ROMANCE: Billion Dollar Question (BWWM Billionaire Bad Boy Romance) (African American Alpha Mail Order Bride New Adult)

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ROMANCE: Billion Dollar Question (BWWM Billionaire Bad Boy Romance) (African American Alpha Mail Order Bride New Adult) Page 11

by Aisha Brooks


  She smiled back and Mr. Arthur himself felt his hands grow sweaty. There hadn’t been many times in his 30 years that a woman had such an impact on him, both physically and inspirationally. He found her honesty and ability to overcome all the odds that had ever been stacked up against her like a row of wicked dominos both compelling and sexy. She had a secretive aura to her that made him want to explore every inch of her, physically and emotionally. She had a sweet and gentle face, but could see the hard look of determination set within her deep, dark eyes.

  “Oh yes, Mr. Arthur, I handle myself just fine,” she answered confidently and he knew this to be the truth. He had always found it hard to resist a woman who was so self-assured and aware of herself, her body, her beauty, and, most importantly, her ability to achieve greatness.

  He guided her to her office, which was only a bit smaller than her living area in her apartment. She sat back in the leather seat and began work immediately, determined to make this man proud of her and to admire every aspect of her being.

  Chapter 5: Building A Career

  Alicia flourished at her new job, and at the end of the first few months, she had been named Employee of the Month by the Business Council. The other new hires were obviously jealous, but Alicia, despite just being beautiful, was the only one who came to work early and stayed late.

  Alone, she had already managed to pitch seven ideas that clients loved so immensely, that they referred their friends to her, and so she had the luxury of hiring on two new clients herself. Mr. Arthur was both ecstatic and impressed.

  She found herself staying late, not only to work, but hoping that Mr. Arthur would offer for her to come into his office, and together they would discuss ideas and clients, her on the long leather couch and he at his desk, pounding away at their keyboards, making phone calls, and ordering takeout.

  At first, she had felt that she had to be overly professional at all times, due to her age and lack of experience, but as they began to spend every evening together, he would kick off his shoes and invite her to do the same.

  One night over takeout, he had suggested that they sit and talk, and forget about work over a meal. She had secretly hoped that, in some ways, this was a date, even though she felt foolish thinking so.

  “What’s your story, Mr. Arthur?” she asked as they ate Chinese food, chopsticks in hands.

  “Please Alicia, call me Ross, just like everyone else here does.” He had untied his tie and his suit jacket lay on the floor. He looked so casual and simple, and she took a moment to fantasize that they were actually act her place, coming home together after a long day at work, discussing their days.

  “I know you keep telling me to, but…it feels wrong.”

  “Try it.”

  “Okay, Ross, tell me your story,” she tried the name out in her mouth, tasting the sweetness of calling him a name that his friends and past lovers had called him. His name rumbled in her mouth and on her tongue and she loved the feeling of it. He smiled, his deep eyes shining every time he opened his mouth to show off his impeccably white smile and two deep dimples in his cheeks.

  “Well, I’m not sure I have much of one, or one that is really all that exciting. I grew up with a mother and a father, in an incredible neighborhood with a tremendous education system. I went to Duke, always knowing that I would take over my father’s business one day. My story, in all honesty, is filled with opportunity that was handed to me, that I know most people don’t get. I am not ashamed by it, but it’s not as impressive as yours.”

  She loved his honesty, his ability to be both privileged but aware of the fact that most people weren’t given these opportunities, and to acknowledge someone who had less than him; these things made him stick out to her during the nights she couldn’t sleep, and she found herself imagining what it would feel like to kiss his full lips, their hands embracing one another, bulldozing social class and race barriers.

  She caught him glancing at her at times in a way that made her heart flutter. She saw the way the other women looked at him around the office, but he didn’t seem to acknowledge them at all. He looked at her physically, and acknowledged her emotionally and professionally, in ways he didn’t do for anyone else.

  She found herself, at night, fantasizing about the two of them making love in his office, his broad chest above her, her laying across his glass desk, his sweaty hands leaving prints on either side of her head on the desk. She imagined his dark eyes peering down into hers, those wisps of hair falling over them, as he guided himself inside of her, her inching her skirt higher and higher, wrapping her legs around his pelvis.

  “We’ve been working hard for quite some time,” he voiced later that night. She had nodded in complete agreement. “Maybe it’s time for us to go out and treat ourselves…celebrate all the success we’ve had since you’ve come on board here. You’ve really impacted this company in such a large way, Alicia. Truly,” he said the last word carefully as he looked up and gazed at her. She felt his eyes penetrate into her own, and she had to look away due to the intensity and vibration that was growing between them.

  She felt torn; there was nothing more than she desired than this man before her: well educated, a go getter, like herself, and devastatingly handsome; a man you could turn to in times of trouble and he would save you, carry you away in his burly arms, and Alicia was a girl who had never been saved before in her life. She felt woozy around him, like she had indulged in one too many glasses of wine. However, she also knew how hard she had worked to get where she was, and she couldn’t let anything jeopardize that. He made her feel safe, something that she hadn’t felt in a long while, if ever and she felt she was safe in sharing her emotions and feelings for him, but was still quite hesitant to do so.

