The Billionaire's Sub

by M. S. Parker

  When Cross came back into the room, he was on his phone, his expression serious. He was talking low, so I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but as soon as he hung up, he came over to the couch and sat next to me.

  “I’m sure the cops will do their best,” he said. “But I have a private investigator on retainer and I’ve asked him to look into it as well. The lab will send him your test results too, if that’s okay with you.”

  I nodded. I didn’t have anything to hide. I didn’t even mind that Cross had done it before asking me if it was okay. I could barely think now, much less make decisions.

  “Mars will call me as soon as he finds something.”

  “Mars?” I gave him a blank look, and was rewarded by that half-smile I was beginning to like too much.

  “The PI. His name’s Mars Roster.” Cross shrugged. “I guess his dad was something of an astronomy buff.”

  Dad.

  Shit.

  Our parents. RJ. Yet another thing I didn’t know how to deal with. When should I call them? Did they need to know right now or was it too early? I knew Juliette would be mad if I got them all worked up if this was just a big misunderstanding. But if something really was wrong, wouldn’t she want them to know? And what if I had been drugged? Even if nothing was wrong with Juliette, should I tell them that? Wouldn’t it just be proof to them that I’d made the wrong decision by coming here?

  I closed my eyes and rubbed my temples.

  Cross didn’t bother to ask the inane question about whether or not I was okay. Instead, I felt the couch cushions shift, and then strong hands slid over my shoulders. I couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped when his fingers began to knead the tight muscles in my neck. I bent my head forward and turned my back toward him, wanting more. When the massage moved across my shoulders and then down my spine, I could barely suppress a moan.

  Between making arrangements to move, finals, graduation, telling my parents I was leaving, and then the past week of being here, the party...all of that alone had been enough to stress me out. Add in my new knowledge about Juliette’s lifestyle and then going to such an unusual club. Then Juliette’s disappearance and the mystery of what may or may not have happened to me, and I was about ready to explode.

  A pair of strong thumbs pressed against the base of my spine, reminding me that there was one other thing causing some stress. My defenses were too low. I couldn’t deny the way my body was responding to his touch. Heat was spreading through me, an ache forming between my legs.

  “It will be okay,” he said quietly, his voice right at my ear. “Let me take care of you.”

  I turned toward him, opening my eyes and tilting my head so I could see his face clearly. I wanted to see his expression when I asked my question, and when he answered. “Why?”

  “Why what?” he asked.

  “Why are you doing this? Why do you want to take care of me?” Another part of me wanted to know why I should let him, but deep down, I knew I didn’t have to ask that. Once I knew his motives, I wouldn’t need to ask him what my answer should be.

  He cupped the side of my face, his thumb brushing the corner of my mouth. His forehead furrowed slightly, and I could tell he was considering my question.

  “I don’t know,” he answered. “But I’ve felt like I should be protecting you from the first moment I saw you at the party. It didn’t matter that you were standing there, looking completely confident in whatever you were doing. I felt like I should’ve been right at your side.”

  “You didn’t know who I was then,” I pointed out.

  “I know,” he said. “That’s what’s so strange. I’d gone to the party, fully intending to approach Juliette, wanting the challenge of her, but when I saw you...I don’t know.” He shook his head as he slid his hand down to the back of my neck, his thumb now pressed against my fluttering pulse. “Let me take care of you,” he repeated.

  “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.” My brain sluggishly tried to apply logic while my body protested.

  He brushed his lips across mine, the gentlest of kisses. “If you leave, and I don’t know where you are or what’s happening to you...” His eyes darkened as he rested his forehead against mine. “Don’t do that to me.”

  I knew what I should do. What the smart thing would be. And I’d always done the smart thing.

  I closed the short distance between us, my lips embarrassingly eager against his. I felt his start of surprise, the briefest of pauses, and then he was kissing me back. There was nothing gentle or hesitant about this kiss. It was all-consuming, a hunger that I’d never felt before. His hands slid around my back, fingers playing at the bare skin revealed there. The dress wasn’t slinky or sexy, but it did expose enough skin that he could find places to touch without being too forward.

  I buried my fingers in his hair, holding him in place as his tongue explored my mouth, his teeth scraping my lip. I gasped when he bit down, sucked my bottom lip into his mouth. My body tightened, throbbed in response. I scratched my nails against his scalp, and his fingers dug into my back as he pulled me closer. My breasts pressed against his chest, nipples hardening against the fabric.

  I never wanted to stop. I wanted to feel his skin against mine, his lips on my body, his cock inside me.

  I pulled away and, for a moment, thought that he wouldn’t let me go, that Juliette had been right when she’d told me to stay away from him. Then he released me, moving back, his breathing as heavy as my own.

  “I don’t know if staying is such a good idea,” I finally managed to gasp.

  He turned toward me, but didn’t try to touch me. “Stay. I’ll keep my hands to myself. I promise.”

  As I gazed into his eyes, I agreed with a slight nod, even as I silently wondered if I’d be able to make the same promise. Even with everything going on…even with all my fears and uncertainties…I wanted him.

