All That He Demands (The Billionaire's Seduction Part 3) Page 3

  “Hold on, I’ll get dressed,” I said – and then realized all my clothes should have been out here in the main room. Where the strip poker game took place.

  But they weren’t.

  I darted a quick look around, wondering if Connor had put them on a sofa –

  “Uh, yeah, I sent those down to get dry-cleaned,” Johnny whispered.

  I must have immediately turned a fire engine shade of red.

  I remembered my panties… how turned on I’d been… multiple times…

  And here a complete stranger had picked them up off the floor.

  Not even the floor of the bedroom. Oh, no. He’d probably found them over by the big-ass glass window of the main room, where I’d let Connor do all sorts of things to me in full view of the Sunset Strip.

  God, I wanted to crawl under the couch and die.

  He smiled. “Relax, I’ve got a girlfriend, okay? I know what a bra looks like.”

  Did she leave her clothes lying all over the place on the first night she met you? I almost asked, but realized I would only be bagging on myself, so I didn’t.

  Instead I said, “But I don’t have anything to wear.”

  “Oh yeah you do,” he answered, and led me over to the clothing rack.

  The closer I got, the nicer everything looked. The bras were amazing, the dresses looked like silk, the tops were gorgeous – and then I got close enough to see the tags on the clothes:

  Gucci. Prada. Dolce & Gabbana. Versace.

  Oh, and let’s not forget the shoes: Balenciaga. Manolo Blahnik. Jimmy Choo.

  I drew back in horror.

  Not in a Yuck, gross! kind of way, but in an overwhelming bout of sticker-shock.

  Johnny misinterpreted my look. “You don’t like them?” he asked, surprised and a little disappointed.

  “No, I LOVE them, but – I can’t – I can’t afford any of that!” I choked out.

  He actually covered his mouth to stifle his laugh.

  “What’s so funny?” I hissed. He might be able to afford fancy clothes, but I sure as hell couldn’t.

  “You don’t have to ‘afford’ any of it,” he said. “Take what you want, it’s yours.”

  I stood there, frozen, staring at him. Then I looked at the clothes.

  The total dollar value of everything hanging on that rack was probably double my annual salary.

  And don’t even get me started on the shoes.

  “I can’t,” I whispered, and shook my head stiffly.

  “Yeah you can,” Johnny said, giving me a quizzical grin. He was obviously quite amused.

  “No I can’t.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s not… it’s not right… I shouldn’t…”

  Suddenly, behind me, Connor’s voice boomed out.

  “HEY GUYS – what’s the holdup?”

  Johnny winced a little.

  I looked around and realized Connor was talking to us.

  To me.

  He was scowling, his hand held over his phone again.

  I could feel tears stinging my eyes, and I gave him an angry look.

  If it had been a knife, it would have come four inches out of his back.

  Jackass.

  Then I whipped around and walked stiffly back towards the bedroom.

  I felt like a fool, I felt poor and out of place, my head was pounding from my hangover– and worst of all, the guy I’d fallen all over last night was showing me just how important I really was to him.

  “Sam, hold on,” I heard behind me, and then bare feet were running over the carpet.

  His hand took hold of my arm.

  I jerked it away and forged ahead.

  He grabbed tighter and half spun me around, half stepped in front of me.

  “Leave me alone – ” I tried to choke out, but I was already on the verge of crying.

  Then he leaned down and kissed me.

  8

  I gave in out of shock – thrilled to feel his lips on mine again, the scratch of his stubble on my chin –

  And then I remembered how he’d just treated me the last three minutes.

  I pushed away from him.

  “Hey, hey, HEY, come on,” he said in a low voice, holding tight onto my arms. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry.”

  I stopped fighting and looked up at him.

  He broke out into a grin. “Good morning.”

  I sniffled a little and wiped one eye. “Good morning,” I mumbled.

  He kissed me again softly, and this time I let him.

  My heart fluttered, and I felt other parts flutter, too.