  “Sure, that sounds nice.”

  “Strictly professional, of course,” he blurted out, a bit too quickly. Ross, too, felt torn in his professional duties and where he knew his heart lay. He had never met a woman quite like Alicia before; a beauty with an attitude and work ethic to match, he was what he and his friends would call a “total 10.”

  It was hard for Ross to date and meet women; he felt many of them too simple minded and, many times, distracted by his billions. Yet, in stark contrast, here was a woman who could actually use his money to better her life, and yet not once had she inquired about it as other woman “casually” did around the office.

  Instead of asking him questions about his money, she did what she had to do to make her own, and she did it well and modestly. Her hard life had not worn her down, through it all, she still allowed for peace, calamity and trust to be expressed across her face, within her deep brown eyes, like a message waiting to be read.

  “Yes, yes of course,” but Alicia knew that the quickness of his answer gave way to the truth in his feelings; that he too felt as she did and she smiled slowly, engaging his eyes once more before deciding that on Friday, they would enjoy cocktails and seafood.

  Chapter 6: More Than A Meal

  Not only had Alicia never been on a date to such an upscale restaurant (one, in fact, that most needed to make reservations with months in advance, unless, of course, you were Mr. Arthur), but she had never been on a date with such an upscale man. She was worried about what to wear and how to do her hair, how to speak, and what to order. She then quickly reminded herself that what he liked was her, and so she slipped into a fitting black dress, her heels, and applied dark red lip which sat beautifully upon her skin.

  He had picked her up in his BMW, Alicia at first embarrassed by where she herself lived, but it didn’t seem to bother Ross at all. He got out and opened the door for her, quickly glancing at the view as she leaned into the car, admiring her long and muscular calves.

  When they arrived to dinner, they ordered and within the hour had shared an appetizer, had their meal, dessert and a bottle of wine. Their conversations were flawless and comfortable. They began by discussing the importance of the job, the ups and downs, what Alicia felt best at and what her goal
s were, but then it quickly turned into a recount of their histories, their lives, even past lovers.

  “I’ve had such a lovely time tonight,” Alicia said confidently. Ross looked down at his hands, seemingly nervous, something he never was, and then reached up and took her hand between his. She was startled and jumped a bit, taken aback by this gesture of intimacy. Her reaction made him stumble.

  “I’m sorry,” he said quickly, and she grabbed his hands back.

  “No. Don’t be.” She saw his eyes grown warm and they kept their hands clasped together.

  “I have to be honest with you. I realize that this” he motioned with his head to their hands, “could have real consequences for the both of us.” She began to say something but he shook his head, “just let me get this out, please. You are the most significant woman I have ever met in my entire life and I would be foolish to let an opportunity like this pass me by. All of this,” he waved around with his hand, leaving hers for a moment, gesturing towards the restaurant but indicating his life, “isn’t anything when I don’t have anyone to share it with.” She felt tears well in her eyes; he was verbalizing everything she felt, and she had never been with a man who had this pull on her, who could make her cry or even feel as joyful and bliss as he did. She nodded.

  “Ross, I feel the same way. I have spent my life fighting a battle that I feel like I’ve finally won…to have such an amazing man by my side would just mean everything to me.” And with that, without any hesitation on who might see them, his bravery shone through like a vibrant sun ray peering through the summer clouds as he leaned across the table and kissed her, pressing his full lips firmly against hers. She grabbed his head in her hands and kissed him back, fighting the urge to move across the table to get better leverage.

  “Can I take you back to my apartment?” he asked, breathless. She nodded vigorously.

  Chapter 7: Foregoing Boundaries

  Ross had held Alicia’s hand the entire ride to his apartment and they had discussed all that their actions would mean, professionally and otherwise. She had leaned over while he at a stop light and kissed him, opening his mouth gently with her tongue and inviting herself into his mouth. He kissed her back, passionately and openly.

  When they got to his apartment, Alicia was awestruck, but tried to not let it be shown to Ross so obviously. The apartment was filled with marble floors, vaulted ceilings with gold chandeliers, a maid who had left him a note on his granite countertops, a wine cellar, a view of the entire city and, what she would’ve been the most pleased with, air conditioning that didn’t require a box in the window.

  “This place is absolutely gorgeous,” she mentioned. He had handed her a glass of chilled champagne and smiled.

  “It can be lonely too,” he mumbled as he came closer to her. His innocence and loss was endearing to her and she realized then that this was something her life was abundantly rich in, life and company. Together, they could each provide the other with something they struggled with; coming together like two mismatched socks that still worked increasingly well and stood strong together.

