And then I opened my eyes.
There was someone out on the path staring in.
It wasn’t like they had poked their head in; it’s just that the angle where they were standing allowed them to glance in and get a peek. Not much, but enough to see what was going on.
There were two people, actually, but I only saw the woman first.
She was probably about my age, and she was beautiful. She had black hair, with pretty features and big green eyes and tan skin. She was wearing a bikini top that barely covered her. She had a slim, Pilates-sculpted stomach, with a kind of sarong wrapped around her hips and a tiny diamond bellybutton piercing.
She looked like she’d been a popular girl in school – one of the beautiful people.
And she was staring at me, watching me in the throes of passion.
And I could see, despite the shocked expression and her mouth being slightly open –
That she wanted to be me.
She was looking at me with wonder, and jealousy, and longing.
Maybe it was the back of Connor’s head, or the broad, powerful shoulders, or his perfect ass in his $5000 suit… but I could see her look him over, and then at me, and I could see that she wanted to be exactly where I was.
There was a guy with her, too – a good-looking guy, kind of a rock-n-roll dude, with tats on his muscular arms and an Adam Levine haircut. Before I’d met Connor, I would have said he was insanely hot. Now he was just pretty good-looking by comparison.
He was grinning ear to ear as he stood holding his girlfriend’s hand.
But I didn’t look at him long.
I returned to her eyes, watching me, wanting what I had.
If you had asked me before, I’d have said I would freak out if someone caught us.
Instead, it was like I stepped outside of my body and saw me the way she saw me:
As the luckiest woman in the world.
And I figured something else out:
…I kind of like being watched.
A little.
Thank God it was a woman my age.
But instead of it throwing a wet blanket over me – instead of my pushing Connor away frantically – I just stared into her eyes, and I felt the ecstasy building in me again as I felt him thrusting deep and thick and powerful inside me.
My eyes fluttered closed, then I opened them as I moaned – and I saw rock-n-roll dude pull her away, obviously inspired to go start a little mischief of their own.
She stayed as long as possible, though, her eyes locked on mine, occasionally flitting away to Connor, to his body, then back up to me – and then her boyfriend pulled her out of view.
The last thing I saw was her eyes looking into mine, and the jealousy and desire and longing behind them.
Then they were gone.
I clutched Connor as hard as I could again and wrapped my arms around his neck.
I heard him groaning as he approached his climax, and I felt my own build up again to a fever pitch.
Then he cried out in my ear.
Hot wetness burst inside me, and as he continued to groan with pleasure, I came again, too – hard, fast, hot, wet, full of light and bliss and sweet, overwhelming contractions that left me trembling and weak in his arms.
I clutched his head and ran my fingers through his hair. I leaned against his neck, and I could smell the warm musk of his cologne, taste the salt of his sweat.
“Thank you,” he whispered in my ear, grateful and sated and sane once again.
I kissed his ear and licked him softly, then whispered back as cocky and devilish as he would have: “You’re welcome.”
He laughed, pulled his face back to look in my eyes, and then kissed me, softly and romantically.
We arranged ourselves as best we could – sweaty, messy, and disheveled – and then walked back to the car, hand in hand, occasionally sharing a brief, stolen kiss and a laugh or two.
I didn’t see the woman on the way back.
And I didn’t tell Connor about it.
I don’t know why, exactly… except that it was something I wanted to keep for myself.
30
We got back to the hotel safe and sound, though I basically looked like a hot mess. Not even the Lamborghini’s air conditioning could cure that. Bird-nest hair syndrome and streaks of sweat everywhere. Thank God my new dress was black, or there would have been some pretty unattractive stains showing.
Connor looked great. He wore the sweaty and disheveled look like a movie star in a big action thriller, where you know some makeup artist has touched up the beads of perspiration dewing his brow – because nobody looks that good after running five blocks through New Orleans in the summertime.
Except Connor did.
Okay, so we weren’t in New Orleans. And we hadn’t been running. But you get the picture.
He attacked again in the private elevator to the penthouse floor.
I let him kiss me – let isn’t the right word, exactly; blissfully gave in is closer – but pushed him away when the elevator bell dinged.
“I feel disgusting,” I moaned. “I have to go take a shower. Immediately.”
“Soon as we walk through the door, we’ll head on in,” he said as he took me by the hand and led me down the corridor.
“‘We’?” I asked, trying to be as coy as possible.
“You don’t think I’m going to let you hog it all, do you?”
“Oh, is that all it’s about.”
“Mmmm… that’s part of it.” He stopped me halfway to the penthouse door and pushed my back up against the wall.
My heart quickened as he leaned over and paused seductively just a few inches from my lips.
“What else?” I murmured as I lifted my chin, getting closer to those amazing, oh-so-kissable lips.
“If I’m going to be starting a solar energy company that’ll revolutionize the world…”
He paused as he stared me in the eyes.
“…I should probably conserve water, too.”
“UH!” I yelled, and pushed him away as he laughed. “You want to save water, take a two-minute shower alone!”
