Billionaire Games

by Maddox, Sylvia

  When he’d opened the door, he’d known she was gone. The air was still, the place the empty mausoleum it had been before she had arrived. For a moment, he’d tried to convince himself she was on the balcony, maybe in the bathroom, but one step across the threshold, and he’d known she wasn’t there.

  His heart had twisted in his chest, the pain swift and intense until he pushed it away, hating himself for allowing her to do this to him again.

  It reminded him of those dark days from the past, in the immediate aftermath of what she’d done to him.

  He could still see it now, so vividly recall the expression on her face when he’d told her it was time for him to move on. Had seen the crushing disappointment there, the disbelief.

  But here, in this luxury penthouse, one that he had finally admitted to himself that he’d bought just because he knew she would like the view, he wasn’t thinking about that.

  Instead he remembered those days immediately after, when he’d gone back to his own shitty apartment, even more shitty than hers had been, when the force of what he had done and the impact of it had hit him full force.

  He’d never let her come to that apartment, not wanting her to see that side of him, half of him fearing that she’d come to her senses and leave him, the other half ashamed of where he’d come from, of how little he had to offer. But as he’d lain there in that shithole, he’d felt the most crushing loneliness and emptiness, things that had been his companions until Claire had chased it away.

  He’d felt it when he’d walked into the penthouse too, that same crushing, lonely emptiness, and it was only then that he’d realized how long he’d carried that feeling with him. From that day nine years ago until the moment he’d laid eyes on her, he’d been empty, not even halfway alive. His fortune, his power, nothing had ever taken that feeling away.

  And somehow, despite his best intentions, the way he tried to constantly steel himself against her, he’d known when he found the apartment empty, felt his stomach drop, that she was the only thing that could take it away. He was still tied to her, in tune with her, and as he’d stood, his heart twisting, he’d realized that she had the power to crush him.

  That had angered him more deeply than anything else. He’d done this for his own reasons, ones that didn’t involve happiness, either his or Claire’s, and the reminder of how he felt with her and without her and the anger that his awareness created pushed him into action.

  Alan wasn’t working today, so he’d had to use his second driver for the journey. As they’d wound through the streets, stopping at places Simeon remembered she liked and those that most seemed like ones she would prefer, he’d also acknowledged the not-insignificant amount of fear that was also driving him, especially as the hours ticked by.

  Claire was alone, practically helpless, with no resources. He didn’t even know if she had a fucking phone. That thought had fed his anger, driving Simeon to the edge. He’d spotted the flash of gold, and his heart had leaped into his throat. He recognized the color, and when he saw the dress pooling behind her and then and the slight shift of hips he’d been dreaming about for nearly a decade, he’d known it was her.

  He recognized the dress and had picked it specifically because he’d known it would fit her body perfectly. What he hadn’t intended was for her to wear it outside to be seen by wandering eyes. With every step she took, Simeon watched as the men around her reacted, their greedy eyes touching her body. Not that she seemed to notice. No, she was completely fucking oblivious, in her own fucking world like always.

  His rage jumped impossibly higher, most of it directed at himself for again being sucked in by her, at his weakness to resist her, at the fact that he fucking cared so much he’d been near madness with worry and she didn’t have a care at all.

  The SUV rolled over a pothole, and she sighed quietly, but the sound was enough to pierce the haze of thoughts he’d found himself mired in. After a moment’s pause, he looked at her finally, his cock hardening as he again saw the way the dress draped and caressed her body.

  Claire didn’t return his stare. That was uncommon for her. She’d always gone toe to toe with him, but now, she had her arms crossed under her breasts and her head was turned away.

  Maybe she’d realized how fucking stupid leaving like that, dressed like that, had been. Maybe she felt guilt for it.

  Simeon peered at her closer, taking in every millimeter of her face. He could tell she knew he watched her, but she still didn’t look up. And not because she was worried or guilty or remorseful.

  She was mad.

  He could see that anger from the slight blush in her cheeks, and the way she wouldn’t quite meet his eyes, not to mention that particularly stubborn tilt of her head, the one she’d used to convey that a particular subject was no longer up for discussion.

  She was wrong about that. They’d definitely be discussing her behavior, but seeing her anger helped break some of the tension that gathered in his shoulders.

  Her anger shouldn’t have made him as happy as it did, but he was pleased. An angry Claire was a spirited Claire, and Simeon was in the mood to spar.

  17

  Before the car had rolled to a stop, Claire opened the door and got out. She moved quickly, her undeniable annoyance pushing her, but not nearly as fast as his pushed him.

  “What the hel—”

  She cut off short when Simeon lifted her.

  One of her heels clattered to the ground, but Simeon ignored it just like he ignored the way she glared at him.

  She could glare all she wanted.

  “Simeon. This is ridiculous. Put me down!” she snapped.

  He pierced her with his stare, not bothering to try to mask his anger.

  “Don’t stare at me like that,” she said, again tilting her head in that same stubborn way.