  He kissed her strongly again and lifted her up, carrying her into his bedroom, her champagne still in hand. He laid her down softly upon the bed, a bed so welcoming she felt she could sleep for days there, and she placed her drink on the nightstand. He stood above her and began taking off his suit jacket and unbuttoning his white button up. She sat back and watched, each masculine and strong hand revealing more and more of his chiseled and tan body.

  When he got to the last two buttons, she brought her hand up and undid them for him, kissing from his navel up to his mouth. They kissed, hot and breathlessly, months of sexual desire pent up between the two of them, he unzipped her dress and slid it off her effortless. She leaned down to take off her heels, but he stopped her.

  “Leave those on,” he said as he winked; she obeyed. She slid her hands over his body, working her way to his pants and unbuckling his belt quickly and efficiently. She pulled him down on top of her and he slid off her bra, placing each breast in a hand and then his mouth, kissing softly and sucking slightly. She leaned her head back onto the pillows and moaned in pleasure. He kissed from her breasts, down her stomach until he propped himself between her legs, and raised them both, guiding himself into her with his tongue, her voice ringing out in pleasure and her body shaking and contracting in ways that other men had never made her experience before.

  She looked down at him and his deep brown eyes looked up at her and smiled. She ran her hands through his thick, luscious hair and then pulled him up, placing her legs on either side of him. She sat on top of him, guiding him slowly inside of her and nuzzled her face into his neck.

  “Now I’m in control,” she whispered to him harshly, and he smiled, placing his hands around her waist, feeling her as she guided herself back and forth on top of him. She wrapped her hands around his behind her back. Together they picked up the pace, moving quickly, their bodies and sweat and lips and saliva and tongues coming together until her final thrust made each of them cry out in pleasure and they each rolled back onto the bed, out of breath.

  “Spend the night here,” he said to her as he ran his hands through her hair. She reached for her glass of champagne and took a long, slow swig.

  “I can’t walk into work with you tomorrow,” she said matter-of-factly. He shrugged.

  “I don’t care who knows about us. We have something special, a bond,” he pointed out. She nodded, agreeing, but still a bit hesitant.

  “I have to refuse to work directly under you, then,” she said, and he admired her honesty and insight, and nodded.

  “Of course, if that’s what you think is best. I can move you to another wing, have you work under Mrs. O’Leary if you’d like.” She loved the sound of this; Mrs. O’Leary was a strong woman who spoke up and voiced her opinion in the office, with no qualms or apologies whatsoever.

  Conclusion

  Quickly, she became a part of his world. He would take her to fancy dinners and professional basketball games. They would fly out to Hawaii for a weekend and make business deals on the flight.

  However, he also quickly became a part of her world. He came over and fixed her electricity what it went over, had dinner with her at her mother’s house, meeting her brothers and bringing them to the Bulls games as well. He’d walk with her, hand in hand, down the block she grew up in, sporting sweatshirts and jeans, which she always found endearing as she knew he preferred to be dressed properly. He offered many times to her to move in with him, or get her a nicer place, but she refused. Her roots stood strong within her, and she was stuck to her ground like an old oak tree.

  Together, their lives wove together like an old quilt and she draped it around them, forgetting the outside world. He taught her about comfortability financially and emotionally, and she taught him about unconditional love. Their love making was exceptional; an act that made it seem like the task had been made for just the two of them; two worlds always colliding in ways that left them each breathless and desiring more each and every time.

  They built their lives and business around each other, successful in both, and Alicia, finally, could take a deep breath, supported by someone in her life that grew his oak tree next to hers, on the same ground, yet each tree with a different history with different branches and blemishes… both rooted in the same soil, still both trees for eternity.

  Game Changer

  A BWWM Romance

  This deliciously dirty story is a part of Aisha Brooks’ super-charged, highly lewd collection of love and lust, written in 2015. Those who attempt to steal any part of this goldmine and take it as their own risk being a fiery, hot death from a hunk bearing copyright notices—and she’s not about to play with you.

  This is a work of fiction—although we wish that people like this really existed, it’s nothing more than a figment of a very, very overactive imagination. Any resemblance to someone you know, a place you love or a thing you hold dear to your heart is not
hing more than a craving in your heart that these carnal desires and actions were true!

  It goes without saying that this book oozes with erotic sex appeal, and is filled to the rafters with a smorgasbord of acts that you certainly wouldn’t tell your grandmother about. Bodice-ripping, panty-dropping and glasses-steaming, the scenes contained herein are wickedly naughty!

  Although all the saucy characters are flirting with forbidden desires and sometimes taking the naughty fruit they really shouldn’t be, all are consenting adults over the age of 18 and not blood-related. What they are is passionate and eager to explore their carnal desires all day long.

  In short, this book is going to get you very, very hot!

  © Aisha Brooks

  All Rights Reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any many whatsoever without the express permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locations is purely coincidental. The characters are all productions of the author’s imagination. Please note that this work is intended only for adults age 18 and over. All characters represented are age 18 or over.

 

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