The Billionaire's Bauble
Page 7
Sloane stood in the doorway. Her dress pressed against her in the soft, evening wind, and it appeared transparent in the light cast by his car’s headlamps. David could see the lines of her hips, her long legs, her voluptuous breasts, and as much as her physical appearance moved him, it was the look on her face that made him skid to a stop.
Sloane stood breathless as David’s wheels ground to a standstill and the car door flew open. He was beside her within the blink of an eye. He grabbed her around the waist and brought her close. He kissed her hard, long, deeper than he ever had. Sloane clawed at his shirt as he slammed the door shut and pushed her against it. His mouth moved from her lips to her neck, and she worked at unbuttoning and unzipping his jeans.
David took her hands in one of his and put them above her head. Her back arched against the doorframe, Sloane felt David’s teeth against her flesh as he opened the tiny buttons of her dress. It fell open to reveal her lacy bra and panties. The bra had a front hook and David artfully unsnapped it. As her full, round breasts burst from her bra, David put his mouth on first one nipple then the other, licking and teasing the turgid peaks until Sloane was gasping.
He released her arms, and she grasped his thick neck as he continued to kiss her breasts, her stomach, her navel. They slid to the floor atop their own clothes, and Sloane wrapped her legs around his hips. She kissed his hairy chest and found her hands exploring the silky brown hair.
Sloane felt David hook his thumbs into her panties and she wriggled out of them. She lay there naked and panting as he brought himself down onto her body. His eyes were wide open, searching her face, and she pulled his lips to her own and said, “Yes.”
He entered her then, all at once his steely manhood filling her, fitting in as if her body and his were made for this act, and she cried out. Slowly he slid in and almost out of her body, back and forth, again and again what seemed a hundred times before she clutched at his back and felt a wave of pleasure so intense she thought she might lose consciousness. Stars speckled her vision as she rocked and bucked against his body, “David, David,” she moaned, and he smothered his name with kisses.
When he came inside her, she felt his heat course into her, and she clasped him as tightly as she could, reveling in their total union. She loved the feeling of his body inside hers, of his exhaustion as he lay on top of her, spent. His tongue played at the tip of her chin, at her ears, on her collarbones, before he put it in her mouth and she thought she might melt beneath his fiery kiss.
“This is just the beginning,” he whispered when he finally broke the kiss. He searched Sloane’s face as she traced her fingers along his lips and his jaw.
“I never doubted it,” she answered.
Sloane had never felt such excitement, such release, such abandon.
“Let’s go upstairs,” he said, and he rose from atop her and held out his hand to help lift her to her feet. She had never been so naked and exposed in front of a man before, and the shyness she had forgotten to feel suddenly crept up on her. David must have seen it in her eyes, in the awkward way she stood, and he lifted her chin and spoke directly into her eyes.
“You are the most magnificent woman ever created. You’re more than beautiful. You are like a goddess, Sloane, come to earth just for me.”
She saw the reverence softening his eyes and believed him.
She threw her shoulders back and nodded her head, showing him she trusted his words. His eyes raked her form, and she felt her nipples harden. She looked at his body then: his capable shoulders, his broad hairy chest, the flat muscled stomach. She stopped there, and he laughed, pulling her toward the stairway.
“What about our clothes?” she asked.
“We don’t need them.”
As David settled her in his bed in a room nearly identical to the guest room, Sloane was struck by the impersonality of the space. He slipped into the bed beside her and tugged the rich linen over their bodies. Then he pulled Sloane close into a hug. The way their bodies locked together so easily made Sloane feel sleepily content.
“I can’t believe what happened downstairs,” she mused aloud, and then giggled.
“Sloane, when I left it was because I knew I had to take you to bed if I didn’t. When I saw you in the doorway, I couldn’t leave you, but I didn’t expect what happened. I didn’t plan it.” His voice rasped against her ear, and she reveled in his admission, in his candor.
“Who could have planned that! It was the most spontaneous thing I’ve ever done.”
“Do you regret it?”
“No. I want to do it again,” she sighed, “but only if you do,” and she arched against him like a cat. She could feel his erection against her body, and it made her long to feel him inside her again.
“I have wanted you for two years, and you were worth the wait. But I want to make love to you slowly, over and over again, in my bed. I want to caress every inch of you and learn what pleases you.”
“You have pleased me more than . . .”
He rolled her around to face him, and his eyes were dark pools of light framed by long spikes of lashes. She grazed her lips along his cheekbones and let them flutter above his lips. His tongue darted out of his mouth, and she sucked on it. This man was driving her wild.
When she released his tongue, she snuggled into his chest and said, “Can I ask you something, David?”
“Anything you want,” he said, but Sloane could sense a shift in him.
She already knew he wasn’t a big talker, that revealing himself in words was a task he found cumbersome and anomalous. His willingness to try made her heart open wide, and she hugged him tightly before blurting, “David, why does every room in your house look the same?”
He laughed, “Now that came out of left field! You’re a surprise a minute, aren’t you?”
“I suppose,” she grinned, “but back to my question, mister…” she teased, delighting in how easy it was to talk to him, to be curious without embarrassment.