  Simeon said nothing and instead punched the button and held her, waiting as the elevator rose to the penthouse. During the entire ride she glared at him as he glared right back at her, and with each moment his rage intensified.

  What had she been thinking, going out like that? Why hadn’t she been there?

  All questions he’d ask once he had calmed his rage enough to regain the ability to speak.

  He swept into the penthouse, settling most of her weight in one arm as he opened the door and then kicking it closed behind him. As he marched toward the bedroom, it hit him how much better the place felt with her in it.

  That realization did nothing to calm the burning embers of rage inside him.

  “Simeon, you’re being an ass—”

  She was cut off again as he deposited her in the middle of the bed.

  “Simeon—”

  “Turn over,” he said.

  Claire rose up on her elbows and glared at him as she shaped her lips to utter her reply.

  “Now.”

  He added the word in a harsh growl, and after another pointed stare, she flipped over and lay facedown, her delectable ass in the air. Simeon reached out and plucked her remaining shoe off her foot and let his fingers linger on her ankle.

  “On your knees,” he said.

  Even though he could feel the rage rolling off her, she went up.

  Simeon watched her for a moment and then began to move. With deliberation he hadn’t thought himself capable of, he pulled the long skirt up her full thighs and over the curve of her bottom.

  She wore the panties he’d sent, and the darker gold was beautiful against her skin, perfection just as he’d known it would be. He smoothed his hands over her ass and then he reached into her waistband and pulled her panties down, satisfaction filling him as he felt her tremble.

  For a moment he cradled her ass cheeks, trying to decide whether he should turn the pretty pink of her skin deep red with his palms.

  Instead, he slipped her hand between her thighs and touched her soaking-wet sex.

  So it wasn’t only anger he had seen in the back of his SUV.

  “Is this what you’d hoped for?” he aske
d.

  As he spoke he slipped a finger between her wet folds and stroked it inside her. She didn’t answer, and he didn’t repeat his question. Instead he continued to push his finger in and out of her in the way that he knew she would find frustratingly maddening.

  “What? Was what my plan?” she asked, looking over her shoulder at him. Her sapphire eyes were heavy with her arousal, but Simeon would not let himself be sucked in.

  “Eyes forward,” he said, pinching her clit to emphasis his point.

  Her face twisted with pleasure, but then she met his eyes.

  He stopped moving, and only after she had turned did he continue.

  “You left. You weren’t here waiting like you were supposed to be. Did you hope I would do this? Find you and punish you for not being here?” he asked, adding a second finger to the first.

  He heard what he thought was a moan, but she quickly swallowed it. “I just left. I needed to get out. You understand that?”

  Claire’s voice got a little deeper, a little more breathy with each of the words, and by the time she finished the sentence she was moaning.

  He did understand, but that didn’t mean that he accepted it. He’d told her to be here waiting, and she hadn’t been.

  And she’d made him worry, something he’d never admit, but something that he couldn’t deny he’d felt.

  Yeah, it wasn’t fair, but it was unfair to have him waiting, making worry, make it impossible for him not to care.

  He kept his fingers working inside of her and clumsily unbuttoned his pants, moving without his usual finesse or grace.

  When they dropped, his cock emerged, hard, ready, and as quickly as he could, he removed his fingers and replaced them with his dick, pulling her hips back as he thrust forward and brought them together completely in one motion.

  Her breath fell out in a hard swoosh, and she arched her back against him, her pussy, so tight, so perfect around him. Simeon started thrusting, hard, wildly, the lewd smack of their bodies and their breaths the only sounds in the room.

  How could she still do this to him even though he knew what she was, what she was capable of? He pounded harder, centering a hand at the middle of her back and pushing down until she lowered her head completely.

  He couldn’t care.

  This was just sex.

  Only sex.

  All that mattered was that she wasn’t where she was supposed to be, not that she could’ve been hurt and lost to him.

  Could have been gone.

  No, that didn’t matter. All that mattered was that she hadn’t been where she was supposed to be. He thrust harder. Yes, she was here now. He felt her under his hands, around his cock, deep inside his skin.

  That was enough to send him over the edge and he thrust inside her one final time and then filled her with his cum.

  18

  Claire had been embarrassed that Simeon could make her come so easily, especially when she was pissed.

  And she was pissed. Beyond pissed. Her rage was so acute it nearly choked her.

  All good feelings that he had stirred in those intense moments as he had taken her gave way, leaving a tingling throughout her, but the feeling little in the face of her other emotions.

  She turned over and sat on her butt. Some of his seed slipped from her and she clenched her thighs. She gave it no attention, though, and instead watched him as he returned his softening cock to his pants and then zipped them. He turned then as if to leave, and Claire stood, again ignoring the evidence of their lovemaking on her body.

  “So that’s it? You just going to fuck to me like that and then leave?”

  He stopped and turned toward her, his expression thunderous. “Don’t talk like that, Claire.”

  “You don’t get to tell me how to talk. And besides, I thought you liked that, liked it when I talked dirty.”

