Billionaire Brothers 2 : Love Has A Name

by S. Ann Cole

  He prays? This sonuvabitch? “Praying?” I asked in an incredulous tone.

  Still wagging his head and laughing at me, he stood up from the bar stool and came around the breakfast bar to stand in front of me. “Yes, Axia. Praying. I’ve been up since six this morning to do my daily devotion. Had to dig down the place to find that old Bible you got in high school.”

  Now I felt like an idiot. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know that you…”

  “Every morning. Can’t start my day unless I do. Whenever I don’t, my day tends to turn out shitty.” He pulled me in his arms and tilted my chin to look me in the eyes. “I’m not as bad as people say I am. I believe there’s a powerful, benevolent and loving God who’s made me this fortunate. And it’s imperative that I show Him my appreciation and acknowledgment.” A smile tugged at his lips which then formed into a smirk. “So, do you have a problem with me talking to Him whenever I’m here, too?”

  I narrowed my eyes at him and smacked his chest, feeling too abashed to speak.

  Chuckling, he lifted me up and set me on the countertop. “You really don’t care whatever or whomever I do?”

  A burning feeling, other than jealously or anger, made an invasion into my hormones, and it didn’t lend me any inclination to converse. Licking my lips in a wanton-like manner, I pulled the ties of the robe and shoved it down his shoulders. “No. I don’t.”

  He shook his arms so that the robe fell to the floor, and there he stood, wonderfully, gloriously, deliciously naked before me. Wow. Savior in heaven, the man was beautiful beyond comparison, from head to toe.

  “So you’re saying you don’t have a problem with me being with someone else other than you?” A deep frown marred his features but I didn’t care, there was only one thing on my mind at that moment.

  Locking my legs around his waist, I pulled him towards me. “Correct.”

  I dug my fingers in his shabby hair and pulled his face down to mine, claiming his mouth with desperate need. Lovello smoothed his hands up my thighs, pausing on my ass to squeeze on a moan as he flexed his hips into me — his grand erection already pointing. Trailing his hands up my back, he grasped the hem of my top and pulled it over my head while I dashed feverish kisses everywhere my lips could reach, writhing with impatience. Jeesh, I was addicted to the man.

  Lowering his head, he took a puckered nipple in his mouth, evoking a drawling moan from me. He was slow and deliberate, taking his time to divide his love between both breasts, groaning as he did, which sent shivers through my veins. By the time his fingers dipped inside my boy-shorts, I was slippery wet. Lovello drew a shaky breath when he realized just how much I needed him. He brought his lips back to mine as his thumb made circles over my bud. When he thrust two fingers inside me, I gripped his biceps and moaned. Loud. Everything about his touch made me wild.

  His tongue trailed from the base of my neck, up my throat, nipping at my cheeks with small bites, nibbling at my ear, while driving my lower half wild with his expert fingers. Lady Orgasm began crawling towards me with long-nailed fingers, but I didn’t want her to. I wanted this to go on forever. Lovello was the guy. His touch was the touch. His kiss was the kiss. Please, Lady Orgasm, don’t end this yet.

  “Lift, beauts,” Lovello whispered, pulling his fingers from me.

  Bracing my hands on the countertop, I lifted my hips so he could pull my boy-shorts off. His slate-grays blazed with concupiscence as they wandered over my nude body. His thick, venous manhood was arrowed directly at my center. Big and frightening, but downright beautiful.

  Lovello gave a frustrated grunt. “Beauts, I want inside you this instant, but my records are in the car.”

  Tightening my legs around his waist, I jerked him forward so that his shaft was nudging at my entrance. Hell, I was quivering. “Do I look like I give a shit? Make the grand entrance, Pretty Boy, before I freakin’ explode!”

  Lovello bit down on his lip to smother a smile, then made a circle of his hips so that his head teased my entrance, causing me to release a miserable moan. Again he did it, not entering but teasing, his eyes illuminated with mischievousness. The man simply enjoyed making me miserable. Again and again, he circled and circled, teasing me into frustration. Just when I was about to yell something nasty at him, he sent himself home.

  Hard.

  All. The.Way. Home.

  “Jesús Cristo!” I cried out, so loud that I heard Timo rushing down the hall, barking in anger. He ran into the kitchen before Lovello could move again, and began baring his teeth at my lover. This was so damn awkward, my dog watching me butt-naked and squirming with Lovello buried deep inside me.

