She's Mine: A Billionaire Second Chance Romance

by Kira Blakely

  I nodded. “And that’s not working out?”

  “Are you kidding? Have you seen that family? They are just one freaking hot mess!”

  I continued to stroke her hand as I listened. “I get the idea. So, tell me about your website.”

  “You sure you’re really interested?”

  “I wouldn’t have asked, Harper, dear. If it fascinates you, it must be worth hearing about.”

  “Geez, Bray, that’s a really nice thing to say.” She smiled and touched her finger to her lip and kissed it, then planted that kiss on the back of my hand.

  I continued stroking hers. I don’t know if it was getting to her, but it was definitely getting to me. “So, how did you come up with the idea?”

  “Okay, so I’ve had friends who tried the dating sites and they’re so lame. They’re hangouts for perverts and scammers, for the most part. Lots of people get catfished. I’m sure there are nice people on there, too, but for the most part they play the role of victim. I wanted to do something different, something safe and original. Most importantly, I wanted to do something that worked.”

  I loved the way her eyes lit up as she spoke. It was clear she was really excited by her concept.

  “So, my site has a pay-to-play concept, but it’s per connection. You can look at the photos and profiles others post all day for free. But if you contact them or look to see their personal video, then you pay a small fee. This way, people are encouraged to put videos up that show them in real life, in their home or work environments, with their friends – you get the idea. And if someone is willing to pay to see your video or contact you, then it’s a boost to your ego and you’re more likely to put your best foot forward. Naturally, the people paying are serious about what they’re doing.”

  I watched the animation on her face and wondered about her incentive in doing this. How often had she been on dating sites? The thought made me jealous. I didn’t like the idea of other guys paying to ogle my girl. Whoa! When had she become my girl? “Tell me more.”

  “Huh! I’m surprised you’re interested in this. Okay, well, everyone is assigned an email address via the site and there are private phone lines set up for security. There’s chat, naturally. But there’s one feature I’m really excited about.”

  “And that is…?”

  “With the subscriber’s permission, they turn on their computer camera and over a series of days, when they log in and go through pictures, the camera films their reactions. It uses AI to discern raised eyebrows, smiles, widening of the eyes, nervous gestures, aroused gestures, etc. It stores this data and compares the subscriber’s preferences or dislikes against the database of subscribers. Using this information, it matches people and gives them an automatic introduction. At that point, they can have an online date via camera. Again, it’s all perfectly safe.”

  “Sounds like a winner, Harper. I’m impressed.”

  “Oh, there’s more.”

  “More? Virtual sex?”

  “Oh, no, no… that is strictly forbidden, and they acknowledge they’re being filmed when they agree to the camera service, so they’re monitored to prevent that. What they want to do on their own is their business. We can’t stop that. No, the real information comes in the advertiser products that will line one side of the page. We’ll track the eye and click through reaction of those ads and then have even more information to help advertisers target their customers.”

  “So it’s Big Brother?”

  “Oh, don’t be naïve, Bray, Big Brother is everywhere already. You’re probably being filmed at this very moment.”

  “I know I am, silly. They’re my cameras.”

  “Did you get permission from your guests?”

  I laughed. “Did you notice that little plaque by the door that advised people that security systems were in use?”

  “But that’s not obviously stating it.”

  “Makes the lawyers happy. That’s all I care about.”

  She nodded. “Makes sense. I’m going to have to get really chummy with lawyers after a certain point, I’m sure. First, I’m going to write the code, and later, I’ll look into the administrative side of things.”

  “Maybe that’s something I could help you with?”

  “Aw, Bray, you’re too busy for something like this. Geez, look at all you do.”

  I moved my finger so I was stroking her palm then. “It’s not about being busy; it’s about making priorities.”

