Hacked For Love & The Dom's Songbird: A Billionaire Romance Collection

by Michelle Love

  "Well, let's see if you still think that when you see my place in LA," Donovan said with a laugh.

  He had talked about the future a few times in the plane, talked about taking me traveling to see what other beautiful cities he had business in. It made me feel warm inside, but there was still that wariness at the heart of it, the question of what we were to each other, and what this could all mean.

  "Your dress is upstairs in the master bedroom," he said with a smile. "You should go see if it suits you."

  Donovan followed me as I went up the stairs, and when I saw the dress that had been laid out for me on the enormous bed, I gasped a little.

  It was a long gown in cream satin with black highlights. I could tell at a glance that it would fit me well, but there was something almost painfully sharp, painfully expensive about it.

  "I can't," I said, turning to Donovan. "It's too much.”

  He stepped up to me, cupping the back of my neck and leaning down to kiss me.

  "Of course it isn't. You need to look good for my friends, don't you?"

  I did, and moreover, I knew that nothing that I could afford on my own would fit the bill. I felt as if I should protest the Cinderella treatment, but it was all too easy, far too easy to let Donovan kiss me, hold me, lavish me with things that delighted him—and me.

  It occurred to me as he showered and I got dressed that he might not know how else to show he liked someone. He wanted to give me gifts, get me things that I couldn't have on my own, and my pleasure in them was his pleasure as well. I wondered with a pang if he had ever experienced another kind of affection.

  While we’d toured Atlanta during the day, I’d looked for something to give to him, everything I could find was too cheap, too silly, too tacky. With everything that I picked up, I was frustrated because if he wanted it, he could have picked it up before now.

  Still, though, I had an idea at the back of my mind, and I thought it would work. I was jotting down a few things on a scrap of paper when he emerged from the bathroom in a cloud of steam.

  "What's all that?" he asked, and I was taken all over again by how handsome he was, a dark towel draped low over his hips and his hair curling from the dampness.

  "Nothing important right now," I said. "We should hurry. If you said that the museum gala starts at eight, we should leave soon."

  He nodded, and with a smile pulled me into his arms for a hug. I yelped with surprise, starting to protest the rough treatment of the dress he had given me, but then the magic of his body, of the chemistry we shared between us, worked again. By the time he pulled back, I knew I would need to fix my makeup and straighten my clothes, but i still would have let him do that and more besides.

  "You can't go out looking like that," he said, looking at my pink cheeks and reddened lips with amusement. "You need to get decent, songbird."

  I groaned and reached for my makeup again, and when he turned away to take care of his own clothing, I knew that he was smiling.

  The museum gala turned out to be far more impressive than Donovan had let on. The entire museum was lit up in bright lights, there was an actual red carpet, and there were local reporters held back with just a velvet rope.

  "Oh, I don't think i can do this," I murmured, and to my surprise, Donovan reached over to squeeze my hand. The smile on his face was far more gentle than I had ever seen it, and he raised my hand to his lips for a nearly courtly kiss.

  "You're going to be fine, songbird. As a matter of fact, you're going to be amazing."

  I took several deep breaths and managed to I exit the car without tripping or falling. Donovan offered me his arm and ushered me down the carpet and I smiled at the cameras, feeling like I was in some kind of fairytale.

  "I feel like everyone is looking at me," I murmured.

  "Of course they are," Donovan said, equally softly. "They've never seen a woman as beautiful as you."

  At the very least, his words had the effect of making me laugh a little

  “Now I know you're joking,” I told him, straightening up a little.

  “I don’t like it when you contradict me about such things,” Donovan warned, pulling me a little closer. “Come on, let's make the rounds, and you'll see.”

  I wasn't sure what Donovan meant for me to see. I was far too focused on smiling at the people he introduced me to, trying to make a good impression, trying not to embarrass myself and Donovan, that I barely had the energy for anything else. It was too obvious to me that these were people who I served at the Fox most of the time. They had been born to money, or had married into it. Maybe they’d even earned it. But amidst the luxury and wealth in the beautiful museum hall. I felt like a disguised intruder. At least Donovan had made sure that the disguise was a good one, but I couldn't relax, couldn't let my guard down for one moment.

