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Promise (Venture Capitalist Book 2)

Page 8

by Ainsley St Claire


  “I won’t kid you, they’re relentless. There were fake stories in the tabloids that some of her ‘friends’ planted. You see how social she is. She examined her group in high school and determined most of them weren’t truly friends. And don’t get me started on the mean-girl thing.”

  “Tell me about it. That’s why I hid in high school. What did you do to help her?”

  “I decided to take the attention off her and make sure they left her alone. I’d assumed they’d give up on me after a while, but they always seem to be fascinated by my boring life.”

  She stutters, “W-w-why would the tabloids care about you and CeCe? I mean, I get that you have fame, fortune and amazing good looks, but why would they care?”

  “You’ve asked the million-dollar question. My parents are credited with founding Sandy Systems before CeCe and I were born. Together they networked the computer lab while they were both graduate students at Stanford. My dad was running the computer science lab, and my mom was running the business school’s lab. Both were computer science grad students. Computers at the time couldn’t ‘talk’ to one another unless they were in the same room, but my parents changed that. Dad told Mom that he was doing it just to see if he could create something, but it’s old lore in The Valley that they did it so they could send love letters to one another.

  “They got pregnant with us after trying for several years. Having twins was a real surprise. After CeCe and I were born, my mom attempted to go back to work and leave us with nannies, but it got to be too much. She would tell us we were more fun than work, but I think she was growing tired of the politics at Sandy Systems, and we needed her at home. CeCe is truly the troublemaker in our family. She kept my parents and teachers on their toes.”

  Smiling at me, she says, “I’m not sure that being young, handsome and rich is boring. You’ve been seen with all the most beautiful socialites and women in Hollywood. You’re the ultimate catch for some women.”

  “I guess the real question is do you think I’m the ultimate catch?

  Blushing the most amazing shade of pink, she says, “Of course I do.”

  That makes my heart race, and I want to sing and dance.

  After dinner, we snuggle by the fire. “There isn’t a television, and internet is spotty, so our only option is to play games. But we have a nice game closet.” Reaching into the closet, she picks up a box a little larger than a deck of cards. “This is my favorite game of my childhood.”

  “Mille Bornes?”

  “Absolutely. It’s a car race played with cards in French.”

  “In French?”

  “Well, the cards are in French, but we don’t have to speak French. It was always my favorite growing up. It made me want to go to France.”

  “When did you go?”

  “I’ve never been.”

  I raise a brow. “You can afford to go now.”

  She nods. “Oh, I know,” she says, blushing, “but I’ve never had anyone to go with.”

  I get that. San Francisco isn’t always the easiest for single women, and though I’d love to show her the City of Lights and share with her all that I love about Paris, I don’t want to overwhelm her and possibly freak her out. “Show me how to play.”

  She kills me playing Mille Bornes and then Scrabble. At the end of the night, I escort her to her bedroom door, and she leans in and kisses me. My brain lights on fire and warmth spreads throughout my entire body. I’m addicted, unable to bear not being with her, though I can barely breathe when she’s around. These kisses are my salvation and my torment. She’s the half that makes me whole. Her eyes tell me that we both want more, but we’re cautious, taking it slow.

  The next morning, we both easily agree to stay until we need to leave to be in Hillsboro on time for dinner Sunday night. I want to devour her. I’m trying to be patient and not jump her, but it’s hard.

  After a nice cup of coffee, we walk up and down the beachfront, enjoying the waves as they lap along the sand. We walk silently at times and other times we talk, one just as simple as the other. I don’t think I’ve ever felt this relaxed with another person outside of my immediate family.

  “Tell me more about why the tabloids are so interested in you and CeCe.”

