BILLIONAIRE (Part 7) (2 page)

But
I was silenced then by Jake’s unexpected expression.

I’d
forgotten how inappropriate my dress was until Jake’s eyes widened and his jaw
dropped in a unchecked reaction.  The punished, rained-on, very-thin knit
fabric of my dress had stretched slightly in some places and tightened in
others, and was practically see-through.  My breasts were half-revealed and the
hem had ridden up to the tops of my thighs.  My long hair hung in half-curled
drying skeins and did little more to cover my budded nipples than the dress.

After
several stunned seconds, Jake stood and hastily wrapped his jacket back around
me.  “
Jesus Christ
, Lila.  You can’t walk around like that.  You are far
too beautiful and far too …
on display
… to do anything but let me take
you back to my apartment.  Alexander would torture me slowly before throttling
me with both hands – and he has a fucking strong grip – if I did anything but
take you home and call him immediately.”

He
had slung his arm around me and was leading me through the crowd, which seemed
closer now, more attentive.  My vision felt swirly and unhinged but I could see
vaguely that the bar was full of men.  Some were yelling at a football game
taking place on a large-screen TV.  Others were looking at me.  Saying things. 
Rude things.  Suggestive.  Aggressive.

“
Jake,
you lucky bastard.  Let me
.”

“She’s
too young for you, Jake.  Is she even legal?”

“Where
you goin’, Jakey?  It’s still early.  Let her stay for a while.”

There
were others.  They were drunk and their laughter was tipped with the late-night
looseness that was less about humor than it was about messy, intemperate
self-gratification.

“Think
of my well-being, Lila,” Jake was murmuring in a steady, soothing monotone as
he led me towards the door, as though to anchor me.  “A lot of these guys know
me.  Some of them know Alexander.  He’ll hear about this and if he does, and
realizes that you were with me and I didn’t tell him about it … well, there’ll
be hellfire to pay.  He’ll probably fucking fire me.  He’ll definitely beat me
to a bloody pulp and he can be a mean son of a bitch when he puts his mind to
it.  I don’t really want to be on the receiving end of all that so if you don’t
mind obliging me on this one little detail, I’ll be more than happy to give you
as much goddamn money as you want.”

Jake
swerved to shield me as his shoulder pushed against a man that was blocking our
escape.  A big man, with a tight t-shirt that showcased a b-grade tattoo and the
hours he’d spent at some sweaty gym.

“Fuck
off and back off, asshole,” Jake said.  “We’re coming through so get the fuck
out of my way.”

Oh,
God.
 
The man was angry, shooting daggers out of his eyes as we passed by him. 
This
was dangerous.  Would he come after us?  Would he challenge Jake?  Would he
hurt him?  Would he hurt me?

I
was suddenly and immensely thankful for Jake’s well-built, roughed-up renegade
shtick.  The beefy thug thought twice about acting out his bravado and laughed
it off with a couple other beer-swilling louts before turning his attention
back to the football.

And
Jake and I were out on the street, his arm still slung around me.

We
walked in silence for a while, letting the adrenaline settle.  The rain had
stopped but the streets were still oily-wet.  The smell of New York City hung
in the murky air: of gasoline and expensive perfume, of sparky ambition and
nightlit desperation.

“I
can see how Alexander gets off on this white knight gig,” he commented
blithely, looking down at me.  “You all right?”

I
wasn’t sure if he was referring to the way I was clinging onto him to stop
myself from falling over or the scene we’d just made our dramatic escape from.

I
was about reassure him.  I thought I was all right, but I couldn’t exactly
tell.  I’d find that out when he let go of me.  At this point I wasn’t even sure
I could walk by myself.  The only thing I was sure of was that I’d never, ever
felt so tired in my entire life.  I wanted to thank him and ask him again for
that loan.  I knew there was a hotel on the next block.

“My
apartment is right here, in the building on the corner,” I heard him say.

But
before I could tell Jake that I wouldn’t be coming up, that I needed to go it
alone, to sleep and figure out what and when and where and all the other
details, the night took on a strange, glittery brilliance.

Darkness
closed in and it was beautiful and complete.

Alexander

The
meeting went well enough.  I made a few calls that would keep Jake from being
too closely investigated by the authorities.  Insider trading wasn’t taken
lightly, but everyone had their price.  I hated placating people with hush
money.  It wasn’t my style and I’d never had to do it to get myself out of
trouble.  For the most part I avoided trouble.  Trouble was a pain in the ass.

I
wished Jake would fucking wise up.  His recklessless was getting expensive.  I
told him as much and he left in a mood.  Said he was meeting some friends in a
bar nearby.

