But Cara was different. She was barely verbal most days, so I just slung my backpack onto my desk and started riffling through my bureau, looking for my swimsuit. I’d taken up swimming since starting college, the pool was one of the only places where I could relax, the beautiful light blue water, the monotony of doing laps again and again, just me and the black line at the bottom. And the truth was it helped me get my mind off Stone. Or more accurately, it was a neutral place, a place where I was alone with my thoughts and could think about my ex-lover as much as I wanted without feeling guilty, where I let myself go and didn’t berate myself for dreaming about him.
So I pulled my swimsuit on, struggling to get the tight nylon over my curves. Oh fuck, I’d gained weight again and the one-piece was super small, digging into my shoulders, the leg cut-outs so high as to almost hit my belly button, my boobs leaking out the sides. Well, a tight suit was supposed to be good for racing, I told myself, less drag in the water. Okay, I wasn’t exactly an Olympic swimmer but still, it made me feel better.
I threw on a cover-up and some flip-flops and was just about to head out the door when Cara finally looked up.
“You got a call,” she drawled.
I turned.
“Thanks,” I said tightly, trying to be patient. “From who? When?”
She shook her head slowly.
“Can’t remember, sorry,” she said, turning back to her book, burying her nose in that massive tome.
I put down my gym bag, hands on hips, suddenly pissed.
“Cara,” I said, my voice tight. “I need you to take messages. I know landlines aren’t popular anymore, people generally use cells, but still when I get a call I expect more detail than ‘you got a call.’ I need to know who it was and when they called. It’s not too much to ask, you know,” I said huffily.
Little impression that made on the girl. She just grunted in acknowledgment, her eyes never leaving the page.
So I turned to go again. Hopefully it hadn’t been the registrar calling. I’d been negotiating with them about tuition payments since I was a little short this year. With my job at the on-campus coffee shop and a bunch of scholarships, I could almost cover the cost of school, but not quite. So hopefully the registrar had come around and would let me make my payments a bit late this year. Once I got a summer job, I’d have a lot more coming in and the financial strain would ease. Hopefully, fingers crossed.
“I remember now,” Cara announced suddenly, her head jerking up. “It was the registrar.”
I groaned internally.
“Did they say anything specific?” I asked.
“No,” my roomie said disinterestedly, “just said for you to call back.”
Well, the issue was so important that I could do them one better. Looking at the clock, I saw it was three. I could run to the registrar, chat with them, and then hustle to the pool for a quick swim and still make it to class at four. It’d be a tight squeeze but I needed to get my tuition issue worked out as soon as possible.
So I almost ran across campus to the administrative building, my hair flying, curves bouncing. Panting, I landed at the window, whipping out my student ID.
“Hi, I got a call from you guys earlier, I’m Evie Jones, here about a payment plan?” I said breathlessly, my chest heaving. Damn it, this swimsuit as really tight and I felt like I couldn’t breathe.
The woman behind the window took my ID, squinting as she punched my student ID into the computer.
“Name?” she said laconically.
“Evie, I mean Evelyn Jones,” I corrected. You never knew when the whole bureaucratic machine could come crashing down because of a nickname.
“Date of birth?” she asked disinterestedly.
“February 20, 1997,” I replied.
And the woman just shook her head, bored.
“I show you as all paid up,” she said, “No outstanding balance.”
I stood stock still. This couldn’t be right.
“No, just last week I came in because I needed to figure out a payment plan with the school,” I said slowly. “I owe State something like thirty thousand for this year.”
But the woman was bored, barely even looking up from her screen.
“Nope, shows here your balance is zero,” she said again, her voice flat. “Did you get some scholarship money? Or some financial aid come in? Or,” and here she cackled to herself, “you got a fairy godmother maybe?”
I shook my head, puzzled. None of those things had happened. I knew there was no more financial aid coming down the pike and the scholarships I’d been awarded had already been applied. So I pressed forward.
“Well, can you see when my tuition was paid and who paid it?” I asked. This had to be a mistake and I was sure it was going to all come unraveled at some point. “Surely, you can tell that from the system.”
The woman stared at the computer again, flicking through a couple keys.
“Says here it was paid in full today,” she remarked, her eyes flicking to me. “Like I said, you got a fairy godmother?”
I flipped through my mental rolodex. Nope. There was no one who could have done this, certainly no one I knew had a spare thirty thousand and could write a check just like that. So I shook my head, mystified.
“But does it say who paid it? Where it came from?” I asked futilely.
The woman just shook her head.
“Nope, computer doesn’t have that information. Just says thirty-one thousand five hundred and fifty-two cents was paid earlier today. The check already cleared,” she added helpfully.
And shaking my head again, I picked up my gym bag, dazed, turning to go. Where had the money come from? It was like a jackpot had fallen from the sky and landed on my head, showering me with clinking golden coins, easing my life of financial strain. This was so weird, an enormous load off my back. Maybe now I could take an unpaid internship this summer to bolster my resume instead of double shifts at the coffee shop. So many opportunities had just opened and I was mystified and elated at once, dazzled by my good fortune.
