Billionaire Vacation

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Billionaire Vacation Page 73

by Nella Tyler


  What was I expecting? I wasn't sure. I felt as if something was left undone. It was a part of my personality that I had not really noticed before. I needed a sense of completion. Closure. Resolution. Like my divorce from my first husband had put finality to it. A period. An end. Ben hadn't told me to get out and never see him again. I had not done so, either. Where did we stand? I didn't like hanging in limbo.

  So it was, that night before I went to bed, that I decided that the next time I had a couple of days off, I would attempt to contact Ben. I would put an end to my torture, one way or the other. I had forgiven him for asking me to cheat, and I in turn wanted him – expected him – to forgive me for inadvertently getting him banned from the casino. I didn't expect anything more than that. That would have to be enough.

  Chapter 4

  I waited impatiently for my schedule, determined now to deal with my issues with Ben before I drove myself crazy. I waffled, once again, a sorry trait of mine I realized, between the benefits and drawbacks of talking to Ben about everything that had been going on. Maybe the time away from me had given him time to think, perhaps even realize that what he was doing was wrong and that I was more important to him than maybe he realized. As far as I was concerned, I realized that I couldn't expect everyone to be perfect. Would it be terrible of me to continue to want to see him? I was so torn. This was not something I was used to dealing with. I knew, logically, that I should just break things off with him completely, but my heart was telling me something different.

  Maybe the fact that both of us had time to think would provoke a difference. Perhaps things could be different between us. Perhaps I could get him to give up this crazy idea of cheating. I had no problem with him gambling, as long as he wasn't addicted to it. That would eventually end up causing more problems in the relationship than it was worth. Addicts were addicts. I didn't think Ben was a gambling addict. I think he just enjoyed it and got a thrill out of seeing what he could do and what he could get away with.

  Maybe he was just bored. If he could find something else that captured his attention, maybe he would ease back on the gambling a little bit. Then again, why did I care? We had not even spoken in nearly a week. He had no claims on me, and I certainly had no claims on him. What if the shoe had been on the other foot? What if I had an issue or something that Ben didn't like about me? Would I be willing to change for him? Should I?

  Back and forth. Back and forth. I did that for days. Finally, I decided that enough was enough. I should just find out one way or the other if we could work through it. I finally worked up the courage to go to his house. Once again, I boarded the bus. Just because nothing had happened at work yet didn't mean that something wouldn't. I was still watching every penny, trying to tuck as much money away as I could for emergencies. I would be getting paid in a couple of days, and after paying my rent, I would go shopping. From now on it was cheap, cheap, cheap when it came to food. I could do without a lot of the food that I had gotten accustomed to in my refrigerator.

  By the time I got to Ben's neighborhood, I was once again a nervous wreck. I decided things could go one of two ways. Either he would answer his door and slam it in my face or he would invite me in. I braced myself for the former, but certainly hoped for the latter.

  By the time I walked up his long driveway, I was slightly out of breath. I paused a moment on the front steps, swiped my hands through my hair, wiped the fine sheet of sweat off my face, and took a deep breath. I rang the bell. Once again, it was Ben who opened it after a few moments. He seemed surprised to see me. A slight smile turned up the corners of his mouth and then he stared at me a moment, before taking a step back and inviting me in.

  Well, that was probably a good start, I thought. Once again, he gestured for me to sit in the living room. I did, taking my place on the far side of the couch. He didn't stand towering over me this time, but sat down on the opposite end. I'm sure he wasn't quite sure why I was there, so I got right to the point.

  "Ben, I'm really sorry about what happened. I had no intention of-"

  "It's all right, Maggie. I understand how things can get out of hand like that." He shrugged. "It took me a couple of days to realize that you didn't do anything on purpose. I know that you never meant to hurt me."

  I shook my head. "I would never do anything to deliberately get you in trouble, Ben, and I feel terrible about what happened. I haven't spoken to Savannah since I confronted her about this. For some reason, she's ignoring me, and I can't even discuss it with her. I keep waiting for someone at the casino to call me into the upstairs offices, but so far, nothing has happened."