  “It’s a bit of a long story, so bear with me.” She smiles, giving me permission to continue. “My father was raised as the only child of his parents' union. He has eight half-siblings from his father’s other marriages—six marriages, actually. His father—my grandfather—was incredibly wealthy. My great-great-grandfather came to the US from France and made his money in the steel industry. After my dad was born, my grandfather moved on to his next wife. My dad, against his father’s wishes, came out to Stanford to get a computer science degree and met my mom their freshman year. My dad grew up in the newspapers, but they weren’t like they are now. They only wrote about what they were supposed to, no hiding in bushes or combing through their trash.”

  “Really? They comb through your trash?”

  “You’d be surprised where we find them. So, my mom was from a big Montana ranching family. They fell in love, and together they built Sandy Systems when they were in grad school.

  “Because my dad wasn’t going into the family steel business, my grandfather pulled my dad’s trust fund, but they didn’t care. Sandy Systems was doing well. My grandfather died after our tenth birthday. When they read his will, he gave specific things to each of his children. My dad got a letter, and CeCe and I got my father’s inheritance.”

  “Wow. That sure would be a turning point in anyone’s life.”

  I squeeze her hand. “My parents raised us with a strong work ethic and taught us to never take it all for granted.”

  “You do know that’s a huge asset, don’t you?”

  “I do. As my grandmother once told me, having reason to wake up each day and having a purpose are important. I’ve grown to understand that and find that there’s so much truth in that philosophy.”

  Nodding, she says, “That’s how I feel. The money came with a lot of work, but it could also go away.”

  “We weren’t given the companies outright either. Both CeCe and I started on the ground floor of the family businesses. I delivered mail and was often known as Trey Michael—my nickname and my middle name. It allowed me to work under the radar and learn without any preconceived ideas or people thinking I was entitled to anything. Most of my managers didn’t know who I actually was, so I worked my way up the corporate ladder.”

  We return to the house, but before we walk in, she turns and hugs me. “Thank you for sharing all of that. It means a lot to me.”

  Despite knowing it was safe, it was difficult to share my history with her. It’s clear she understands that, and I’m grateful.

  It’s hard to believe that our day flies by. We didn’t do anything in particular, and I relished in the simplicity of it. When it’s time to start dinner, she does the prep work while I heat up the grill, open the wine and set the table. I find some candles and light them, and we enjoy our dinner together.

  “What a great day,” I tell her.

  “I’m so glad I could share one of my favorite places on earth with you.”

  “I can see why you like it, but I also enjoyed spending time with you.” I reach across the table for her hand and rub her knuckles with my thumb. “You’re not only beautiful and incredibly sexy, but you’re also brilliant, funny and easy to be around.” I stand and take her by the hand. “Would you like to build a bonfire out on the beach?”

  “Let me get the marshmallows, chocolate bars and graham crackers.”

  We make s’mores by the fire, then sit and take in the heat of it. As the sun goes down, the fire becomes bright and vivid, as though someone has shone a spotlight on it, full of brilliant reds, oranges and faint yellows. We huddle closely, giving us the warmth we need to remain outside on a brisk, cool evening.

  I have chocolate all over my fingers from the s’mores. Reaching for my index finger, she plac
es it in her mouth to lick it off. I breathe in heavily, wanting more. Seductively, I ask, “Shall we go inside?”

  She nods, and we stand to put the fire out. Sara holds my hand as we head back to the beach house. We don’t talk, just walk leisurely and enjoy the contact. I’m content knowing that for the rest of the evening she's all mine. Being near her excites me, and also gives me a serenity I’ve never known from anyone else. It's like the breaths I take aren't full when she's not with me, like the smiles I smile are incomplete somehow. She creates the warmth in my soul that fills me full of love and keeps the fire burning in my eyes. My eagerness increases as we reach the house and she leads me inside.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  Sara

  His fingers interlace with mine as he leans over and kisses me, his lips soft and insistent. He stops to gaze at me as if asking for permission to continue, and I stare at him with desire burning in my eyes. Kissing me again, this time he pushes his tongue past my lips, parting them. My body responds to his and I’m suddenly pliant in his arms, his tongue tangling with mine as his hands move to my hair. He pulls back and stares at me, giving me a half smile like he knows he’s going to get what he wants, and then he’s kissing me again, deep and passionate, my head spinning with the intensity of it.

