A Double Dose of Billionaire: Part Two

Copyright
©2014 by Rachel Ellis

Edited by
Hot Tree Editing

I finally managed to wiggle my way out of the twins' sticky grasps.

It had been a week since I moved into their house. They abruptly forced me to move in with them, without giving me a chance to go home and pack my things.

They brought me to a store to buy some clothes after my first day at work, but most of the clothes were picked by them. The majority of them had a plunging neckline that didn't fit my tastes. I ended up wearing the same three blouses for the whole of last week, even wearing one blouse two days in a row because the laundry couldn't finish on time.

The twins always had some excuse to keep me staying in the house: they were lonely; the movie hadn't ended; they needed someone to cook breakfast. They were lame excuses, at best. We spent most of the time rutting—that was the main reason why I hadn’t gotten a chance.

It was partially my fault. I tried to find excuses for myself, too. I couldn't get enough of the twins, and the paparazzi were particularly de-motivational.

Somehow, I convinced them to let me go one hour ago—it probably had something to do with my constant complaining about not having my stuff. They wanted to get Tyrone to fetch my things instead, but I was having none of that.

I understood that, as rich twin billionaire heirs, they were used to getting everything they wanted, but there had to be limits to how controlling they could be.

I told them if they kept me in the house, there'd be no sex for a week. I knew they hardly believed me—I hardly believed myself. And then I told them there wouldn't be any breakfast. My bargaining chips were laughable, at best. I doubted they really cared much for breakfast, but they sarcastically acted like they did and let me go.

We had been in the midst of watching a movie when I left. I wondered how that movie ended.

The paparazzi had dispersed from my house, and it was easy for Tyrone to ward off the lone, scrawny cameraman camping in front of my apartment block. I supposed after not seeing me for a whole week, and sighting me close to the twins' house, most of them simply gave up looking for me at my apartment.

I took out my keys from my pouch and opened my door while making a list of things I needed in my head. The twins provided for most of my necessities. All I wanted to take along were my clothes and my laptop. I had some trouble figuring out exactly which clothes I should bring, though, and I definitely needed more than one pair of shoes.

They had bought me a new laptop for work purposes, but I was still too used to the one I had before. Frankly, I thought the laptop I bought myself had better specs than theirs; although, the one they got for me looked way cooler.

I shut my front door and turned around. My jaw dropped when I saw who was sitting on my couch.

"Damien? What the heck?" I said, leaving my bag on my table.

My ex-boyfriend was lounging on my furniture, snacking on some of my potato chips, as if he owned the place. He shoved another handful of chips into his mouth and lazily turned his head. His eyes widened, as if he just saw a ghost. "Scarlet! Oh, my God, you're back. I've been trying to look for you."

"What the hell are you doing in my apartment?"
Crap.
I had forgotten to get my keys back from him. The twins left me too distracted.

"Waiting. I've been coming here after work for the last week looking for you. Why haven't you been home?"

I took a whiff of the air and had to stop myself from gagging. Damien had turned this whole place into a junkyard, with unfinished food and tissue paper left all over the floor. Did I have to clean up the mess this asshole left behind?

Furiously, I opened my door and gestured to the corridor. "Get out."

He stood up, spilling the chips all over my carpet without even blinking an eye. "I've been waiting all week. You could at least tell me where you've been. Was it the twins' house?" He showed me another one of those magazine headlines: 'Crawford Brothers' Mystery Girl Having a Baby!'

Where in the world did these people get their information?

"I'm not having a baby, Damien. And even if I am, it's none of your business."

"But you're hanging out with the twins?"

"That's none of your concern, either."

"My calls?"

"I blocked you."

He sneered, "You blocked me? Why would you do that?"

"Because you were an asshole, that's why. I don't want to talk to you again after what you've done."

"I said I was sorry."

Was this guy for real? "Sorry doesn't cut it. You slept with someone else in my own bed. And
on my birthday.
"

He parted his lips in shock. "It was your birthday? Damn. I’m so sorry. I was drunk."

I put my hands on my hips. "Oh, really? You seemed perfectly sober when you yelled at me for being a controlling bitch after that."

"Scarlet, I'm sorry, okay?" He walked toward me, stepping on some of the spilled chips as he came closer. "I mean, we can give each other another chance. I love you."

He reached out for my hands, but I took a step back. I pointed to the corridor again. "Get the fuck out of my house."

"Please, we can just... talk. I'm not leaving until you say yes."

I grabbed hold of his shoulder and shoved him outside. "Don't come looking for me ever again," I said, before slamming the door.

"Scarlet! Don't shut me out like that. You look so beautiful today, babe. Think about all we've been through. C'mon, let's give each other another chance."

I realized I forgot something and opened the door.

He spread his arms opens and beamed a vomit-inducing smile. "I knew you'd come around."

