Billionaire's Amnesia: A Standalone Novel (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (Billionaires - Book #9)

by Claire Adams

  “Sit with me,” Xavier stated, tapping at the area on the couch just next to him. I raised my eyebrow and danced toward him, allowing myself to fall into his lap. I wrapped my arms around his neck, feeling a bit of the alcohol taking hold of my mind.

  “I like this music,” he whispered to me. Our noses were so close together. He closed his eyes. I felt like, in this moment, everything was perfect in the world. I didn’t have to think about his wife; I didn’t have to think about Jason and what he wanted me to do. I didn’t even feel his grip around my neck anymore.

  Suddenly, the president’s lips were on mine. I grew nervous and broke away in an instant, huffing lightly.

  Xavier righted himself a bit, still clutching me close to him. “Are you all right? Do you want to go home?”

  I shook my head, feeling his dick rising beneath me. I wanted him. I leaned toward him once more and our lips caught each other again, easing us into a strenuous makeout session. I felt his tongue over mine, needing me. Wanting me. He wrapped his arms around my body and clutched at my dress, pulling it apart in a supreme ripping motion. I cried out into the world, knowing that the Secret Service agents could hear us, just a room away.

  My breasts spilled into his face and he licked at the hard, red nipples with his tongue, bringing his fingers onto my hot, dripping pussy. I whimpered, feeling the mass of him beneath me. I brought my hands to his belt and began undoing it, allowing him to come free. I held the pulsing bulge in my hand and gazed at Xavier in the eye, not sure if this moment was real. Could it be? I couldn’t be sure.

  I stood, bringing him with me. We stood half-naked, kissing each other. “Oh, baby. Yeah,” I called to him as he stuck three, then four of his fingers into my dripping pussy. I felt so hot for him, so natural there before him.

  Suddenly, I pushed him down on the couch. I spun around and placed my body over his, my butt toward him.

  “Yeah, baby,” he called to me. He grabbed my ass with his broad hands, and I caught his hot, pulsing dick in my pussy. I felt it all the way in my G-spot as I rode him backward, leaning further and further toward his feet. He jerked a bit as he felt the pleasure of it, spanking me all the time. I felt my breasts bouncing; I grabbed his balls with my hand and caught them up around my pussy, making him sigh and call out.

  Right when I was about to come, I started calling his name. “Yes, Xavier. Yes!” And he reached up, in that moment, and brought his hand around my mouth. His grip was firm. My heart began to beat so fast. I knew I liked this, in a strange and kinky way. I knew this turned me on. But why--?

  “Shh,” he murmured. “Shh.” He loosened his grip over my mouth.

  I understood, then. I spun around once more and found myself face to face with him, his great dick still in my pussy. I smiled at him. “Sorry, baby,” I whispered.

  He nodded, his eyes closed and his eyebrows high on his face. He loved every inch of me, everything I did with my body. He brought his hands up to stroke my breasts, my side. I sighed into him, kissing his chest. I moved my pussy from his dick and instead brought my mouth around it, licking it with my great, dripping tongue. I pulled my whole mouth around it, all the while thinking—God, I’m giving the president a blowjob. God, it’s happening.

  Xavier brought his hand over my ear, over my hair as I did it, lightly stroking my skin. “God, baby. That’s so good,” he murmured. His dick was pulsing in my mouth.

  Just as I sensed he was about to come, I removed my mouth from his dick and took a step back, away from the couch. I watched as he cowered in the pain of it—in the certainty that he would never come, not again. I laughed for a moment.

  “Why do you do this to me?” he called, tapping his chest like a gorilla.

  I shook my head and leapt into his arms once more. He swung my body around and penetrated me from above, allowing me to rest my head and enjoy his power and process over me as we made love like humans: face-to-face, with such passion exhibited between us.

  “Oh, baby. I’m going to come,” he muttered. I could feel him so deep inside me, and I wanted this. I wanted this. I wanted to be in his arms. I couldn’t remember another time that had ever existed in my life before this. Never.

