by Abbott, Alex
It was nice. Nicer even than Brooke had expected it to be. Now that she had decided to enjoy herself and see where this went, she felt as if a heavy weight had been lifted from her. It was the first time she felt like she could genuinely open up to him. It felt right. It felt even better when they made it back to the hotel room. She was eager to have sex with him, not just because she had gotten so accustomed to having a lot of sex, but also because now that she was actually committed to this, she had the feeling it was going to be even better. He also seemed to sense that there had been a shift in their relationship, because as soon as they were in the room he closed the door behind them and turned to her.
“I want to try something different this time,” he said, and she knew she was in for something special.
“Something different like what?” She was both excited and nervous.
She had done a lot of things with him over the course of this trip that she had never imagined herself doing: different positions, different things, even some roleplaying (aside from the role she had been playing with him up until that morning of course). Though she would not consider herself to be sexually ignorant, she really couldn’t imagine what “different” thing he could want to try.
“Well, I’ll give you a hint: it involves our safe word.”
Brooke could feel her heart beating a little faster. After those first couple of nights when the two of them had starting getting a little bit more adventurous, they had decided on a safe word. Brooke had so far been up for everything that he had suggested, and the word had almost been completely forgotten. “Uh, all right” she said as she followed him into the bedroom.
“Go ahead and strip,” he told her as he opened up one of the drawers in the dresser. A shudder ran through her body as she obeyed. Though she would never admit it, she really liked it when he told her what to do in the bedroom. “Now get on the bed,” he ordered, not harshly, but in a domineering tone that was enough to make her wet. She climbed up onto the bed facing him.
When he turned back to her, he held two shiny pairs of handcuffs dangling in his hand. She looked at them apprehensively. “That’s the new thing you want to try?”
“If you’re up for it.”
Brooke honestly had never thought of herself as the kind of person who would be into that sort of thing; bondage had never held any appeal to her. She honestly didn’t see what the appeal was in being handcuffed. “It’s not like a pain thing, right?”
He laughed. “It’s nothing like that. I don’t want to hurt you, Brooke, not ever. Do you trust me?”
She chewed on her lip nervously as she looked at the handcuffs. If he had asked her that question even a day or two ago, her answer might have been very different, but she found that she did actually trust him. She held her arms out in front of her. He shook his head and gently pushed her back onto the mattress. He guided her hands up so that they were spread out above her head. She could hear the sound of the metal cuffs hitting the bedframe, though she couldn’t actually see what he was doing.
Then, he gently closed a cuff around her left wrist. She hadn’t expected to feel anything when he did so, but a surge of an emotion somewhere between panic and excitement moved through her. He then closed a cuff around her right wrist, and it was as if the feeling magnified. He lifted her gently and repositioned her so that her arms were now completely outstretched. Instinctively, she tried to pull away just to find that she was really and truly stuck. The feeling sent tingles up and down her spine.
He watched her for a minute, smiling down at her. “Are you okay?” he asked, softly.
She nodded. “It’s sort of a weird feeling.”
“A weird feeling that you like?” She was about to deny feeling strongly either way, but when Tom ran a finger up her thigh and over her wet slit, she knew there was not much point in saying that she wasn’t enjoying herself.
“Yeah, I guess I like it.”
“Good,” he said, “because I like seeing you like this.”
She blushed, feeling embarrassed. She knew that she could use her safe word, and, of course, she was in no real danger, but just the feeling of being helpless and no longer in control was oddly erotic. He ran his hands over her body, up over her hips and her sides before finally landing on her breasts. He fondled them softly, his thumbs running circles around her nipples until they grew hard. He pinched them lightly, eliciting a gasp of pleasure from Brooke, who was undoubtedly loving the attention.
He teased her for what seemed like hours, but she didn’t want it to end. She was dripping wet with anticipation by the time he finally placed his hands on her inner thighs and pushed her legs open. He leaned over her, using one hand to pull her pelvis up before thrusting into her deeply.
She couldn’t even describe the feelings coursing through her. Losing control was normally something that she would consider horrible, but she liked having him in control like this. It felt better than she ever could have imagined, and as he worked himself in and out of her she felt as though she was about to explode. They finished nearly simultaneously. He pulled out and kissed her stomach gently before undoing her handcuffs.
“I’m gonna go get a shower, okay? I’ve got that meeting to go to.”
She nodded.
“Want to join me?”
“No thanks,” she answered softly. Normally she would have joined him in the shower, hoping for a second round, but she decided to curl up in the covers, feeling immensely satisfied. She had read about some girls who were into that sort of thing, but it had never appealed to her. She couldn’t believe how much more exciting sex could be with just a pair of handcuffs. The more prudish side of her was disappointed that she had liked it, but she had the feeling it would be something she’d be willing to try again.
