Big Bad Billionaires

by Naughty Aphrodite

  “Yeah. Used to come here all the time when I was a kid.”

  “If you’ve got such great memories of this place, why haven’t you come back?” she asked, rooting in her bag for her pen and notepad.

  “Jumping right into it, huh?” he asked, a nervous half-smile on his lips.

  “No time like the present,” she answered.

  And she was glad that Brent was willing to jump right in with her. He answered every question she asked him. And, for her part, Leah was surprised to learn that Brent’s childhood had been much different from the rosy picture Marcus had painted for her.

  “It’s true that Dad was a middle-class marketing vice president for a TV station,” Brent said. “But, he was also a raging alcoholic. He would hit our mother constantly. Even hit me a few times. Jordan and I dealt with it in different ways. Jordan put his head down, locked himself in his room and focused on his school work. I used any excuse to get out of the house altogether. Needless to say, I ended up getting into some trouble. Once, mom even had to come to the police station because I’d been nabbed for graffitiing a car. But…that changed when I was about thirteen.”

  “I assume that’s when you got into CAA,” Leah said.

  “You assume right,” he told her. “After Mom begged him, Dad tried Alcoholics Anonymous. Mom got me and Jordan to go to the CAA meetings. Jordan didn’t go back after the first one. But…I kept going. I guess I liked being able to talk about all the stuff going on. Even after Dad gave up on the twelve-step program and started drinking again, I kept going to the CAA meetings.”

  “And your Dad drinking again is the reason you left town?” Leah asked, finally beginning to understand.

  “Yeah,” he said. “I started trying to defend Mom when he would go after her. So he started beating up on me. Eventually, when I was eighteen, I got sick of it. So, I left. Jordan had already moved out so, I moved in with him. Didn’t see any reason to come back.”

  “Not even when your Dad died?”

  “Like I said,” he told her taking a sip of his water. “I didn’t see any reason to come back.”

  He set down his cup, looked up and gave her a small half-smile as she jotted the last sentence down in her notebook.

  “Just one last question,” she said.

  “Shoot.”

  “Why doesn’t your brother want you to talk about this?”

  The half-smile faded from his face and he looked down at his hands.

  “Jordan…Jordan just doesn’t like talking about personal stuff with the press,” Brent said. “And, I mean…I can see why. Things celebrities say get blown out of proportion all the time.”

  “That explains why he doesn’t talk about it,” Leah answered. “But, why does he have his guard dog trailing you to make sure you don’t talk about it. And, beyond that, why do you let him?”

  Brent’s tan cheeks took on a slight flush when he glanced up at her. A look of something between shame and embarrassment crossed his face.

  “Look,” he said. “Jordan was the one constant I had growing up. I mean, Mom was so beaten down by our father it was hard for her to look out for us. Dad was always drunk. So, Jordan basically raised me. It’s…it’s hard for me to say no to him.”

  “Then why speak out now?”

  Brent ran a hand over the five o’clock shadow on his chin and heaved a sigh.

  “To tell the truth, I’m getting tired of it,” he said. “I’m getting tired of not being able to tell people how much help I got growing up. I’m sick of people thinking I had some kind of privileged upbringing when that was not the case at all.”

  “Does people thinking you’ve had a privileged upbringing really change the way people see you?”

  “You’d be surprised,” he said. “Especially when I come back to St. Augustine. I mean Marcus has kept me out of trouble this trip but usually-oh, shit!”

  Leah followed his gaze out the restaurant’s window and saw why Brent’s face had suddenly fallen. Marcus, followed by the bodyguard was marching towards them, a look of fury on his face.

  “I guess this means you’re in trouble,” Leah said. “Should we run for it?”

  Brent shook his head, his eyes still locked on Marcus.

  “I’m sick of him babysitting me,” he said. “Sick of him parading me around. Calling me his meal ticket. I think you’re right. It’s time I stand up for myself.”

  As soon as this speech was finished, the front door of the shack flew open and Marcus stomped in.

  “So, this is where you went off to!” he said moving over to their table. The slick smile that usually filled his face was gone and his cheeks were red and puffed. He would have looked funny if Brent’s expression hadn’t been so serious.

  “Marcus look, I- “

  “You’re giving interviews, the exact interviews your brother wanted me to stop you from giving, just because some pretty reporter bats her eyes at you? Do you know how much damage you’re doing?”

  “It’s not damaging, to tell the truth!” Brent said his voice raising. “And I’ll take all the responsibility with Jordan.”

  “Do you think that’ll stop him from taking it out on me?” Marcus asked. The anger in his face was turning to fear, almost panic. “He’s never gonna trust me again. I can say goodbye to invites to black tie galas and charity balls. All because you decided to fuck some meddling reporter- ”

  “Hey!” Brent said raising his voice so loudly that the bartender and two other restaurant patrons turned to look at them. “This was my choice. You don’t have to bring Leah into it.”

