“You swear to me that you’re not going to try and pull a fast one on me?” Sienna still looked doubtful, and I smiled.
“Scout’s honor, I won’t try and make a move unless you make one first,” I said, holding up two fingers in the old salute. Sienna snorted and grinned, and just like the first night I’d met her, her eyes crinkled up at the corners.
“As long as you promise me,” she said. The waitress came with the check and I didn’t even look at the total before putting my card in the little folder. I signed the receipt, added a 30% tip, and tucked the copy in my wallet, without letting Sienna even glance at the total.
“We can take my car,” I suggested, as we walked through the lobby to the entrance of the building. “Let me just call my driver, and he’ll bring it around.”
“Sounds like a plan,” Sienna agreed. I got my phone out and instead of calling, I texted, telling him to meet me out front of the building. It had finally cooled off a bit outside after a sweltering day, and I could see Sienna was a little chilled from the change in temperature.
“Want my jacket?” I started to unbutton it, but a voice calling out interrupted me.
“Bobby! Bobby baby, it’s me,” a woman called, and I heard high-heel footsteps approaching. For a minute I thought it was one of the chicks I’d hooked up with recently, and I dreaded having to explain something like that to Sienna. The woman that approached us was no one I had ever seen in my life, though; and more to the point she wasn’t one I thought I’d end up hooking up with even if I had. She had teased, crispy-looking blonde hair and enormous fake breasts--not my type at all. She was dressed in a tight, form-fitting dress that I was sure probably cost a couple hundred dollars, but it was definitely more designed to reveal than to cover.
“Who the hell are you?” The woman frowned, or more accurately pouted.
“Bobby, don’t you remember? Zairah! I know you remember these, at least,” she said, cupping her breasts and leaning towards me.
“I have never seen you before in my life,” I told the woman. “I don’t even know how you know my name.” I looked at Sienna, and she was definitely not pleased with this development.
“Last month! Don’t you remember what you said? You said you’d take care of me, and then you just ghosted me after a week,” the woman, who I was convinced was probably a stripper or an escort, pouted even more dramatically.
“I have never made any promises like that to anyone, and I have no idea who you are,” I insisted. I turned to Sienna. “I swear to you, I have no idea who this woman is.”
“She seems to be pretty convinced you know her pretty well,” Sienna pointed out.
“Oh he does,” Zairah said. “We spent three nights together and then went on another date about a week later.”
“But you just said I ghosted you after a week,” I pointed out.
“After that,” Zairah said firmly. “We had the two dates, and then a week after the second one, you ghosted me.” I shook my head.
“Look, just move it along, can’t you see I’m with someone?” I gestured to Sienna.
“If you have something you need to discuss with her, then I can call myself a cab,” Sienna said.
“No!” I glared at the woman who’d walked up to us. “I have never even met this woman before.” I wasn’t confused anymore, I was annoyed; and starting to get angry, even. I hoped the car would be around soon, hopefully before Zairah--or whatever her real name was--convinced Sienna that I’d proposed or something.
Chapter 12
“Well I mean if you like her better, just wait to see what I can do working as part of a team,” the woman said, wiggling her upper body a bit. Okay, if she’s telling the truth then Bobby has some pretty...interesting taste in women, I thought.
“Look, lady,” Bobby said, and I could tell he was agitated; I hadn’t really thought there was anything other than the usual posturing in his first denials, but this was more than just him being embarrassed by a less-than-ideal woman he’d hooked up with in the past coming back to haunt him. “I have never seen you before in my life. I don’t know how you know my name, but we never had one date, let alone all that stuff you’re talking about.”
“Well if we didn’t, how would I know about that mole on your hip?” I snorted at that. Unless Bobby had developed a brand-new mole within the last five years, she was making it up. I’d seen every part of Bobby Clawson naked; he hadn’t had a mole.
“That was a brave try, Zairah,” I said. “But you just showed you’ve at least never been naked with him.”