  She nodded and looked down at her hand. “I suppose that’s true,” she said, her voice trailing off. I knew I was getting to her and it was making me feel pretty damned good at the same time. I closed my eyes and imagined that the skin I was stroking was at the top of her inner thigh, at the perimeter of her pubic mound. I was completely hard and aching as I thought about her that way. None of the others had ever done that for me. She was the sought-after treasure I’d never gotten. Harper was my drug of choice, and I was willing to bet she didn’t even realize it.

  “May I tell you something I don’t think you know?” I asked her.

  “Sure. Go ahead.”

  Her eyelids were drooping, and I knew she was probably rubbery-legged with relaxation. “I have an admission to make, and you need to understand that this has nothing to do with me trying to sleep with you.”

  “Oh?” That last part made her sit straight up, and I could see her inhaling, getting ready to tell me off again.

  “Hold on, hear me out. Will you?”

  Exasperated, she nodded.

  “I want you to know that I really screwed up when we were in school. I was all sprouting bones and hormones. I did what I thought all guys were supposed to do but I was way off base. The girls I dated after you? They were all easy, had no class, no substance. You were it for me. You were gorgeous, intelligent, ambitious, loving and compassionate and could handle yourself in any situation. When I think about what I settled for, it makes me sick. I should have never let you get away, Harper.”

  She stared at me. “If I’m not mistaken, I think I just heard an apology?”

  “Yes, indeed, you did.”

  A tear dropped onto her cheek. “Thank you for that. I needed to hear that.”

  I felt something strange well up inside of me. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but at that moment, it was more important that Harper be happy and fulfilled than me.

  I couldn’t stand the separation between us any longer. I stood up and pulled her to her feet. “Come here, my girl.” I dragged her from the Cabana and toward my office. I opened the door, flipped on a small lamp and pulled her inside, kicking the door closed behind her.

  I slid one hand up beneath her cascading curls and pulled her head back so I could find her mouth. I tasted her, inhaled her scent and I felt her familiar body accept mine. She fit me perfectly as I lifted her petite body and molded it against me. Her arms went around my neck and she kissed me back, her tongue diving in and challenging my own with swordplay. I collapsed backward onto my office sofa and she clung to me. Her buttons surrendered themselves, and I laid back the fabric to expose her burgeoning breasts. Reaching for the back fastening, she suddenly pushed my hands away. “Don’t!”

  “Stay with me? Please, Harper? You’re not the girl in high school. You’re a grown woman who is extraordinarily beautiful and desirable. You know we need one another. Don’t push me away. Please.”

  She wasn’t angry; she was scared. I believe she was afraid of the woman inside herself. She pushed me away and rebuttoned her blouse. She scrambled up from my lap and paused at my door. “I’m sorry,” she whispered and disappeared through the door.

  Chapter 7

  Harper

  The Bonham children were beating at my door. I’d taken the precaution of activating the safety lock, as well as shoving a chair against the door. There was no way they could get in, unless I let them in. I wasn’t ready to do that. After all, it was 6:30 in the morning and the sun wasn’t even decently up yet. They gave up and left and I rolled over, thinking
about Brayden.

  He had matured. As much as I wanted to crucify him over and over for throwing me away, I had to admit that my carefully-nurtured prejudice was growing thin. He’d had no idea how close I’d come to giving in the night before. If he had, he’d never have let me go.

  I had to ask myself if it was truly Brayden who held such an attraction or was I awakening as a woman and learning that I had value and was desired? Was I finally discovering the possibilities of what life could be like with a partner who loved and wanted your body? Was that such a horrible thing? I knew my mother and father had grown apart. He’d always been a heavy drinker and when he’d stayed out past three in the morning, she knew he would be coming home mean and wanting trouble. She’d lock the doors and windows, bring Stephanie and I into her room with her and we’d pile furniture against the door. Sometimes Dad had broken a window or found a way into the house itself, but he’d never made it into their bedroom. The next morning, we’d find him on the porch or the couch, the stench of vomit and piss wafting from his person.