  Finally, he came, roughing into me until the storm was over. He fell from me and wrapped his arms around me and turned toward me, dipping his nose into mine. I sighed and allowed my head to loll back. We gazed into each other’s eyes. My happiness was growing in my heart, in my lungs. I could feel my toes tingling with it: the strange joy of this.

  I knew it couldn’t last forever. But God, if it wasn’t good for the occasional evening.

  “This doesn’t have to be the last time,” Xavier suddenly blurted, jerking us out of the silence of the moment.

  I pulled myself up on my elbow and gazed at him, uncertain of what to say. I sighed. “Xavier. You’re married,” I whispered. I kissed his nose, his mouth once more.

  But Xavier didn’t take this excuse. Instead, his eyes grew more intense. He bit his lip and wrapped his fingers tightly around my naked shoulder. “Baby. I don’t think you really understand what I’m saying here,” he murmured.

  My heart was racing. I was worried, suddenly, that this was all a scam—that Jason had put him up to this, that they had “caught me in the act” of forcing the president to cheat. I felt the anxiety pushing through my veins, and I pushed back, away from him. I placed my naked foot on the ground, planning my escape. God. I jostled my head. Why did I always let myself get into these terrorizing scrapes?

  But he didn’t say anything for a moment. His face seemed completely calm. It wasn’t searching for anything from me. “I have to tell you something, I think,” he whispered.

  I swallowed, preparing for the worst. The soft lamp and the music were dwindling in the backdrop of my mind, creating a soft palate, a sort of dreamlike world. “What is it?” I whispered. I still felt the urge to run.

  He swallowed. “I think—I think I love you.”

  My jaw dropped.

  My entire body grew so rigid, forcing me into a state of shock. My eyes said it all: I was panicked. I couldn’t be in love with this man—the married President of the United States. What’s more, I couldn’t be in love with anyone. I couldn’t fall in love. It was against my programming. I needed to be on my game all the time. I couldn’t falter away just for some man.

  Although, I reminded myself, that was exactly what had been happening the previous few weeks. I’d been wrapped up in Jason’s game, constantly doing his bidding. I’d been too wrapped up with anger and resentment and fear—fear for my love of Xavier, surely—to really notice that I’d fallen for him.

  But I had to snap out of it. “Xavier.” I brought my hand across his shoulder. “I really like this. I like what we’re doing here. It’s a great deal of fun.” I watched his eyes as they spoke of such disappointment. I swallowed. “But we’re just having fun. That’s all.”

  Xavier righted himself on the couch, removing his arms from around my shoulders, my body. He hung his head in his hands, looking like the very portrait of sadness. He sighed.

  Panicked, I flung myself up. I laid my hand on his back. “Xavier, that doesn’t mean I don’t want this—I don’t want this—“

  But his face had caved in a bit. He shook his head slightly, biting his lip. “I’m going to leave her.”

  My jaw dropped. My heart was beating so fast in my chest suddenly, I thought I was going to have a heart attack. Unsure of what to say, I just began stroking his back with my light fingertips, ready to listen.

  “We’ve been growing apart for a long time. And now—with my feelings for you—“ He shook his head then. His eyes were searching ever around the room. “I can’t turn my back on this.” He brought his hand on my knee and rubbed at the skin, tracing up toward my pussy.

  God, how he knew his way around my body.

  “With my feelings for you, I’m ready to take the final step.”

  I just looked at him, my sexuality stirring. I didn’t
know whether to kiss him or smack him across the face. I didn’t know how to tell him that leaving his wife and admitting this affair to the world would officially ruin my career. I didn’t know how to tell him that this—this love of his was exactly what I wanted, in so many words. And yet: it couldn’t be the answer to all my troubles.

  “Say something,” Xavier whispered to me, bringing his hand up to my ear, gazing into my eyes. “Please, Amanda. Say something to me. Anything.”

  But I couldn’t find the words. I felt like I was caught between several different worlds, lost in a moment of strain and terror.

  And somewhere, in the background, I could somehow hear Jason laughing as he plotted his to ruin my life—to alter the course of my love. I brought my hands around my waist and bit my lip, not ready to say anything at all.