  “Come on Brent,” Marcus said with an eye roll and an ironic laugh. “We both know you can’t resist a pretty face. And you’re too shallow to care about the truth or your history or any of that. No, this is all because of this little slut.”

  What happened next, flew by so quickly that Leah barely had time to take stalk of it.

  In a flash, Brent turned around and punched Marcus in the jaw. The agent reeled back in shock for a moment before giving Brent a small shove of his own. Brent wobbled back but soon found his feet again and threw another punch.

  Before long, Leah was grabbing hold of Brent’s arm and pulling him away from Marcus who was on the floor with a bloody nose. She could see the bartender rushing over to the agent on the ground but she didn’t turn back to take in a full view of the scene.

  She knew she had to get Brent out of there before the cops or anyone else showed up. Quickly, she dragged him outside and back to his red sports car which they’d driven to the restaurant.

  “I’m sorry,” he said as soon as they were outside. “I shouldn’t have- “

  “Don’t worry about it now,” Leah said moving quickly to the car. “We need to get out of here before the police or the out of town press show up. Any place in town they wouldn’t think to look for you.”

  Brent shook his head. “Not that I can think of.”

  “That only leaves my house,” Leah said hoping on the passenger seat of the car as Brent started the engine. “It’s not far from here. I’ll tell you where to go.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  In a moment, Brent jumped on the gear and Leah wrapped her arms around him. As she did, the scene at the bar faded from her mind slightly as she realized that, no matter the circumstances, she was about to go home with Brent Watt.

  Chapter 5

  They pulled up to the small garden home Leah had rented when she first moved to St. Augustine after college.

  “I hope you’re not expecting much,” Leah said apologetically as she walked up to the front door, keys in hand. “It’s just a one bedroom. Nothing fancy.”

  “As long as it’s devoid of my ex-agents,” he said.

  Leah opened the door to a utilitarian living room, donned with white walls a blue carpet and black futon. The kitchen, equally as utilitarian with its tan tile, fed into it. She tried not to think about the bedroom which was just down the hallway.

  “So, I take it Marcus really
did lose his job back there,” she ventured.

  “If I’ve got anything to say about it, yeah,” Brent responded. “It’s up to my brother. But, when I tell him what happened, I’m sure he’ll agree with me.”

  “I still wonder why you didn’t fire that dirtbag years ago,” Leah said.

  “I guess that’s why Marcus thought that his job was safe,” Brent answered. “He didn’t think I had the guts to go against my brother.”

  “Well you proved him wrong,” Leah said.

  “Don’t make me sound like such a hero,” Brent said. “He was drunk and, anyway, he got in a couple good swings.”

  Leah heard him plop onto the sofa. When she turned to him, for the first time, she noticed a small red cut on his cheek. He looked up at her with a self-deprecating smile.

  “He always liked his fancy rings,” he said with a shrug.

  “There’s some rubbing alcohol in the kitchen,” Leah said. “I’ll get it and clean that cut for you.”

  As she turned towards the kitchen, she heard him give out a loud groan as he lifted himself from the couch.

  “You don’t have to do that,” he said “I can- ”

  “I know I don’t have to,” Leah answered. “I consider this payback for the interview you gave me.”

  “Really, I don’t want to put you out.”

  “I had two younger brothers,” Leah answered with a roll of her eyes as she grabbed the bottle of rubbing alcohol along with some cotton swabs from the kitchen cabinet. “I’m used to cleaning cuts.”

  She walked back into the room to find Brent sitting on the couch and staring at his hands. A tinge of pink in his cheeks.

  “And you don’t have to feel embarrassed either,” she said. “From what I saw, the other guy came out much worse.”

  She sat next to him opened the rubbing alcohol and began dabbing a cotton swab into it.

  “That’s part of the reason I’m embarrassed,” Brent said. “No matter what you’ve heard about me, I…I don’t really like fighting.”

  “Yeah, I figured that. Hold still. This’ll sting.”

  He gave her a quizzical look before wincing at the alcohol she’d put on his cheek.

  “I warned you,” she said with a slight chuckle.

  “It’s true, you did,” he admitted. “But, how did you figure it out?”

  “Figure what out?”

  “That I wasn’t much of a fighter? I’ve been trying to play up my macho bad boy side all week with you.”

  Leah gave a little smirk as her silent suspicions were confirmed.

  “I noticed that too,” she said. “But, most fighters wouldn’t put up with their brother telling them what not to say.”

  A pink blush came into his cheeks again.

  “I told you why I did that,” he said

  “I know you did,” Leah answered. “But, someone who liked to fight would still push back against something like that. No matter who was pulling the strings.”