So with slow steps, I made my way to the pool. Honestly, my work-out was the last thing on my mind and I was wandering around a little lost, like someone who’d just found out they’d won the Megamillions Lotto when a big shadow descended over me.
Slowly, I turned, still dazed, still on Cloud Nine, my eyes focusing slowly.
“Stone?” I said, confused. “What are you doing here? WTF, where have you been?”
And the big man chuckled.
“Girlie,” he rumbled, his eyes ravenous, devouring me in my skimpy cover-up, “I’ve been waiting for you.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Stone
Evie had been wandering like a lost little lamb, her eyes big, dazed, ever since she exited the Financial Aid Office. And I knew why. I’d gone in there and paid her tuition bill, making sure to bring the balance down to zero.
The woman at the counter had resisted that morning.
“And who are you?” she asked suspiciously, eyeing me up and down.
Now I admit, it’s not every day you get an alpha male in the dinky offices of Financial Aid, a dude who literally took up all the space in those tiny confines.
“Stone Phillips,” I said peremptorily. “Here to pay the bill of Evie Jones.”
The woman wasn’t persuaded.
“I can’t just hand out personal financial information,” she said tightly. “It’s confidential.”
And I leaned forward, my manner slightly threatening.
“Let me clarify,” I said, my voice low, rasping. “My name’s Hanson Stone Phillips, and I believe you’re sitting in a building my grandfather built.”
Because I’m a scion of the moneyed Phillips family who made their fortune in packaging. We started off making paper boxes and wrapping paper but soon branched into industrial packaging solutions, doing everything from the crates for Dole Pineapples in Hawaii to the shit that your laptop comes boxed in. So yeah, my family’s at the head o
f a massive empire, the money rolling in waves, and at this very moment we were sitting in a building which my grandfather had endowed way back in the day.
The woman immediately perked up, sitting up straight.
“Oh yes, of course Mr. Phillips,” she chattered nervously. “I’m sorry, Phillips is such a common name, I didn’t realize a member of the family was here.”
And I sighed, leaning back. Her behavior was exactly why I didn’t use my first name. First, because Hanson is a lame name. Well, not lame but I just don’t want to be called “Han,” “Han Solo,” Hannie” or any number of juvenile nicknames. So I go by my middle name instead, Stone. It works and everyone’s called me Stone since I was a kid.
Second, Hanson Phillips is way too recognizable. It’s the name of my father, my grandfather and countless male relatives. As soon as people hear the name “Hanson Phillips,” they bow and cower, making way for the alpha dogs. And I didn’t want that. Sure, I came from power and money but that didn’t mean that I wanted to lord it over people, make them feel like vassals in my kingdom.
So I took a job as a high school Biology teacher and it suited me well. Of course, my family was devastated. They wanted me to join the Phillips packaging business but I was reluctant, I wanted to explore my own interests and make my own way in life without becoming a part of the hive collective immediately. So I got a teaching degree and started at Spencer Prep as a biology instructor.
But my family never gave up, giving me time to grow and develop professionally on my own, before pressing their case.
“It’s been five years,” my dad rumbled, his brows drawn. “Don’t you think that’s enough teaching? You’ve done a lot for the kids.”
And my grandfather was even more direct.
“I’m getting old,” he croaked. “I’m going to kick the bucket any day now and we need fresh leadership at the company. You and your dad are the only ones, I can’t hand over the reins to Hanford or Hansel,” he said with disgust. I agreed with him there. My cousin Hanford was an addict, in and out of rehab a couple times in the last few years, and my other cousin Hansel was just lazy. I don’t think he’d even graduated junior high, it was that bad.
So I’d left Spencer after that magnificent date with Evie and gone to work for my family. It was abrupt, I admit. The administration wasn’t too happy with the zero notice I gave them, leaving them scrambling to find a sub, and threatened me with bad references, cutting off my paycheck immediately. But it didn’t matter, I didn’t need references and my paycheck? It was a pittance, just a tiny amount of money each month that barely paid the bills.
Besides, I had to do what was right for me and Evie. We’d finally gone on a date, a real date between a man and a woman and I realized how dangerous that was. Not for me, I didn’t give fuckall for what people thought of me. It was for my best girl. If people found out that she was dating her Biology teacher not only would there be scandal but people would question her integrity, and she’d potentially be cited by the Academic Integrity Committee. And then what? There’d be a permanent mark on her transcript and her dreams of going to college would be ruined, blackballed by all the good schools.
So I had to leave. I cut off all contact with the curvy girl, telling my doorman to screen her if she came by, act vague and say that I was out. And I was careful to avoid being seen for a while. I left for work early in the mornings and stayed at my other apartment most nights, so that no one caught me unawares.
And it worked. I’ve spent a year without Evie now, without her hungry pussy wrapped around my cock, without feeling those heavy breasts in my palms, the nipples hard, the flesh soft and creamy. And even more, I haven’t heard her laugh, seen those pink pouty lips stretch in a smile, those brown eyes gaze into mine with love and lust.
And fuck, but I hoped it wasn’t too late. A woman’s love is nothing to sneeze at and I’d been a fucker, leaving her with no warning, dropping off the edge of the Earth. So I had to take this opportunity to explain myself, confront her and make her see that what I’d done was actually best for her, for us as a couple.
