Southern Charmed Billionaire

by Frasier, Kristin

  Eureka! I was coming and coming, and he was sucking and biting. His suckling was a little hard, but it felt perfect on my nipples, which were hard as pebbles. Pleasure boiled with intensity until I exploded into my final orgasm, which was so explosive I fell into him, using the last of my strength to latch on to his shoulder. He broke away from my nipples and our lips met, giving me a taste of salt from my own perspiration. I moaned into his kiss until I was delectably spent.

  The bathtub’s jetted wand dropped into the water. I collapsed back into the bath pillow, feeling limp. My breath staggered as I recovered. I turned and caught the look in his eyes; there were contrasting expressions of hunger and satisfaction.

  We lay, encased in the pristine white curtains that danced with the wind, candles, and our passion. The entire scene was the epitome of tranquil beauty and sheer relaxation.

  “I love seeing you brought to the heights of pleasure. It pleases me to pleasure you, to see you feeling the absolute most wonderful sensations life has to offer.” His soft voice kissed the edges of my ear. “And I want to be the only one to give this to you. I don’t want to share you. I want you. Just you.”

  “But what…I mean, what about that night where, you know, the masks, the room…?”

  “What about it?”

  “Do you do that stuff often?”

  “Well, I mean, a man has his needs. But you’re all I want now. You’re all I need.” I didn’t respond, and I figured he could read the doubt in my silence, because he persisted. His fingers lifted my chin. “Hey, look at me. Why don’t you believe that?”

  Feeling emotional and overwhelmed from the intense orgasm and lavish environment, I felt the faintest of tears fill my eyes. I wanted to believe it. I did. But this scared me. I wanted this to be real, however I was just as terrified.

  “Talk to me.”

  There we were, alone in a private villa in Bali, naked in an outside bathtub surrounded by dozens of candles and flowers with the wind, thunder, rain, and the constant waves. If any place would bring out raw honesty, it would be here.

  “Come here.” He cradled me in his arms. I leaned into him, and couldn’t help but to laugh. There was I was in his arms, and there also was his penis, hard and erect, pushing himself between us like a jealous pet.

  I’ll take care of him, I promised telepathically.

  I leaned against him in the most intimate way, loving the way he made me feel safe. Again, he persisted for a response. “I want to know what you’re thinking.”

  I took a breath of courage. “I’ve… I’ve wanted this to be real for so long, for more than you’d ever know.”

  “This is real.” He kissed the top of my head.

  “No,” I sighed, then clarified what I meant. “I mean, sure, our passion is.”

  “Kate, I asked you to be my fiancé, remember?”

  “Of course… But we never spoke about that, since, you know, I fled that scene. But yes, I read that you asked me to be your fiancée.”

  “I have the ring. I can ask you right now.”

  “I just… I can’t make that commitment. I can’t say yes without still feeling this is all sort of a game, an act.”

  He reached for my hand and brought it to his hardness.

  “This isn’t an act.” He flirted with me. I smiled, yet maintained my serious position.

  “I’m serious. It’s a big deal to me, you know? I've had to work hard for every single thing in my life. I've run from my family's shame, priding myself on excellence. And now, just like that—poof—not only did I agree to a very stupid thing –

  pretending to be pregnant,” I clarified, “But now I’m known as a gold-digging whore!? An escort!? Exactly how well does that do for selling cupcakes?

  “Cupcakes are fun! Innocent! Moms are not going to take their children to the Whorehouse Cupcake Cafe.”

  “Awwww, you're not a whore. But you can be mine if you like.” He cradled my head holding me close to his chest.

  “And you! You can't stop making fun! This isn't a joke!”

  “I’m not making fun of you, babe. You’re just really cute when you’re worked up.” His tone was light and soothing. He was doing his best to soothe me, even though I was beyond anxious about it all.

  “This just feels like one big cruel game. I don’t wish to just be liked or pursued because your Granddaddy is dying!”

  There. The truth. I said it!

  “But he likes you. Really likes you.”

  “I'm not going to enter a real relationship with you just because you think it will make someone else happy. I want love for real.”

  “But we've made love for real,” he insisted. “That means something.”

  “You do that all the time at your fancy secret parties.”

  “No, I don't. It's different. Look, you've pulled out deep wells in me. No one else has ever done that.”

  “Because of your Brooklyn EP? You feel like you owe me intimacy?”

  “Well, no. I just can be real with you. Raw. And that to me is what makes a good relationship.”

  “And what about me?”

  “What about you? Don't you like this?” His soft tongue twirled over my collarbone and up my neck.

  I nodded and the faintest of smiles returned on my face, spreading wider by the second.

  “And this...” His husky voice caressed my ear, and he bit my earlobe before kissing my lips, engulfing me in passion.

  “Yes, but what about love?”

  “What about love? You said love.”

  “I'm a committed man. I don't cheat.”

  I took a long breath, surveying the scene and our conversation. This was too heavy. I just couldn’t process it all.

  “Can you just clear up the rumors please and hold off on all this marriage talk? You're sounding like The Bachelor and they only have six weeks before they propose. Insane. It never works.”