“What?” The woman scowled, wrinkling her over-painted eyebrows at me.
“Bobby doesn’t have a mole on his hip,” I told her. “I would know.”
“Bitch the hell you say,” Zairah shouted. I looked at Bobby, wondering just how the woman had ended up cornering him outside of one of the most prestigious clubs in the whole city. How had she known he was there, and what was the point of coming at him like that?
“Drop the act, hon,” I said. “Whatever blackmail scam you wanted to run on him isn’t going to work.” The woman let out a growl and lunged at me. She spit in my face, and from what I could see in the moment she had a needle--probably used--in her hand, ready to stab me, but Bobby intercepted her, grabbing her around the waist.
“Call the cops, they should come pretty quickly considering the address,” he said. I nodded and got my phone out of my purse. I got emergency services on the line and quickly told them what was going on.
“Look! Look, I’ll leave you alone, but just don’t call the cops,” the woman was saying. Probably a sex worker, then.
“Let me just get this from her,” I said, nodding to Bobby as he struggled to keep a grip on the woman. She still had the weapon in her hand, and I managed to pry her fingers open after a couple seconds’ effort. As a nurse, one of the things I’d learned how to do was get a patient to let go of something they didn’t want to let go of--usually patients in altered mental status, but sometimes just assholes. The syringe fell to the ground and I saw it was the kind of needle that diabetics used, but I doubted that Zairah, or whatever her real name was, used it for that. It was just that they were cheaper and easier to get than regular hypodermics.
Bobby had been right: two officers rolled up to where we were waiting, with Bobby’s driver on standby, within fifteen minutes. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t old Zairah--or are you going by another name these days?” The officers didn’t look all that surprised to see her.
“I’m assuming she’s known to you guys, then,” Bobby remarked.
“Yeah, she’s a pistol--whole department’s aware of her,” one of the officers replied. “Let’s hear what we’re going to be booking her for tonight.”
“Assault and battery, for starters,” Bobby told them, and we explained what had happened: her attempt to wheedle Bobby, the way she’d gone nuclear on me.
“Probably going to get possession of drugs on her too,” I said. I nodded to the needle that I’d left on the ground. “She tried to stab me with that--unless she’s a diabetic, there’s probably trace in there, and probably a stash on her too.”
“We’ll search her once we get her to the station,” Officer Talbot told me. The other officer, Haroldson, bagged the needle as evidence. “Nurse?” I nodded. “We don’t want to spoil your night out, so if you can come in tomorrow to give an official statement?”
“I can definitely do that,” I said.
“We’ll go ahead and book her tonight. We’ve got enough evidence to charge her,” Haroldson said.
“Do you want an escort home, or are you okay?” I smiled.
“I’m not that shaken, thanks,” I said. “And I think we’re both safe with Bobby’s driver.”
“Off we go then, Zairah,” Talbot said, leading the handcuffed sex worker away. “Have a nicer rest of your night, folks.”
“You’d probably rather I drop you off at home, huh?” I looked at Bobby.
“Right now I feel like
I want a shower and to not have to recount the events of the evening to anyone else,” I admitted. I took my phone out of my purse again. “Just let me call Mom and tell her I’ll be home in the morning.”
“Wow, okay,” Bobby said. I smiled at him.
“Really I just know that if I go home Mom is going to want to know everything, Tanya will probably wake up and then I’ll have to tell her something--and of course I can’t tell her what really happened--and then get her back to sleep. Just way too much trouble,” I explained. I called my mother and just said that I had had a bit too much to drink, and I would be sleeping over at Bobby’s place.
“Well it’s about time you got a social life,” Mom said. I snickered.
“Mom, he’s a billionaire, his house has like thirteen guest rooms,” I told her.
“Just remember to be safe, and let me know when you’re coming home in the morning,” Mom said. I ended the call shaking my head.
“I actually only have a handful of guest rooms at my place,” Bobby told me as we got into the back seat of the car together.
