Taken by Him: A Billionaire's Club Story

by Red Garnier

  Phillipo appeared ecstatic, but Gary, who was still at her side, was the opposite.

  “Excuse me?” Gary said in a high-pitched, annoyed tone of voice. “Phillipo, go get her a soda,” he said pointedly.

  “Want something to drink, sugar?” Phillipo asked her, his gaze falling to her lips.

  “Just sparkling water if there’s any, thank you, Danny,” she retorted.

  He smiled at her and lingered for a moment longer, as if he couldn’t bear to leave her, not even to fetch her a soda.

  When he finally left, Peyton was so nauseous over her own actions that she had to ask where the ladies’ room was. After Gary’s mumbled explanation through the orgasmic shouting woman inviting everyone to PARTY!, Peyton headed toward the hallway she assumed he’d meant.

  She opened the first door but found herself in a spacious, dark closet. There were shelves stacked with boxes of all sizes, and a neat row of coats at the far end. She turned to leave but smacked into an expanse of unyielding male chest and before she knew it she was thrust into the darkened room with a bigger, stronger body, the door slamming shut ominously behind them.

  Luke’s scent assailed her. Powerful. Drugging.

  And her anger whipped upward like a cobra.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” she hissed in outrage.

  Her eyes strained to see him in the dark, but his scent was as familiar to her as her own, and for a moment it made her dizzy.

  “What do I think I’m doing? You’re at my fucking party,” he angrily hissed as he took a threatening step toward her. An innate survival instinct made her instantly take a step back.

  “It’s nice to see you again, Luke.” Her tone dripped in sarcasm. “At least now I get to see the real you.”

  He took another step forward, and the move urged her to start backing away from him with more fervor. There didn’t seem to be enough air in the tiny little room for both of them, but she still fought to bring air into her lungs, breath by breath.

  “What the hell are you doing here, Peyton?” he demanded.

  “The whole city is here. Why can’t I?”

  He caught her arm and squeezed, backing at the same velocity as she. “Because you’re too damned good for this. You look like you’re ready for dinner with Hillary Fucking Clinton. Why the hell are you here? Don’t you see you don’t fit here, damn you?”

  The rage was eating at her insides so fast and deep, she barely checked the impulse to hit him. She’d never been so angry or so jealous in her life.

  Gritting her teeth, she shoved his hand away, struggling to keep her head on her shoulders and her voice level. “I’m sorry, Luke. It seems like it was just getting interesting for you, with two beautiful ladies just for you, and here I come just to spoil your fun!”

  He laughed darkly. “Is that what you think was going down here?”

  There was a long silence, and Peyton almost burst while trying to keep it, but she just couldn’t keep quiet anymore. “You lied to me, you…you bastard.” Her voice betrayed the hurt she felt, and she hated it. But she just had to say it. It had been in her mind constantly, torturing her senseless for the past weeks.

  “You lied to me, too.” His voice was gruff and low, and it had dropped several notches as he kept approaching.

  His blue-gray eyes gleamed in the darkness, and the mere nearness of his body made that place between her legs sting in remembrance.

  “I didn’t lie to you!”

  “Yes, you did. You said it didn’t matter.”

  She stopped backing away when she felt the heavy long sleeve of a wool coat brush her shoulder. She absently pushed it aside, her eyes lingering on Luke’s shadowed face. “It doesn’t!” she cried. “But if it didn’t matter, you could have at least been honest with me…You’re not a beach boy, Luke. You don’t do ‘this and that’ like it’s nothing.”

  “So what if I’m not? It doesn’t change things.”

  “You introduced yourself as Luke Alexander!”

  “Because it’s my fucking name!”

  “You’re of the Chicago Prestons, Luke. That’s not nothing in my book. You’re richer than most countries!”

  “So what the fuck is wrong with that?” Luke had stepped so close, he was invading her personal space with his towering form, and Peyton was having trouble catching her breath. She could hear his patience was being tested, his voice sharp around the edges and almost…dangerous. “The last thing I was looking for that weekend was another woman, and yet, there you were…determined to sit in that fucking chair, weren’t you, Peyton?”