  “Look there is power in my name. Use it. Let's get your bakery up and running. If you end up hating me, well, I won't be like your ex, taking your success away. Let me do this one thing for you. You helped me do something I didn't think I could do.”

  It was time to clear the air. No more talking…

  My hand slowly slid down his side and down below as I cupped his balls. Feeling my sensitivity come to life again, I straddled him, his hardness between my tender folds again.

  His eyes held the look of lust, the look of sex—and the look of something more.

  “I care for you Kate. And as much as it scares you, I do love you.”

  I kissed him, ignoring this nonsense. We’d talk about this all later. We had lovemaking to do. My hands raked his hair as he closed his eyes, taking in the pleasure.

  “I love it when you do that. Don’t stop.”

  I continued running my fingers along his scalp and I shook my head. He couldn’t see me, but I couldn’t believe it. I really couldn’t believe that such a powerful man like him, with such an influential name and wealth, wanted me. He could have any woman on this planet and for some reason he wanted me.

  For some reason he found inspiration in… me.

  I was a confident woman; I knew I could turn heads. Yet something about this entire scenario was mysteriously intoxicating. I wanted to indulge in it like fine wine.

  No rushing a 1934 Haut Brion like we had at dinner.

  No, you savor that baby. You inhale, you sip. You taste. That is what I was determined to do in this moment now. Not rating the tasting score, the overall bottle, vintage and year; no. I’d savor, just be in the moment.

  Moment, here I come.

  Here I am.

  With you.

  Here.

  Me.

  You.

  Us.

  Fucking.

  In Bali.

  Hell yes.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Kate

  The light island air was delicious and sweet. It kissed my morning cheeks with gladness as we dined on the table placed on the soft pristin
e sand. It faced the dazzling sea, creating a scene that was mesmerizing, peaceful, and calm.

  Atticus reached for my hand with a concerned look across his face. Oh no.

  “Kate, I’ve made myself not ask you this one bit on this getaway. But I can’t wait any longer. I want to ask you—again—the question that I asked at my Granddaddy’s birthday party.”

  I couldn’t let him get down on one knee and propose. I just couldn’t. It was too fast.

  “Atticus, wait. I can't be your fiancé, but I will be your girlfriend. Your ‘for real’ girlfriend. No pretending. No fake anything. No payments. Nothing.”

  I couldn’t believe I said it: girlfriend. I could be his girlfriend!

  "I like it when you're bossy. It turns me on.”

  “I’m serious, Atty.”

  “Atty, I love the sound of that nickname coming off your gorgeous lips.”

  “I’m serious!”

  “You’re really cute you know.”

  “I’m glad you find my determination cute.” I cocked my head and glared playfully at him.

  “I find it very cute. If I can’t take fiancé, I’ll at least settle for girlfriend. And I’m going to treat you like no one has ever before. I’m going to love you like no one else. And I’ve been thinking about your cupcake line predicament.”

  I burst into laughter. Men were cute sometimes, so cute. “It’s not a line, silly. It’s a food business.”

  “You know what I mean, darling. And I know what to do. I’ll call Kim and get you an exclusive interview in Modern Luxury magazine. She’s the Creative Director and we can get you shot in a gorgeous setting with you dressed in one of those swanky tight dresses that fits your bangin’ body like a glove. And you can be holding a tray of cupcakes. A golden tray, with the most exquisite crystal platter.” His eyes glazed over in thought of his vision, his hands spreading in demonstration.

  I could totally see the image in my mind as well; but as much as I appreciated what he was trying to do—this company, my company—needed to be fully me. I’d have to find a way to explain it to him.

  “But you’re not actually going to be working in the bakery, are you?” He asked in an appalled manner, as if I were cleaning homes instead of making pastries.

  I scoffed.

  “Of course I am! It’s my baby.”

  “But….”

  “But what? Are you going to break up with me because you’re dating a bakery chef?”

  “I’m not going to break up with you, ever.” His possessive hand reached over the table and clutched my hand.

  “The only way to see this bakery through is to oversee everything.”

  “Why can’t you just franchise this? Just go bigger right away and hire managers. Free up your time that way.”

  “Because I like the day-to-day interaction of customers in a small setting. I love being in a community. I love seeing people’s faces light up. I love the nostalgia of getting to know regulars and hearing about what’s going on in their life, much the same way old business used to do. I love that,” I replied emphatically. He really needed to understand this.

  “I don’t want to be a princess locked away in an ivory castle. And I feel like it may be hard for you to understand this. But here is the truth: back in Brooklyn, you know like I told you, I was really, really, really poor. And I felt like the red-headed stepchild among my aunt and uncle, so to speak. Not that there’s anything wrong with red-haired children or stepchildren. You’ve heard the saying right?”

  He nodded.

  “Okay, well, I used to spend my life pretending. I knew that dreaming mattered. I’d take my spare money and instead of saving for new clothes so the mean girls wouldn't laugh at me at school, I'd spend my money to take the subway to Manhattan and stroll the quiet streets of the sparkling elite neighborhood, just hoping to catch a glimpse into their magical world. Those hours nearing sunset were always the best because I'd see the houses transform from chaos to a settling calm. Sometimes, windows would be open, and I’d hear a mother ask her child how school was over a plate of spaghetti as the father picked a meatball off his plate.