  Chapter Eleven

  I had to admit, when I agreed to stay with Cross while the police and his PI did their work, I hadn’t really expected him to keep his promise not to touch me. But he did. We watched a movie together. Ate some expensive delivery for dinner and talked.

  He told me about how his family had always made him work hard even though he was the only one in line to inherit their fortunate. I told him about growing up in Ohio with middle class parents. He told me how his parents had been killed in a car crash just after he’d graduated from college, and how he didn’t have any other family. I told him about being the youngest of three siblings, and the youngest of over a dozen cousins.

  We had absolutely nothing in common aside from our degrees in business, though mine had come from OSU while his was from Princeton. Different economic and social backgrounds. He’d been born and raised in Hollywood, as far from southern Ohio as one could get. The sizes of our families, the way we’d been brought up, none of it was even close to being similar.

  But as we talked, I found myself being drawn to him more with each passing moment. There was something about the way he talked, the way he carried himself that told me he was lonely, and that he’d been that way for so long that he’d accepted it as how he’d always be.

  I didn’t want him to be.

  The realization hit me partway through the movie I wasn’t paying attention to and distracted me even more. I shouldn’t have cared if he felt lonely, or at least not more than I would’ve cared about some other near-stranger.

  What I was feeling for Cross, however, was definitely not stranger-ish. It was...complicated. Or, at least, it had the potential to be complicated. I didn’t really want to think about it at the moment. I had enough on my plate. Fortunately, Cross didn’t seem to notice my internal debate, and our conversation continued as normal.

  As it got later, I began to wonder about other things, things better left unsaid. Things that had started with his kiss, his touch. I wondered where he would take me if I reached for him, if I didn’t stop us this time. I knew what I’d seen at the club, and what Juliette had told
me, both about Cross and about what it meant to be a Dominant. I knew that he wouldn’t do things the way my ex had done them. A part of me shied away from that idea, away from the unknown. But another part of me – a part I’d never truly acknowledged until now – wondered how I would feel about trying any of the things Juliette and I had talked about.

  “I can have my housekeeper pick up a few things for you before she comes over tomorrow,” Cross said suddenly. “I’m assuming you’d prefer not to wear either that dress or the clothes from the club tomorrow.”

  That brought back a question I hadn’t thought of since I’d gotten up. “How did you know what size to get? It fits perfectly.”

  His gaze ran over me. “Yes, it does.” His eyes met mine again. “I had her get one based on the clothes we sent to the cleaners.”

  That made sense. “She doesn’t need to do that,” I said. “I’m sure I can go back to the apartment first thing–”

  He stopped me with a simple touch, his fingers on mine. “Let me take care of you, Hanna. Until we find Juliette.”

  I didn’t know when things had gone from me to we, but I couldn’t say that I minded. Especially here, where I didn’t know anyone, it was good to have someone on my side.

  “The guest room is yours for as long as you need it,” he said. He stood and held out a hand. I took it and he pulled me to my feet. “And I’ll make sure you have something more comfortable to wear tomorrow.”

  “What about tonight?” The words popped out of my mouth before I could stop them.

  His fingers tightened on me briefly, then he let go. “I’m sure I can find you something.”

  For a moment, I wanted to tell him that I could sleep in the nude...and that he could sleep with me. Then the moment was gone, and I remembered that sleeping with him would be a bad idea.

  So I didn’t say anything. And he didn’t say anything. He disappeared into another room and emerged a minute or so later with a shirt in his hand. He handed it to me, letting his fingers linger on mine for a second longer than he needed to. Then he was saying good-night, and going back into that room again.

  It was easier falling asleep than I thought it would be, than it should have been, considering all that’d happened. I knew a part of that was pure exhaustion, but I also knew that another part was because I’d curled up in his shirt and breathed in the scent of him until the darkness came.

  When I woke up, it didn’t take me long to remember where I was or what had happened. It also didn’t take me long to see that there were clothes on the chair again. This time, there was a selection, and none of them were dresses. I selected a pair of jeans and a stylish shirt that I knew was more expensive than pretty much anything I’d ever owned before, and headed to the kitchen. If I didn’t find Cross there, at least I’d get a cup of coffee.

  He was there, though, sitting on a barstool at the counter, frowning at his phone. He looked up when I came in, his expression darkening for a moment before he smiled.

  “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

  “I did, thank you.” Heat flooded my cheeks as I thought about how I’d slept in his shirt, how I’d dreamed about him. “Can I top you off?” I carried the coffeepot over to the counter.

  He nodded, pushing his mug toward me. I filled it and then filled my own before sliding onto the bar stool next to him. His kitchen was huge. I’d thought Juliette’s place had been big, but it was nothing compared to this.

  “Bad news?” I asked as I took a sip, letting the heat and caffeine work their way into me.

  Cross took a drink, then looked over at me.

  Shit.

  I could feel the color running from my face, taking all of my warmth with it.

  “Juliette?” I barely whispered her name.

  He reached over and put his hand over mine. “No word yet on where she is.”

  “But you do know something.”

