Instead of jumping up and down with glee at my proposal, I hear stiff silence on the phone. She says nothing. It’s not every day that I ask a girl out, and I’m not used to this uncertain reaction.
“Well, what do you say?” I prompt.
She hesitates. “Oh, Evan, I’d love to. But I just don’t think it’s a good idea. I need to stay near the mansion.”
Her words put me at a loss.
Doesn’t she still have an apartment in the city? Why is she so intent on staying at the mansion? It doesn’t make sense.
“Meg, the mansion can do without you for a night. I want you to join me for dinner. Come on, I can make reservations at the best restaurant in New York. We can discuss the upcoming party.”
I’m fully expecting her to give in. I’m expecting her to tell me that she can’t wait and that she’ll be dressed and ready in an hour.
To my dismay, she says, “I’m sorry Evan. I just...can’t.”
With that she hangs up, and I am left in a semi-state of shock. Did I just get turned down for a date? That’s never happened to me, not even once in my life.
In an instant, I decide that if Meg won’t come to me, I’ll go to her. I won’t be dismissed so easily. I know there’s a reason she said no, but I can’t imagine what it is.
Why is she so averse to being in the city? Maybe the mansion life is just agreeing with her. Better that be the case than her hating it.
Whatever her issue is, I will see her tonight. I can’t wait another second.
And so, I pack a quick bag and head out the door. For once, I’m glad to say goodbye to the office and to work. Usually, I would be staying late into the night, getting things done and making a fortune, but it’s different with Meg in my life.
Suddenly, pleasure seems more important than business—and no, I can’t even believe I’m admitting that to myself.
I drive my Porsche speedily down the streets of New York.
I can’t wait to get out of the city. Suddenly, it’s not so exciting here. The excitement lies wherever Meg is.
Meg.
She ignites a passion in me that refuses to lie dormant.
Anytime I’m far away from her, I feel antsy. I feel like I should be with her all the time, like I should have eyes on her in order to keep her safe.
And so I’m happy to have finished up my business in the city. There’s nothing I want more than to be at my father’s country estate right now.
It doesn’t make sense, and it’s driving me fucking crazy. I haven’t even slept with her yet, and my addiction to her is already growing.
I keep telling myself that maybe she’ll be horrible in bed. Maybe we’ll have no sexual chemistry, and then I’ll be off the hook and won’t have to feel things this deeply about one woman anymore.
But at the back of my mind, and deep down in my heart, I know this isn’t true.
Our connection is white hot, and I don’t imagine it’s going anywhere soon.
I might be in deep—a thought that gets my cock harder than it’s ever been—and suddenly, I just can’t drive fast enough to see her.
I speed through the narrow streets of the city; it doesn’t take me long to get outside of Manhattan. As I inch closer to the house, I take in the fresh country air and think of how I got myself in this position.
I haven’t even slept with anybody else since meeting Meg. Usually, I’d have a host of women at my feet, ready for a one-night stand at my beck and call. But suddenly, all of that doesn’t interest me now.
What she’s doing to me makes me feel simultaneously excited and pissed off.
I don’t get close to women. That’s kind of my mantra, my rule in life.
And yet tonight, my body betrays me as my cock strains and throbs against my pants for every thought I cast her way. I want her so bad. I need to make things happen with her before I damn near explode.
I take the corners of the road tightly, recalling Meg’s reaction to my invitation.
Why wouldn’t she meet me in the city? What’s going on with her? She sounded almost afraid of the idea of having to leave the mansion.
And then I push these thoughts out of my mind and focus on the fact that I’m about to see Meg.
I’ll fuck her tonight and make her cry my name, and she’ll never want to leave my side again.
It’s time to cement this thing. I need to be with her, and tonight, I’ll do whatever it takes to make that happen—even if I have to walk through fire to be with her. There will be no more waiting or chivalry on my part.
It’s time.
Chapter 30
Meg
My hands shake as I hung up the phone. I take a couple of deep breaths, trying to regain my composure.
Evan had caught me off guard by asking me to come to the city.
I’ve given him no good reason why I couldn’t come to the city. He probably suspects something now.
My secret is starting to unravel, and living two separate lives might just be my undoing.
I can’t maintain a series of lies any longer. I am, by nature, a person with integrity. I don’t lie.
And yet Simon has forced me into it. It’s as if he wants me to be as evil as he is.
Giving Evan the cold shoulder is making me sick to my stomach because it’s not who I am.
I’m into Evan. I feel connected to him in an inexplicable way, and yet I might have just severed everything that binds us together.
My bed beckons, and I curl up on the soft duvet. Have I lost Evan, this great guy, all because I’m hiding a secret life? Do I expect never to leave the mansion again?
Tears run down my cheeks, and I find myself crying for all that I’ve lost and for all that I have to lose.
I have everything I could ever want here—and yet it’s all on the line because of stupid Simon.
It was a close call with Evan, and I’m not even sure I handled the situation right. Who am I to refuse him a date? Finally, he asks me out—something I’ve been dying for him to do—but I had to ruin it because of my secret.