  “Timo, go,” I said. But Timo rushed to bite Lovello’s ankle and he narrowed his eyes.

  “If you bite me again, you little piece of shit, I’ll bury you alive,” Lovello gritted out, frustrated that our pleasure time was being disrupted.

  Timo cowered back, but was still baring his teeth.

  “Out, Timo. Now!” I yelled. He whimpered, then backed out of the kitchen.

  “Sonuvabitch bit me this morning,” Lovello said grumpily. “Now where were we? … oh, yeah, right here.” He flexed his hips inward and I mewled instead of defending my dog.

  His big, powerful size filled me to capacity and I knew I was in for a turbulent, womb-rocking morning, because this time he was in control. And he was making sure I felt all of him.

  He reared back then lunged forward, knocking another cry from me. Oh God, this was going to be a bumpy ride to Orgasm Land. I lay back on the counter and gripped the edges, bracing myself for the ride that was to start right … about … now. And he was off, hard but steady, painful but pleasurable. The man was on a mission and he was dragging me there with him. As he pounded on and on, breathing incoherent mumblings, beads of sweat sprouted on his forehead and his chest. “You’re … you’re incredibly … tight. Shit, I can’t slow down.”

  Thirteen months of no sex will do that to a gal. Along with daily repetitions of kegels.

  The man felt so darn good moving inside me, I felt like I was in my own nirvana riding on the clouds. I wished he would never slow down, I wished he would never stop, because this was unbelievably good. Him possessing my body wholly and completely just felt right.

  Abruptly, he stopped and pulled out. “Sit up, beauts.”

  That I did.

  He grasped my legs and bent them so that they rested firmly on the edge of the counter, then pushed them wide apart. So there I was, sitting wide and open in front of him, panting, while he gazed at me with dark, tempestuous eyes.

  “Hold onto my shoulders,” he husked.

  When I did, he nudged his head at my entrance. “Once I’m inside your tightness, Axia, I can’t seem to control myself. So this might be hard and fast. I’ll try to go slow, though, okay?”

  Harder than before? Swallowing, I nodded.

  “Ready?”

  “I’m a big girl, Pretty Boy.” But big enough to manage a big boy? We’ll see …

  Lovello gave a sigh that said ‘oh well’ and pushed inside me. Not hard, just steady. Slow and firm, as if trying hard to control himself. He pulled back, then steadily pushed forward again. By the third go, he gave a frustrated growl. “Christ! This is what I’m talking about. You and … oh shit…” And with that, he began pounding like a stallion. Hard, fierce, hungry. “I lose all sense of control with you, Axia. You’re too damn sweet.”

  Ditto.

  My fingers dug into his flesh as Lady Orgasm fluttered her wings over my head. My veins swelling, my throat drying, my fingertips tingling as the woman of pleasure slowly descended. “Don’t stop, Love. Oh my God, I’m so close!”

  “Couldn’t … even if … wanted to,” he chewed out through harsh, laboring breaths.

  And then Lady Orgasm attacked me, sinking her wretched claws into me, gripping me and milking every bit of worked-up pleasure from me. My body convulsing, my inner muscles clenching as I shattered around my lover.

  A pleasure-ridden Lov
ello dropped his head and sank his teeth into my shoulder, biting into my flesh. He made one final, powerful thrust and stilled, his wide frame jerking as he made muffled, incomprehensible sounds around my flesh that was trapped between his teeth.

  Beyond the point of enervation, I tumbled back onto the kitchen counter, taking Lovello with me.

  When my lungs were oxygenated, I trained my eyes up at the ceiling, grinning like a teenager who’d just lost her virginity to the boy of her dreams. Actually, I felt like one. “You’re a stallion.”

  Lovello’s shoulders shook as he chuckled. “Only because you feel so good.” Bracing up on his forearms, he kissed the tip of my nose and began fluttering kisses across my face. “I think I like you…”

  He straightened and pulled my tired body up into a sitting position. My head lolled and dropped on his chest as I emitted a sigh of contentment.

  “I need to borrow your phone to call Rosa, my housekeeper, and have her bring some clothes over for me.”

