The Billionaire's Sub

by M. S. Parker

  I couldn’t do that to her, and I couldn’t do that to their relationship. Things were strained as they were. Listening to them accuse her of putting me in danger would break the fragile bond they still had. Once she was found, we’d talk and decide what to tell our parents and when. I’d only contact them without her if...

  I pushed the thought away. I couldn’t dwell on the possibilities of ransom and blood and a body. I’d always considered myself a strong person, but this was stretching me to the limit. Juliette was my big sister, and she’d always looked out for me, even more than RJ had. Even when she’d been away, her presence had always been there. My childhood hadn’t been perfect, but I’d never been exposed to the tragedy of losing someone close to me in a sudden and violent way. The only funerals I’d attended had been two sets of great-grandparents, all of whom had died in their sleep of old age. I didn’t know how to deal with the idea that Juliette was...gone. And I couldn’t handle thinking that would be forever.

  I took a shuddering breath, struggling not to cry. There was one person I did have to call, no matter how much I didn’t want to talk to her. It was Monday morning, and since the party on Friday had gone late, I knew Juliette had given her people Monday off. I didn’t know what to do about tomorrow, however, because even if Juliette came back today, I doubted she’d be in any shape to go back to work first thing.

  I made the call to Emmalyn, and kept it as short as I could. I had to tell her that no one knew where Juliette was, but I didn’t tell her about the stalker, the van, or my own incident. I just needed her to send me Juliette’s appointments, and I’d take care of any business contacts that needed to be made. She offered to call the staff, which I appreciated since I still didn’t know them very well. When the call ended, I was pleasantly surprised at how well it had gone. Emmalyn hadn’t tried to argue even once.

  I hung up just in time to hear the tail end of Cross’ conversation.

  “No, I’m sure. I’ll pass along your offer, but I don’t think it’ll be necessary.” He paused, and then added, “Thank you. I’ll be in touch.”

  He was just lowering the phone from his ear when I asked, “What offer?”

  He turned toward me, his expression guarded again. I was beginning to see that this was his go-to way of looking, and I wondered how much of that was to keep himself from being hurt.

  “Detective Bison is concerned for your safety, and I can’t necessarily say that I disagree.”

  I shrugged, hoping it looked more convincing than it felt. “No one’s tried to get me here.”

  “That was my point exactly.” Cross closed the space between us until he was only a few inches away. “The detective offered you police protection should you wish to return to your apartment and your job.”

  “It’s not my apartment,” I said automatically. I looked down at my hands as a new flood of emotion came over me.

  “Hanna.” His voice was gentle as he cupped my chin and raised my head until I was looking at him. “What is it?”

  I could feel the burn of tears as I told him what I’d only just now realized. “This isn’t home. I mean, not here...but here’s part of it. Hollywood isn’t my home. That apartment isn’t home. I’ve only been here for a week and the only part of this place that felt like home was my sister and she’s...” I couldn’t finish the sentence.

  “Do you want to go home?” he asked. He dropped his hand. “Is that what you need? To go back to Ohio, to your parents?” His mouth tightened slightly, the only indication I had that he didn’t like the idea. “I can have you on a private plane within the hour.”

  For a moment, I was tempted. I could see myself getting off the plane. Hugging my mom. Going home and eating a home-cooked meal. Crawling under fresh-washed sheets in my old bedroom, surrounded by my old things. I wouldn’t have to do anything else. The police could deal directly with my parents. Emmalyn could deal with work. I could let it all go and not have to be the grown-up.

  No.

  I shook my head. “I don’t want to go back to Ohio, but I can’t go to the apartment by myself. Even if there were cops outside, I wouldn’t feel safe.” Another shuddering breath to try to keep the tears at bay. “I don’t know what to do.”

  He brushed wayward curls back from my face, letting his hand linger, fingers tracing my cheekbone, my jaw, my lips. “You let me take care of things for you yesterday. Will you let me take care of this as well?”