  She pressed back against the wall of coats, inwardly cursing the dead end. “A mistake I will never make again, so will you let me pass now?” She tried to move but he blocked her path.

  “I know what you’re trying to do.” His hard chest pressed against her breasts, and his face inched too close for comfort. “And it’s working.” He slowly fumbled with something around his waist. “I’m jealous, Peyton. So fucking jealous, you don’t even have a minuscule little clue.”

  She heard the rustle of fabric, and a soft thump when something hit the floor. He was fast, for before she even realized he’d dropped his jeans to the floor, his hands were already pulling up her skirt and in an instant she heard something tear. She gasped, frozen in place, when she heard another tear and realized he’d just torn both her hose and panties.

  “I don’t like that bastard drooling all over you.” His hands cupped the sides of her bare buttocks and squeezed them hard, his fingers and thumbs digging into her tender flesh. “Especially when I’ve already staked my claim.”

  “Luke, don’t—”

  “Shh, I’m just going to remind you, sweetheart, because it seems to me like you’ve already forgotten me,” he said in a tone that promised to punish her.

  His fingers sank into her buttocks and pushed her belly against his very large, very naked cock, at the same time he lowered his angry, dominating mouth to hers.

  Peyton couldn’t explain why she twined her arms around his neck and returned his kiss with such abandon. She couldn’t see why her tongue pushed frantically, desperately against his while she moaned helplessly into his warm, angry mouth. She clung to his neck while his hands went to the back of her thighs to lift her up, and she wrapped her legs around his waist and tightened her hold on him as he lowered her onto his hard, throbbing erection.

  There was no hint of the lazy, cocky summer boy she’d met less than a month ago. This man wanted to possess, wanted to take, wanted it now, and he thrust inside her with the furious force of a battering ram.

  Peyton threw her head back and cried out at the glorious feel of him filling up her body so high and so wide she could burst from the fullness. She’d ached for him—every day for the past few weeks had been hell without this, without him.

  His lips dove to her neck and scraped desperately over every inch of skin, his tongue tracing a wet, thirsty path toward her chin as he thrust and rammed inside her.

  “I can’t think of anything but you, woman.” His breath was hot against her neck. “I’ve fucked you ten thousand times in ten thousand different ways in my mind already.”

  “I’ve thought about you, too,” she whimpered, her fingertips sinking into his buttocks as she clawed him to get closer, fuck her harder, push deeper.

  The sensations built steadily, and her heart felt ten times its size inside her chest. Her sex was tense and terse around his cock, grasping his every powerful stroke.

  “You’re driving me crazy, Peyton, and I don’t like it, not one fucking bit.” His lips ground over hers in furious, uncontrolled passion. She whimpered into his mouth as his thrusts became more frequent, his teeth biting into the flesh of her lower lip almost viciously.

  It had been too long without him.

  Too long.

  Not days or weeks but a lifetime…her lifetime.

  “Luke, oh, ohohohoh!” She came fast and violently in a rocking, earth-shattering orgasm, trembling in hi
s arms as he kept on plowing inside her, harder and faster, his butt muscles clenching in her hands until he tensed and cursed and exploded inside her.

  For moments later, they held each other, unmoving, their breaths haggard. Peyton was the first to lower her feet to the floor and push him away, trying her best to find her ground.

  She lifted her torn panties from the floor and pursed her lips when she realized she would have to go without underwear until she got home. Not to mention, her hose was torn from the knees up and she’d have to remove it if she hoped to look even moderately decent.

  Disgusted at herself, she fled to the door, but Luke’s voice stopped her as he zipped back up. “Peyton, wait.”

  She froze in place but refused to turn, still too shaken. Too…too…angry. At herself. At him.

  Luke engulfed her hand with his, yanked open the door, and led her deeper down the corridor.

  She tugged her hand futilely. “What are you doing? Where are you taking me?”

  With one quick, reassuring squeeze, he pulled her into some sort of empty private lounge, then he urged her down on a plush leather sofa. “Wait here and let me get rid of all these idiots.”