  “Hooray. You looked like Barney in that robe.”

  “It’s very comfy, actually.” He picked up the robe and shrugged it on in an exaggerated fashion as if he were showcasing an expensive leather jacket in a fashion show, then brought his hands to his hips in a pose and pouted. “How do you like me now?”

  His ridiculousness had me giggling. “You still look like Barney. There’s no way to ‘sexy up’ that robe.”

  He took off the robe, rolled it in a ball and tossed it at my laughing face. Pulling me down from the counter in my fit of giggles, he wrapped my arms around his waist and walked us out of the kitchen and into the family room. “You couldn’t possibly have had many friends in high school or college. You’re seriously mean.”

  “For your information, I was popular in college, thank you very much.” But only because I was Zane’s girlfriend. And because my surname’s printed on guns. I eyed Timo in the corner of the room who was curled around his bone-shaped cushion, watching us with lazy eyes. I felt guilty for neglecting him all morning for a new man.

  “Must’ve been a really small college in a really small town,” he joked, sprawling us down on the sofa. He reached for my cordless phone from the coffee table and began punching in numbers. “Need to get Rosa to pack a coffee-maker, too,” he mused. “OJ won’t work for me in the morning. I need caffeine to get kicking.”

  “In the morning?”

  He lifted the phone to his ear and gave me a daring stare. “Yeah. I’m staying here till tomorrow. Got a problem with that, too?”

  Staying? The man didn’t even ask me. He was telling me he was staying. Just like that, he barged into my home, strutting around with easy comfort as if he’d lived here all his life, using my stuff without permission and now he was telling me that he was staying. Before I could answer, he started talking down the phone to Rosa, instructing her on all that she should pack. When he ended the call, he looked at me expectantly with a raised eyebrow.

  “No. I don’t. But, my mother’s flying in today. I promised to prepare her favorite dish, so she’ll be coming over for dinner tonight. Are you a ‘meet the mother’ type of person?” The question sounded stupid the second it left my lips. It was just last week that the man was in my father’s house trying to woo me in front of him.

  “You have to try harder than that to get rid of me, Axia. I’d love to meet your mother.”

  I tried another tactic. “I’m one hundred percent sure you won’t like what I’m making for dinner. And I’m not making two separate meals.”

  “What’re you making?”

  “Bandeja Paisa.”

  The corners of his mouth wobbled as he struggled to keep a straight face. “And what does that consist of?”

  “Well, poached eggs — which you stated you didn’t like earlier — steak, beans, rice, sausage, plantains, pork trotter, avocado…”

  Unable to maintain a straight face any further, he broke into a grin. “That’s a lot of shit on one plate.” Lowering his body further down into the sofa, he shifted so I was straddling him. “And it also sounds like it’s gonna take a lot of time to prepare. So…” He thrust his hips upward so I could feel his arousal, live and hoisted. “ … I suppose I better have my way with you now before you run off to play Julia Child in the kitchen.”

  While his hands came up to twist my nipples between his fingers, he continued to thrust his hips upwards so that his shaft glided against my folds, sending me into tailspin. Loving the friction and the rain of pleasure that was showering down on me, I tossed my head back and began moving against his hardness. Hell, just like that he had me starving for more of him.

  Lovello’s voice came hoarse and thick with desire, “Whenever you’re ready, beauts. I’m all yours.”

  Just mine. And I was beyond ready. Leaning forward and pressing my palms on his firm chest, I raised my hips and slowly took what was all mine …

  XIII

  I emerged from my bedroom around fifteen past six in the evening, freshly showered and dressed for dinner. My mother had called to notify me she’d be there around six thirty, and was beyond shocked when I told her that Lovello would be joining us. Shocked because I never told her I was seeing anyone, which made her over-curious. My mother, like my father, held the belief that I was never going to ‘move on’ from Zane. It was irritating the way they made all those comments about me being stuck on Zane, for the sole fact that they’d never seen me dating anyone else. I wasn’t stuck on anyone. I just didn’t date. It’s that simple. It had nothing to do with Zane — well, actually, it did. He was the one who’d turned me into an anomalous chick who preferred swinging whips in a dungeon to eating steaks in a fancy restaurant or snuggling up on a sofa listening to the beat of a lover’s heart.