She cuddled up in the comforter, though it was not particularly cold, and listened to the sound of her boyfriend in the shower. She smiled at the fact she was now able to refer to him as her boyfriend without even the slightest hint of disgust. She had decided that he really must have meant everything he had said to her over the last two weeks. No one, not even Tom, could fake having a relationship this good or caring about someone so much.
She was just about to drift off into a pleasant nap when she felt something buzz next to her. Assuming it was her phone she reached for it and realized that it was Tom’s phone. He must have tossed it onto the bed before getting into the shower. She was about to set it down, when the message on the screen caught her eye.
Here. Meet me at the café without your gf.
***
Brooke’s heart fell as she read the message, trying to process what it could mean. She heard the shower turn off. She cursed herself mentally for being so stupid and set the phone down, trying to place it back on the mattress exactly where she had found it. She closed her eyes as Tom exited the bathroom, pretending to be asleep even though her mind was more awake than ever. She wished that she’d had time to go snooping in his phone to find out who it was that had texted him, and who he was meeting up with that didn’t want her there.
She wanted to cry. She had known better, she’d had a plan. And yet again she had let herself be fooled by him. He was too attractive, and he said all the right things, and she had fallen for it yet again, while he was undoubtedly seeing another woman behind her back. She listened to the sounds of him getting dressed and ready to leave while she tried to talk herself down. It was possible that it was someone from work. It was weird that they’d specify she not be there, but maybe she was reading more into it than she needed to be.
Brooke thought about the situation carefully, weighing her options. She finally decided that she would follow him. She’d tail him to the meeting, and if he met up with anyone who wasn’t obviously a work acquaintance, then she’d confront him about it, and that would be that. If it was just a colleague, then she decided she’d return to the hotel room, order herself a bottle of wine, and laugh about the whole thing.
She had just decided this when she felt
him place a gentle kiss on the top of her head. The gesture just seemed too sweet for someone who was cheating on her, but she knew she’d never forgive herself if she didn’t check it out. She waited until she heard the door close before she leapt into action.
She got dressed, made sure her phone was on silent and then followed him out the door. She took the stairs, figuring that the more of a head start he had, the lower her risk was of getting caught. She wasn’t too concerned about losing him as she thought she had a pretty good idea of where he was going. It was possible, of course, that the mystery texter had meant a different café, but there was one not horribly far from the hotel, and she had a feeling that was it. Sure enough, by the time she made it to the lobby of the hotel, she could see the limo headed off in that direction.
She realized that she had really not thought this through. She didn’t have a car. She knew she could probably call one, but she definitely didn’t want to risk Tom finding out she had been following him. She decided it would be best for her to walk there. It would take longer, but it lowered her chances of being found out considerably, not to mention that if she was caught, she could use jogging as an excuse for why she was out of the room.
It took her about half an hour to get there, and she just about had herself talked into going back to the hotel by the time she arrived at the café. As soon as she got there, however, her heart dropped once again. Even through the window she could see him in his stupid suit, sitting with a woman. The woman’s back was to Brooke, but from the halter top she was wearing, Brooke could tell that she was definitely not a businesswoman. She wanted to go in there and rip her stupid blonde ponytail right off.
She ducked behind a palm tree to watch while the two talked. Rage continued to boil within her, and it didn’t even occur to her until the two were standing up to leave that she should have gone back to the hotel room straight away. Watching wouldn’t do her any good, and if they saw her while they were coming out, it could blow her cover. She was panicking, trying to figure out what to do when the woman turned around and Brooke got a look at her face for the first time.
It was Sara.
END
***
Please enjoy the last book in the series:
Billionaire Romance: Games #3
About Bella Grant:
Bella Grant is a romance writer with a love for billionaire themes. Why billionaire themes? Why not? A girl can only fantasize about life getting insanely comfortable, right? Nothing wrong with dreams. You can only achieve what you dare to dream! Please find my other romance series at http://amzn.to/18sIzQR
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AMAZON
***
The Billionaire’s Valiant Rescue
(Previously titled Heaven Sent)
By Nic Saint
Chapter 1
“Paris. I need to go to Paris.”
My teeth were chattering as I clung to my savior, muttering these words like some broken record.
He looked at me blankly and I didn’t blame him. If I’d just pulled a total stranger from the river and she kept rambling on about Paris, I’d have directed a similar look at her myself.
“Just... lie back,” my valiant knight in shining armor said. “The ambulance will be here in just a minute.”
My eyes fluttered closed, then, but not before catching a glimpse of the man’s comforting half-smile and his azure eyes. They were the clearest blue, and for a moment I felt as if I were drowning yet again, only this time the sensation was exhilarating and not half as scary as when my body had broken the murky surface of the river.
“That’s it,” he murmured, rocking me gently in his lap. “Just relax. Everything’s fine now. Everything’s perfectly fine.”
