“Put me down. Now!” I barked back at him.
I kicked furiously and pounded his muscular back, my eyes all the while riveted on his in-my-face perfect ass. It was futile. He was already marching back into the sea, giving me no choice but to enjoy the ride. And the spectacular view. Blood rushed to my head. I felt tingly hot when I should feel chilled against his cold, wet body.
In the near distance, I could hear Ben laughing his head off again at the sight of us.
“Ben, tell your dad to put me down,” I called out to him.
The water up to his waist, Ari retorted, “Forget it, Saarah. I like it when you’re all wet.”
Before I could say another word, I was flying in the air and, seconds later, thrashing beneath the frigid water. I alternated between gripping my bikini bottom and skimpy top, fearful the sea would claim them.
When I resurfaced and was able to regain my balance, Ari was standing right beside me, now chest-deep in the water and holding Ben in his arms. He clasped my hand, and we began jumping waves, each one bigger than the one before.
“The waves are so big!” squealed Ben.
Ari squeezed my hand and shot me a smile. “The bigger, the better.”
Waves of desire mingled with those of the sea and I thought: The more, the better.
The monster waves licked my clit as I jumped them, making me long for the erotic sea of waves this man could drown me in. As I brushed up against him, I wondered what the rest of this weekend would bring.
Ari spent the rest of the afternoon inside the house, catching up on business-related matters while I decided to spend it with my sketchpad at the pool. Ben swam about in the water under the watchful eye of Vadim, who I was convinced was some kind of bodyguard. Just as I pulled out my sketchpad from my satchel, Ari’s sister took the chaise next to mine. She was wearing a black bandeau one-piece bathing suit that was cut in a way that made her long, lean legs look even longer, and a large, stylish, floppy hat. The latest issue of Vanity Fair was in her hand. Good. She was going to read. I wouldn’t have to talk to her and could do some sketching. At least, that was what I thought.
“My brother seems to like you,” she began, her tone cold and calculating.
“We get along,” I replied coolly. And we fuck really well together.
“You’re the wrong kind of woman for him.”
Her tone went from cold to cutting. Each word was a knife to my heart. I was glad I was wearing the Ray-Bans so that she couldn’t see the hurt in my eyes as she continued.
“He needs someone mature, independent, and with class. Someone who can take an active role in society, host dinner parties, and know what private schools are best for his son.”
His mother. He already had one and didn’t need another. Anger was rising in me like bread in an oven.
Her eyes narrowed into sharp slivers of glass. “I’d like you to consider dropping him, and I will make it worth your while.”
Was she bribing me?
“Help!” The word sounded loudly in my ears before I could respond.
Gwen jumped to her feet. “Oh my God,” I heard her mutter.
My eyes darted to the pool. Ben was in the deep end, flailing his arms. “Help!” he screamed again as his head sank under the water.
Vadim, fully clothed, was in the water too, swimming toward the child at Olympian speed. I held my breath while Gwen, truly terrified, cupped both hands over her mouth.
My eyes didn’t blink once as I watched Vadim pull the limp child out of the pool and onto the concrete. His mouth pressed against the child’s mouth as he pumped his large hands against his slender chest. My heart was in my throat…and then the little boy squirmed and bolted up. Gwen and I breathed out loud sighs of relief in unison.
“Oh, God. He almost drowned once before.”
“How?” I asked, my curiosity getting the better of me.
“His mother took a combination of sedatives and alcohol and fell asleep out here. While she was out, Ben fell into the pool; he was only a toddler. Had Olga not been bringing out lunch, we would have lost him.”
I digested her words. The picture of Ari’s ex-wife was getting clearer and clearer in my head. What other terrible things did she do to Ben…and my Adonis? Loathing for this woman was seeping through my veins.
Within seconds, Ben was back to his playful self, high-fiving Vadim.
“It looks like he’s okay,” I commented.
Turning to me, Gwen narrowed her incendiary eyes. “Sarah, my brother needs someone responsible. You’re just a child who throws temper tantrums in restaurants and wants to play with toys.”