  I nodded, the relief that went through me so great that I closed my eyes. I’d never considered myself the sort of woman who needed a man. I’d certainly managed to survive so far without one, and my career path had never been dependent upon whether or not I was in a relationship, married or not. But there was something to be said for being able to relax into his touch, to know that he would look after me.

  Cross wasn’t being domineering, telling me what to do or treating me like a child, all of the things that I’d always associated with those sorts of relationships. When Juliette told me that Cross was a Dom like her, I’d assumed those things applied to him even more. But it wasn’t like that. He was asking me to let him be in charge, not just taking what he wanted. He was treating me as an equal, but an equal who he wanted to protect.

  A shiver went through me. If this was how he was in a platonic situation – well, as platonic as it could be after those kisses we’d shared – I could only imagine how he’d be in a sexual relationship.

  I didn’t want to think that way. I trusted him despite how little I knew him, but I wasn’t sure I could trust him with my heart. He didn’t seem like the sort of man who’d be satisfied with a long-term, serious relationship with the goal of marriage. I didn’t think he was a sleazy sort of player, but I had a feeling he was more about the here and now. I definitely didn’t want that. Even if I did want him.

  “We’re going to get out of the city.”

  I opened my eyes as he stepped back and put his hands in his pockets.

  “I can get us up to my cabin without anyone realizing that we’ve left,” he continued. “It’s got great security, and I don’t even think the paparazzi knows I have it. We’ll be safe there.”

  He held out his hand and I reached for it automatically, letting myself feel the rush of warmth as my palm slid across his. He curled his fingers around mine in a protective gesture that made my heart squeeze in my chest.

  “Let’s get you packed,” he said. “I want to get you out of here as soon as possible.”

  I followed him back to the guest room I’d been using and tried not to think about what it would be like to be in a secluded cabin for who knew how long with this man.

  At least he’d be a distraction from worrying about Juliette.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “You said a cabin,” I said as we rounded the corner and I saw our destination. “That’s not a cabin. That’s as big as my entire house back home.”

  “It’s my one indulgence,” he said. Then he grinned. A full-on, dimple-showing, teeth-flashing, smile. “Well, one of a couple indulgences anyway.”

  My stomach did a little flip at the implication.

  “It’s where I come to get away from all of the craziness that living in Hollywood can bring.” He pulled the car into a small but serviceable, single-car garage. “I think it’s one of the things that’s kept me from falling into the vices a lot of people from my background have found themselves in.”

  One of, I thought as he got out and came around to my side of the car. I knew what at least one of the others was, and that curious part of me whispered that I might want to know more about it. The voice had been getting louder the longer I was with Cross, and I still wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

  He opened my door and I climbed out, following him around to the trunk to get the suitcase that held the clothes his housekeeper had bought. There was more of them than I’d realized. I’d expressed my disapproval of him spending money on me, but he told me that if I felt that badly about it, I could donate the cloth
es to a charity when this was all done. I hadn’t been able to argue with that even though I’d still wanted to.

  He took the suitcase, giving me a stern look when I picked up the smaller bag. I narrowed my eyes and waited for him to say something. He didn’t, but his mouth did that twitchy thing when he was trying not to smile. I followed him into the cabin – the house, my mind contradicted – and kicked off my shoes. A stairwell was to our right and he started up that, pausing a few steps down the hall until I got to the top of the stairs.

  “There are three bedrooms,” he said. “The first door on either side are master bedrooms with their own bath. The last door on the right is to a bathroom, the one on the left is to a small bedroom. Take your pick.”

  A part of me was a little disappointed that he didn’t simply lead me into his bedroom, but another part was relieved. I knew that anyone witnessing this situation would automatically assume that he wanted sex in exchange for what he was giving me, but they would be wrong. The fact that he was letting me choose the room told me that he wasn’t asking for anything.

  “I’ll take the other one,” I said with a smile. “I’m sure you have one where you prefer to sleep.”

