One Wild Ride

by Elizabeth Lynx

  I shook my head confused and tried to piece together my thoughts. “But you’re a billionaire. You’re famous for being a billionaire.”

  Alex walked back over to the table and sat back in his seat, throwing the paperwork on the table. “Again, that’s my mother. She wants the world to think I am the most eligible bachelor. She likes to control people, even me, and she controls how the world sees me. I’m surprised she let you and Tiffany in here today. As far as I knew, my mother didn’t know about you.”

  “She knew who we were.” I chuckled, turning my head toward the table.

  “What?”

  “Nothing.” I shook my head and turned my attention back to him. “Alex, this may be none of my business but have you read that contract?”

  “No. I have a lawyer for that. That’s why I have to send it over to him.”

  Alex leaned forward about to get up. He placed his hand on top of the lease, hesitating when I gently laid my hand on top of his.

  “Your lawyer has seen this lease before?” I don’t mean to sound annoying asking so many questions but the more he answered them the more confused I became.

  He nodded. “Of course. There have been small revisions over the years for building upgrades to meet city code regulations, but most of it has stayed the same. He has seen this many times.”

  “It’s just . . . You know what? Never mind. I probably read something wrong. It’s been years since I eagle-eyed a contract.” I shook my head.

  That must be it. I’m sure an experienced lawyer that got paid top dollar had a better handle on this lease than I did.

  Alex paused for a second but finally stood taking the lease with him. When he got to the door he turned toward me. “Was there something in here that didn’t seem right?”

  I waved my hand at him. “I’m sure your lawyer would know more than me.”

  Instead of smiling for reassurance, I frowned. What I saw in that lease was either one hell of a typo or his lawyer needed to be fired.

  His lifted his arm against the doorframe again. The combination of his thick, corded muscle straining against his shirt and his soulful gray eyes was too much for me to resist. He didn’t have to utter a word and I broke. I tried to play it off. The last time I meddled in someone else’s financial life they disappeared.

  I swore then I would only ever worry about food, art, and hot men bringing me orgasms from that point on. Here I am with two and a half of the three satisfied.

  And yet, with almost nothing to distract me from using my awesome contract superpower, I screwed with Alex’s life. I told him something that was none of my business because sometimes I can’t seem to shut up.

  “According to that lease, your mother doesn’t own the building. You do, Alex.”

  EIGHT

  Alexander

  “Congratulations, Mr. Hawthorne, you are the proud owner of the Haute Tower at 26 East Lake Street in Chicago Illinois,” the man in the gray, oversized suit said as he sat across the conference table from me.

  I stared at him in disbelief. How did I not know this? My lawyer never said a word to me. When Aria told me last Tuesday I didn’t believe her. I mentioned wanting time to consider her sketches for the mural and told her I would call her when I was ready.

  I spent the week since making phone calls and researching what I could. Most everyone gave me the run around when I asked them about the building. I finally told my lawyer he would be fired if he didn’t tell me the truth. He repeated over and over again that he needed to see the lease to verify if anything had been changed.

  So, I faxed it to him. When he called back, he told me that nothing had changed and my mother still owned the building but he did notice a small typo that might have thrown me off. Other than that, nothing had changed.

  “Are you sure it’s not a typo?” I asked leaning forward, resting my elbows on the smooth wooden table. The windows behind the man were dark and I caught my reflection in the glass. It looked like I hadn’t slept in days. Probably because I hadn’t.

  Between my mother giving in so easily with the mural and the lease stating I owned the tower, my world felt upside down. Causing old issues to rear their controlling head. Aria wasn’t far off when she stated I was a crazy recluse.

  The door opened and a petite woman with short black hair walked in. She stared at me and something about her seemed familiar. She placed a water bottle in front of me and Mr. Reed.

  “Thank you, Grace.” He smiled up at her but her eyes were glued to me.

  She scurried out before I could ask if I knew her. I shook my head and turned back to Mr. Reed.

  “No, I don’t see any typos. Your name is repeated not just in this paragraph, which states ownership, but in several other points throughout this contract. It’s actually an Emma Hawthorne that leases the penthouse from you.”

  My mother.

  “How long have I owned it? Can you tell if this is a recent change?”

  He brought the paper close to his face and lifted his glasses. “The last change to this lease was dated five years ago. Before that I wouldn’t know and would have to see the previous documents to answer further.”

  She lied to me. My mother has been lying all this time. I knew she was cruel and controlling and even manipulated my image to the public, but I thought she was at least honest with me about my inheritance. Based on how little my father wanted to do with me I figured she was right when she said he left me almost nothing.

  “If you have no further questions, Mr. Hawthorne, it’s after hours here at Mimir and I would like to go home to my wife for dinner.” Mr. Reed, the property lawyer for the online retail giant, Mimir, pushed the contract back to me as I waved for him to go.

  “I’ll let your wife know we are done in here,” he said as he made his way out of the room.

  I was still in too much shock to correct his marital views about Aria.

  After a few moments, there was movement from the door behind me. “Well, how did it go? Is that your second penis or not?” Aria said as her sweet scent drifted around and she took a seat next to me.