Her words stung me like the wasp buzzing around me. She had no clue who I was. Or what I was capable of…literally no idea what I did to take care of both my mother and myself.
“Consider my offer, Sarah. I’ll draw up a contract.” She rolled up her magazine. “And one last thing, please don’t tell my brother about this incident. Ari would rather die than lose that child.”
She stalked back to the house, leaving me with decisions to make.
When I got back to the house, I learned that Ari was taking me to a cocktail party at the home of one of his clients. Gwen was staying put, looking forward to a quiet evening with Ben and Olga’s homemade pierogi for dinner. After our run-in this afternoon, I was glad she wasn’t coming along.
Before I headed back to the guesthouse to shower and change, Ari whispered in my ear. “Wear the jeans and a T-shirt. And the only panty line I want to see is that of your tan.”
No panties. No bra. No surprise.
Returning to my quarters, the first thing I did was call my mother again. Fortunately, this time she picked up. I inwardly sighed with relief. Though she sounded weary, it was good to hear her voice. I told her I was at the beach; she was pleased to hear that I was enjoying myself. I didn’t tell her I was spending the weekend with a stranger I met on a train. After I said goodbye to her, I immediately called Mrs. Blumberg and asked her to feed Jo-Jo. She had a spare set of keys to my apartment, allowing her access. Of course, the busybody wanted to know where I was. I told her I was visiting a girlfriend. She didn’t believe me and went on about the dangers of going away with men you didn’t know. “Didn’t you read in the papers about that poor girl who got stabbed to death by some meshuganah she met on the Internet?” Rolling my eyes, I told her to stop worrying, that I was fine.
I thanked her for taking care of Jo-Jo and hastily bid the naysayer goodbye. It was time to get ready for the party. I stripped off my clothes and headed to the bathroom.
The shower—with its state-of-the-art massage showerhead—was divine. But lonely. As the hot, pulsing water poured over me, kneading my muscles, I fantasized about Ari sharing the shower with me. Closing my eyes, I arched my head. I could see his face—those sexy, sapphire eyes—and feel his hard body against mine, his hands soaping me up all over. The space between my inner thighs ached for his thick length. And the stroke of his long fingers.
Craving his stimulation, I rubbed my soapy hand over my mound—stimulating my clit just like he did it. Pleasure? I wasn’t sure. I needed to come, and the only way I could was by imagining him. The orgasm came quickly, but not with the magnitude, endurance, or insane ecstasy he could give me. I was only placating myself, compensating for the emptiness I felt inside me. Masturbation had its place but not its glory.
As I dried myself with a thick, fluffy towel, my cell phone rang. Letting the towel fall to the tile floor, I ran out of the bathroom stark naked, thinking maybe something bad had happened to my mother. When it came to my mother, my mind always jumped to the worst-case scenario.
Hands shaking, I picked up the phone, which I’d left on the nightstand in the bedroom. The caller ID said “unknown caller” which freaked me out more. Maybe it was a doctor from the hospital calling.
“Hello,” I said, my voice quivering.
“Sarah.”
I recognized the shrill voice immediately. A sigh of relief was fo
llowed by a huff of disgust. It was my demanding boss—Catherine Sinclair. Why the hell was she calling me on a Sunday night, let alone a three-day weekend? I scrunched up my face as she continued.
“I’m just checking in to make sure you booked my trip to Nuremberg for the International Toy Fair.”
“All done,” I lied through clenched teeth. The damn Toy Fair was over a year away.
“And I can assume you got me first-class tickets and a suite at The Four Seasons?”
“Yes.” Sheesh!
“I want to extend the trip. After the convention ends, I want to go to Milan to do a little shopping. So be sure to add that to your ‘To Do’ list.”
“I assume you’ll want to stay at The Four Seasons?”
“Seriously, do you really have to ask? I don’t like it when you waste my time.”
And I don’t like it when you waste mine, I seethed silently.
“I will email you a list of the designers with whom I want you to book appointments. And while I’m there, I want to visit my hairdresser, Adolpho, so squeeze that in too. I expect everything to be taken care of by the time I walk into the office on Tuesday.”
“Of course.” Seriously?