  She scowled at his muscled back as he shut the door behind him, because the last thing she wanted to do tonight was to stay here and talk to him.

  There were hundreds of emotions inside her; complicated, raging feelings she hadn’t expected, all brought about by seeing him, by discovering what type of man he really was. All she knew now was that coming here had been the worst idea she’d ever had in her life. Second maybe only to sleeping with him, which had been the biggest whopper of them all.

  But then, she had wanted to see him again, hadn’t she?

  Wanted to kiss him again, touch him again. Wasn’t that what she’d secretly hoped would happen tonight?

  Only she’d never imagined she’d find him in such a party. In an undressed state. About to have a threesome or an orgy or Lord knows what.

  She opened the door and headed for the bathroom, this time finding it at the second door to the left. When she finally returned to the living room, there were at least a dozen new people inside, and some guests were already naked. And “getting it on.”

  “WELCOME TO MASTER LUKE’S PARTY, LET’S GET DRUNK AND GET IT ON!”

  Luke stood with a group of people, speaking while pointing at the doors while the women vied for his attention, and then his eyes passed through the hallway the same second Peyton appeared.

  They spotted each other instantly.

  Peyton immediately tore her gaze free and plunged into the crowd. She could feel his eyes follow her as she wound across the living room, and out of the corner of her eye, she could even see him begin to chase after her.

  Unable to bear another encounter with him, she wildly, frantically searched for Gary to tell him she was leaving.

  “You were gone just five minutes and I already missed you,” said Phillipo, taking her hand in both of his. “I lost your drink but I’ll get you another one. One with alcohol.”

  “The lady’s taken, man, so I suggest you not touch her.”

  Peyton’s heart tripped at the chillingly possessive, achingly familiar growl.

  She hadn’t heard Luke approach, but now she definitely noticed him. He stood a few feet away from where she and Phillipo stood. Large and intimidating, his stance was wide and threatening, his jaw tightly clamped. At his sides, his knuckles jutted out of his fists, and Peyton had never seen such a blazing look of jealousy in his eyes before—hell, in any man’s eyes before.

  Her chest felt like a crushed soda can, and her nerves jumped in alarm. She cleared her throat. “I was just saying good-bye, Luke. So if you see Gary please tell him I took a cab.”

  “She’s not taken, man, she’s been coming on to me all night,” Phillipo said, and Peyton wasn’t going to stay here and argue.

  She spun around to leave, but Phillipo seized her shoulders and forced her to turn back. “Come on, my lovely Audrey, please stay a while longer, I promise I’ll behave myself.” He winked at her and gave her a toothy smile, and his hands slid down the sleeves of her jacket in a slow, soothing motion. “I want to hear all about what you do, okay?”

  “Keep your fucking hands off my woman, asshole!” Luke thundered.

  Phillipo dropped his arm when he was yanked around with tornado-like force, and Peyton dashed away just as she heard something hit the floor behind her with a heart-stopping thump.

  “Get back here, Peyton Lane!”

  It was Luke who shouted her name, and the icy rage in his voice made her turn.

  Her heart kicked violently when she realized Luke had just pounded the other man to the ground! Phillipo lay sprawled on the floor, shaking his head as though completely brain-whacked. Suddenly she saw Luke storming forward and her lungs burned for air, and if she heard the orgasmic woman in the background shout to get drunk and get it on a single time more, Peyton was going to puke.

  “I won’t say good-bye—since we both don’t like it. So I’ll just…see you, Luke.” She stormed out to the elevator before he could grab her, and she hoped to hell she didn’t break down and cry on her way down.

  Chapter Six

  As she hurried down the sidewalk, Peyton heard Luke’s angry voice behind her, snapping into what she assumed was his cellular phone.

  “Graves? Man I have a shitload of people in my fucking place and I need your help getting the place vacated, stat!…Hell, send a bomb threat or shit…Yeah, yeah, that’s fine, thanks, you’re a pal, man.”