  “Huh?” I said as I glanced over to her warm mocha eyes. I think I smiled, too.

  Even if the first few times meeting Aria were chaotic, it felt good to finally have someone I could trust to talk to. After she left last week, I picked up her sketch book, the one she scrawled her phone number on, and I picked up my phone. I wanted to hear her voice, tell her everything but one word stopped me.

  Crazy.

  Those rumors about me being a crazy recluse who pays to hang out with women, it’s all true.

  Aria wrinkled her nose causing my smile to widen. “Do you own the building?”

  She formed a circle with her hands and moved them up and down like she was giving a hand job to an abnormally large penis, “You know, phallic-shaped buildings. Ohh, yeah, I do love me some building. That’s it, baby, work my building.”

  I grabbed her wrists stopping her and glanced around to make sure her friend, Evaleen, the one who let us use Mimir’s lawyer and conference room, didn’t walk in.

  “Jesus, Aria. What are you, a teenager?”

  “No, I’m twenty-nine but in my heart, I’m a horny eighteen-year-old.” She winked at me.

  My cock went hard instantly. The way she was so casual and free with sex and her artistic talent . . . she made me want to do things to her body I only fantasized about. Things that she might not like.

  I cleared my throat, dropping her wrists. “Yes, I own the building.”

  She jumped up from the chair and threw her arms open. “That’s wonderful, Alex! Now you can do whatever changes you want.”

  Aria stood there, her arms still wide and I knew she wanted to give me a hug. I wanted to do that too, but something stopped me. The same thing that stopped me from going up to her in that gallery when I first noticed her years ago.

  I nodded. “Yes, I can pick one of your drawings now. Maybe even tear down the wall and make the room bigger.”


  My mind raced with ideas. I felt like a child let loose in an amusement park with no one there. Any ride free to enjoy but which to pick first? My gaze fell to her breasts.

  “So, no hug then?” Aria’s lips ticked up.

  “We should keep this professional. How we started off meeting wasn’t right. I want to keep things on track,” I said as I focused on gathering the paperwork.

  I was such a liar. Of course, I wanted to hug her. I wanted to do lots of things to her, but if she ever found out the truth about me I know I would lose her forever. I’d rather have Aria for a short time in my life than not at all.

  “Fair enough. Let’s at least shake on it.”

  Aria pushed her hand out. Setting the papers down, I turned in my seat but didn’t stand. Staring at her fingers my imagination went wild. Thoughts of those digits pressing into me, pulling and using me for their pleasure.

  Just shaking her hand was a summit to climb but I had to do it. She already thought I was odd being a recluse. I didn’t want to add to it by being too afraid to touch her.

  “Of course.” I slid my fingers across her palm. Her skin as smooth and warm as I remembered.

  Maybe even softer than before. I wondered if I firmed my grip, would she give?

  “There, now was that so hard?” I noticed her eyes dip to where I actually was hard.

  She knew. Aria wasn’t stupid, she could tell I wanted her. That would mean one thing. She was going to try. Aria was going to give. Give me what she knew I wanted.

  I shook my head, unable to form words.

  She released my grip but moved both hands to cup my palm, tickling my wrist with her fingers.

  “Wow, you have such smooth skin, Alex.”

  It hurt. My cock was in pain.

  “Why are you doing this, Aria?” I said, my voice rough.

  “Because I want you, Alex. It’s that simple. When two people are attracted to each other, they should be together. They fuck. Get it out of their system or keep fucking, but they do something. To pretend there is no attraction because of some societal pressure is ridiculous. This isn’t the nineteenth century.”

  Her words from before popped into my head—how people only wanted me for my money and looks. Was she like that? My mother warned me that’s how women were. How she tried to protect me by making sure I met with the right kind of woman.

  Which was never the right kind. They were the bought kind.

  I pulled my hand away. “So what if I’m attracted to you. Yes, Aria, I think you’re beautiful. I could fill a thousand canvases with the curves and shades of your eyes. And your lips, the dips and bends. How they plump and swell after you’ve bitten them while deep in thought. I’d use oils and brush with delicate strokes before smearing the color with my fingers.”

  Pushing the chair away as I stood, not caring my hard-on was clearly visible. She was pushing me and it was working. The words coming out of my mouth I never spoke to anyone.

  “But that’s cheap, isn’t it? Maybe you like cheap.” I inched closer forcing her up against the table. “Do you like it cheap, Aria? Pretty words about a pretty face you can’t help but wear.”

  Her eyes fluttered as she grasped the edge of the table to hold herself up. “Maybe I do.”

  Aria tried to push back, stand taller, and it was cute and sexy and I wanted to laugh.

  “But I have money. You pointed that out many times. It’s the reason we’re here, in this room. Why would I want to throw cheap things at you when I could give you anything you’ve ever dreamed of? Isn’t that what you want from me? The wild ride. The one that takes your breath away and shines like gold.”

  Her chest rose and fell with a quickened pace the more I spoke. I shouldn’t have said all that. But as much as I wanted her, as much as she thought she wanted me, I would never be used by a woman again.

  “Yes,” Aria whispered.