  He gestured to the door to the right, so I moved to the one to the left. I felt him watching me, but he didn’t say anything, so I didn’t either. We put my things that weren’t really my things down in the room, and then he asked me if I wanted a tour.

  He showed me the two other rooms and the bathroom even though I had my own. Then we went downstairs, and he showed me the living room, the dining room, and the kitchen. He walked past another door without acknowledging it.

  “The porch is enclosed and heated, which is nice when it’s cold but you want to get a feel of being outside.”

  He was just starting to turn around when my curiosity got the better of me and I opened the door he’d passed.

  My jaw dropped.

  The room was about the same size as the bedrooms upstairs. And there was a bed in it.

  But the similarities stopped there.

  I recognized one of the things on the wall as a flogger. I assumed there were names for some of the other things I saw, but I had no clue what those would be. I knew what rope was. Scarves. And I was pretty sure there were some sort of leather restraints.

  I saw all of it and none of it. Pieces of it. The room was done in tasteful black and white, but it was almost glaring. Shocking.

  “I usually keep that door locked.” His voice was mild, almost as if he was discussing the weather.

  I managed to tear my eyes away and look as Cross came to stand next to me. He had that careful expression on again, and his body was stiff, as if he was bracing himself for some sort of blow. His eyes met mine, and held for a few beats before he broke the silence.

  “You’re not running away,” he said slowly.

  I shook my head. “I’m not.” My voice was barely above a whisper, and I couldn’t look away.

  He reached out and ran the side of his finger along my shoulder and up the side of my neck. I shivered, goosebumps breaking out along my skin. Arousal tightened my stomach, brought heat to my cheeks. If a single touch could set me on fire, I wasn’t sure if I’d be able to handle anything else.

  “I want you, Hanna.” His voice was low, caressing my body with an almost physical touch.

  Oh fuck.

  Now should’ve been the time I told him that this wasn’t a good idea, that this wasn’t going to work. I needed to tell him that I wasn’t what he wanted, what he needed. I had to let him know that I wasn’t the sort of girl who had one-night stands, or who would be satisfied being one.

  “I want you,” he repeated. His voice was hypnotizing. “And not just for one night. I want to introduce you to my world, Hanna. I think you’ll like it.”

  The silence stretched as his invitation hung in the air.

  “I don’t know,” I answered honestly, knowing that’s what he’d want.

  If I’d learned anything about him in the past day, it was that he would never push me into something I didn’t want. He stopped touching me, and I took a step toward him, reading some sort of emotion in his eyes.

  “But I’d like to try.”

  He looked down at me, his expression searching for something on my face. For a moment, I was worried that he would turn me down, tell me that if I wasn’t into it, he didn’t want me.

  Then he was kissing me, his lips somehow soft and firm at the same time. His arms went around me, hands finding their way under the back of my shirt. I made a sound like a moan, and his tongue slid into my mouth. He walked me backward into the room, tugging at my clothes.

  He broke the kiss as he pulled my shirt over my head and tossed it onto the floor. He ran his fingers through my hair and held my head so that our eyes locked together.

  “First, I just want you. No toys, no kinks, just you and me.” His eyes were dark, nearly a charcoal gray. “And then I’m going to fuck you in ways you never imagined.”

  I would’ve sworn if I’d have been able to manage a sound at all.

  I was still trying to figure out exactly how I was supposed to respond when he started kissing me again, his lips trailing over my jaw and down my neck. I wasn’t entirely sure when he started taking off my pants, but then I was laying on the bed in just my bra and panties, watching him strip off his own clothes.

  Damn.

  Every inch of him was muscled and hard, firmly cut. Chest, arms, abdomen. Narrow waist, muscled thighs.

  Double damn.

  He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of his boxer-briefs and gave me a look that said if I wanted out, now was the time to say it. I licked my lips, and his eyes flooded with heat. He pushed them down, and then straightened. He wrapped his hand around his half-hard cock and stroked it while I watched.