“I noticed that the decor mimics your office, that you don’t have any pictures, any mementos anywhere. Your home is truly lovely, your sense of style impeccable, but it does strike me as odd that every room seems so uniform.”
She glanced about her: even in David’s bedroom, not one personal item could be seen within its stark modern lines. Not even a plant on a stand or a flower in a vase adorned the room, and that surprised Sloane given the beauty of the outside gardens and the gorgeous bouquets he had sent to her the day before.
David stiffened a bit, and Sloane put her hands to his cheeks and rubbed his tense jaw with her thumbs.
“I’m sorry, but I hit a nerve, didn’t I?” she soothed, hoping their intimacy could continue with words as well as deed.
“Yeah, I guess you did,” he admitted. “When Lexi left, she took everything. The house had been decorated by my mother, and she had excellent taste. Lexi knew stealing my mother’s things was the one thing that might hurt me.”
“And she was right, wasn’t she?”
“Yeah,” he said, and Sloane watched as he closed his eyes and shook his head sadly.
“I made a huge mistake trusting that woman.”
Sloane heard what David didn’t utter, too. But it won’t happen again.
“What did you do to Lexi to make her so angry, so spiteful? I assume she wasn’t like that normally or you wouldn’t have lived with her, right?”
“She said I never listened, that I didn’t give her what she needed,” he answered soberly.
“Did she tell you what she needed, what she wanted, or did she expect you to know?”
“She told me that if I loved her, I would know what she wanted.”
His face was a storm of emotion as if not being able to figure out a woman’s desires had cost him his mother’s belongings. The thought made Sloane seethe inside.
“David, listen to me,” she said, and he looked into her eyes and held her tightly. She could see he wanted to listen, and Sloane needed him to hear her.
David laughed at this and shook his head, no. “Not a lot of passion in oil industry publications and stock portfolios. I never paid proper attention in my Literature courses, either.”
“Too bad,” she said, “because I think you can learn a lot from fiction, from reading about other lives. It can teach you that other possibilities exist, that you can overcome what you know and become what you want to be. I think Lexi should have taken the time to teach you what she wanted. If she loved you, she should have been willing. How could you understand how to give what you had never seen or been told or taught?”
David whistled a low tune. “You are a very bright girl, Sloane. Have you ever thought of becoming a psychologist?”
Sloane sat up abruptly, the covers falling from her naked breasts. David took the opportunity to nuzzle them as she spoke.
“Yes! Yes, I have, David. You are very intuitive. That’s the third time tonight you have known what I was thinking. I see a ton of potential in you.”
He laughed against her breastbone and she ruffled his hair. The stubble emerging on his chin thrilled her into silence. Then he stopped his fondling and smiled up at her. His wide mouth and straight white teeth, his luscious lips, were the most enticing she’d ever seen.
“So you think there’s hope for me, sweetheart?”
“I wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t.” Her words fell from her mouth as naturally as rain water, and she thought the effect might be just as dampening.
David surprised her by saying, “I’m so glad you’re here, right now, this way,” and he fastened his lips to her left nipple and tugged gently.
Sloane leaned back on the down pillows and said, “That feels so good, so good.”
Her hands played along the muscles of his back as he moved to the other nipple. David made her feel like anything she said, anything she did had merit. More, he made her body feel alive in a way she’d only read about or imagined.
David let loose her wet, puckered nipple, and moved his mouth to her lips.
“I love how you make me feel, Sloane,” and his voice sounded tight, sounded as if the words were ground from stone. Sloane guessed the word “love” had never been in his vocabulary, that the openness of their communication, the intensity of their fulfillment, was as new to him as it was to her.
“I will always tell you what I think, how I feel,” she promised him as his mouth moved to her neck.
“Tell me now, does this feel good?” and his fingers moved between her legs, gently pulling her thighs apart, searching out her moist tenderness.
Sloane could only gasp and clutch his thick muscled back in response.
As he touched and teased her, he said, “That’s what I thought.”
Chapter 8
When David checked his phone for the time, he couldn’t believe he’d slept so long. He stretched and rolled over to find Sloane gone. He jerked his head in surprise and scanned the room through squinted eyes. The drapes had been opened, and the room was bathed in yellow light. No Sloane.
He felt instantly bereft, as if his empty bed were unusual, and he chided himself for expecting her to be there beside him. He recalled the previous evening, and it brought a strange mixture of happiness and discontent. Relying on his past experiences as model, he knew what had occurred was the most incredible evening of his life.
David had never shared so much with anyone, and the fact that he barely knew Sloane, made the disclosures even more extraordinary. Perhaps it was too much too soon. Sloane was young, inexperienced even, and his outpouring might have scared her away. He couldn’t blame her for leaving. He had unpacked all his secrets, and she probably found them more than she could handle.
But the sex had been amazing, and he knew she had enjoyed their time in bed and in the hallway. He clapped his hand to his forehead. He wished he hadn’t rushed her, hadn’t taken her to bed the first chance he could. If he had driven away as he intended, maybe she would have stayed. Too late now for regrets, he decided, and he rose from the bed, intent upon getting some work done before he wasted the whole day in repose.