  The worst moment was when Donovan drifted off to talk with an acquaintance and I was left to my own devices. I felt like a moving target in the hall, and decided that the wide outdoor plaza was the safest place to be. I was just breathing in the humid fresh air with relief when there was a light touch at my elbow. I jumped and turned around to see a tall and willowy brunette with sparkling dark eyes and chestnut hair swept back in a bun offering me a glass of water.

  “I saw you in there. You looked a little green around the gills when you left,” she said sympathetically. “Thought you could use some water.”

  “Oh, thank you...” I said, taking the glass gratefully from her hand. “That was very kind of you.”

  I took a deep breath as she watched me with a slight smile on her face.

  “You don't look like you're having a great time,” she said, and I laughed a little.

  “Oh, no it's fine, it's a wonderful event, and everyone's been so kind...”

  She raised her eyebrow, and there was something so sympathetic about her look that I couldn't hold back a soft sigh.

  “I guess I'm feeling a little out of my depth tonight. I don't know anyone...”

  “Well, they do say it's not what you know, it's who you know. However, I'm sure that we can fix that for you...What's your name, hon?”

  She wasn't that much older than me, but there was something comforting, almost sisterly about her tone.

  “Gwen Love.”

  She brightened a little.

  “Oh, I know Bobby and Marie Love from Connecticut! Lovely people. Marie and I put together a charity a few years back. Are you related to them?”

  “I'm pretty sure I’m not,” I said reluctantly. I wasn't quite sure how to tell this woman that most of my relatives were from small towns in Oklahoma rather than in any of the fashionable places she often ventured to.

  “Ah, well, it's a big family, as I understand,” she said with a shrug. “But I am just certain that I know you from somewhere...”

  Before I could say anything, Donovan appeared at my side, grinning easily at the woman.

  “Ah, Jordan. Good to see you again,” he said. “Beautiful as ever.”

  She offered her hand for a squeeze, and her eyes, if anything, grew brighter and softer.

  “Well, Donovan, I was wondering when you were going to pop up. I was just chatting with Gwen here...”

  “And trying to get all of the dirt on me, I'm sure,” he said with a chuckle. “How've you been, Jordan? I was sorry to hear about your divorce...”

  They talked about a few things, moving from topic to topic with the easy grace of people who had known each other for years. Donovan kept me grounded with an arm around my waist; otherwise I might have drifted back off into the warm Atlanta night. When Jordan spotted someone else she wanted to speak to, Donovan turned to me with a wry grin.

  “Still got all your fingers and toes?”

  “Um, what?”

  “Jordan DuPleiss. She's got teeth, and she knows how to use 'em.”

  “I thought you liked her,” I said in surprise.

  “Oh, I do, but even her best friends aren't going to deny that the woman's a shark. She's been m
eaner since her divorce. I hope she didn't try to take a bite out of you.”

  “She was perfectly nice,” I protested. “I am still glad that you came over, though.”

  Donovan's eyes softened as he looked at me, and his hand came up to cup the back of my neck.

  “You look like you might be okay heading in for the night....”

  I wavered. If I could do a ten hour shift on my feet at the restaurant, there was no reason that I couldn't finish out the evening at a party, but Donovan was right. I felt like someone who was struggling to keep my head above water, and with every moment that went past, I was sinking a little deeper.

  “I don't want to make you miss anything...”

  Donovan stepped a little closer, looking straight into my eyes. There was a strength and a command in his gaze that made my heart beat faster and my mouth go dry.

  “I'm not asking you to tell me what I want or need,” Donovan said softly. “I'm asking you to tell me if you're done, and you want to head back to the house.”

  I swallowed hard.