  "Nothing should happen," he said. "As far as I was given to understand, if I left the casino and didn't come back, that was going to put an end to it."

  While I had to admit that that gave me a little bit of comfort, I wasn't convinced that repercussions or the fallout from the entire situation were a nonexistent issue. I still had to be on my guard and keep planning for the worst-case scenario. At any rate, he seemed to relax, and as he did so, I relaxed, as well.

  "You off today?" he asked. "You have to go to work tonight?"

  I shook my head. "I'm off today and tomorrow."

  He nodded, stared around the room for a moment, and then glanced at me, his head tilted at an angle. "I also have my apologies to deliver," he said. "Can we start over?"

  I thought about it and then nodded. I really did like him, and I was glad that we had seemed to get over the impasse. I decided that I wasn't even going to ask him whether or not he continued to plan on cheating or even which casino he'd been going to lately. To be honest, I didn't want to know.

  I didn't want to spoil anything. It was at that moment that I realized that I had really missed seeing him and being around him. The fact that I had been moping around for days didn't escape me. Still, I decided that nothing could be resolved overnight. For now, we could try to reestablish our friendship, and perhaps even something more.

  "In the mood for a movie?"

  I hesitated. I didn't really feel like going out to a movie theater, and told him so. For one, I wasn't dressed for it, and two, I just didn't want to be-

  "I have a home theater downstairs. How about something like a comedy maybe? Something to make us laugh?"

  He looked at me with an odd expression.

  "I have to be honest for a change, Maggie, and tell you that I've been a little bit down since we had our argument. I need something to lift my mood. Your being here is a good start."

  I felt pleased and nodded in agreement. "Okay."

  He led the way down the hallway and to a closed door. It was a highly polished light oak with the brass handle. He opened it and I saw carpeted stairs leading down. It was cool as I followed him down the stairs. I got slightly envious at the size of his home. I think my apartment probably was five hundred square feet or thereabouts, and here he had a multi-floor home with a dozen rooms and a basement that he had converted into a theater? I shoved the thought out of my head. I was happy with my life. I didn't need to be envious or jealous of anyone. At least, that's what I told myself.

  The stairway opened up into a room that was probably twice the size of my apartment. He was right. It was a mini theater. A large screen hung down from the ceiling at one end. A projection system was mounted on the ceiling at the other. In between was a cluster of upholstered recliners, a love seat, a coffee table, anything and everything someone would need to just kick back, relax, and watch a movie in comfort. Along the side of the wall stood and entertainment center filled with CDs, books, and DVDs. Another small table held a microwave, packages of popcorn, an assortment of glasses, bottles of wine and liquor, and underneath, a small refrigerator.

  I tried to keep from gaping at everything, but I guess he saw the expression on my face.

  "Nice, huh? I've got everything a theater does, right down to the licorice sticks, the popcorn, and the Milk Duds," he grinned. "Make yourself comfortable. What can I get you? A glass of wine? A beer? A soda?”


  "I'll take a diet soda if you've got it," I said. I wasn't surprised when he reached for the refrigerator under the counter. Inside were a wide variety of sodas. He pulled out a diet Coke and lifted an eyebrow. I nodded.

  "What else? Popcorn? Milk duds?"

  I smiled. “Popcorn sounds good.” After all, who could watch a movie without popcorn? He pulled a packet of popcorn from the basket on the counter by the microwave and put it in and set the timer, then moved over to the row of DVDs. He searched the titles for a moment, and then pulled one out. It was only a matter of seconds before the scent of buttery popcorn filled the room. My stomach rumbled and I realized I hadn't had anything to eat today. That was deliberate, because my stomach was upset due to the fact that I had no idea how he was going to react to my presence.