  I sit in a chair to catch my breath, and he stands before me. I unbuckle his pants and let them fall to the floor, his hard cock tenting in his cotton boxers. It seems almost too big, but I want him.

  Taking him in my hand, my fingers don’t quite meet on the other side and I wonder how I’ll ever manage while also wanting to take every last inch of him in my mouth.

  I flick my eyes up at him as I press my tongue flat against his base, slowly dragging it up the full length.

  “Jesus,” he gasps.

  I see pure lust in his eyes, and it turns me on. I trace over the slit at the top and twirl my tongue around the entire head. Then I start again, licking up the front and swirling around the ridge on the underside, teasing him. I run my hand up and down before dipping my head, stretching my jaw as wide as it will go and taking Trey in my mouth. He lets out a deep moan.

  I slowly lower my head inch by inch as his fingers dig into the hair at the base of my neck. Knowing I have him so hot makes me want to give him more. With one hand on his throbbing cock, following the motion of my mouth up and down on his slick member, I gently cup his balls with the other. They tighten under my delicate touch.

  My main work is done with my mouth, though, and I savor every taste, keeping my lips and tongue firm against him, releasing only to lick him at the tip. Each time my head dips down, I take more of him into my mouth, marveling at how loose my throat has become, that it can take much more than I ever imagined.

  “God, Sara,” he moans, his fingers fully tangled in my hair as he guides my head at the pace he wants, my mouth stretching wide. I pause and take my mouth off his cock, giving it quick kisses up the side before taking it as deep as I can once more, Trey gently pushing the back of my head to have more of him. His breath comes in gasps as I quicken my pace, my hand still stroking him.

  “Don’t stop,” he gasps, and I wouldn’t have even if we were on a plane going down. “Sara, I’m going to come,” he says, and knowing my mouth could do this to him makes me moan with him. Soon he explodes and I take all of him, holding him there as cum slides down my throat, his grunts hardly contained. His hand falls from my head to my shoulder, and finally he braces himself on the arm of the chair, panting for air. I slip him out of my mouth.

  Once he pulls himself together and tugs his pants back up, he sits on the bench across from me, rubbing his hands over his face and through his hair. “Damn. I’m going to need a minute. I think I went off to another universe for a while there.”

  “Flatterer,” I tell him, but secretly I’m pleased. I’ve never made a man say my name like that. I move over and sit next to him.

  “I’m not kidding,” he says.

  Very happy with his satisfaction, I lean over to nip at his neck. His breath becomes labored, and I’m sure he’s getting hard again.

  He leads me by the hand to my room, then sits on the bed facing me with his hands on my hips. He breathes in my scent before covering my midsection in soft kisses.

  I’m speechless as I allow him to peel my pants and panties off my body in one fell swoop. Even though I feel incredibly exposed, all my inhibitions have flown out the window. My heart is beating a million miles a minute as I think, I want this man. Every sexually deviant thought I’ve ever had before has resurfaced with a vengeance, and I thank my lucky stars it’s Trey who will put out the fire.

  The effect of his one hand is profound. My nipples pebble, my breath grows shallow and goose bumps cover my skin. I’m much more turned on than I should be, and it isn’t just his hand—it’s the way he watches me. I know without a shadow of a doubt that he’s as aroused as I am, and that really works for me.

  “Open your legs,” he demands.

  I do as I’m told, and his fingers trace my wet folds, teasing me. I’m almost ready to beg him for more when his fingers dip deep inside me. First one and then another plunge into my wet crease, and I moan my appreciation.

  “Soaking wet,” he rasps, then removes them as quick as he started. My body aches at the loss. Placing his wet fingers into his mouth, he sucks my juices and I’m further turned on. “And as I expected, so sweet.”

  “I want more.” I raise my hips, and with a groan, his hot, hungry mouth moves down to my core. The blood rushes through me as his movements pick up pace and become more urgent.