  “Yes,” I said in a small voice. “I'd like to be somewhere quiet with you now. Please.”

  Even though I was making him leave his part early, a slight smile came across his face, and he leaned down to give me a gentle kiss that made me melt into him.

  “Of course,” he said, and he took my hand in his.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Donovan

  Gwen was quiet on the way back to the house, her small hand resting on my thigh the whole way back. When I glanced at her during the drive, she looked dreamlike, far away. A part of me relished the quiet. So many women who had sat where she was now had filled the air with words, trying to land a hook in me that would take. Another part of me wanted her to speak again. She wasn't loud, but silence felt like a strange garment on her.

  When we were inside, I turned her to me with a slight smile, brushing a lock of hair out of her eyes.

  “Do you need to sleep right now?” I asked softly. There was a worn look in her eyes, as if the evening had taken more out of her than she expected, but to my surprise, she shook her head firmly.

  “I don't need to sleep right now,” she said. “I want to give you your present.”

  I raised my eyebrow, tilting my head at her. She frowned.

  “You did say that I could get you something....”

  “I did. I guess I’m surprised you remembered,” I admitted.

  She smiled a little at that.

  “Well, I couldn't find anything to buy you. I guess all those magazine articles were right, and buying gifts for the man who has everything is more difficult than I thought it would be. But I do have a present for you. Would you sit down in that chair, please?”

  I sat down in the armchair she indicated, and watched in fascination as she fussed around the living room. First she removed her shawl, revealing her bare arms and her curves in that gorgeous dress, and then she stood just a few feet in front of me, her eyes on the ground.

  For a single irresistibly hot moment, I thought she was going to strip, and then, she started to sing.

  “I have wandered far, seeking the only star I ever knew...”

  Her voice was almost piercingly sweet, perfectly controlled and lovely. I had heard it before, of course, but this was different. There was a quality in her voice that could have moved a stone to tears, and I felt frozen as I listened to her. I couldn't take my eyes away from her if I wanted to, and it almost felt as if my heart had gone hot and still in my chest.

  Though it felt that she sang with all of her heart, Gwen kept her eyes on the floor, and even as her melody wove around us, I found myself wanting more than anything to see her eyes.

  Look at me, look at me, I thought. I needed to see her. She was within reach, but there was something almost profane about touching her when she was in this state. It would feel like taking a masterpiece painting and smashing it on the ground.

  Instead, I listened, hearing her words about a bird that led a girl to her love, and all of the difficulties she had to face while searching for him. In the end, they fell into each other's arms, and at that moment, Gwen looked up at me, her eyes glowing as the song subsided on the last note and she fell silent.

  The silence stretched between us, and she clasped her hands lightly in front of her, as if she were nervous.

  “Well, I hope you liked it,” she said, searching my face for some sign of approval. “I've been working on it for a while, but, well... I guess it didn't come together until just today.”

  “So I was the first one to hear it?”

  I got up and crossed the floor to stand in front of Gwen. She looked away, but I touched her chin, making her look up again.

  “Gwen?”

  “You were,” she said, her voice shaking just a little. “I... I wanted you to be the first one to hear it. It was for you. In every way that matters.”

  She was shivering a little, and then there was nothing in the world that could have kept me from taking her in my arms.

  “It was the best present anyone has ever given me,” I rasped, drawing her closer to me. “I loved it.” Love was not a word that ever fell lightly from my lips, and the awareness lingered that I might love far more than her beautiful gift, though I didn’t allow myself to dwell on it.

  Having her small soft form pressed against me was enough to send a shiver of need through my body, and I lifted her in my arms.

  “I want you,” I growled, kissing her throat. “I can't resist you...”

  She sighed with pleasure as I kissed her, wrapping around me tightly.

  “I don't just want you to,” Gwen said quietly. “I need you.”

  Over the years, women have said the most extravagant things to me, trying to convince me of their devotion. Something about Gwen's quiet confession, soft, almost a whisper, tore right at my heart and made me hold her closer.