  I sat down on the love seat and began to relax. I didn't really care what we watched because I was feeling such a great sense of relief already. It was the very sense of relief that surprised me. Had I really cared that much what Ben thought? Obviously, I had.

  Once the popcorn was finished, he placed a bowl in front of us on the coffee table. He placed my can of diet cola on a coaster, while he had a regular soda. I was glad he had not chosen alcohol. We began to watch the movie, but it wasn't long before he placed an arm over my shoulder. That's all it took. I glanced at him to find his face mere inches from mine. He was going to kiss me, and I welcomed it.

  His arm cradled the back of my neck as we kissed, the brief touching of lips soon deepening into something more passionate. His arms wrapped around my shoulders while mine threaded their way around his waist. Before long, every cell in my body was tingling with desire. His hands were everywhere, and I soon noticed his erection creating a solid bulge along the inside of his pants. Emboldened by his passion, I rubbed my hand against it, and then tucked my hands into the crotch of his pants, cradling his balls.

  He groaned as his fingers made their way up underneath my shirt. The movie played, but I paid no attention to the sounds, the music, anything but the blood pounding through my veins and the ringing in my ears caused by the intense feelings that surged through me. God, I hadn't realized I missed him so much. In a matter of minutes, we were both divested of our clothes, and I lay beneath him on the love seat. It was kind of awkward, but with my knees bent, with him cradled between them, we managed.

  We stroked, teased, and fondled each other, the greatest, intense moments of foreplay that I had never experienced.

  "Oh my God, Maggie, I missed you so much."

  His voice was soft as he whispered into my ear. His words delighted me. Before long, we were both breathing heavily and I was wet with desire. His fingers probed my slit, and then plunged inside. I gasped. With one hand wrapped around his penis and the other cradling his buttocks, I stroked my hand up and down the soft, silkiness of his shaft, the veins along it growing harder and more engorged by the second.

  Before long, I felt myself swept up in the throes of my desire. My pussy contracted, wanting more and more of his touch. My nipples had turned into hard little pebbles responding to every flick of his tongue as he suckled my breasts and gently tugged on my nipples with his lips. A groan erupted from my throat as I felt the waves of desire building until, with the crescendo of white lights and internal contractions, I felt myself cum. My internal muscles clenched around his finger. He wiggled his finger inside me, his palm rubbing against my clitoris. I wanted him inside me so badly, but I began to push his hand away and tried to urge him to replace it with his cock.

  "Let's go upstairs," he once again whispered in my ear. My knees weak with my sexual release, I followed him, not caring that we were both naked. His penis still hard and erect protruded from his groin at an angle, bouncing as we made our way up the stairs. I was fascinated.

  We fell onto his bed, and then, after he reached into his bedside table, quickly ripped open a condom packet, and rolled the condom down over his erect penis, I lie on my back and spread my legs, reaching for him. He needed no further invitation. He plunged deep into me and then held still while I accepted him. My internal muscles clenched around his shaft, and then he began to pump his hips, slowly and languished at first, and then faster. With each thrust of his hips, I thrust upward with my own, offering a little rotation at the top that seemed to drive him crazy with pleasure.

  Faster. Harder. Then, I felt him stiffen. I sensed his orgasm as he gritted his teeth, threw back his head, and the veins in his neck grew thicker with the strain. Finally, when his own internal contractions had ebbed and pressing himself up onto the palms of his hand, he looked down at where we were joined together. I looked, as well. His curly hairs were nestled among mine, my knees wide spread, his hips settled comfortably in between. We fit perfectly, if I did say so myself.

  *

  I don't know how many times we made love that night. Three? Four? We hadn't always done it the same way, and to say I was a bit sore when I woke up the following morning was an understatement. I lay still for several moments, staring up at the ceiling, nestled comfortably into the very soft sheets of Ben’s bed; the bedding bundled to my waist. I turned my head and glanced at Ben, surprised to find him awake and his eyes riveted to my mounds. I gasped in embarrassment, although I don't know why because he had seen just about every square inch of me.