What if he gets turned off because of my hesitation?
I wipe my tears with the sleeve of my sweater and consider my options. It’s becoming completely apparent to me now that the truth will come out at some point. I can’t remain cloistered in the mansion forever and think that nobody will notice how I never leave.
The thing is, I know Simon is out there. It’s obvious from his texts that he’s becoming increasingly angry, and I sense a hint of…instability about him. He’s going absolutely crazy, knowing that he may not get the billion-dollar fortune.
Simon’s only concern is money. It always has been. And because it’s taking me so long to get some dirt on the guys, I think Simon might do something rash.
I don’t want to take any chances by leaving the mansion.
For all I know, he has spies on me, watching my every move. If I were to leave the mansion and go on a date with one of the guys, I might leave myself exposed to Simon and his minions or whoever he has working for him.
By leaving, I could blow my cover.
And I can’t have that happening.
I’m finally happy, and I want to do everything I can to hang on to that. I deserve a good life.
I just have to find out how to get out from underneath Simon’s grasp. It seems like an impossible situation, and I curse as I look out my window at the setting sun.
I’ll never tire of this view and from being so far removed from the city and all its chaos. Out here, I can actually hear myself think.
My cheeks burn hot, and my eyes fill again with tears, but I don’t let one single drop fall this time.
Simon doesn’t deserve to have me feeling upset like this. He doesn’t deserve to have a say over my life or how I feel.
I’ve put up with him for far too long, and now his past relationship with me is threatening to ruin my present happiness.
I go to my bathroom and splash some cool water on my face. It does nothing to tame my p
ounding heart, but it does bring me back to reality.
I tell myself that I can deal with Simon another day. And I tell myself that this is all a bad dream, from which I will wake up one day soon.
I walk down to the pool and dip my feet in the water. I watch the setting sun for a long while and think about what a mistake I’ve made in thinking I can be happy here.
With Simon in my life, I can never be happy. How could I have been so dumb?
I became so wrapped up in the guys, these four amazing brothers, that I forgot my reality, which is that Simon has me under his watch.
He can ruin my life, expose me. He can ruin my happiness.
The pool darkens as the day fades and the evening sets. Crickets chirp and provide a backdrop to my forlorn thoughts.
Reluctantly, I look at my phone and see that Simon has left a score of messages.
Where are you? he writes. Have you found anything?
I text him back, No, Simon. It’s been harder than I expected. There’s no sign of the will anywhere.
Time is of the essence, he replies. I roll my eyes. This is not some kind of vacation for you, Meg. You’re out there for a reason. If you don’t come up with something soon, I’m gonna pull you out of there and think of a new plan.
His words cause my heart to race with anxiety. I knew Simon would make his move soon. He’ll come out here and force my hand.
For all I know, he could show up at the front door tomorrow and demand to have me back.
Then the guys would know that I’ve been betraying them this entire time.
I think I’m getting close to something. I just need a little while longer. I’m sure the will is in the house somewhere, I text back.
Fine. But you don’t have long.
He’s such a jerk. There’s got to be a way to get him out of my life.
Idly, I remember how I came to the mansion with the intention of escaping my past, to run away to my island paradise.
But now I’m starting to feel firmly entrenched within the lives of the men here. They’ve made me submit in ways I never knew was possible.
Suddenly, I find myself wanting to give up my own plans of escape so that I can be with them.
It’s not such an impossibility, is it? I mean, besides the fact that I have no idea if any of them intend to be monogamous with me—a fact that I don’t forget for a second.
For all I know, this could be an unrequited fantasy in my head. Maybe the guys want to bed me for a time and then that’s it.
It’s out of my control, but a girl can hope.
Besides, there’s something worthwhile about being dominated by four men, four brothers, who are all so self-aware and have access to such inner power and strength. It makes me feel good to let go and to be their little muse.
While I’ve been with each of them separately—except for Evan—there’s a common thread that runs through all of my relationships with them: these guys are alpha males to the max.
They worship me, sure, and yet they expect me to give in to their every need and desire.
It’s a task I’m more than willing to do.
I feel myself getting turned on by the second as I sit here by the pool, thinking of them. I don’t honestly see how I can walk away from the situation.
I need to figure out some way to put off Simon.
My feet feel good in the warm water, and I see the moon rising over the horizon. I could sit here all night, just taking in the quiet country sounds.
And then to my surprise, I hear Evan’s voice.
“There you are. I was worried about you, Meg.”
I look up at him, and my heart begins to flutter. He looks so hot in his business suit.
At the same time, I know that I might have enraged him by turning down his offer for a date. I wanted to go. I really did.
But I don’t see any way that it can happen with Simon out there lurking somewhere.
“Hi, Evan,” I say, getting up to greet him. “I thought maybe you were mad at me.”
I see he’s holding a bottle of champagne and a couple of glasses. It’s the perfect thing I need—a tonic for my torn soul.