  I’d finished preparing dinner, but had left frying the plantains for last. I fluffed my ponytail as I sallied to the kitchen, casting a glance over to the family room where Lovello was sprawled on the sofa, engrossed in a program on CNBC called ‘How I Made My Millions’ while nipping on Twizzlers. Timo was curled in a ball on the other end, baring his teeth in hatred at an oblivious Lovello, making it clear that he didn’t like it that this man had been getting all my attention. The fact that he kept his distance, nonetheless, meant he feared Lovello. He must’ve retaliated in some scary way when Timo bit him. Needed to remember to ask him about that.

  I shook my head at the grown ass man nibbling on Twizzlers like a six–year-old. What on earth did he find enjoyable in that unpalatable nursery crap? Rosa had arrived with his stuff a few hours ago, and he’d immediately attacked the duffel bag to retrieve the Twizzlers and Fruit Roll-Ups. Fruit Roll-Ups! Like, how old was this guy?

  Once he’d gotten his candy from the bag, he contentedly traipsed out of the kitchen chewing on his Twizzlers like it was nobody’s business, leaving the contents of the bag scattered across the kitchen island. As I’d carried off his stuff to my room and began packing them in places where he could easily locate them, I’d come to the realization that Lovello was a man who liked it when people took care of him. He was untidy and didn’t care to clean up after himself, and that characteristic was the antithesis of me.

  I’m super organized and absolutely detest a messy place. It was another reminder that trying to work us into anything more than sex partners was an unrealistic goal. Not a chance on earth would this work. I’d go ballistic if I had to deal with this every day. Fortunately, he was only staying one night.

  Lovello’s cellphone rang just as I was laying sliced plantains down in a skillet. He muted the television and put the phone on speaker so I could hear the conversation. He’d been answering his calls on speaker all day, and I deduced he was doing it on purpose because of my silly accusation this morning. It really wasn’t necessary because I really didn’t care. Did I?

  “Love, where the hell are you, man? Just went by your place only to find your ass ain’t there,” came a melodic male voice.

  “By Axia’s,” Lovello answered simply.

 
“Huh? Who the hell is Axia?”

  “My … uh, lady. Maybe.”

  The disembodied voice released a great laugh. “You’re shitting me, right? Since when did you give a shit about having a lady? The fuck is this? And you’re at her place?”

  “What do you want, Trev?” Lovello shot in a perturbed tone.

  “Kadina’s been bugging my ass about you, man. She keeps blocking my cock whenever I try to get through to her aunt. Some shit ‘bout you being a liar and an asshole. Don’t know what the fuck you did to that dumb bitch, but I wanted you to come with me to Sass tonight, hoping you’d shove your cock in the bitch’s mouth and shut her up so she can keep the hell outta my fucking way. But now I’m curious. Where does your lady live? I’ve got to see this shit.”

  Lovello peeped his head over the edge of the sofa, sought for me in the kitchen with his eyes, checking for my expression no doubt, and then answered, “Crissida Cove.”

  The foul-mouthed voice, which I now learned was of his brother, Trevillo, coughed. “My Crissida Cove?”

  “Is there another?”

  “Ah, now I see why she’s your lady. She’s older, isn’t she? She’s got to be if she can afford one of my fucked-over priced houses at Crissida Cove. Told you older women are the shit, man. Now I really need to meet her. I’m coming over.”

  Older woman!

  “Her mother’s coming over for dinner, Trev. Hold on, lemme check if it’s okay with her first.”

  Lovello peeped over at me again with a brow raised in question and I shrugged. My mother loved company more than anyone I knew, so it was unlikely that she would have a problem with it.

  “Green light.”

  “Great. There better be enough food for me ‘cause I’m fucking starving.”

  Lovello ended the call and tossed his phone on the coffee table, then got up and padded over to me with his sexy male model gait. In faded blue jeans that were flapped open at the waist revealing a small peek of dark hair, a black, close-fitting Polo shirt, and with his messy hair sticking every which way, he looked like walking sex. He was the definition of everything male; everything dreamy, steamy, heart-meltingly male. Damn. He owned ninety percent of the population of women in this world and didn’t even know it. How? Because there aren’t a lot of women out there who’re strong enough to look upon this man and resist him. If I couldn’t resist him … point made. Just one look, and you’re owned.