“Evie,” I ground out harshly, my mouth watering at the sight of the beautiful female. What the fuck was she wearing? It was some kind of blue thing, totally transparent, sleeveless, stopping just above her puss, showing her swimsuit underneath. How could she walk around campus half-naked like this? My hackles raised and my cock punched out. God, it was an automatic reaction for me around her, I was immediately aroused, turned on to the fucking max whenever in her vicinity.
And the brunette spun slowly, her eyes widening, taking me in.
“Mr. Phillips?” she breathed. Then a little louder, “Stone?”
I growled, drawing her into my arms. We were just outside the pool complex with students streaming by, but I didn’t care.
“Hey little girl,” I murmured into her hair, savoring the sweet scent of those brown curls. “I’ve missed you.”
But despite the big boobs pressed against my chest, the quick, indrawn breaths, Evie stiffened, her back going ramrod straight.
“What are you doing here?” she said in a loud whisper. “What the fuck? Where have you been?”
I was expecting this and my arms tightened around her, becoming steel bands.
“I get it,” I murmured into her hair, “I took off but it was for the better. I’m back now and we’ll work it out,” I said soothingly.
But the little girl was a spitfire and wasn’t having it. She struggled, big boobs bouncing, pushing against my massive chest, eyes shooting sparks.
“You get it?” she hissed, her face going slightly red. “Stone, you don’t get it at all. No matter where you’ve been, what you’ve been doing, I don’t care! You don’t just get to come back and say it’s okay. The world doesn’t work like that.”
I was struggling to hold her, the miles of bouncing flesh so arousing, so tempting, but Evie was fighting hard. I wanted to close all distance between us, haul her up against my big form before tossing her in my car but stopped. Being arrested for abduction was not in the cards. So I let her go, both of us stepping back, eyeing each other warily, panting.
“Evie,” I rumbled, holding a hand out to her. “Listen to me, let’s go somewhere we can talk and I’ll explain.”
“Bullshit!” she hissed, looking at my outstretched hand like it was poison. “You’re not explaining anything! I have shit to do and you can’t just come waltzing in and disrupt everything!”
I looked at her, my brows lowered in frustration.
“What, what do you have to do? What’s more important than this, than us?” I gestured, frowning.
And her breath hitched at the word ‘us.’
“For your information, there’s no ‘us,’” she said haughtily. “And if you haven’t noticed, I have my swimsuit on and have a workout planned,” she said frozenly. “The sports facility is right here.”
I eyed her up and down, my eyes tracing those creamy curves. I almost lost it then, I could hardly stand the fact that there was so much gorgeous, curvy flesh out in the open, barely shielded by that cover-up, dudes walking by blatantly checking my girl out, eating her up with their eyes.
“What the fuck is wrong with you?” I growled, suddenly possessive. “You walk around campus naked like this all the time? Here,” I said, grabbing her towel out of her hands and draping it around her shoulders, “cover yourself, this outfit is fucking indecent.”
And the girl gasped, fighting me, struggling under my hands, trying to brush the material off her shoulders, boobs jiggling, butt jouncing. But it was totally futile. I was intent on covering her up because no way, no how other guys were going to look at that delectable body. It belonged to me, that pussy, those tits, those thighs, they were mine.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Stone?” she gasped, eyes flaring, as she struggled and twisted, trying to throw me off. “You don’t get to come here and tell me what to do, what to wear, how to behave! You disappeared!” she hissed. “Disappea
red without a trace and now you think you can come back and be the boss? Get a clue!” she spat.
But before I could retort, campus security pulled up.
“Ma’am,” said the officer, frowning, “This man bothering you?”
I looked at the intruder and almost laughed. The guy was scrawny, maybe five five, riding a Segue like a mall cop policing a bunch of teens. Really? Get serious, I wasn’t threatened at all. He probably had pepper spray, not even a gun.
But in the interest of keeping calm and not making a scene, I pulled the brunette close, plastering her to my side before dropping a kiss on the top of her head.
“Officer, thanks for your interest but we’re fine,” I stated with a fake smile, giving Evie a little shake as she began to squirm again. “My girlfriend and I were just about to go for a swim at my house,” I rumbled, binding the brunette to me with an arm of steel.
And as she struggled against me, curvy form wiggling, I reached down and pinched her ass, out of sight, clutching that hot, heavy flesh between two fingers, the twinging pressure making her gasp, her cheeks coloring.
“Right Evie?” I said smoothly, smirking slightly. “We were just going for a swim.”
And now my hand was stroking her ass, massaging the place I’d just pinched with warm fingers, soothing her, tracing hot circles.
“That-that’s right,” Evie stammered, thrown for a loop and shooting a weak smile at the police officer. “My boy-boyfriend and I were just going for a swim.”
And the sense of ownership that flooded me was immense, my chest puffed out, feeling like I was on top of the world. Hearing Evie say the word “boyfriend,” having that fat ass back in my grasp, only cemented my belief even further – that we were right together, that this little girl belonged to me and only me.
The Billionaire's Kitten: A Fake Marriage Romance Page 36