  “I lived for seeing and hearing those family moments. It wasn't the wealth I sought; it was the ease of dinner, showcasing a happy meal. Wealth was simply the means that provided downtime to relax around a table and actually talk, actually listen. Food did that. Food brought people to the table, brought families together. That's what I believe lured me into cooking: happy music, happy tunes, laughter. I promised myself I would do whatever it took to have that. And to have that is connected to these hands.” I held them up, showcasing my moneymakers.

  “So to give up something that means so much to me, I wouldn't be able to. Not even if my boyfriend was richer than the Catholic Church or if he was a king. I'd still cook. I’d still tie my apron.”

  “You know, I don’t understand it. Most women would love to just be free and not work, just enjoy a life of ease.”

  “I’m not most women, Atty. I need a purpose beyond being eye candy on a rich man’s arm.”

  He nodded. “But I love you and I love what makes you happy. Are you still going to be my eye candy on my arm at night?”

  “That depends on the night. I’m going to have almond flour on my face a lot; chocolate in my hair during the day. But this is my passion, Atticus. I’m a working woman and that’s never going to change.”

  “Can’t you at least oversee it?” Was he not listening? Hello? Or was he just used to getting his way? Of course, it was the latter. Billionaires.

  I shook my head. “This is me. Space is healthy. You know that. And besides, I’d never take your music away from you.”

  “When you put it like that, I understand.”

  “Exactly.”

  “I’m sorry that I cannot be the perfect southern junior league woman that’s expected to be with you.”

  “I don’t want any other woman but you.”

  “Well, we’ll just see how you feel about that months later.”

  “Okay, you will see then.”

  Not wanting to psych myself out about the future, I stayed on track and continued conveying my heart to him. “Well now, until then I'm going to hustle, Atticus. I'm going to network, and have sample tastings, and share yummy goodies for free while renovations happen and I find the right place.”

  "So you won't take off the free time you have now and travel with me? I'll take you anywhere you've always wanted to go. Eat, drink, and be merry."

  "As amazing as that sounds – and it sounds incredibly amazing - I have a business to attend to. And a lot of planning to do."

  "Will you at least allow me to take you away every once in a while? You have to take some time off. I mean, how ludicrous and time-consuming can cupcakes be?"

  "Are you joking? I'm going to pretend you just didn't say that."

  "Say what?"

  "Nothing. I'm attempting to come up with as many flavors as possible and explore."

  "Well I want to explore every possible way our bodies can move with each other."

  “Okay, then. You can do that, Mr. Wilderness Boy,” I playfully retorted. “But you may have to move back into the city to do just that."

  My tone resumed its serious edge as I said, “But Atticus, I have to warn you: I'm serious about succeeding. I want to do things right. This is my new baby.”

  "But Granddaddy? Are you not going to pretend anymore with me?"

  It pained me to know I knew the secret but couldn't tell anyone.

  "I’ll triple what you've asked," he pushed.

  "Atticus, I want to be your girlfriend and not your employee. All forms of payment from you are going to have to drop. I mean it. If you're serious about me like you say you are, this is the way it's going to have to be."

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Kate

  We landed from paradise and I hit the ground running. From business meetings, to design planning, to taste testings, I didn’t have a spare moment to lose!
/>   While getting ready one morning, the local morning news caught my attention.

  “Shocking rumors are surfacing this morning from the billionaire Branch Estate. I heard this old money family is causing quite the stir with these revelations,” the anchor announced.

  My heart stopped.

  Please don’t let this be about me!

  I turned up the volume and sank on the loveseat, clutching my morning coffee for dear life.

  “Really? Tell me more. Pray tell!” The bubbly blonde asked her co-anchor.

  I rolled my eyes. “They’re real people, too! Just because they’re celebrities, doesn’t mean they don’t have feelings too!” I called out to them as if they could hear me.

  “Well, Kim, here’s what I’ve got so far. Billionaire Atticus Branch the First, the sole proprietor of the Branch Enterprises, has allegedly made up an interesting lie. He faked having cancer, leading his family and loved ones to believe he only had three months to live. Apparently, this was all done in hopes that his grandchildren used the limited amount of time they believed he had left to snap back into action and walk with a new spring in their step.” She enthusiastically reported as if they were discussing the Queen of England!

  An exaggerated cry escaped my lips as I rolled my eyes in disbelief. Don’t get me wrong. I was relieved this wasn’t about me, and I was definitely relieved the secret was out. But couldn’t there have been anything more substantial to report?

  “How about that? A little unorthodox, I’ll say,” Kim retorted.

  “But the interesting thing, Hillary, is that it seemed to work! And rumor has it Atticus the Third had another steamy secret of his own. Or did.”

  “Okay, let me get this straight. He enlisted a girlfriend, right? Who was rumored to be an escort, until those allegations were proven false, correct?”

  “Yes, completely false. You’re right.” She smiled back with the charm of a beauty pageant contestant.