“That’ll give you plenty to do over the rest of the weekend.”
My blood curdled. I already had plenty to do over the rest of the weekend and it had nothing to do with work. Or her.
“Are we clear?”
“Yes,” I mumbled.
“Good.” Once again without thanking me, she ended the call.
God, I hated working for this skanky bitch. She was a total slave driver—and an incompetent one—with no appreciation for all I did for her. There was only one saving grace. A least it was a job taking me one step closer to my dream of creating toys that would give joy to boys and girls. If only that could happen sooner than later.
Seething mad, I set my cell phone back on the nightstand and inhaled a deep breath to let go of the rage that was spiraling inside me. As I got dressed, my head spun at the prospect of going to a party in the Hamptons with my Trainman and the night ahead.
It was only a five-minute drive to the gated oceanfront house where the party was taking place. Unlike Ari’s New England-style cottage, this one was a spectacular Downton Abbey-like brick manor house surrounded by formal gardens, greenhouses, and stables. After valeting the Bentley, we were led to the vast backyard. About two hundred people sipping cocktails milled about. They were all perfectly tanned and chicly dressed, the women mostly wearing sophisticated sleeveless dresses and the men in jackets. Everyone oozed sex and money, and I felt out of place in my jeans and T-shirt.
As we ambled through the crowd, Ari turned heads. He was wearing white linen drawstring pants and a V-neck T-shirt that showed off his bronzed skin and biceps. I swear every woman was looking at him although Ari seemed oblivious to their stares. Holding his hand did not alleviate my anxiousness. Who knew better than me the effect this heart-stopping sex god could have.
“There’s my client,” said Ari, glancing to the right. “I need to spend some time with him.”
Breaking loose of my hand, he strutted in the direction of a debonair, silver-haired man clad in khakis and a navy blue blazer.
Please don’t leave me. I felt intimidated, surrounded by all these beautiful people I didn’t know and who were definitely way out of my league.
Ari needs a woman who is mature and independent. Ari’s sister’s words whirled around in my head. Okay, Sarah, plain and tall, be a big girl and mingle.
I snagged an hors d’oeuvre from one of the white-gloved waiters who were passing them around and strolled over to the bar. Maybe a glass of wine would loosen me up.
“I’ll have a glass of Chardonnay over ice,” I told the bartender.
“Sarah!”
My eyes popped. The raspy voice behind me was familiar. So familiar. Holding my wine, I spun around. Standing in my face was my best friend Lauren, dressed to the nines in a tight strapless dress that hugged her curves and matched her six-inch-high strappy stilettos.
We hugged and said it at the same time: “What are you doing here?”
I let Lauren answer first. “This is Taylor’s parents’ house. Remember, I told you they were throwing an impromptu cocktail party to celebrate our engagement?”
Some “impromptu party.” With the white-gloved staff and elegant décor, it looked like it had taken months to plan. I couldn’t even begin to imagine the scope of Lauren’s wedding as she asked for a glass of champagne.
Taking a sip of the bubbly, she flashed an auspicious grin. “And I bet you’re here with—”
“Yes, Ari,” I said, cutting her off. And then I remembered that Taylor’s father owned the largest chain of drug stores in the country. Of course, he must be one of Ari’s biggest clients.
“You’re next,” beamed my BFF, flaunting her boulder-sized engagement ring. The diamond sparkled under the moonlit sky.
I rolled my eyes and took another sip of my wine while Lauren chugged her champagne.
“Listen, I’ve got to go and spend some time with Taylor’s parents’ friends. I’ll catch up with you later. I want to hear everything.”
She sauntered off, strutting in her mile-high heels as if she were born wearing them. In the corner of my eye, I glimpsed Ari. My heart skipped a beat and my wine glass almost slipped from my hand. He was talking to a gorgeous blonde, who looked like she could be a movie star. One of his women? Or someone he just met and was hitting on? A mixture of jealousy and anger ripped through me. I thought about marching up to them—“Oh, hi, I’m Sarah, Ari’s girlfriend”—and then refrained. First of all, I wasn’t Ari’s girlfriend (I’d known him for all of forty-eight hours) and secondly, maybe I was jumping the gun and letting my insecurity take hold of me. Maybe she was just an acquaintance. Or an old friend. I was nonetheless miffed that he had left me alone, stranded for such a long time, and was ignoring me. Maybe he was testing me. To see how independent I was. To see if I could survive his crowd of movers and shakers.