He pinched my bottom and I yelped.
Memo to self: get underwear back. As far as I knew, it was still in his pants pocket.
Then I slapped his hand away.
“Ohhhh no, you ain’t gettin’ none o’ that!” I said in my best oh no you di-int! voice.
“I think I will,” he grinned as he followed me.
“Dream on, Mr. ‘Let’s Conserve Water.’”
He caught me again right in front of the door and spun me around. I fought him (not really), but his strong arms circled around my waist, pulled me against his body, and then he pressed his lips against mine.
I struggled for about two seconds – and then sank into the kiss.
I swear, it had to have been the pheromones. Sweaty or not, he smelled irresistible.
After about ten seconds, he broke it off and pulled out a keycard, then inserted it in the slot. “We’ll go in and take a shower… together… right after I finish getting reamed out by Johnny for ditching him again.”
Oh crap, that’s right.
In the crazy afternoon smorgasbord of sex – phone, car, and outdoors – I’d totally forgotten.
My stomach did a sick little flip-flop as I anticipated the angry reception waiting for us.
Connor swung open the door to the penthouse –
Speak of the devil.
Connor’s bodyguard was standing right in front of us, staring us down, before we took a single step inside. He was dressed in his customary dark suit, but without his sunglasses, so we could get the full impact of his scowl.
“Although I didn’t expect him to be waiting at the door for me,” Connor said, as though to an invisible audience. Then he pointed at me. “It’s all her fault.”
“My fault!” I cried out, turning to him. “I didn’t – ”
“Connor,” Johnny said in a strangled voice.
I turned back to Johnny and realized I’d misinterpreted his expression.
I’d thought he was angry – with us. With me.
Instead… he looked worried.
Really worried.
“What is it?” Connor asked, suddenly concerned.
“I’m sorry… I tried to get him out, but…”
Johnny trailed off without finishing the sentence.
I had a bad, bad flashback to The Empire Strikes Back, right before Lando Calrissian betrays Han and Leia to Darth Vader.
(Yes, I’m a nerd.)
Someone walked into view on the other side of the room. A man, very tall and very imposing, wearing a black business suit and a dark blue tie. He was older, probably in his late 50’s or early 60’s, but his broad shoulders and solid chest made him look powerful enough to take on someone half his age. Though his silver hair was receding up his forehead, he was still incredibly handsome, with a chiseled jaw, strong nose, and cruel lips.
In fact… he looked unsettlingly familiar.
“Hello, Connor,” he said in a dark bass voice.
I looked up at Connor, who gave a little smartass smirk, like Great. Just great.
“Hello… Dad.”
31
About 17 different things were going through my mind at this point.
First and foremost was one word:
Crap.
Crap, crap, crap, crap, Crap, CRAP, CRAP.
‘Meeting The Parents’ is stressful under the best of situations.
It’s even worse when you’re standing there sweaty and rumpled after just having had kinky sex with their son.
Oh, and you’re not wearing any panties, either.
Yeah. So. Not at my best at that particular moment.
Second thing:
This is Connor’s father?!
This is the guy who cheated a nine-year-old at Monopoly?!
I peered even more closely at him.
If you are a huge nerd like me – or even if you’re not – perhaps you’ve watched Game Of Thrones. If so, then you know who Tywin Lannister is. He’s the badass, grim, ‘totally lacking in empathy and the milk of human kindness’ patriarch of the Lannister clan. He is played by Charles Dance, who has a gravelly voice, dangerous eyes, stands about 6’ 3”, and is one of the sexiest men on the planet over age 60.
This guy looked a lot like Charles Dance. Sounded a bit like him, too, without the British accent.
I usually like guys my own age – well, give or take six years in Connor’s case – and am not attracted to older men. Except in a few, very specific cases.
Go to Youtube and search for ‘Charles Dance 50 Shades Of Grey.’ Go on. I’ll wait.
Still waiting.
Seen it? Yes, it’s a hilarious clip, especially when he’s doing Anastasia’s voice. But when he does Christian’s?
‘Yeah… that’s what I thought.’
Daaaaaaaamn.
And the fact that this was what Connor would most probably look like in 30 years?
Not bad. Not bad at all.
But there was a problem.
Like Tywin Lannister and the other villains Dance has played, this guy embodied the worst possible qualities:
The arrogance.
The coldness.
The total lack of empathy and kindness.
He looked exactly like someone who would crush his kid’s dreams to teach him some sort of effed up lesson about ‘the real world.’
And then would go to work and destroy real people and real lives to add another $100 million to his bank account.
He dressed just as expensively as Connor did, if a bit more conservatively. And he exuded wealth, privilege, and power.
It was like a king or an old-time lord had walked into the room… and not a particularly nice one.
Just like Game Of Thrones.
He was tall as Connor – maybe even a hair taller. His eyes were the same piercing blue. And he had the same powerful build.
But he had none of Connor’s warmth. None of the mischievous charm.
Just cold, grim power.