  But he broke it off quickly.

  “Look, something’s fallen apart, and I have to handle it,” he said. “Just go down to the pool for awhile, and I’ll be down to get you soon, okay?”

  I wiped my other eye, hesitated, and nodded as I sniffled. “Okay… but I don’t have anything to wear.”

  Connor frowned. “I got them to send up a whole rack of clothes for you! You don’t like anything?”

  Johnny’s voice floated up from the background. “She says they’re too expensive.”

  Connor turned slightly, and both he and I peered back at Johnny.

  The bodyguard suddenly looked abashed, and started inspecting the nearest wall like La dee da, don’t mind me, I’m not here…

  Connor turned back to me. “What do you mean, they’re too expensive?”

  “She says she can’t pay for them,” Johnny added, with a touch of amusement.

  I leaned past Connor and scowled at Johnny. He pressed his lips together tight, like he was trying to keep from laughing, and went back to staring at the wall.

  “You don’t have to pay for them,” Connor said, trying to stifle a laugh himself.

  “Well, you shouldn’t either, they’re too expensive!” I protested.

  Now he actually did laugh, and shook his head in disbelief. “You’re joking, right?”

  “Do you know what’s on that rack?” I asked. I was serious; I had never even touched a Versace dress before. I don’t touch things I know I can’t have, because it only makes it worse when you stop daydreaming and come back to reality.

  “Apparently something with the Hope Diamond on it.”

  “Don’t make fun of me!” I snapped.

  He shook his head and gave me an incredulous look. “You do remember finding out about my last name, right? You do have some inkling of what I can afford, right?”

  “Well, you shouldn’t have to – ”

  “Lily, I’ve lost more money in the last 30 seconds talking to you than what’s on that rack.”

  My stomach lurched. I couldn’t even begin to comprehend that – it made my head even worse. For the first time since I woke up, I felt nauseated.

  “I’m sorry,” I whispered, and turned to go –

  But his strong arms pulled me back, and he forced me hard against his body.

  I struggled the tiniest bit, but he grabbed the back of my hair with one hand – upon which I had a delicious, delirious flashback to the previous night – and he ran his other hand through the front of my robe, reached around, and clutched my rear end as he pulled me in hard against his body and kissed me.

  Conscious that Johnny was behind us, I tried to force his hand away from my ass, but he resisted – and started caressing me instead.

  I was helpless.

  I just melted into that kiss, my heart thudding in my chest. How could I not? All I felt was utter submissiveness to that tug of hair at the nape of my neck, and the warmth of his powerful hand as he grasped my rear end like he wanted it, NOW, and wasn’t going to take ‘no’ for an answer.

  I was wet within seconds.

  I sooo wanted him to pull me back into the bedroom, take off the robe, and do things to me, over and over and over.

  But noooo… of course not.

  He broke off the kiss. Hypnotized, I took a second or two to open my eyes halfway and see him grinning down at me.

  “Go down to th
e pool, get something to eat, and I’ll be there soon,” he said.

  “I could go over to that one,” I said breathlessly, pointing at the pool that began in the floor by the thirty-foot glass wall, and continued outside to the patio.

  Number one, it was right there. What good is having a pool in your penthouse if you don’t use it?

  And number two, this pool was a lot closer to the bedroom…

  “I need some privacy. Now pick out a swimsuit and get going,” he growled playfully.

  “But – ”

  He squeezed my rear end. “NOW.”

  “That’s not making me want to leave,” I said, which was true. I wanted both hands on my ass, lifting me into the air, then plunging me down onto something that I wanted even more –

  “Lilyyyyy…”

  “Okay, okay,” I whispered, and removed his hand out of my robe, making sure I was behind Connor and that Johnny couldn’t see anything as I did it. Then I shuffled self-consciously over to the clothing rack as Johnny politely kept staring at the wall with an amused grin on his face.

  9

  I rifled through about six different bathing suits and settled on a dark red Gucci bikini. Not that I had much of a choice – there were no one-pieces, which is what I vastly would have preferred.