  “Rare, precious beauty,” I whispered, carrying her into the bedroom. Gwen breathed a soft sigh of pleasure when I laid her down on the bed. I hesitated a moment. I liked taking the lead, craved it most times, but what I wanted most right now was to please Gwen.

  “Tell me what you want,” I said, and smiled a little when it brought a flush of color to her cheeks.

  “I don't know...” she murmured, and I tilted my head to one side.

  “I think you do,” I murmured silkily. “I think when I said that, something flashed in your mind. Why don't you tell me what that was, my darling?”

  She swallowed, and I could hear the click of her dry throat.

  “I want you to make love to me,” she said.

  Thoughtlessly, I laughed a little at her antiquated language. It was a little quaint, but perfect for her. There was a flash of hurt across her face, and to soothe her, I kissed her soft mouth gently, running my hands down her sleek sides until she was shivering with pleasure.

  “Of course I will, darling,” I murmured to her, and she clung to me, murmuring soft sweet words against me. She said something else, but I could barely make it out.

  “What was that, sweetheart.”

  “I want you naked,” she said, her voice more clear this time, and the heat that spilled through me was intense. It was intoxicating seeing her come into her own desire, learning more about what she wanted and asking me for it. I wanted to reward that particular kind of knowledge, and with a grin, I stood back from the bed, stripping off my clothes with deliberate motions. At first, I thought that she wouldn't be able to meet my eyes, let alone look at me, but her gaze as I shed my clothing was hungry, needy.

  “You are very beautiful,” she said, and I laughed again.

  “Thank you,” I purred. “May I take the same liberty?”

  She started to unbutton her dress, but then I was there, undressing her tenderly. It was a gentle counterpoint to how I had stripped her the first time, and she sighed, pressing herself into my hands. In a few moments, she was as naked as I was. Gwen's hands came up to cover her breasts, but I tugged the
m back down.

  “I never want you to cover yourself from me,” I muttered, pressing hot kisses to her throat. “I always want to see you...”

  She might have argued with that, but then my hand closed over her breasts, squeezing gently before I teased her nipple to hardness. She whimpered under her breath, and her breath caught as she reached between my own legs. She looked at me half-apprehensive, as if I would ever have pulled back from that.

  “Here, shall I show you...?

  I folded my hand over hers, stroking her palm along my erect shaft. I grew harder and fuller with every stroke, and I watched the way her eyes fluttered shut at the sensation of touching me and arousing me.

  “Good girl, perfect girl,” I ground out. Having her hand on me was intoxicating, and that was before she pulled back to swirl her thumb over the silky liquid at the very tip.

  “I want you so much,” she murmured, and with a groan, I reached down between her legs, spreading her open and cupping her sex briefly I ran my fingers along her slit. She parted easily for me, but when I pushed a finger inside her, she gasped a little.

  “Tight?” I asked, and blushing again, she nodded. “Do you need to stop?”

  Gwen' hesitated, and I touched her chin again, making her look at me. “Don’t ever be afraid to be honest with me.”

  “I don't want to stop... but maybe I need it kind of slow?” Her request trailed off uncertainly, and I felt an unfamiliar pang of anger at who might have told her that she needed to be so hesitant with that information.

  “Then of course we're going to be slow,” I said with a smile.”After all, I've been thinking about this for a while.”

  Gwen started to ask what I meant by that, and then she whimpered as I shifted down her body, coming to rest on my belly between her legs. I opened her more fully with my hands, and when I ran the widest part of my tongue along her slit, she nearly came off of the bed in surprise and pleasure.

  “Oh, Donovan!”

  Her startled cry was nothing but sweetness to me, and I nuzzled between her legs, drinking in the intoxicating taste of her, wanting all of her. She groaned as I circled her clit with the tip of my tongue, and when I pressed my fingertip inside her opening again, her hands came down to tangle in my hair. Instead of pushing her away, however, I growled encouragingly, relishing in the display of her need.