When my eyes flashed open again, I gasped in shock. I was surrounded by darkness, and the man with the blue eyes was nowhere to be found. The faintest hint of a dream lingered at the edge of consciousness. Paris again.
“Where am I?” I whispered to no one in particular. “Where...”
Fighting a wave of nausea, I struggled to focus on my surroundings. Then it hit me. The smell of disinfectant. The white-washed walls. The exceedingly starched sheets. I was in the hospital.
I shifted my head to take in the rest of the room. I was alone, the other bed unoccupied, and through the curtainless windows I could see the full moon casting its pale light upon the world. I reached over to my nightstand in search of my valuables and was relieved when my hand touched my cell. My whole life was in that tiny piece of high-tech, and perhaps even a clue to who I was and what the hell I was doing here.
As consciousness returned, a million questions buzzed through my aching brain. Who was I? Where was I? And why the hell had my life suddenly taken a turn for the highly dramatic and ended up in an icy cold river?
For if there was one thing I knew, it was that this was so not me. I wasn’t a jumper, and even if I were, death by drowning would be the last thing I’d choose.
Suddenly the door to my room burst open, and an older woman stormed in. Her teary face broke into a relieved smile when she saw that I was awake.
“Melanie! Honey!” she cried, arms outstretched to bundle me up into an embrace. “I’m so glad you’re all right!”
Melanie? Really? Was that my name?
“Um, hi?” I said as my visitor slung her arms around me and pulled me into the vise-like circle.
“Oh, honey,” she sighed. “You have no idea how worried we were.”
We? Who was we?
“When we didn’t hear from you, we finally broke down and called the police. It took them hours to track you down.”
She finally released me and sat back, studying my face from behind thick glasses.
I gave her an embarrassed smile, trying to figure out a way to break the news to her gently that I didn’t know her from Adam. Or Eve. Turned out I didn’t have to. My lack of enthusiasm must have given me away, for she suddenly heaved a sob, and said, “What’s wrong? Don’t you recognize me?”
“Um, actually… no?”
For the second time, she broke into tears, and this time I was the one feeling compelled to tell her everything was going to be all right. Though I hardly believed it myself.
***
From behind a window looking into Melanie’s room, Jack Carter stood gazing upon the tearful reunion scene with a worried frown etched on his face. For some reason he couldn’t even begin to comprehend why he felt this protective of the young woman he’d saved from a watery grave mere hours before, and the tepid way she responded to the arrival of her mother filled him with confusion.
He stared at her hollow eyes as she greeted the woman who’d introduced herself as Linda Soakes. Melanie Harper, if that was indeed her name, looked emaciated and exhausted, and yet her natural beauty still shone through. Her wispy blond hair clung in tresses to her face, and her liquid brown eyes appeared dull and deadened, but he’d seen the determination and the life in those eyes, and knew her to be a fighter.
Though he hadn’t doubted the doctor’s assessment that she’d suffered a nasty blow to the head before ending up in the canal, he still nurtured a vague hope the medical man was mistaken.
Melanie Harper hadn’t merely stumbled into the river by accident. According to the physician she’d been hit over the head before being thrown in. Or, in a different interpretation of the facts, she had suffered the debilitating blow by violently hitting her head upon impact. Whatever the case, hers was obviously a matter for the police, and only through his intervention had the cop sent down to take her statement allowed the girl’s mother to go in first.
It obviously didn’t make much difference. Either mother and daughter enjoyed a very flawed relationship, evident by an absolute lack of warmth, or, worse, she didn’t even recognize her own mom.
The police officer cleared his throa
t. “Perhaps I can take your statement now, Carter. You say you saw Miss Harper flailing in the water? So you decided she was in trouble and jumped in to rescue her?”
“That’s right,” Jack said curtly.
“Can you tell me what you were doing down there?”
Jack looked over at the swarthy man and thought he detected a glint of malice in the burly police officer’s eye. It didn’t surprise him. Ever since the incident over a decade ago, Brussels’ finest didn’t exactly hold him in high esteem.
He shrugged off the building tension.
“I was taking my dog for a walk, like I always do at night. I live around the corner, as you probably know.”
The policeman merely nodded, his eyes fixed on him. “Any witnesses? Anyone to corroborate your story, Carter?”
Jack sighed inaudibly. He’d known the moment he called the cops they’d start busting his balls. “No. I was alone on the quay.”
“All alone, huh? Just you and miss Harper.”
Suddenly he felt anger flaring up inside of him. “Look, if you don’t believe me, why don’t you ask the girl. She’ll tell you what happened.”
The police officer’s lip curled up into a grin. Like most cops he lived to get a rise out of the people he detested, and there was no one cops hated more than Jack Carter.
“Sure thing, Carter. I’ll get right on it. But first tell me, what is your relationship with Melanie Harper?”
“We had no ‘relationship’. For Christ’s sakes, I never met the woman in my life.”
The policeman pursed his lips. “So you say.”