And then, just as I got a grip, he took her in his arms and smacked a hot kiss on her lips. I’d seen enough. Draining my wine, I fled and thought about calling a cab. But where would I go? I sure as hell didn’t want to go back to his house and have an ugly confrontation with Gwen. Then, I thought about the train station we’d passed on our drive but doubted trains were running back to the city on a Sunday night in the middle of a holiday weekend. And I certainly couldn’t afford a cab ride into Manhattan. Right now, I just needed to be alone. With tears brimming in my eyes, I escaped the party, running aimlessly through the vast property, passing formal gardens, a tennis court, guesthouses, a pond with swans, and ending up at the pool area. The shimmering pool was surrounded by chaise lounges and off to the right was a lit-up pavilion.
Emotionally drained, I leaned against the pavilion and gazed up at the starry sky. As clear as the night was, I was in a thick fog. Yes, here I was at a glamorous party in the Hamptons with a gorgeous billionaire that I’d met only a couple of days ago, but I was just arm candy. As exciting as my life had been since I met him, loneliness and apprehension assaulted me. Even jealousy and insecurity came out of hiding. He had fucked a lot of women. I was just one of them. This man did not want commitment. And I, Sarah Greene, did not want to get hurt.
For all I knew, he would be going home with the stunning blond tonight. Maybe not fucking her in his bed, but fucking her somewhere. He was a player and that’s what players did. Tears pricked my eyes as I watched a shooting star rocket across the darkening sky. I didn’t need this. I had too much on my plate as it was, between my ailing mother and my demanding job. Before the weekend was over—maybe even tonight if I had the chance—I was going to end it. Tell him the truth that this “relationship” wasn’t right for me, that I needed more…someone who adored me and could be supportive, get me through this challenging time. Unbearable sadness swept over me. Who was I trying to fool? I was smitten by this man. Helplessl
y, hopelessly falling in love with him. And his little son. The timing was all wrong; that’s what it was. Fate fucked me over when I ended up sitting next to him on the train. As much as I longed to be in his arms, it just wasn’t meant to be. The tears that were threatening to fall could no longer be held back.
As I brushed them away, a familiar man’s voice startled me. “Hey, babe. Fancy meeting you here.”
I turned my head. My bleary eyes squinted at the husky male form about twenty feet away. It was Lauren’s fiancé Taylor, staggering toward me with a drink in his hand. His eyes were glazed, his lids hooded. He was drunk. Very drunk. I had seen him this way before way too many times.
“Watch’ya doing here, Sarah?” he mumbled as he stumbled up to me, slurring each word.
“I’ve got to go…head back to the party.” I hurried the words, pondering an exit strategy.
“What’s the rush, sweetheart?”
Before I could take a step, he pinned me hard against the stucco of the poolside pavilion. His hips pressing tightly against mine, he leaned into me. His warm breath reeked of alcohol. Whiskey? Gin? Vermouth? I was no expert.
“You look fucking hot tonight,” he breathed into my face, his fetid breath nauseating me.
I tried to wiggle myself free of him, but even in his drunken state, ex-football star, Taylor Hodges IV, was too strong for me.
His lips parted, and I was prepared for the worst as they moved in close to mine. Ugh! He was kissing me, his slobbering mouth all over mine. I squirmed as his tongue darted out and forced my lips to part. It rolled around my palate, its foul taste making me feel even more nauseated than I already was. His hands groped my breasts as his hips gyrated into mine. A hard bulge, growing between his thighs, dug into me through his chinos. I continued to resist him, but the more I struggled, the more forceful he became. I wanted to scream. I wanted to run. Oh God, get him off me.
“What the fuck?”
I knew that voice too. Ari! Oh God, what was he going to think?
In one swift move, he yanked Taylor away from me, sending his cocktail tumbler crashing to the ground.
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