  She knew that he did, remembered well how much. But apparently not when she used those words to call him on his behavior. She didn’t care. Frankly, she was sick of it. He was punishing her for some imagined sin, but that didn’t mean she had to deal with his bullshit.

  “You don’t get to do that, Simeon. Use me like that,” she said.

  He smiled, the expression completely devoid of humor. “That’s exactly what I get to do. Don’t you remember the details of our arrangement?” he said.

  “Oh, I remember. Very well. But there’s nowhere in it that says you can use me like that and then toss me aside.”

  “Yes, it does, Claire. I get to use you and toss you aside,” he said as he buttoned his suit jacket. Claire watched him, trying to place the peculiar tone she heard in his voice. She didn’t know what it meant, but she didn’t have time to consider it further because Simeon began to walk away.

  She rushed as quickly as she could and stood in front of him. Despite herself, she was impressed by his hulking chest and the way his insanely expensive jacket pulled tight across the broad expanse of his shoulders. When she met his eyes, she ignored that she wanted to kiss him, touch him again, and instead focused on his words.

  “That’s where you’re wrong. Perhaps there was some misunderstanding, but you will treat me respectfully. And you will not tell me what to do and where to go and where to go,” she said.

  “Yeah. I will,” he replied casually.

  “No, you won’t. I know the power that you have over me, but whatever you might think of me, I have my dignity. And I will not take this treatment from you. So if you can’t accept that, then I’ll go ahead and leave. Because I won’t do that again, Simeon.”

  His lips were pressed into a thin line, his nostrils flaring with the power of his breath.

  “You weren’t here,” he finally said.

  She gaped at him, momentarily confused by what he said. Then, suddenly, an understanding hit her.

  “You were worried?” she said.

  She watched him for any hint of reaction, and she didn’t see one. But she didn’t need to.

  “No. But you’ve violated the terms of our arrangement already. I told you to be here. Ready for me. You weren’t.”

  His words were dismissive, but Claire saw through them. He had been worried, and despite herself, despite him, she was warmed by that. He was nowhere near the Simeon she had known, but he cared.

  “I’m not going to just sit around here lonely, waiting for you to show up, but I’ll try to be here, okay?” she said, deciding that the middle ground, some concession on her part, would be welcome.

  “Good. Make sure it doesn’t happen again,” he said.

  He adjusted his tie then and looked at her.

  “Thank you,” she said a moment later.

  He looked at her, confused.

  “For the dress,” she said.

  He adjusted his tie again, even though he’d just done so seconds ago, and she knew they had reached as close to a consensus as she could expect.

  “You’re leaving?” she asked incredulously a moment later when he headed toward the door, surprised that he was leaving after they had reached what she’d thought was some sort of understanding.

  “I’ll be back in two hours,” he tossed over his shoulder. “Be ready for me.”

  19

  True to his word, Simeon was back in under two hours. An hour and forty-five minutes, to be exact. Claire had showered and changed into a skirt and blouse, her mind and body ready for him, more than ready for him.

  When she heard the door open, she turned and watched him as he entered. He belly tightened at the sight of him. The suit was gone, and now he wore dark jeans and tight, worn T-shirt that she thought she recognized from nine years ago. His jaw was rough, and his water-darkened hair was messy.

  He didn’t look like the Simeon of old. He was bigger, but more than that, he seemed more controlled. He was also utterly distracting. The power and strength he exuded in his suits were undeniable, but they burned just as bright without them. The clothes did not make this man, and as he strode toward her, his powerfully muscled arms hangi
ng loose at his sides, Claire was overcome with desire that made her breath freeze in her lungs.

  When he stopped next to her, he leaned against the wall and watched her for a moment. She still couldn’t read him, had no real insight into the thoughts that she knew were spinning in his head, but if nothing else, she knew he wanted her. A little smile curved his lips, and Claire moved toward him, allowing her expression to mirror his.

  “Dressed down this evening?” she said when she stopped in front of him, close enough that her breasts were touching his chest.

  “Yeah,” he said, and the deep rumble of his voice flowed through her and centered low in her belly. Without thought, she lifted her hands to his chest and curled her fingers against the hard muscles there.

  His heart thudded strong and true against his breastbone, and she let her hand lie there for a moment before dropping it lower, down his hard abs to the edge of his pants. She lifted her eyes to his, and then smiled brighter as she dropped her hand lower to cup his hardening cock.

  “I’m ready for you,” she whispered, punctuating the words with a little squeeze.

  His eyes darkened and he swallowed. She watched his throat work, then let her gaze linger on his strong neck. After a moment, she lifted up and brushed her lips against his hot, smooth skin, the beginnings of the beard there pricking her lips and creating the most amazing sensation, one that centered at her sex, making it clench tight.

  Simeon met her eyes again and then grabbed her hand and laced his fingers between hers. “Good,” he whispered. “Let’s go.”

  Claire tilted her head, surprised as Simeon pulled her toward the front door. She followed behind him, curious as to where they were going. But as they got on the elevator she stayed silent, enjoying the feel of his strong hand against hers and the way he stared down at her, intense as always but softer somehow.