“Not sure I believe that.”
He continued to rub her back, occasionally massaging her shoulders or ass. “Are you sleeping?” he asked after a while.
“Yes.”
“So you never pretended to be a singer or a teacher or President like other kids?”
“We’re still discussing this?”
“I’m just trying to understand you better.”
“I didn’t play like that,” she said. “I had my one Barbie, and we were just fine.”
“What a shame.”
She agreed—it was a shame. She didn’t remember where she’d even gotten a Barbie. Her mom hadn’t been much for typically girly things like dolls or Disney princess movies. Lola blinked out of her haze a little as the memory came to her. “Wait. Actually, she wasn’t even a real Barbie. She was a knock-off Barbie I found at a daycare and named Nadia after the babysitter. My neighbor made her have simulated sex with her authentic Ken doll, and then she threw Nadia on the ground after.”
“That’s,” Beau blew out a short laugh, “the most depressing thing I’ve ever heard.”
“Then I’ll stop there.”
“Why, what happened next? Skipper kicked her into the street and she was run over by a semi?”
“Probably something like that.” She couldn’t help laughing but then got quiet. She was awake again, Beau touching her, make her warm. What time was it? How long had they been talking? “Why are we talking about this? Really, you’re not very good at paying for sex.”
“For what it’s worth, Nadia sounds like a hell of a lot more fun than Barbie.”
“She can certainly take more.”
“I like a woman who doesn’t break when you bend her.”
“Nadia wouldn’t,” Lola said.
“What really happened to her?”
“No idea,” Lola said. “One day I went to look for her, and she was just gone.”
“I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Just as well. I was looking for her to throw her out.”
“Why?” he asked.
“Someone at school said dolls were for babies. I hadn’t played with her in years, but I still wanted to get rid of her. I didn’t want anyone thinking I was a baby.”
“I can’t imagine anyone accusing you of that.”
“They didn’t. I may not have had much growing up, but I had the respect of my peers.” Respect had never been a problem for her, no matter her age, even with those who’d known how she was making her money. “If only they could see me now.”
Beau kissed her hair above her ear. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“Right. That’s your job.”
“A job any other man would envy.”
She pressed her lips together, smiling a little. “What about you, Beau? Do you have any regrets about what do you for a living?”
“None.”
“Why? What specifically about it makes you happy?”
“It’s the perfect setup. I use my money to make more money. That’s something I can see and understand. Of course, there are no guarantees when it comes to these things, but we’re very thorough in our research and projections. Generally the companies we choose are poised for success. So far, thanks to that and a little luck, the returns have been incomparable.”
“Not buying it,” Lola said immediately. “What is it that drives you every day? What makes you smile?”
Beau was silent as if deciding how to respond. Finally, he said, “I guess it would be giving someone a chance at his dream. Not many people in this world have that gift to give. Some of these people are kids still—twenty-two, twenty-three—they work so fucking hard just on the belief they have what it takes. Like I did.”
“You like helping them,” she said. “You give them more than just money.”
“Before I make any decisions, I have to get to know the founders. Really know them, their values and how they do business. That’s why I brought those two guys to your bar with me. If I’d taken them to an expensive restaurant, they would’ve clammed right up. They needed a place like Hey Joe, where they were comfortable and could be themselves so I could see what I was investing in.”
“You do that with all your potential ventures?” It was clear to Lola she wasn’t just a deal Beau had made, but an actual person he took interest in. Beau had led those guys down a path of his design in order to understand them. The way he’d mapped out his dates with Lola. Did that make her like them, though? If so, she wasn’t much of an investment at all. She produced no returns.
“I do,” he said. “Intuition is a driving factor in many of my decisions.”
“So if Mayor Churchill meets with you one on one, he’ll understand your intentions. And then tax breaks for you and your friends means more investment money and more opportunities to give.”
He laughed. “I don’t know about calling all the rich people in Los Angeles my friends, but otherwise yes. And that’s just the start. I’d love to get more incentives for startups here so they’ll consider L.A.”
“What else?” Lola asked. Ideas excited her. Acting on them. It was what Hey Joe needed to turn around. Passion, ambition, motivation. Someone to take the lead and bump them past the level of talking about what they should do next. For a fleeting, shameful moment, feeding off Beau’s enthusiasm, Lola wished Johnny were more like Beau in that sense.
“Coding needs to be mandatory in high schools,” Beau said, “but offered as early as elementary level. If I’d taken it in school, I’d be light years ahead of where I am, and I’m already pretty advanced. Girls need to be educated that technology’s not just for boys. I put on this yearly conference free for aspiring or existing entrepreneurs, and there are a few sessions for those under eighteen who’re interested.”
“Back up. A conference for entrepreneurs?” she asked. “You put it on?”
“My company, Bolt Ventures, does. But it’s really a personal project for me. It’s one weekend in Los Angeles with workshops, panels, free legal advice, things like that. And entrepreneurs with a business plan get to pitch their ideas to investors with five-minute, rapid-fire presentations. There’s also opportunities for one-on-one time with people who’ve been in their shoes and succeeded.”