  I had learned early in life that sex was a bad thing. It made otherwise good people become bad. My dad had been proof of that. Sure, he was drunk when he came in, but he wanted to touch my mother, and she wanted no part of him. That’s why he’d gotten mad; that’s what drove him to leave again that night and not come home until he could barely see straight.

  Their dynamic had a huge effect on me, and I think on Stephanie, as well. While she had been less popular in school, she’d observed all the good girl protocols and as far as I knew, graduated a virgin.

  For me, it had been a little harder. There was something about me that seemed to attract the guys in school. I’d heard their catcalls as I passed where they sat on the window ledge opposite the cafeteria. They congregated like crows on a telephone wire and the girls who wanted to be seen knew that was where they should walk. It happened to begin just outside the girls’ bathroom so a fresh layer of lipstick and heavily brushed hair always bolstered courage to make the walk.

  I’d avoided this as often as I could. Brayden had been my excuse for two years. None of the guys wanted problems with him, so they’d kept their mouths shut or muttered beneath their breaths when they thought I couldn’t hear them. But I heard them, I just didn’t tell Bray what they said.

  Now he had come back into my life. I’d grown up enough to understand that whatever my parents went through, there was no shame in sharing your body with someone you loved. I just never expected to have Bray back in my life. I realized that sounded foolish since I’d come back to the scene of my childhood; drawn like a magnet as I voiced an outcry of denial. I wasn’t fooling anyone, least of all Bray. He knew I could have left the moment I’d discovered he owned Utopia. I could have worked at McDonalds or bunked in with an old girlfriend. But I didn’t. In the same way the girls had gone down the walk, I was parading in front of the love of my life, and yet this time, I was desperately hoping he’d say something that would turn back time and give me a reason to stay. The Bonhams had become those nasty boys I wanted silenced.

  The phone on my nightstand rang. I was sure it was Bernadette, demanding that I present myself immediately for breakfast. I had begun to hate the tone of her voice and as for Ripley, well, the only people I hated more than him were his children. That seemed to be an awful thing to say about kids. But, I was being honest with myself.

  “Hello?” I said in my not-so-cheery good morning voice.

  “Harper?”

  “Bray!” It was hard to keep the delight out of my voice.

  “Did I wake you?”

  “No. As a matter of fact, I was lying here thinking about you.”

  “You were? Was it good or bad thinking?”

  “Do you remember the walk? You know, that ledge opposite the cafeteria where the boys sat and watched the girls walk by?”

  He chuckled. “Oh, yes, I remember. I also remember not seeing you there very often.”

  “I know,” I admitted, looking down at the pale pink sleepshirt I was wearing. Slowly I was picking up my tan again. “You were my protector, you know.”

  “Me? How?”

  “No one wanted to mess with Brayden Campbell. So, they left me alone.”

  “No kidding. Huh. Never realized that. Well, this Brayden Campbell would like to take you to breakfast.”

  “Aw, I can’t, I’m sorry. Bernadette is pretty strict about having the family breakfast together. In fact, I thought it was her when you called. But I’m glad it wasn’t.” I was letting him know that my thoughts about him were changing. I felt as though I was walking on thin ice—dangerous and yet thrilling all at once.

  “That’s too bad. Well, I’ve got a busy day ahead so I’m not able to make plans just yet, but I’ll be in touch. Okay?”

  “Sure. I’ll see you around.”

  I heard the line click and knew he’d gone on to his day and it was about time I did the same. I showered and dressed in a denim mini with a pale pink t-shirt and pink sandals. It was an outfit I loved because it let me wear a skirt and still be casual and comfortable. I was hoping to get in some coding time today.