  Without taking my eyes off of him, I reached behind me and unhooked my bra. He muttered an oath as I tossed the scrap of material aside. He climbed onto the bed, grabbing my ankles and spreading my legs. He leaned down, running his tongue over the thin cotton barrier between him and me.

  I arched up against him, my fingers burying themselves in his hair. I really hoped he was going to do what I thought he was going to do.

  He pulled aside the crotch of my panties and teased the sensitive skin with his tongue. My eyelids fluttered and I forced my eyes to stay open, wanting to watch everything. I didn’t want to miss this.

  Except his tongue found my clit and teased it, sending ripples of pleasure through me, and I could only drop my head back down to the pillow and absorb all of the wonderful things that Cross was doing with his mouth. Tongue and lips, teeth, fingers, moving in and out and over me, coaxing me toward climax.

  Then I was there, falling over the edge, pushing up against his mouth, his fingers. My fingers tightened in his hair until I knew it had to hurt, but he kept up his gentle licks and caresses as I came down.

  He moved even as my body was shuddering, stretching out above me until our faces were level. His lips brushed mine, and then he was pushing up off of me. My befuddled brain couldn’t figure out why until I saw him reach into the drawer of the nightstand and pull out a condom.

  I watched him roll it on, and my stomach clenched with desire so strong that it almost hurt. I didn’t know what I was getting myself into, but I wanted this.

  A lot.

  When he came back to the bed, he settled between my legs and I felt him brush against my entrance. I raised my hips, eager to feel him inside me.

  “Wait,” he murmured, bending his head to give me a surprisingly gentle kiss. He cupped the side of my face.

  “Why?” I reached up to his shoulders, slid my hands down his back to his ass. His entire body tightened when I squeezed, digging my nails into the firm flesh.

  He gave me that half-smile. “Because even I don’t have enough self-control to push inside that tight pussy of yours and not lose it.”

  A thrill went through me and I felt something dangerous try to
emerge.

  Hope.

  Hope that I would be something more to him than some conquest.

  His fingers danced across my skin, over my breasts, my nipples. The skin tightened as he touched me, caressed me. When he gave me a light pinch, I gasped.

  “You said you weren’t a virgin,” he said quietly.

  “I’m not.” I squirmed, wondering if there was some way I could get him to touch me. I was going to go crazy if he didn’t.

  “How many lovers have you had?”

  I stared at him. “You really want to have this conversation now?”

  He looked down at me, silent for a moment, and then he shook his head firmly, as if he’d come to a decision. “No, I don’t.”

  He shifted over me, and I breathed a sigh of release and anticipation. My fingers flexed on his ass again and this time, he moved, sliding the tip of him inside. He rocked against me, giving me a little bit more each time.

  “Please,” I begged. “Please, Cross.”

  “Shh, baby,” he hushed me, leaning on his elbows over me. “I’m going to take care of you.”

  I cried out as he slid the rest of the way inside, stretching me. He stilled, letting my body adjust as he stroked my hair. After a moment, he started to move, his thrusts deep, but not hard. I could feel every inch of him pressing against me, the friction driving soft sounds of pleasure from my mouth until he covered my lips with his.

  I wasn’t sure how much time passed, only that every part of me was on fire, burning until I was sure I’d be consumed. Then I was exploding, pushing my body harder against his, wanting more of him, all of him. I called out his name and felt him stiffen, felt him throbbing inside me.

  If this was the man Juliette had told me to stay away from, she hadn’t understood him at all.

  Chapter Fourteen

  He was stretched out behind me, his fingers tracing patterns up and down my hip and side beneath the sheet. He pressed his lips against my shoulder. I wanted to turn toward him, see his face, but I was too scared. Scared of what I’d see. He was still touching me, so I didn’t think he’d throw me out, but he hadn’t said anything at all since he’d pulled out of me and gotten up to throw away the condom.