  Scowling as his voice approached, Peyton clutched her coat to her chin while the cold night wind slapped her hair around, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t walk faster than she already was, and within seconds Luke was at her side. He grabbed her elbow and spun her around. “What part of ‘wait here’ don’t you fucking understand, babe?”

  She glared at him and yanked free. “So? Were those all your buddies who saw my butt picture?”

  His diamond stud earrings glinted mockingly in the streetlights. God, could she have ever believed they weren’t real? They were probably the only thing that hadn’t been bullshit about him!

  “They’re just the assholes I party with when my friends are busy.”

  Holding her gaze snared within the depths of his, he stretched out his open hand, quietly summoning her to him.

  Peyton didn’t want to think of how the mere sight of him disintegrated her. Of how she wanted to pull up his sweater and lick all of his tattoo. Of how her heart ached so badly that his mere presence tore her apart. She was hurt, shaken, and confused far beyond what her mind could even process.

  She started backing away, needing distance from him, from the way she throbbed, physically, at his nearness.

  His eyes ignited like a panther’s. “Pretend that you don’t miss me.” He signaled to her, and then to himself, as he advanced. “Pretend all you like. But you and I both know you came here for me.”

  “I only came to tell you to your face what a fucking manwhore you are!”

  He caught her before she could retreat any farther, his firm hold on her sleeve burning her skin through the fabric. “Curse me if it makes you feel good, Peyton, I don’t give a shit. You’re angry because you’re dying to get the exclusivity, and guess what, woman? You’ve got it. It’s yours. It’s been yours since the day you begged me to have a fling with you, and it’ll be yours until I’m dead.”

  Peyton swatted off his hand. “Hah! You seemed very happy tonight planning your next orgy!”

  Luke jerked her against him so hard, she gasped, his eyes unmistakably proprietary on her face. The feral clench to his jaw and the possessive glimmer in his eyes made Peyton’s insides spin with all sorts of swirls of wanting. He had never looked at her this way before. Never.

  “You were the one being pawed tonight, baby girl,” he said, low and threatening as his eyes practically gorged on her lips, “and the next time you try that shit with me, I won’t be s
o forgiving. I’m going to break the fucking man’s bones into bits so tiny he’ll never be able to be put back together, and I won’t even get into all the shit I’m going to do to punish you. You’re mine, Peyton. No one touches you but me.”

  Her insides heated at the intensity in his eyes, drowning her in those blue pools of desire. Afraid how her knees had become butter, Peyton lowered her voice to a pleading whisper. “Luke, please. We should stop this right now. This has disaster written all over it.”

  He cupped her cheeks, his violently tender eyes boring into hers. “We work, Peyton. You and I. This relationship is the best fucking thing that’s happened to me since I was born—”

  “The only relationship we seem to have is that you fucked me, just like you did the rest of the city, so that’s about as exclusive a group as a Yahoo e-mail account. Now, good night, Luke!” She whirled around and started walking, and he laughed behind her.

  “Ah, God. I really didn’t want to have to do this.”

  Before she knew it, he’d thrust her up onto his shoulder like a potato sack and headed back to his building as a stampede of people shuffled onto the sidewalk.

  Gasping as the blood started pooling in her shocked brain, Peyton kicked the air and slammed her fists into his impenetrable back. “Let me go, Luke! Are you crazy?”

  “About you, yes.”

  He shoved through the crowd and into the lobby, and then pressed the up arrow on a different set of elevators that were off to the east and totally empty.

  Peyton squirmed furiously as they boarded, gasping and screeching in outrage, until Luke set his palm on the curve of her ass and rubbed it meaningfully. “I’m getting real fucking turned on here, Peyton, so by all means, keep up the fight, baby.”

  “Put me down, Luke!”

  “As soon as I can pin you down underneath me.”

  “I don’t want you anymore.”

  He slipped his hot, splayed hand under her skirt, up her inner thigh, and Peyton became brutally aware that she no longer wore hose or panties. “I can easily prove that you do. Yep. You do.”

  “You son of a bitch!” she fumed.