“Whatever, she’s not going to quiz me on architecture,” I countered. Bobby snickered.
It took twenty minutes to get to his place, and while it wasn’t some sprawling Beverly Hills palace, it was definitely a much nicer house than I could ever even imagine living in: gated, with an obviously professionally maintained garden, landscaped yard, and three stories. I kicked off my shoes as we stepped through the door, and shook my head.
“Just think, if things had worked out differently about five years ago, you might have ended up here,” Bobby said. I snorted.
“I am not going to believe for a second that if you’d managed to see my note and remembered to call me five years ago, we’d still be together now,” I told him. Of course, you would still have gotten pregnant with Tanya either way, and when he inherited he might have thought it would be a good idea to move you and his daughter in...but he doesn’t know. “You aren’t even ready to settle down now, I doubt you’ve been ready at any point in the past five years.” Bobby shrugged.
“Maybe if we’d been more than a hook-up, I’d have gotten ready sooner,” he suggested. I shook my head again.
“I don’t think that’s the case at all, but you’re sweet to suggest it,” I told him. “Show me around, why don’t you?”
He didn’t have to tell me that a professional--probably a few professionals--kept the place up on the inside, just as they did on the outside. A guy like Bobby wasn’t going around making sure the floors were mopped and the entertainment center was dusted. He showed me the kitchen and I thought about how my mother would have envied it, the pool made me think about how Tanya--if she’d ever had the option--would have wanted to spend all summer in it.
“This is the master bedroom,” Bobby announced, opening a set of double doors. It was grand, but in a comfortable way: big, sprawling bed that looked more like the kind of furniture for a guy who wanted to just spread himself out as much as possible instead of one who brought home girls two at a time, hardwood floors with soft rugs, a fireplace, and a TV set up to watch from either the bed or a comfortable, slightly sagging barcalounger. It was a sanctum, and I felt like in spite of Bobby’s attitude, he was someone who wanted to be a bit of a homebody. “You wanted to take a shower, right? I think I have some spare clothes in one of the guest rooms,” he said. “You can use the steam shower.” He gestured to the door to the master bath.
“Steam shower, eh?”
“Yeah, it was way more practical than separate shower and sauna, and I put in the hot tub. I didn’t want things to get extra cluttered,” Bobby explained. I stepped into the bathroom, and the lights came up automatically; it was every bit as lush as the bedroom, with a tub big enough for probably three people in it, the shower that would fit at least two people, and what looked like a fold-down massage table. It was incredible, and I couldn’t even imagine having something like that at my disposal at all times.
“This is pretty damn amazing,” I said. “I’m not sure you want to let me use the shower here--you might not be able to get me to leave.” Bobby chuckled from behind me and I turned around to see him with a towel and a gift set-sized package of toiletries in his hands.
“I’ll get you some pajamas downstairs, but this should be a start, right?” The toiletries were Yves Rocher--not exactly cheap. And the towel was as fluffy and soft as a long-haired kitten, without the danger of shedding.
“Oh this will definitely do,” I said. “I’m going to use up all your hot water, fair warning.” Bobby grinned.
“It’s a tankless heater, you can’t,” he told me, taking my hand and pressing a quick kiss to it before turning to leave and give me some privacy.
By the time I got out of the shower, I felt almost as relaxed as I had at the end of the spa day, and certainly clean enough that any worries about the sex worker spitting on me were a thousand miles away. Bobby had discreetly left a pair of soft cotton pajamas just inside the bathroom door, along with slippers, and I left the bathroom to find him seated in the bedroom, watching TV in the barcalounger.
“I didn’t think I was envious of you at all, but I kind of am now,” I admitted, tousling my hair a bit more to get it a little drier with the towel. Bobby looked at me and smiled slowly.
“I knew you were going to look adorable in those pajamas,” he told me. “Can I get you something? A drink?” I shook my head and sat down on the edge of the bed.