I was
so
close to slapping him. “Keys.”

“What?”

“Give me your keys. I don’t want you coming back here to mess up my place.”

“Really, Scarlet? Come on, for old time’s sake.”

“I’m taking the keys back from you
because
of old time’s sake. Hurry up and hand them over.”

“I’m not going to.”

My left eye twitched with annoyance. “Give them to me, or I’ll sue you for trespassing.”

He squinted his eyes. “You don’t have a lawyer.”

“I’m sure the twins have plenty.” I felt bad using their name as a threat, but if I didn’t, I’d have to wrestle Damien to the ground to get his keys. I
really
hated the thought of having him in my apartment again. The smell of the place was nearly comparable to a public restroom. I had to clean this all up before joining Tyrone downstairs, or it’d be growing fungi by the time I returned.

“At least unblock me from your phone. How am I supposed to get in contact with you?”

“That’s the point. I don’t want to see you anymore, Damien. We’re over. Get that in your head.”

He flashed me sad, puppy-dog eyes as he took out his wallet. I would’ve fallen for it one month ago, but I was too sick of his shit to care about how bad he felt now. “Not even a second chance? I’ll be here for you, Scarlet, not like the Crawford brothers. They’ll leave you after they get bored.”

“Keys!” I raised an open palm.

The keys chinked against each other as they fell into my hands.

“I’m just warning you,” Damien said.

“Thanks for your concern, but I don’t need it.”

“See you around.”

“No, thank you.”

I shut the door after Damien made a turn around the corridor, locking myself in with all the bacteria he left behind. I studied the situation in front of me: the bag of chips spilled earlier, half-empty cup noodles on my coffee table, a couple of dirty socks lying around... I made a mental groan and went to the storeroom to pick up a trash bag.

As I was halfway done cleaning up, I stumbled onto something that made me pause—a pair of panties.

They weren’t mine, for sure. I hadn’t seen them before, and the pink frills and the see-through behind indicated they didn’t belong to me. They might’ve been left behind by that blonde chick he screwed before we broke up, but then I also stumbled on a couple of used condoms in my trash can.

I distinctly remembered clearing out the trash
after
we broke up.

That Damien was a son of a bitch.

***

“You have an appointment with Riesling Financial today at one p.m.,” I said to Riley. “I’ve cleared your schedule. After that, you’ll have an hour free before another meeting with the sales executive of Crawford.”

I reported his schedule to Riley about once a day. Initially, I thought he didn’t pay attention, since all he did was nod his head while reading some other document of his. However, he always walked out of his office on time, without ever needing me to remind him about his appointments.

“Okay, that’s good,” he replied. He picked up a file from his desk and glanced through it briefly. “Summarize these documents for me. I need them for the meeting, but I don’t have time to read through all of them.”

“Yes, sir.”

We kept a professional relationship in the office, most of the time. Sometimes, he’d spring out of the normal routine—pun intended—and I’d find myself sucking his private parts. But other than the occasional instance, Riley was serious about his work.

He looked so amazingly sexy when he got serious like that.

“Is that all, sir?” I kept up the formalities, calling him ‘sir’ at the office, but when the doors were closed, and we were left alone—with Ryan, of course—I’d begin screaming out his name. Sometimes the twins decided to get naughty, coming up with their dominant-submissive play, and then 'sir' would return to my vocabulary once more.

“Actually, no. Tyrone told me about yesterday. He said you spent quite long in your apartment.”

“And is that a problem?” I crossed my arms. I didn’t like them butting into my affairs so much. Sure, I lived in their house and cooked breakfast for them, but we haven’t made anything official yet. We maintained a sex-buddy status quo… for now.

He leaned forward and propped his elbows onto the desk, crossing his fingers together. “I’m your boss.”

“And… what does that have to do with anything?”

“As the boss of this company, it’s my job to know the whereabouts of my employees.”

I sighed, not buying his half-assed argument, but answering anyway. “I was cleaning up the apartment.”

He raised a brow, indicating he didn’t believe me. “For so long? I didn’t know you were such a messy person, to leave so much junk behind.”

I scowled at him. I wasn’t exactly a neat freak, but I had standards and left things reasonably clean. “It wasn’t me. My ex-boyfriend came in and made a mess of the whole place. That slob. I had a week’s worth of his crap to clean up.”

The teasing expression of his face immediately fell. His lips pressed into a hard line, and the look he had turned into one of deep annoyance. “You never told us you had an ex-boyfriend.”

I gave out a laugh of disbelief. “I’ve had plenty, thank you.”

Irritated, Riley let out a rough noise. “What was he doing in your apartment?”

“Begging for us to get back together, like a sorry piece-of-shit.” The thought of me ever kissing that unsympathetic asshole again sent a shiver of disgust through my gut.