  The corners of his mouth tightened. “Mars got back to me,” he said. “My PI. He’s been working all night and had a couple things, including your test results.”

  “That was fast,” I said, trying not to think of all of the horrible things that he was about to tell me.

  “The lab found trace amounts of GHB in your urine.” Something dark and ugly crossed his face. “It was out of your blood, but I guess it only stays there for six to eight hours.”

  “So someone slipped something into my drink,” I said it more because I needed to hear it rather than as a confirmation of a fact.

  “Looks like,” he said. There was an edge to his voice that made things low inside me twist.

  I took a slow breath, and then another drink of my coffee. I would need to process what happened to me – the whys, hows and whos – but I needed to hear the rest first. Juliette, then me.

  “Did he find anything about my sister?” I asked.

  Cross nodded. His expression was still grim, but it’d lost that extra bit of...something that had been there before.

  “He’s sending me the full report if you want to read it, but the short version is that he’s found out that, the night of the party, Juliette had some trouble with the company van.”

  “I already knew that,” I said, frustrated. “She told me. That’s why I was running things.”

  He nodded, then leaned forward, turning so that his knee brushed mine. “Mars went to the shop that’s fixing the van and talked to the mechanic. It wasn’t car trouble. Someone cut the brakes. Your sister was just lucky she rolled into a fence instead of the brakes going out in the middle of the highway.”

  I stared in shock. “Did…did they tell Juliette that?” I was trying hard not to think about all of the ways she could’ve been hurt. I’d seen too many mangled cars brought into my family’s auto shop.

  Cross shook his head. “She actually told them. Apparently, she tried to find out what happened herself while she was waiting for a tow truck.” There was admiration in his voice, and I felt a faint stab of jealousy.

  I pushed it aside. “We all learned most of the basics growing up. She’d know what cut brake lines look like. Why didn’t she call the cops?”

  Cross raised an eyebrow. “I only know your sister by reputation. You grew up with her. You tell me why you think she didn’t.”

  I sighed. “Because she wasn’t surprised and she wanted to handle things herself.”

  “That’s what I’m thinking,” he agreed. “And I know why she wasn’t surprised. My PI also found some evidence that supports the theory that Juliette has a stalker.”

  Chapter Twelve

  My jaw dropped. “Excuse me?”

  Cross linked his fingers between mine in a comforting gesture. “He doesn’t have anything definitive, but he’s worked stalking cases in the past, and he knows what the signs are. He’s pretty sure that someone’s been following Juliette, probably sending notes, emails. He’s going to dig deeper, see what he can find.”

  I suddenly felt light-headed, my body limp. “A...why...I...” I couldn’t seem to get a sentence out.

  “You’re wondering why she didn’t tell you.” He made it a statement rather than a question.

  I nodded, unable to do much of anything else. My stomach was churning, and not in a good way.

  “Your sister’s first instinct will always be to protect you.” He raised our hands, a speculative look in his eyes as he bent his head and brushed his lips across my knuckles. “You do tend to bring that out in people.” The words seemed to be more directed at himself than at me, almost as if he was figuring something out.

  I pulled my hand away. I wanted the strength he offered, but I needed to think, and it was hard enough without adding in him as a distraction.

  “What do we do now?” I asked, thankful my voice wasn’t shaking. I had to be an adult about this.

  “First,” he said. “We call our detective friends. They need to know all of this. It changes things. It’s no longer a coincidence that someone slipped you drugs the same night your sister pulls a vanishing act.”


  My throat tightened. “You think the same person who drugged me took Juliette?”

  He shrugged, but there was nothing casual about the gesture. “Or there’s more than one person involved.”

  I liked that even less than my own thought. Then I caught his expression and knew there was more. “What are you thinking?”

  “Maybe it wasn’t someone trying to drug you to get you out of the way so they could grab Juliette.” He stood and ran his hand through his hair, but he didn’t look at me. “Maybe someone was planning on taking you, too.”

  ***

  I didn’t tell Cross, but his theory was freaking me out. The idea that someone would want to stalk and kidnap my sister was bad enough. Thinking that they’d drugged me so they could take me too had me wondering if maybe my parents were right and I never should’ve left Ohio.

  While Cross called the detectives to fill them in on what his PI had uncovered, I was left to debate whether or not I should call my parents. Part of me wanted to. I wanted them to catch the first plane to California, to be the adults and tell me it’d be all right. I’d never liked feeling helpless, and I’d never been one of those kids who went running to her parents every time something didn’t go her way. But there were times I’d wanted the strength and safety of my parents’ arms.

  Now was definitely one of those times.

  Except I couldn’t think that way. I had to think about the big picture. Had to remind myself that Juliette hadn’t been officially declared missing. I knew my parents and knew their attitude toward my sister. They loved her, I knew that, but I also knew that they saw Juliette as the black sheep in the family. She was the one who’d left first, the one who made decisions they didn’t agree with. If I called them, they’d want to know where I’d last seen her. Even if I just told them that we’d gone to a club, they’d think it was her fault for not only what happened to her but what also happened to me. They weren’t usually the sort of people who blamed victims, but I knew they’d blame Juliette.