  Johnny saw my unhappy expression. “What, you don’t like them?” he whispered, since Connor had gone back to shouting at his cell phone.

  “There’s only bikinis.”

  Johnny smirked. “That was Connor’s explicit instructions – bikinis only.”

  I looked around and glared at Connor.

  He looked at me like What now?!

  I held up the red bikini.

  Immediately he broke into a grin, gave me a thumbs-up, then turned around and started yelling again.

  I went back into the bedroom and changed.

  It fit well enough, but God I felt exposed. I kept tugging the top into place, worried that I might accidentally pull a Janet Jackson and have a wardrobe malfunction.

  Then I bundled back up in the robe and walked out to the rack and picked up a small pair of fancy leather flip-flops – by far the plainest, cheapest pair on the rack.

  They felt wonderful.

  As we were walking out, Connor clicked his fingers.

  I whirled around, ready to shout, I’m NOT a dog, mister.

  But when I saw his face, I couldn’t do anything but suppress a giggle.

  He had on a hurt look, like, What, no toys for me?!

  Then he put on a Yeah, yeah, yeah! face and made a gesture like he was opening up an invisible robe on himself.

  I licked my lips seductively…

  Put on my best pouty face…

  Placed my hands on the belt holding the robe together…

  And then lifted up my thumb and pinky into a fake cell phone by my ear, then brought it down and waggled one finger like No, no, NO, as I shook my head soberly.

  The look of disappointment on his face was priceless.

  I grinned, turned on my heels, and walked out of the door as Johnny held the door open and shrugged at his boss like, Sorry, dude.

  10

  As we rode down in the elevator, I tried to make small talk.

  “So, uh… you sleep okay?”

  “I would have, but there was all this moaning and screaming from next door,” he said seriously.

  BOOM. Fire-engine-red face.

  And my mouth dropped open.

  He burst out into laughter. “Kidding, kidding. Both the penthouse and my room are soundproofed, Lily. Geez, relax.”

  I averted my eyes, and I’m sure my expression looked like I was about to keel over and die.

  “I slept very well, thank you,” Johnny said with a grin. “And I’m sure that after dinner, you went right to bed and immediately went to sleep, too.”

  “Yes,” I said slowly, “…yes, I did.”

  Johnny just kept on grinning. “Sorry, I was just kidding around. I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

  “Too late for that,” I said with a weak smile.

  He suddenly got serious. “Really, though, I am sorry. You’re a nice person, I shouldn’t have done it. I didn’t mean anything by it.”

  I felt bad for him. “It’s okay, I just… I embarrass easily.”

  He smiled. “So I’ve noticed. It’s one of the things I like about you.”

  I wanted to ask him what he meant by that – and whom he knew from Connor’s past who hadn’t embarrassed easily – when the elevator door opened.

  We were on the twelfth floor, according to the digital display in the elevator. Johnny led the way through a beautiful area with a bunch of leather couches and small tables, around which a few groups sat eating brunch and drinking. Some were young and beautiful – male underwear models and their supermodel girlfriends – and some were older and distinguished looking. But they all looked very, very wealthy.

  Beyond them was a grand doorway with green, billowing curtains, and beyond that the bright sun.

  I squinted as we stepped outside. The pool was gorgeous, an amorphous shape filled with crystal-clear water. The sides and bottom were black tile with the logo of the hotel in gold. All around the edges were little forests of flowers and gorgeous plants, so that the pool looked like an exotic oasis plucked out of a fairytale desert.

  Hundreds of feet in the distance stood several other tall buildings, though none were as tall as the Dubai. And beyond them lay the Hollywood Hills, which last night had been lit up like fairy villages. In the daylight they looked more like dollhouses: massive mansions, some modernist glass boxes, lots of old frame houses, but at this distance they looked just big enough for Malibu Barbie and Ken to park a pink plastic Corvette in the garage.