  Breakfast was like visiting the set of the Addams’ Family. Morticia, otherwise known as Bernadette, announced that the children were scheduled for interviews and a tour of a private school she’d chosen in the city for them the upcoming fall. She would be accompanying them, a fact that gave me overwhelming joy. Both kids were less thrilled, knowing that it meant dressing up and being paraded around like purebred dogs, when at best, they were mongrels. I had a suspicion that the kids knew their parents were phony, pretentious and grasping. Kids seemed to have the cleanest radar about human behavior, perhaps because they had yet to learn the art of guile. Their mother had it down pat.

  That left me with time to myself, and I went back to my room and changed into my red bikini; this time with a terry robe cover-up. I grabbed my laptop and headed downstairs, watching through the window as Bernadette appeared with two glowering children and climbed into a waiting limousine. Ripley was nowhere in sight.

  The pool was a gorgeous area, characterized by a series of waterfalls that created grottos of heated water for deep muscle relaxation and intimate conversation. The open pool was actually a series of five pools, linked by these waterfall grottos. Each had an in-water bar where guests could rest on stools and be served their favorite beverage, as well as a limited selection of appetizers. One pool was reserved for children, decorated by brightly-colored cartoon characters as slides and an in-water carousel, putt-putt water golf and volleyball. The children were not permitted in the adjoining pools, allowing the adults to have a less hectic, more intimate environment.

  I had dragged a lounge chair beneath the shade of a large umbrella, giving me the ability to see the laptop screen easily. Talking about the website to Bray had re-instituted my excitement and the code was rolling off my fingers at an accelerated pace. I had the bare bones of the backend functionality done by noon and closed the laptop to take in some sun and ordered lunch from a passing waiter. He brought my fruit salad and chicken sandwich promptly, and I sipped the iced tea with a spring of mint slowly. After eating, I reclined the chair flat and put on my sunglasses.

  I picked up my phone and went through my contacts. Strange, but I only had my sister, Stephanie, left in the world and yet I didn’t know her phone number. I scrolled down to find it and tapped.

  “Steph? It’s me. Can you talk for a few?”

  “Well, look what the cat dragged in. I thought I might have to put out a reward for you,” Steph snipped at me.

  “Oh, don’t be like that. I told you I was moving home but it took some doing. I wasn’t exactly floating with money and opportunities.”

  “Okay, okay, so are you back now?”

  “Yes. I got a job as a nanny.”

  “No shit? You? Oh, that’s rich. Hang on…” There was a bell tinkling over the line and then I heard Steph say, “Hi, how are you today? Have a seat and I’ll be right
with you.” A little more shuffling noise and then she was back to me. “Look I have to go, my one o’clock is here.”

  “Can you meet me for lunch on Thursday?”

  “Let me see… okay, sure, where?”

  “Utopia. It’s on me, just ask for me at the front desk.”

  “My, my, you sure know how to nanny, don’t you?”

  “I’ll see you on Thursday?”

  “See you then.”

  She disconnected, and I relaxed back in the chair. It had been good to hear her voice, and I was looking forward to catching up. As my big sister, she’d taken it upon herself to take my mother’s place. I knew I would catch some disapproval from her at first, but it was worth it. She was all the family I had.

  I closed my eyes, remembering some of our childhood. We’d not been as close as we could have, the difference in our ages emphasized by Steph’s motherly attitude, but still, we’d had fun times.

  I had almost dozed off when a shadow fell over me. I opened my eyes. It was Ripley. I felt myself stiffen.

  “Can I help you with something, Ripley?”

  He smiled that smarmy way he had and pulled up a chair next to mine. “I’ve been looking for you.” He looked down the length of me, his eyes pausing at my breasts and crotch. I recoiled, sat up and pulled my towel over me.

  “Is something wrong? Are the kids back early?” I asked, giving him the benefit of doubt.

  “No. No, it’s just you and I.”

  I pulled the towel tighter and higher. “Well, not really, Ripley. There are a lot of people around us. What is it then?”

  “I was thinking that maybe you needed a bigger salary.” His hand reached toward me, and he began stroking my thigh.

  “Don’t do that, Ripley. Keep your hands to yourself.”