  POWER #3

  Chapter One

  Finally, after not speaking for what seemed like years, decades even, he pulled away from me. I watched in stunned silence as he brought his clothes around his pulsing muscles, as he pulled his boxers up around his waist. He spun around and began buttoning his shirt, watching me all the time. There was such tension between us—something I couldn’t possibly break, I knew, even if I tried.

  I opened my mouth. Feeling my stark nakedness, I’d begun to grow cold. But all the while, my heart beat faster and faster in my chest. I felt like a scared rabbit, so close to my death. But without a final goodbye, without a final word, Xavier exited the small room of the White House. And I was in the candlelit darkness once more, on my own.

  I sighed and brought my face into my hands, rubbing at my temples a bit. He’d said the words. He’d said he’d leave her. But that couldn’t be so. I had so much to live for, beyond marriage. He’d made a commitment to that woman, and I wasn’t to be the one to refute that commitment. I understood that presidents did not get divorced. They held their wives beside them, no matter what. Even Clinton, in the midst of that terrorizing scandal, had stood by Hillary.

  I righted myself on the couch and heard a sigh from outside the door. It startled me, and I quickly covered my breasts with my clothes. I called out, “Who’s there?”

  The man grunted outside the door. The predatory instincts of it made my toes curl. “Hello?”

  Finally, he spoke. “It’s just me, Amanda. Dimitri.”

  My heart began to dull in my chest. So Dimitri was waiting for me outside, waiting for me to get dressed once more. My ex-friend turned Secret Service agent. I found the words: “Be—be there in a minute!” The syllables quivered.

  I brought my dress around me once more and slotted my feet into my stilettos. I righted myself and tapped toward the door, taking a final look at where it had happened, where I’d felt the greatest pleasure of my young life, where I’d learned that the most powerful man in the world was falling in love with me. I sniffed and spun back around, pushing through the door. I nodded to Dimitri. “You want to take me home?” I whispered. I felt a small tear fall from my large, orb-like eyes.

  He nodded curtly, looking at me with a confused, earnest expression. He couldn’t ask me any questions that he wanted to ask. He was a cold and stoic Secret Service agent now. He brought his arm out for me and I accepted it, walking without a great deal of stability toward the door. I was going to get home.

  I sat in the back of the black, sleek vehicle and breathed into the window, watching the way the fog grew from my mouth. We whisked past the monuments. I called up to Dimitri in a harsh, empty voice. I told him to take me to a different address—to the address of Rachel. The thought of returning to that camera-laden apartment where Jason could watch me shivering with fear and anticipation made me queasy.

  Dimitri swept the car toward Rachel’s apartment and stopped curtly, forcing me nearly out of my seat. I hadn’t been buckled in. I brought my hands over my waist and coughed a few times, feeling the anxiety of the evening pass through me. “Thank you, Dimitri,” I whispered. And then, I was gone.

  I skirted up the steps toward Rachel’s apartment. I knew she’d be home; I knew that she was a homebody, now—that she was so different than the woman I’d met all those years ago, when we’d been ready to take on the world. But really: I didn’t feel any more ready, in that moment, than I ever had. I felt that I wanted to cower beneath something, at least for a while, before conquering anything once more.

  I tapped at the door. I heard soft feet scamper toward it, and then I saw Rachel’s tired, if beautiful, face in the crack. “Amanda. I didn’t think you’d be back tonight,” she stated, yawning a bit as she did it. She unlocked the latch and allowed me to enter. I flumped onto the couch and brought my feet up under my body. I looked at her, shaking my head. “I don’t think it’s safe at my apartment,” I whispered.

  She knelt down toward me, her eyes frightened. “What do you mean?”

  But I couldn’t tell her about the concrete knowledge I had about Jason; I couldn’t tell her the real reason he’d followed me, caught me on film. She couldn’t know. She probably didn’t think much of me as it was. “It’s just a feeling I have,” I laughed, still giving off that frightened, little bird expression. “I can’t explain it.”

  Rachel nodded, her eyebrows furrowing. She bit her lip and tapped at my naked knee. “You can stay as long as you need to,” she whispered.