  Cabanas with wooden frames and tan drapes lined one side of the pool area. Inside them, people lounged on cushioned chairs or ate brunch around glass tables. Nearby, more tables sat out in the sun.

  The rest of the pool area was lined with plush sunbathing chairs, on which reclined a good thirty or so people worshipping the sun god. Among them were a few women whom I hoped Connor didn’t see when he came down here, or I was sure he’d ditch me.

  “We forgot sunglasses for you,” Johnny realized.

  I looked over at him. “What? No, I’m fine.”

  “Don’t worry, I’ll go back in and get some.”

  “You don’t have to – ”

  “It’s already a done deal, so quit saying ‘You don’t have to.’ Let me just get you settled first.”

  Johnny led me over to an empty cabana. I looked at him like What are we doing here?

  He gestured at the area, which was big enough to house a twenty-person party. “There you go.”

  “There I go what?”

  He shook his head and laughed. “Sit down, have something to eat, something to drink. Enjoy yourself.”

  I looked around in a bit of panic. “I can’t sit here!”

  “Why not?”

  “I’m just one person! I can sit over there!” I said, pointing at one of the tables in the sun.

  “This is the penthouse cabana. You sit here,” Johnny said with a tone of finality.

  “But – ”

  “If you don’t, I’m going to ask what you and Connor did after I left last night.”

  I turned bright red. “I’m sitting, I’m sitting.”

  “Good girl,” he grinned. “I’ll be right back with the sunglasses.”

  Suddenly, with a huge wave of guilt, I remembered Anh. “I need to borrow your cell phone.”

  He pulled it out of his pocket, punched in a code to unlock it, and handed it over. “See you in a minute.” Then he walked off.

  I sat down in one of the plush chairs and sighed. It felt so good.

  Ahhh, Los Angeles at 11AM on a late spring morning. It was about 80 degrees with no humidity – just enough to make me want to pull off my robe, but not enough to overcome my shyness yet. The sky was deep blue with a few wisps of clouds. It had rain
ed a few days ago, which always clears out the smog and makes everything beautiful.

  There was an eighty-five old man in Anh’s and my apartment building who had lived in LA all his life. He told me once that after the rain, he caught a glimpse of what the city used to look like year-round when he was a boy.

  Anh.

  I started to dial the number –

  “Hi there, my name’s Celia. What can I get you?” a friendly voice chirped.

  I looked up to see a tall, really pretty blonde waitress in a white blouse and black skirt, with legs all the way down to Antarctica.

  Man, did every woman who worked here have to be runway-worthy?

  “Uhhh… water, please. Ice water. And…”

  My brain clicked through hangover cures.

  Greasy food, yuck. Goody’s headache powder… eh…

  Hair o’ the dog that bit ya.

  “What’s good for a hangover?” I asked, squinting up at her.

  She laughed. “Well, I always go for a Bloody Mary.”

  “Okay, that sounds good.”

  “Spicy?”

  “Noooo, just… regular. Uh, non-spicy. Do you guys have food?”

  “We certainly do – hold on.” She walked over to a little desk at the cabana and pulled a menu out as though by magic, then handed it to me.

  “Are you guys still serving breakfast?”

  She smiled. “We serve brunch all day. Even if we didn’t, I think I could arrange it for you.”

  And then she winked.

  “Um… okay…”

  I didn’t quite know how to take that.

  Is she HITTING on me?!

  Thoughts of my waitress’s sexual orientation disappeared as I looked at the menu and almost choked.

  The prices were astronomical.

  I thought about scratching the Bloody Mary, but I really wanted to stop the pounding in my head.

  Instead, I quickly scanned for the cheapest food I could find.

  “Could I have… a cup of strawberry yogurt?”

  “That’s it?” she asked, a little surprised.

  Actually, I was ravenous. A cup of yogurt wasn’t going to cut it, so I scanned for the next-cheapest thing, too.

  “Um… and an order of toast.”

  “Whole wheat, white, rye, French bread, or sourdough?”