“I think I’ve had enough to drink tonight,” I said. “I’m a lightweight now.” I thought about the fact that the only thing even resembling him making a move on me had been the kiss to my hand, and how Bobby had been true to his word. He was actually a gentleman, underneath it all. Then too, I couldn’t help remembering the fact that when we’d first met, the sex had been some of the best in my life. I had to admit I was curious to see if he’d gotten better in the five years since.
“I could get you a cup of tea or something downstairs, if you wanted,” Bobby suggested, and I couldn’t help grinning at him.
“You are bending over backwards to treat me completely and totally like a lady, aren’t you?” Bobby shrugged.
“I promised not to make a move on you unless you did first,” he pointed out.
“So what is it going to take for me to make you make a move?” I stood up and put my hands on my hips.
“I’d need some compelling evidence that you really mean it,” he replied. I walked over to him and leaned forward, until my face was only a few inches away from his.
“Would kissing you do it?” Bobby chuckled.
“A kiss is just a kiss,” he countered.
“And a sigh is just a sigh,” I quipped, leaning in the last little distance and pressing my lips to his. Bobby let me take the lead, not deepening the contact, not even putting his hands on me, but some combination of still being tipsy from the champagne, and delighted at how he’d handled everything that night, spurred me on. Before I knew it, I’d climbed onto his lap, straddling his hips, kissing him more and more eagerly.
Still, Bobby didn’t do anything that a respectful high schooler wouldn’t; his hands went to my waist but stayed there, holding me. “Do you really want more than this?” His lips were barely apart from mine.
“I really do,” I told him, pushing my hips down slightly. “Do you even know when the last time was that I had a night away from my kid?” Bobby chuckled.
“I’m guessing longer than a year,” he replied.
“Oh, way longer,” I told him, unbuttoning his shirt.
“Five years?” I nodded, dipping down to kiss the column of his throat.
“Since the night I conceived Tanya, as a matter of fact,” I told him; I almost, almost told him what night that had been, but I knew that would just kill the mood. Instead I tugged his shirt tails out of his pants and slid my hands over his chest. I might have been mistaken, but Bobby seemed to be in even better shape than he’d been when we’d first hooked up.
/> “Then I’ll really have to make it worth your while, won’t I?” Bobby’s hands began to move over me, and I moaned against his neck, my hips twisting almost as if they had a mind of their own. I could already feel myself getting slick, just from making out like a pair of horny teenagers, my body heating up from the inside out. I had a slowly growing fire in my veins, and what felt like a knot tied up somewhere deep down between my hips, getting tighter every moment.
Bobby carefully held my body against his as he stood, and then carried me the short distance from the chair to his bed. I managed to finish getting the shirt off of him and trailed my lips down from his neck to his chest, clinging to him like a burr. I could feel the hard ridge of his erection pressing against the front of his pants, and I remembered all too well how impressive it was. I tumbled down onto the bed on my back and Bobby was on top of me the very next moment, pulling my face up to his to kiss me again.
Our clothes fell away bit by bit, and when I struggled with the fly of Bobby’s pants he so helpfully got it open for me. Of course, the pajamas he’d loaned me were easier than his formalwear, and in a matter of moments we were both naked, panting slightly. Bobby looked down at me and I felt a sudden stab of self-consciousness. I was healthy and lean, but I had no illusions about the fact that pregnancy and childbirth had changed me, leaving stretch marks and other little tokens in their wake.
“God, you’re even more beautiful than I remembered,” Bobby murmured, claiming my mouth with his once more, reaching down between my legs to slide his fingers against my slick vulva. I didn’t even care if he meant it; it was exactly what I needed to hear from him. I moaned out as he pressed against my labia, his quick fingers finding my clit in a heartbeat and stroking it carefully. I reached blindly and wrapped my hand around his hard, hot cock, sliding up and down along its length in a counter to his caresses. Bobby groaned against my lips, his hips bucking, and I knew neither one of us was likely to be able to last very long.
Reunited: A Billionaire Secret Baby Romance (Lost Love Book 2) Page 8