  Ultimately, I fell asleep on the couch like that. The next morning, I called into work, unable to lift myself into the air. Jason smiled into the phone as I told him, “I can’t do it today, Jason. You’ll have to take over my responsibilities, if only for a while.”

  Jason’s tongue snapped at the top of his mouth with satisfaction. I could hear it. “Take all the time you need, Missy.” And then he hung up the phone.

  Rachel brought takeout home that evening and I ate it while wearing her crumpled pajamas, laughing a bit at the small stories she told about her life. I couldn’t remember a single one in the moments after; they glimmered in my mind for an instant and then they were gone. But it was so nice to speak to someone, to feel safe.

  Finally, on Thursday of that week—a full four days later—I returned to work. I kept my head down as I entered the White House, inhaling with my nose and exhaling with my mouth to keep my anxiety down. I’d had thoughts of the president coursing through my head non-stop since that evening when he’d told me too much, when he’d revealed such personal things about himself. I could still see the sort of dull shock in his face as he got dressed and left me, unsure of what else to say after he’d given me his heart.

  I got caught up quickly at work, even talking to Jason for a bit about concrete elements of the campaign. He walked me through a meeting he’d had with the governor of California, and I nodded, asking questions, making notes. I felt like a reproduction of my previous self, even if the image wasn’t precise. Perhaps I would only be smog from there on out, ready to dissipate into the horizon.

  I began writing a rough draft of a press release around lunchtime and worked all the way till 3, allowing my mind to formulate these words and phrases with such precision. I could get through this, my mind kept telling my heart. I could get through this, I could deal with Jason; I could ignore the president forever.

  I stood and began passing out the press releases to the other members of the campaign team, announcing to them our next steps for the education reform discussion. We were filtering it through the country, getting them excited about a brighter, more solid future. I stretched my neck around, allowing my head to loll back. I was exhausted. And I’d hardly thought about the president the entire day.

  I bolted to the bathroom at around 4, down the hall. I felt such a foreboding nature from the Oval Office. I hadn’t seen Xavier and I wondered what he was doing in there. Sitting, staring forward, bringing his fingers together politely over and over again. Like he was plotting something.

  I tapped my cleaned fingers against my blouse as I walked past on my way back to the desk I held at the helm of the campaign team. Suddenly, I heard the Oval Office door
creak open. My head jolted to the left and peered into the earnest expression of Xavier, who was leaning outside the door like a schoolboy.

  The Secret Service agent at the exterior of the office didn’t appear to notice him. His eyes still stood forward, never eyeing the man beside him.

  “Amanda. I’d love to speak with you when you get a moment,” Xavier stated, his eyes dark.

  I took a step away, holding my hand over my heart. It was beating wildly, making me feel faint. I swallowed, searching for words. “Mr. President. I have a good deal to do before I depart for the day.”

  But his voice was harsh. “And I’d love to get a better comprehension for it,” he stated. “I need to talk to my campaign manager. And that’s you. Stat.”

  I gulped and entered the office, following him inside. His angry words seemed to vibrate in my stomach, making me feel ill with their harshness. Xavier walked away, with his back toward me. He sighed in that arena between the two couches, leaning over his desk with his fingers spread wide on the wood. I stood behind him with my hand to my mouth, feeling such anxiety course through me.

  “Mr. President?” I spoke finally, wanting to cut the tension and wanting to make sure he was okay.

  He huffed. “Amanda.” He spun around, his eyes dark once more. But they seemed to plead with me, to say something more. “I need to talk to you.”

  He took a step forward and grabbed both of my wrists—not too hard, but not softly, either. “I said something to you. Something big. Something that meant something to me.” His eyes were so serious. “And you said nothing.”

  My mind searched for the right words to say. I felt that he was acting like a child. But his reasoning for it—the purpose behind this passion—was his true love for me. I bit my lip for a moment, considering. “You—you can’t leave your wife,” I whispered then.

  His eyes jolted to the ground. He still held my wrists tightly. “You know that I’m the most powerful man in the world. You know I can just go say the word, and an entire country you’ve never heard of in your life can cease to exist. You know I can do all that. And yet you’re telling me I can’t leave my wife?”