“Wow,” Lola said. “I admit—I’m a little shocked. What do you get out of it?”
“Nothing, really.”
“That can’t be. Exposure maybe?”
“I got screwed over with my first company, and I didn’t even realize it at first.”
“Didn’t you make millions off that deal?”
“Yes, but once they had my company, they didn’t value the work I’d put into it. I guess this conference is a way of providing the tools I didn’t have so others don’t have to make decisions they shouldn’t be making without all the information.”
Lola struggled to envision a world where a ravenous, bulldozing businessman like Beau Olivier did something so selfless.
“There’s some exposure for Bolt. People in the industry know I’m behind it. They have to. I need my contacts to make it successful. But it’s maybe the one business venture I do that’s not for financial gain. It’s for them.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever heard you this passionate,” Lola said, her eyes still shut.
Beau snorted. “Do I have to tell you you’re wrong about that?”
Her cheeks warmed. “You might be right.”
He moved hair off her face. “You must’ve been a cute little Lola.”
“That’s what you got from the picture I painted earlier?”
“No. I got that from the way you just scrunched up your nose when you smiled.” He fell quiet again, raking his fingers through her hair. “I want to know what that girl thought her future looked like. Maybe it’s something I could give you.”
He’d already afforded her one future. With two million dollars, she and Johnny could do anything. She parted her lips to ask him what more he could possibly give her, but she closed her mouth. It was
a question that could lead them down many dangerous paths—what could he offer her that she didn’t already have with Johnny?
She opened her eyes, blinking several times to adjust to the light. In the dark, it’d almost been as if she’d dreamed the past few hours. “We’re just supposed to be having sex,” she said. “All these questions about my past—my future? I hope you aren’t falling in love with me.”
“I can’t tell if you’re joking. But what if I were?”
Her heart pulsed, even though she knew that was impossible—impossible for anyone, but even more so for people like them, who’d had to grow an extra layer around their hearts. “You can’t fall in love with someone in a night.”
“Just like you can’t buy a person?”
“What?”
“Nothing. Never mind.”
Lola stared at his naked pecs. Whenever he worked out a kink in her back, there was obvious strength in his hands. Now she watched the muscles in his arm and chest tighten.
She’d told Johnny she loved him on a weekday. It wasn’t anything worth remembering, like during an expensive dinner or an especially gripping orgasm. She’d just worked a shift at Cat Shoppe, and it’d been late. Her body had dragged like it was made of lead. He’d been in the parking lot, waiting to give her a ride. She’d been so grateful for not having to take the bus home that it just came out. She’d had no idea back then whether she really loved him, only that it felt right to say it.
“It’s not possible,” Lola murmured out loud. “Not in one night.”
Beau bent to peck her cheek. She tilted her head up and met him with her mouth. He pulled her closer by her nape. Their tongues were slow, gradual, tasting. Probing. Then consuming.
Lola thrummed, partly from listening to Beau talk about his work. It added a dimension to him she hadn’t known much about. His drive was sexy, the way he commanded all of her in the bedroom was.
Just as she was about to climb on top of him, he pulled away and put a hand on her back to keep her on her stomach. The mattress sank as he straddled her. He grabbed lotion she hadn’t noticed before from the bedside table. Next to it was a bottle of lube. He squeezed the lotion onto her back and tossed the bottle aside. His hands became even more powerful over her skin. She tried to tell him how good it was, but she could barely make noise. He kneaded his fingers up her neck, into her hair, then down to her shoulders, her lower back. He dipped them between her legs. He squeezed and separated her ass cheeks, letting his thumbs run along the insides.
“Beau,” she murmured. With a shock of cold on her lower back, she opened her eyes. The lube was also gone from the nightstand.
“Relax,” he said. He dropped his hand lower, spread the lube around and added more.
“I can’t,” she said.
His throat sounded raw. “Can’t what?”
She bit her lip when he circled around her clit. “I know where you’re going with this.” She swallowed and exhaled against the bed. He took his hand away. He hovered over her back as he kissed his way from one shoulder blade to the other. Her attention struggled between following his lips and the insistent hardness against her thigh.
“The way you melt into the mattress like this,” he said quietly, brushing his mouth down her spine to the center of her back, “it gets me insane. Turns me on like crazy.”
His hand returned between her lubed cheeks, and he pressed a finger against the one place it couldn’t be. Her reflex was to blush furiously. She considered herself adventurous in the bedroom except when it came to this. She hadn’t let Johnny anywhere near her ass until years after they’d started dating. Everything in her body coiled into a tight spring with a mixture of fear and anticipation.
“Don’t brace yourself.” His other hand rubbed her lower back firmly, coaxing her. When he was demanding, she was powerless to him—when he was gentle, like he was now, she lost all control over herself.
He worked a finger inside her, and her awareness of anything other than its snug fit vanished. He slid it out slowly then back in, massaging her at an easy, relaxed pace. Her embarrassment waned, but her face burned hotter with a mix of emotions. She liked what he was doing, but she worried anything more would hurt.
She’d only let Johnny get as far as this, but he hadn’t been as calm as Beau about it. She hadn’t enjoyed it. It was almost as if Beau were touching a different spot than Johnny had. Beau did this for her, not for himself. She was no longer bracing herself.
