the kiss coming for her as if them making out after meeting his parents was the most natural course of action.

  “Whoa, whoa.” Rachel gently shoved him off her before her door had the chance to close. “Hold on, tiger. We need to go over some ground rules.”

  Zack kicked off his shoes after watching Rachel start the ritual. At least she could say her carpet stayed relatively clean. “What now? Did I misread this whole thing again?”

  Rachel definitely wasn’t misreading it. One glance down told her about the bulge forming in his pants. Ignore the temptation, girl. Rachel dumped her purse on a dining chair before turning toward him with a hopeful huff in her throat.

  “No going all the way,” she said with absolute authority. “If your dick comes within five inches of the No-Go Zone, we’re done. Got it?”

  “Wow.” Zack rubbed the back of his head. If he thought he was slyly looking toward her queen-sized hand-me-down bed in the corner of the studio apartment, then he could rethink that thought. It was as clear as the ever hardening bulge in his pants. “Okay. I guess that makes sense. So you’re still keeping a part of your vow?”

  “For now.” Rachel leaned against her square dining table, straight from IKEA during one of their big sales a year ago. Where was this guy when I was trying to put it together? The only reason she finished it was because Parvati took enough pity on her to come by at ten at night to help. “I told you that I wanted to take things slow, right?”

  “I somewhat recall that.”

  “I haven’t gone back on that. Oral sex is fine, but…”

  “Please, for the love of God,” Zack planted his hands firmly on her shoulders. “You’ve gotta let me finger you.”

  Rachel was taken aback. “You actually wanna do that?”

  “What kind of guys have you been sleeping with who don’t wanna do that? They never heard of foreplay?”

  No, not really. Most of the guys she had been with thought foreplay was dry humping and sucking her nipples. For hours, if she let some of them go that crazy. I know I have nice breasts, but come on. It gets ridiculous at some point.

  Zack stood back with a contemplative look on his face. He’s coming across like he’s Sherlock Holmes deducing my sexual history! Where was the houndstooth and the pipe between his teeth? “When was the last time a man properly went down on you?”

  “I…!”

  “If you tell me never, I’m gonna choose that you’re lying, because I refuse to believe that not a single man has ever wanted to give you some of the best pleasure you could give him.”

  “To be fair, I’m not that into it…” She was telling the truth. Rachel would take the awkward fingering and intense dry humping over a man’s oral foray any day.

  “What? I can’t believe that. Maybe you’ve never had good oral sex.”

  “Let’s take it one thing at a time, Zack.”

  “Right, right. My bad.” He shook his hands out and placed them on his hips. That only brought more attention to the hard-on growing in his jeans. “So no homeruns today. I can work with that.”

  “You can?”

  “Of course! I mean, it’s sexually infuriating, but I’m a big boy who can deal.”

  Rachel nodded, hopeful.

  “Only on one condition, though.”

  She stopped nodding. What now?

  “You’ve gotta throw me a bone, Rachel.” They both looked at the tentpole sprouting in their campsite. “To my bone, as it were.”

  It took her a moment to read the look in his eyes. There it was, the image of them sprawled out on her bed, her legs wide open as he thrust between them as if he would never have the chance to fuck a woman ever again. Oh my God. Don’t do this to yourself, Rachel.

  “No coming on me,” Rachel said. “I’m not on birth control.”

  “I don’t think it would…”

  “Not the point. Your swimmers don’t come near me down there, and definitely not anywhere near my face.”

  “What about in your face? Didn’t have a problem the other day.”

&nb
sp; “I’m not…” she cleared her throat. “Opposed.”

  “Thank God.” While her shriek echoed in her tiny apartment, Zack swept her up in his arms and strode toward her bed. “Can we please get down to business now? I know I’m not the only one who wants to!”

  He threw her down on her bed. Before she had the chance to open her eyes, push herself up, or even give him a what-for verbal lashing from hormonal hell, Zack pushed her down and covered her mouth in one of those cataclysmic kisses that often ruined a woman’s life.

  Bless them.

  Yes, Rachel certainly wanted this. She wanted him in bed with her, kissing her, ripping off her shirt and diving into her cleavage like a famished sailor on shore leave. She wanted everything else that came with sex – especially sex with Zack – but she managed to still leverage some control in the situation. Fine. Control over my own desires! Way easier said than done.

  “Do you like kissing me?”

  Rachel had almost forgotten that they were even kissing, let alone making out like bandits in a pleasure house. One second Zack’s tongue was deep in her throat, and the next he was using it to ask her a question like that. “Yes,” she whispered. “Don’t you like kissing me?”

  “Love it. Let’s do more of it.”

  “Why did you ask me that? Feeling insecure?”

  He pulled her down to the edge of her bed. “Never. Never insecure.”

  “Then why ask?”

  “Because I like it when the women I’m with express their enthusiasm. Crazy as it may sound, it’s hot and turns me on.”

  “I…”

  Rachel wasn’t allowed to talk much that day. Not when Zack was always ready to interrupt her, be it with his words or his kisses silencing her. Am I really silent? Nope! Those were definitely groans and moans coming from her throat and mingling with his.

  Zack finagled his shirt off his body and encouraged Rachel to scrawl her nails down his hard chest. Oh my God. This man’s body is unreal! He wasn’t ripped like a bodybuilder – which was good, because Rachel wasn’t into those types – but he was athletically fit, as if he spent every other day in the gym doing nothing but contouring his body into something that would stop every woman walking down the street should this asshole decide to go shirtless for a day. Doing stuff on a boat really gets you fit, huh? Who knew!