  I leaned forward, ghosting the words across her neck. “As much as I want to give you the ride of your life, it’s your talent that does it for me. It gets me hard and makes me weak. I want to see that gift when I wake in the morning and just as I drift to sleep at night. So, words are cheap and sex is primal, but your art is my life.”

  I don’t know how I did it, but I turned and walked to the door. Before I opened it, I turned back to find her still leaning against the table, her cheeks flushed.

  “I’ll take you home. I want you rested and ready tomorrow when you bring your gift to life in my bedroom.”

  NINE

  Aria

  That was some vibrator worthy talk.

  After Alex and I left the Mimir building last night, he had his car take me home. I went straight to my room and got out my beloved vibrator. I worked out a few orgasms before I felt like a normal human again and not some repressed teenager.

  I wanted to fuck Alex so bad.

  It’s becoming frustratingly obvious that Alexander is unlike any guy I had been with. Not that I’ve been with him sexually. He eloquently stated why that won’t happen.

  I like cheap and he doesn’t fuck cheap.

  Why should I be surprised? I shouldn’t, based on his money, his looks, and his power in the art world. He probably has supermodels with huge tits and long legs begging to come over so he can feed them his cannoli.

  What did I have? A flat chest and body so petite that I’m not tall enough to go on some rides at amusement parks. Maybe that’s why I sleep with so many men. I’m compensating for my lack of . . . well, everything.

  What made this worse? That I had to see him every day so I could paint his mural. I hope I don’t fuck this up. Literally.

  Even now, as I ride the elevator up to his condo, I try my best to push last night out of my head. How he both complimented me and ripped me apart in just a few words.

  I kept my head down as the doors opened. I wouldn’t let his amazing art distract me. The door was left open and I did my best to remember where his bedroom was.

  I think I made the wrong turn down a hall because I entered a small room with lots of television screens.

  “What are you doing in here?” A deep voice came from behind.

  I gasped, turning to find Bradley standing in the doorway.

  I covered my rapidly beating heart. “You scared me. I seem to be lost. I thought this was Alex’s bedroom.”

  “Sure you did.” He stepped back and waved me out.

  “What?” I said as I walked past him.

  “Alex’s bedroom is at the end of that hallway.” He pointed to the other end of the hall where it turned to the right.

  Before I could ask him again what he meant, he stepped into the room I recently left and closed the door.

  Asshole.

  After making it to the end of the correct hallway I noticed the door to Alex’s bedroom was open so I gave a swift knock on the door and stepped inside. Glancing around, Alex was nowhere to be found but my sketch pad was on the padded leather bench at the end of his bed.

  Walking over I picked it up. The page was turned to the sketch I was hoping he would pick. It was a risk since most people want pretty or serene murals. This was the opposite with so much going on. Color, movement, and chaos made it feel as if it was coming to life.

  “Good, you’re here.” Alex’s voice created a myriad of sensations colliding at once under my skin.

  My head rose as I did my best to temper those thoughts, quash those feelings, and dampen my need.

  “Yes. Just as you asked. You did say ten in the morning last night in the car, didn’t you?”

  I caught the wobble in my voice and hoped he hadn’t.

  He looked amazing today. Better than I fantasized about last night or the night before or every night since I met him. His light blue sweater fit him like it was made for him. Based on his account size, it probably was. And those jeans were tight enough that when he turned to look at the wall where the mural was going, I fist pumped the air.

  That man had a great ass. Don’t know why I was so excited about
that. It wasn’t like I was going to be able to touch it.

  “I see you picked my Art History mural.”

  Alex turned back from inspecting the wall. “Yes. Clearly, it’s the best. It shows my love of all art but you added your take on the great masters of the past. I have to say, Aria, I’m blown away.”

  Damn it. Why was he so nice, too? No man in the world was this perfect. I’m being set up.

  I began walking around the room, picking up knickknacks and glancing under the bed.

  “What are you doing?”

  I stood after I had made sure under the bed was clear. “Looking for hidden cameras.”

  Alex folded his arms and shook his head. “What? Why would you do that?”

  “Because you aren’t real. None of this is real.” I spread my arms out wide. “There is no man on this planet as perfect as you, Alexander Hawthorne.” I came over to him and pointed at his chest.

  Okay, maybe I didn’t point. Maybe I smoothed my hand up and down his chest. But that’s not the point. The point was he’s tricking me in some manner.

  He glanced down at my hand currently rubbing a hole in his sweater but he didn’t remove it. “Why is this okay, Aria? Why do you think coming into my home and putting your hands on me is something okay to do? What if I did that to you?”

  I stopped moving my hand but left it resting on his chest. “Then do it.”

  “What? You actually want me to rub your chest. You think that’s fine to do? It’s okay if a stranger comes up to you and starts to rub your chest?”

  “I never said I was okay for a stranger to do it. I said I was okay for you to do it.”

  His eyes widened and I knew he would make an excuse. Alex lifted his hand toward mine but I grabbed his wrist before he could get to mine.

  “Here, let me help you.” I pulled his arm up and placed it on the center of my chest.

  We both stood there not moving.

  “I’m waiting,” I said and couldn’t help the smile that crept over my mouth.