The thought made him laugh aloud. He hadn’t slept so well since he was a child. He wouldn’t entertain the thought that it had been Sloane, the warm comfort of her exquisite body, her soft, flowing hair, her insistent kisses. David remembered the way her cries of satisfaction had mingled with his own, and the way she had held him as tightly as she could, wanting him in a way no other woman had.
As he walked into the bathroom he wondered how long he could wait to call her. He didn’t want to appear overly eager, but he also didn’t want her to think he’d used her for sex. Could she be afraid that he might think her cheap, easy? She’d warned him she was not a one night stand, and he knew from all they’d revealed to one another, that he’d persuaded her to trust him. At least he thought he had.
He showered and dressed for the office, but before he left the room, he approached the bed. He lifted the pillow Sloane had slept upon and brought it to his face. He smelled her perfume, and it made him smile ear to ear. Then he shook himself free of her memory and went downstairs.
Veronica was dusting the hallway, and she smiled knowingly at him as he passed.
“I put the lady’s things in the guest room, Mr. Grant.”
“Thanks,” he mumbled as he opened the door to leave. He turned back to Veronica and asked, “Did you see Ms. Porter this morning, Veronica?”
“Yes, sir.” Veronica stood there, maddeningly silent.
“Well?” he said.
“She appeared in a hurry to leave. Your assistant Nate took her somewhere. You might want to ask him for the details.”
Veronica smiled again, and David shut the doors he had just opened and went into the study to find Nate. The young man sat on one of the couches, typing furiously on his keyboard. He nearly jumped out of his skin when he saw David glaring above him.
“Yes, Mr. Grant, can I do something for you? I was just replying to the email that you asked . . .”
David interrupted, “Never mind that. Where’s Sloane? Where’s Ms. Porter? Veronica told me you took her somewhere this morning.”
“Yes, she asked me to take her home. Then I took her to Forster.”
“Forster?”
“Yes, sir, I took her to Forster at about 8:00 this morning.”
David scowled at Nate and then checked his Rolex. She'd been at work an hour already. He didn’t have any messages from Tony either. The man knew Sloane was supposed to be resting today. David turned on his heel and stalked out the doors of his mansion. He sat in his car for a moment before deciding to call Sloane.
The phone rang several times before it went to voice mail. He hung up. Why had she gone to work? She must have been feeling well. He smiled to himself. If she felt half as good as he did, she was the healthiest woman on the planet.
Forster was on the same route David took to Grant Oil, so he decided to stop in and say hello to Tony, maybe see Sloane for a few minutes. It couldn’t hurt to be friendly.
He cruised down the driveway and toward downtown Fairbanks. The weather was balmy and bright. David couldn’t remember when he’d felt so energized and eager. He felt lighter than the cumulous clouds skipping across the azure sky.
As he pulled into the parking lot, he saw her in the breezeway between the lot and the building. Sloane looked amazing in a pair of tan slacks and a light blue silk blouse. The wind caught her hair and blew it away from her face. She wore a quizzical look, and she appeared to be waiting for someone. She didn’t see David, and he took a moment to drink in her loveliness before parking his car and approaching her.
“Good morning,” he said and she blinked a few times before responding.
“What are you doing here?” she gasped.
“David, I’m at work. Please stop. You’re determined to get me fired, aren’t you?”
He laughed and kissed her again. As his tongue slid into her mouth, she responded with a sigh before she shoved him away. He loved the fire in her emerald eyes, and his wry grin must have told her so.
“Here comes the car. I have to go. I’ll call you later, I promise.”
“No, not later. Now. I want to speak with you about last night. Wherever you need to go, I’ll take you. Come on. My car is over there,” and he pointed across the lot. He took her hand and tugged her toward his vehicle when she put on the brakes like a mule in reverse.
“No, David. I’m at work, and I have an errand to run. Mr. Forster has arranged a car to come get me.”
David reached into his jacket pocket with his free hand and retrieved his phone. He dialed Tony.
“Tony, Sloane is out here insisting she has to work. May I steal her from you for an hour?”
“I am not going anywhere with you. Tony, Mr. Forster…” and she tried to grab the phone from David’s hands, clearly desiring to speak with Tony herself. Tony laughed through the receiver as David hit the end call button.
Sloane didn’t look amused by his game. She pulled her hand away and said, “I can’t believe your arrogance, your impertinence.”
Her eyes burned into his, and he could see her temper rising like the heat index, but she turned away and moved toward his car.
“Sloane, you’re supposed to be resting. You’re supposed to be in my bed right now.” He tried to smile, but he was feeling a bit rejected. David was not one to take no for an answer. Actually, few people ever told him no. He didn’t like it, even when it was likely pretense.
She threw open the car door before he could open it for her and slammed it shut.
David walked around and calmly sat in the driver’s seat.
“Please take me to the Strathallen building,” she said, and the ice in her tone did little to make him feel less offended. It was as if all that had happened the night before had been erased by morning.