“Good,” he said, grit in his voice. “You’re doing good.”
Pride swelled in her. She wanted to prove to him she could enjoy it, elicit more praise. As he added a second finger, she focused on her breathing through the initial bite of pain. Soon, as his probing became deeper, quicker, she not only accepted him inside her but wanted him there.
“God,” she exhaled, “damn.”
His only response was a low grunt and to stretch her even more with another finger. She’d warmed to him and deep in her belly, gradually, a knot of pleasure began to form. She curled her hands in and out of balls around the comforter. He withdrew his fingers without warning and in their place came a much heavier pressure.
“Wait,” she said.
He rubbed the head of his dick against her puckered opening. “I’ll stay gentle,” Beau said, coating them both in more lube. Though the pain worried her, it wasn’t enough to stop her. She was too turned on to tell him no for that reason alone. It was that this was something she’d never given Johnny—something he wouldn’t forgive if he found out.
“I can’t let you have this,” she said.
He slid the length of his shaft between her cheeks. “Why not?”
“I’ve never…” Sharing her and Johnny’s sex life with Beau seemed wrong. Everything was wrong—him pressing against such an intimate place, her not only allowing it, but wanting it, when she never had before. But those things were also spurring on her arousal. “I just can’t…shouldn’t.”
“It’s part of the deal.” He sounded frayed, edgy with impatience as one of his hands kneaded her ass cheek. “When and how I want.” He blew out an exhale. “Where.”
“Johnny’s tried, and I’ve told him no every time. He’s begged me, Beau. You don’t understand what this means.”
He put one elbow by her head and closed his body over her back. “Yes, I do,” he said into her hair, “and it only makes me want it more.” The tip of his cock intruded on her, begging to enter. “Remember how good it felt to submit to me?” His hot breath warmed her ear. “That’s all this is. Yielding. Taking everything I give you, because that is our arrangement. Because you like it that way.”
She’d been determined not to let Beau have this. He had the power to turn her body against her, though—her mind too. He would never be satisfied. This was her last defense against him, but he’d reduced her to a quivering mess and set her on a fragile, tenuous edge that might give any moment and plunge her into absolute vulnerability.
“I want this part as mine.” His insistent pressing gave way to short, slick strokes as he entered her. It stung and throbbed, and her instinct was to reject the invasion, to recoil, to push him out, but whenever she tensed, he released a shh into her hair then kissed her in the same spot, waiting until she calmed. Her blood seemed to simultaneously rush and drain through and from her body. He was big, unfairly big it seemed in that moment, so much that she almost wished Johnny, not quite as big, had broken her in first.
“You’re so tight. Let me fuck your ass, Lola, your tight virgin ass—not because I want it. Do it because you want me to have it.”
He inched in. Didn’t he know he could have whatever he wanted? Not because they’d agreed to it, but because she was utterly consumed with him, irrevocably owned by him? The pain was nothing to give him this—one more thing to link them together long after they’d said goodbye. He’d always be the first to feel her this way, to break down her every last barrier.
He pulled out and edged in deeper. She felt a little mor
e of him and hurt a little less with each push. “That’s it,” he said. “Just relax. Let me do all the work.”
She swallowed and swallowed, her throat impossibly dry. He moved off her body, and she realized she was sweating—or he was, or they both were. He put both hands on her ass and leaned into her, spreading her, thrusting, splitting her apart, holding her together. All she could do was groan, unable to process so much happening at once.
“All right?” he asked. He was gritting his teeth.
Every part of her that touched the bed was sweating now. “Yes,” she exhaled.
“I won’t last long. Just watching you is enough.” When she’d think he was all the way in, he’d pull out a little and go deeper still. “Give me your hand,” he said.
She bent her arm around to her lower back, and he laced his fingers with hers. He picked up speed, became less gentle. She couldn’t tell who was grasping whose hand.
Any shame she’d been clinging to dissolved as he fucked her most intimate spot. He filled her, all of her, discovering her, claiming her—from the inside. She had to know he was feeling this too. “What’s it like for you?” she asked.
“I just feel you, baby, like fucking heaven.” He panted over her, squeezing the life out of her ass and her hand. He stopped moving, still squeezing, still panting. “I want you to feel me back,” he said. “Move on me. Make yourself come.”
She was hesitant at first, even though she would’ve done anything he asked at that moment. It was counterintuitive, but she pushed back onto him, then forward into the mattress. She did it again—back and forth, her hips up and down, riding him slowly, taking every inch. When her need surpassed her timidity, she gyrated harder, faster, grinding against the bed, feeling his cock so fat inside her that there wasn’t room for anything else in her body. She became fueled by an insane need to get off, by Beau’s primal grunts she’d never heard before—not even the times he’d fucked her to the hilt, every muscle in his body strained. Her backing onto him was doing something to them both. Her fist was a vise around the comforter as she pulled and pushed. She opened her mouth, but her screams were silent, that was how hard she came—so intense and blinding, so unlike anything she’d felt before.
Explicitly Yours Series Page 26