He pulls me towards his side and gives me a kiss before saying, “How could I be mad at you, Meg? You’re radiant. You’re everything.”
His words soothe me, and suddenly, I feel a fire ignite between the two of us. We’ve waited so long—and yet we both want each other so badly. It’s evident, obvious.
There’s been this underlying sexual tension between us that we can no longer ignore. All I can think about is Evan. All I see is Evan.
And, as he puts his mouth upon mine, all I’m tasting and feeling is Evan.
Chapter 31
Evan
My dream has finally come true.
I’ve longed to be on my own with this goddess, and finally I’ve succeeded.
The sound of the waterfall flowing at the back of the hot tub is the perfect backdrop for what I’ve got planned.
Maybe her refusal to come to the city is a blessing in disguise. This is far better than some run-of-the-mill expensive hotel suite.
The jealousy built during the drive to the mansion is slowly evaporating. This might just become a special night—a special something between Meg and I.
Soft lighting from the bottom of the pool highlights Meg’s features, and I have to exercise the utmost in restraint to stop myself from ripping her clothes off and fucking her right here.
How long have I waited for this moment? Too fucking long. In my job and in life, I never have to wait; I always get what I go for.
After I set the ground rules—that I’m in command—I get down to business with my kiss.
It’s time to pour some champagne. Her smoldering, emerald eyes watch my every move.
“Baby, let’s pop this bottle of champagne, yes?”
“Yes,” she says, looking up at me from under long lashes.
She’s looks radiant by the pool, like a goddamn mermaid come to life.
She accepts the tall crystal champagne flute, and as the tips of our fingers touch, I can feel electric currents pass through both of us. From her expression, I can tell she feels it too.
“What shall we drink to?” I ask as I allow my eyes to roam all over her body.
I can’t keep my eyes off her for a minute. I’m mentally undressing her, but on second thought, it might be more interesting if I command her to strip for me.
She’s staring at me with a mixture of awe and lust. I can tell she’s trying to determine what kind of mood I’m in.
Will tonight be the night? Will I be gentle with her or rough?
“Why don’t we toast to us? It’s the first time we’ve been really alone, after all,” she says.
Her voice is soft and alluring. My cock instantly hardens in my pants. Part of me can already imagine those exquisite lips wrapped around my manhood that’s throbbing so forcefully for her.
“How about we toast instead to you?” I say.
I don’t think she gets how beautiful she is. But her cheeks redden a little bit at my words, and I love the fact that I’ve made her uneasy, or shall we say vulnerable to my charms.
She’s putty in my hands and will submit to whatever I want her to do. And trust me, there’s plenty I want her to do.
But before we take it to the next level, I lead her by the hand to the darkened part of the pool. The waterfall is nearby, and I can imagine her naked body underneath it as the water cascades over her skin in the moonlight.
“Stand under there and take your clothes off,” I command as I put my glass down.
I point toward the waterfall where my fantasy can play out into reality. Red, blue, and green lights illuminate the fake display of nature.
There’s the slightest bit of hesitation about her demeanor, but I know she’ll do it. She wouldn’t dare to defy me now, or I’ll make her pay.
Defiantly, she summons courage out of somewhere and walks toward the water. Her eyes are fixed on me the ent
ire time.
Instead of stripping down or getting naked, she plunges into the pool with a perfect swan dive. Then she comes up for air before situating her body behind the waterfall.
I can only just make out the lines of her perfect tits as they’re erect against her drenched shirt.
“Is this what you want, baby? Or should I call you daddy?” she asks.
I’m taken aback by her confidence and her sudden show of words. But I’m not one to back down from a fight, so I engage.
“No. Take it all off,” I say as I sit down by the pool and get drunk off the champagne. “And make sure you do it slowly.”
Mesmerized, I watch her undo the top button of her forest-green shirt before moving to the next. By the time she’s at the gap between her tits, I hold up my hand.
“Stop,” I growl, and I see her shaking hands hover on the next one. “Too slow.”
I take my shirt off and walk toward her. Her eyes are set on my abdomen, exquisite and perfectly toned. Wearing my pants, I slide into the water to join her.
I shove her hand out of the way. Then I grab onto the flimsy material and rip it open. Buttons pop in different directions and land in the water.
She gasps, and I can see pleasure ripple through her. Goosebumps are on her neck and arms. Rivulets of water run down between her breasts.
“Better,” I mutter and fold my arms. “Keep going.”
Her trembling hands fumble with the opening of the lacy bra.
“Straps,” I bark and watch as she quickly pulls down the left and then the right bra strap. Her shirt floats in the water, and I’m delighted to have her nearly nude. “Pull it off.”
At first she stares at me, trying to comprehend what I’m saying. When my hands reach for the material and roughly move it from side to side, understanding registers.
She takes over, and I can see her nipples harden even more from the attention they’re getting.
Meg moans and throws her head backwards. Instantly, her hair is drenched. When she brings it forward again, droplets of water run down her cheek, nose, and forehead.
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