Third thing:
Connor had greeted him like somebody seeing their deadbeat dad for the first time in months… but who had been expecting him to show up. No real surprise in his voice. Just irritation and a bit of fatalism, wrapped up in Connor’s smartass humor.
Fourth thing:
I noticed for the first time that there were other people in the room. Like, a lot of them.
Well… compared to normal.
Four tall, powerfully-built men in suits and sunglasses stood guard over the four corners of the room. They were silent and stone-faced, their hands folded behind them. They looked for all the world like Secret Service agents standing at attention.
Connor’s dad had apparently decided to err on the side of caution after Mexico.
I could see why Johnny hadn’t been able to clear the room before we arrived – though I couldn’t for the life of me figure out why he’d let them in in the first place.
But that question, along with a bunch of others, got answered in short order.
32
Connor strolled past me, completely at ease, as though finding his father and a bunch of hired goons occupying his hotel room was just another day at the office.
I snuck in behind him, trying to stay as inconspicuous as possible as I smoothed down my dress. Johnny closed the door behind me.
Connor stopped about ten feet away from his father. The lack of a handshake or a hug was glaringly obvious – at least to me.
“I’d ask what you’re doing here, but I’m pretty sure I know the answer.”
“I would wager you do,” the older man said.
“So I’ll just ask the obvious question: what are you doing here?” Connor asked as he pointed at the floor. Then he looked back at Johnny. “I thought I paid you to keep out the riffraff.”
“Don’t be too hard on Mr. Inaba,” Connor’s father said drily. “The management was kind enough to let me in before he arrived.”
I looked around at Johnny.
He grimaced in pain, as though his professional pride had been bruised.
“I’ll have to speak to them about that,” Connor said.
“Don’t bother. I’m better friends with the owner than you are. I was expecting you back about an hour ago, but…”
Here Mr. Templeton tilted his head slightly to look around Connor – at me.
The disdain on his features was subtle, but brutal nonetheless.
“…apparently you got delayed.”
I could’ve sworn he put an extra emphasis on the last syllable… like de-laid.
My face flushed scarlet.
It didn’t faze Connor in the slightest, though.
“Oh – I’m being rude. Lily, this is my father, Augustus Templeton.”
Augustus. Just like Caesar.
Fits him.
Connor turned back and looked at me. His expression was slightly bemused. “Dad… Lily Ross.”
Mr. Templeton’s disdain suddenly became a lot less subtle. “Scraping the bottom of the barrel, are we?”
I was so shocked I couldn’t speak for a second.
Nobody had been that rude to me since –
Well, since Herr Klaus.
Maybe my last encounter with him had made me a bit more resilient, because when I spoke, I sounded furious. “Excuse me?”
But Connor had my back.
“Keep a civil fucking tongue in your head, Dad, or I’ll have you removed, friends of the owner or no.”
The old man smirked – a colder, meaner version of the expression I was so used to seeing on Connor’s face. He looked only at Connor, and not at me, as he spoke.
“Forgive me, young… lady…”
The knife-twisting pause he inserted before ‘lady’ let me know he didn’t consider me anything of the sort.
“…I have an unfortunate knack for speaking my mind.”
Connor gave a brief, unamus
ed grunt. “Don’t worry, Lily – he’s an asshole to everybody.”
“Just not as crude as my son. Or as stupid.”
“So – what are you here for, besides trading insults?”
“To try to dissuade you from the utter idiocy of your current course of action.”
“What, you mean me continuing to listen to you?”
Mr. Templeton glanced at me before speaking. “I would prefer to continue this conversation in private.”
“No need,” Connor said, and I could hear the smile in his voice, even though I could only see his back. “Lily knows all about the desert. And my meetings with the governor and the congressmen.”
For the first time, Connor’s father looked surprised. Shocked, even – which is what I guess Connor was aiming for.
Mr. Templeton looked at me again, as though reassessing who I was.
As the lady on the GPS says, ‘Recalculating…’
Then he seemed to reach the same conclusion he’d had when I walked through the door.
“You really shouldn’t expose all of yourself to the… hired help,” he sneered.
At that, Connor lost it.
“That’s it. Get the fuck out, now.”
“Calm down. I was merely suggesting that she’s your… employee.”
By the tone of his voice, he most certainly meant hourly employee.
And one hired down on the street for something not legal, even in Las Vegas.
“I know what you’re suggesting,” Connor fumed. “Fuck you. Get out.”
“So she’s not your secretary? Or your personal… assistant?” Templeton asked, putting his own snide spin on the last word.
“Lily and I are dating.”
My eyes bugged out and my heart did a triple-flip.
I knew we were… well… I knew something was going on… but to hear him say we were ‘dating’…
It almost made it worthwhile to put up with his king jerk of a father.
The old man scoffed. “You’ve come down a ways since Miranda.”
Miranda?
I didn’t even care about the diss.
Who’s he talking about?
Connor shook his head angrily. “You know what? You can insult me – fine. You insult her? Fuck you and get out.”
4 The Billionaire's Seduction All That He Requires Page 14