  He deepens the suction of his mouth with his fingers inside me, rubbing my G-spot. Lights flash before my eyes as a tsunami of pleasure rolls over me, obscuring everything. My climax jolts through my entire body, and I throw my head back and grip his shoulders to keep myself upright as my legs turn to Jell-O.

  We lie satiated on the bed, facing one another without saying anything, his hands caressing me from my hips to my shoulders. His erection presses into my stomach, and I lean in to lick his lips before I start to aggressively probe his mouth with my tongue.

  He pulls away, and I hear the tear of a foil packet as he sits on the edge of the bed, rolling the condom down his length. Then he’s there, the head of his cock pressed against my slit. I’m so wet and turned on that he has no problem sliding inside, but he stretches me tight, filling me like no one ever has before. The sensation is indescribable, and I dig my nails into the sheets below me.

  We simultaneously moan in ecstasy as he begins to pull out. My core greedily fights to tighten and clench around his girth, not wanting him to move, going to any length necessary to keep him inside me. He pauses when the very tip of his cock rests just inside my opening. I sigh in relief and savor the feeling when he slides his full length back into the depths of my warm center, his movements slow and controlled as he gives my body what it craves. He lets out a satisfied groan, and we both come again in a glorious moment of ecstasy.

  Once our heavy breathing calms, he grins. “That was amazing.”

  He pulls me in close so we’re spooning, and I drift off to sleep feeling satisfied, safe and adored.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  Trey

  Lying in bed, I think of how our weekend has gone. What a pleasant surprise. I thought when Sara suggested we could visit the beach house, it would be full of sex and debauchery. But when we arrived, she showed me my own room and initially set an expectation of two friends getting to know one another. We had a nice time starting out as friends, and it eventually moved into something more serious. Getting to know a woman outside of the limelight makes such a difference. Finding how beautiful Sara is on the inside as well as the outside has been absolutely amazing.

  Sara seems to meet every requirement on my mental checklist of a woman. She’s smart, beautiful, and has a dry sense of humor that meshes quite well with mine. I know there’s a certain amount of baggage that comes with dating me, so the women who want all the atte
ntion aren’t usually the ones for me. But even if Sara and I never amount to anything romantically, if we discover we’re only shooting stars in the night, fired up and soon to burn out, I’ll always have this moment to fill my soul.

  Waking with a woman in my bed is new for me, but it feels comfortable and right with her. The heat of our bodies so close together brings the comfort of a warm blanket on a cold morning. I hear her rhythmic breathing and know Sara’s still sleeping. Slowly I open my eyes and see the beautiful woman sleeping beside me. The slope of her back is so sexy as she lies on her side facing away from me, the sheets wound around her waist. I can’t help but run my fingers over her smooth skin, starting at her shoulders and caressing down her arm to her glorious waist. Leaning in, I begin a trail of kisses down her side, following the path my fingers laid.

  She rolls over and gazes at me with a sexy smile, purring, “Good morning.”

  “Good morning. Did you sleep well?”

  “I do tend to sleep better at the beach.” She stretches, exposing her breast. The nipple beads, and I lean down and bring it in my mouth, making her moan and push her hips into me. She bites her lip, closing her eyes momentarily before opening them again to watch me, her lips parted. I gently glide my finger across her pussy, so wet and pink and mine—mine to play with, mine to please. I dip my finger into her, and she lets out a moan as I pump inside her before slipping my finger out and giving her clit some much-needed attention. Her face flushes with passion, and I know she’s going to start begging me soon for more. I love that she always needs more.

  My hands glide from her face down to her shoulders, clasping them tightly before making my way to her breasts, pulling and kneading them as she arches into me. I’m drunk and dizzy from the ferocity of her tongue alone, but combined with her soft chest pressing into mine and her intoxicating smell of orange, jasmine and rose, it takes an ungodly force to make me let go of her.

 

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