  I quickly pulled the sheet up to cover myself and then saw a shift in his expression as his eyes met mine. My heart gave a little thump of trepidation. Was something wrong? Had something happened? I turned onto my side, resting my head on my hand. "What's the matter?"

  He shook his head. "Nothing, Maggie."

  I knew he wasn't being honest with me and a surge of disappointment swept through me. After everything that had happened, and after what we had done together last night, he still found it difficult to be open and honest with me? I lifted an eyebrow. "Don't you think we’re little beyond secrets at this point, Ben?" I asked. "You can tell me."

  He said nothing for several moments and then glanced back at me.

  "It doesn't have anything to do with you."

  I shook my head. "We decided to start over, remember? You know I'm not going to let you off the hook so easily. You’re going to have to learn to trust me, just as I'm going to have to learn to trust you. That’s the only way that this relationship, or whatever it is that we have, is going to work."

  Finally, he sighed and nodded. He looked at me, once again assured me that it had nothing to do with me, exactly, but I insisted that he tried to explain anyway. Besides, I told him. I might be able to help.

  He said he doubted it. “Okay, here goes.”

  His voice was soft, and tinged with what I could almost term as regret. Oh my God, he wasn't on the break up with me, was he? Especially not after last night? "What is it?" I prodded.

  "I haven't been completely honest with you."

  While I suppose I shouldn't have been surprised, I was. I wasn't angry, just surprised that there was anything left to say about what had occurred in the days past. "What do you mean?" I asked. I was more curious than anything else.

  "Well, I suppose since we’re starting over, I need to lay my cards out on the table, so to speak."

  I said nothing, my silence encouraging him to continue. I determined that I wasn't going to get angry, and that I would be as patient and understanding as possible. I had to give him a chance to explain whatever it was that was bothering him.

  "It's about how I got my money. Of course, there were a lot of different variables involved and everything had to fall into place just so, but to be honest for a change, I'm not exactly proud of where a lot of my money came from."

  "Get it off your chest, then," I encouraged. "I'm not going to judge you." It was quiet for several moments, so many moments that I began to think that he wasn't going to tell me, after all. Then, with another heavy sigh, he glanced at me.

  "Most of the money, I inherited from my father," he began. “I also have an older brother, a much older brother, but he neve
r got along with my father. In fact, there was such an age difference between us that I never really got to know him that well. By the time I was born, he was already in high school."

  I lifted my elbow, now sitting more upright, still turned toward Ben. I said nothing, but let him continue at his own pace.

  "I was spoiled, no doubt about it. My father was a gambler, and he was quite good at it. He taught me everything I knew. I was always around casinos."

  I guess that explained Ben's affinity for casinos. I nodded for him to continue.

  “My father owned a casino out in Nevada, but he sold it. The problem was, it was a crooked deal, and that's how he was able to make so much money on it."

  "That was your father's deal, not yours, Ben."

  "I know," he said. “But that's not all. When my father died, about five years ago, I inherited everything. He left nothing for my brother."

  Now, that did surprise me. I can imagine how something like that could tear a family apart, even a family that wasn’t very close. I watched Ben as his expression changed and he grew pensive.

  " A couple years ago, my older brother came to visit me. Not here…I didn't live here then. But anyway, he came to ask for some money because he said he was in trouble. It wasn't a lot, just a little bit."

  I had a feeling I knew where this was going, but I still remained quiet, knowing that he didn't necessarily need my opinion or my encouragement. He just needed to get it off his chest. He needed to talk about it. I was a good listener, after all.

  "Anyway, I was young and selfish, and I told him no. I suppose it was all those years that he treated me like I was a nuisance and interloper. We were never close, but I didn't realize then that it wasn’t merely because of our age differences. We had nothing in common. Anyway, I found out that apparently my brother had a gambling problem, and he needed the money to get the loan sharks off his back." He shook his head. "It was only like twenty-five grand, but I still said no. I wouldn't give him any."

 

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