  Leah’s eyes glanced from Brent’s cut over to his face, hoping to gauge his reaction to what she’d said. To her surprise, he was giving her that flirty smile that made her stomach flip.

  “So, you think I’m more of a lover than a fighter, huh?” he asked moving his hand up to touch hers as she continued to dab at his cheek. Now it was her turn to give him a flirty smile.

  “I’d say you’ve definitely proven that this week,” she said.

  “Wouldn’t mind being able to prove it again,” he whispered his lips, once more just above hers.

  “I guess I wouldn’t mind either,” she said. The words had barely left her mouth before Brent leaned down and moved his lips gently over hers.

  This kiss was soft and slow. Very different from the desperate, passionate kisses they’d shared at the country club.

  He moved her hand away from his cheek and gently pushed her down onto the sofa so that his body was covering hers.

  She felt the warmth of his body as she moved her hands against his back. It wasn’t until she reached beneath his untucked shirt and felt the warmth of his skin against her hands that she realized, despite all their fumbling, fast and passionate moments together, she had never felt his body fully against hers.

  “You know,” Brent said, lifting his lips from her collar bone, “I just realized, I’ve never seen you fully naked.”

  “I was thinking the same about you.”

  “Well,” he said, his hands moving to the straps of her shimmering evening gown. “Don’t you think we should change that?”

  Before she could answer, he pulled the straps of her dress down and off her shoulders, revealing the top of her breasts which he kissed gently in turn.

  She lifted her body to allow him to continue slipping her dress down and off her body. Soon, she was left on the couch in nothing but her matching, strapless bra and her underwear.

  “God, Leah, you’re so gorgeous,” he whispered as he reached behind her to unhook her bra. “I’ve been dreaming of seeing you like this since the first night I met you.”

  Leah felt a reply on her lips. Something about the feeling being entirely mutual. Before she could voice it, however, she let out a gasp as the cold air of the room hit her bare breast and was almost immediately replaced by Brent’s warm mouth.

  The heat of his tongue paid homage to one nipple and then the other as her hands moved from his back to nestle in his thick dark hair.

  When he had finished with her breasts, his lips moved down her stomach, his hands roaming the sides of her bare legs. Leah felt a surge rush through her body when she imagined the place that beautiful mouth of his would go next.

  Brent stopped just above her underwear. Through lidded eyes, she saw him give her a sensual smile before hooking his fingers in her panties and pulling them down around her ankles.

  “Oh fuck!”

  She cried out to the room as his mouth licked at her desire. Her hands became fists in his hair, pulling at it as she urged him deeper into her pussy. She writhed and twisted as his tongue expertly lapped her juices, playing her body like a virtuoso playing his instrument.

  She arched her back as she gave one final cry into the room. When she did, he lifted his head and looked at her with a cocky smile on his lips. Determined to wipe that smug expression off, she grabbed his neck and pulled him down for a desperate, passionate kiss.

  As his tongue, still filled with the juices from her release swirled inside her mouth, her hands moved to the buttons of his shirt.

  “My turn now,” she whispered into his ear as she pushed herself up from her position lying down on the couch. Her hands began unbuttoning his shirt, kissing each new patch of smooth, muscled, tan skin that she revealed.

  Brent finally shrugged out of his shirt and Leah pressed herself against his bare chest wrapping her arms around him. The feel of his warm, strong body against her bare skin was better than any quick, dirty hand job she could ever have imagined.

  Lips still pressed together, the two of them soon made quick work of his slacks and boxers. Before she knew it, Brent was pressing her against the couch, his tan, muscled legs tangled with hers. His hands fisting in her hair. Nothing between them. No clothes, no interview and no slick-talking agent.

  Everything had been laid bare. There were no secrets now.

  Tonight, Brent kissed her gently before sliding inside of her. Tonight, it felt different. Like it was the first time it had happened. Leah supposed it was the first time their lovemaking had felt real.

  There was no rush for either of them and it seemed to last forever and only moments at the same time. When she finally released her last cry to the room, mingling with his sighs that came just after, a sense of freedom filled her.

  Brent rolled over and gathered her into his strong, warm arms as Leah tried, as best she could, to get her breathing under control. They stayed spooned together for a long while. Not speaking and hardly breathing at all.

  Finally, Brent broke the silence.

  “So, do you think t
his part will make it into your article?” he asked.

  Leah couldn’t help but let out a loud laugh. Less at the idea of their night together being tossed all over the paper, and more at the feeling of relief she finally felt.

  “I think this part’ll be off the record,” she said.

  “I can give you one final quote for the record if you want,” he said. Curious, she turned around in his arms and faced him.

  “What quote is that?” she asked.