Not
that I cared what my brother planned on doing for the rest of the weekend.  I’d
see him on Monday to finalize a few more details and write a few more checks. 
Until then, I had my own plans.  Plans that involved a naked, nubile nymphet
who, by this time, ought to be very well rested.  Just thinking about all that
lush, pink beauty softly writhing around in my bed got me instantly, painfully
hard.

She’d
been mad at me this morning, cooing little complaints about the fact that she
wasn’t CEO of my empire yet, or something.  The thing was, I wanted to take her
on.  Mainly because she was smart.  The few times we’d discussed the publishing
business, she’d brought up some interesting ideas I knew I could use.  Behind
all those plush, perfect curves and those irresistible lips was a bright,
educated mind.  And a sweetness that blew my mind.  A purity not just of body
but of soul.  I don’t think I’d ever met anyone who was so naturally devoid of
malice.  Sure, she had her moments of feminine contrariness like every woman is
entitled to, but underneath the light stubbornness that was nothing compared to
my own, Lila was all about a shining
beautifulness
that just about brought
me to my knees every time I saw her.

But
the problem
was
those plush, perfect curves and those irresistible lips.
 That complete, incredible package that was Lila.  As fucking disciplined as I
might have been, I had no idea how I was expected to think straight with all
that walking around my office as I tried to negotiate deals and manage staff.  Even
worse, how was I supposed to concentrate when she
left
?  When she went
out to lunch meetings with lecherous editors or horny writers?  I could picture
myself pacing around and moodily pining like some goddamn lovestruck teenager
as soon as she vacated the premises, disappearing to God knows where with God
knows fucking who.

Even
this morning, when she’d talked about going out shopping and meeting up with the
friend she hadn’t seen for weeks got me all hot and bothered.  Which pissed me
off to no fucking end.  I
didn’t
want
to behave this way.  I knew
it was irrational and overblown.  I knew I was pushing the boundaries of what
she would tolerate.  But I couldn’t seem to get myself to calm the fuck down.

She
just seemed so
vulnerable
.  So soft.  So defenseless.

The
thought of what she’d endured as a child was enough to practically see me
hunting the redneck lunatic fucker down and wasting him.  She hadn’t given me
all the details but she didn’t need to.  Knowing that I’d never find him, that
he’d be long gone and that she’d never even told me his name didn’t make my
desire to fuck him up any less vehement.  I could practically taste my revenge
and it was sweet.  Too sweet.  And too crazy.  Dwelling and plotting would get
me nowhere and it would only cause Lila pain.  She didn’t want to rehash all
that shit and neither did I.  It was more important to focus on the future. 
She was here and I would do everything I could to protect her with everything I
had.

I
stood for a minute on the glass-walled landing outside the door of my
apartment, looking out over the view of the city.  The day was overcast, with
gathering dark clouds.  It looked like a storm was brewing.

I
took a deep breath, letting the fury in me dissipate.  I didn’t want to burst
in there with a raging hard-on and a wild, provoked temper.  I’d be gentle with
her, and listen to her girlish grievances.  She might still be pissed off because
I’d left her, to meet with Jake and sort through the bullshit and the emails,
even after I’d told her she could join me and help me work, which was the very
last thing I wanted her to do today.  It wasn’t that I didn’t think she was
capable.  It was more to do with the fact that I’d get the work done faster
without her there.  Without the beckoning distraction of her innocent yet
sultry face.  Her pouty lips.  Her silky, gossamer hair.  Not to mention other
parts of her that were too damn inviting to disengage from in any way
whatsoever.  I simply couldn’t get enough.  As soon as I was finished I wanted
to start all over again, and get deeper, and closer.  Orgasms with Lila weren’t
like endings, as with other women.  They were like the first taste of a new
addiction, each and every fucking time.  I wanted more, and more.  And I sure
as hell wasn’t going to get any work done if we were at it on the desk every
five minutes.  All I’d needed was a few hours of distance so I could
concentrate.  I’d worn her out and left her to sleep.  Where she’d be safe and
secure.  Warm.  Satiated in every way I could think of.

I’d
make it up to her.  Anyway she wanted.  Anything she wanted.

A
kiss.  Slow and supplicating.  She could take out her kittenish wrath on me. 
On my mouth.  She could bite me and hold me down.  She’d be a little wild. 
Surly.  She might straddle me.  Take me into that slick, tight sheath,
squeezing and softly gripping me with petulant little clenches as she slid
herself along my rampant, starstruck length.

Fuck.
 
Just thinking about her was too much.  My cock was so hard it was pressed uncomfortably
against the cold zipper of my jeans.  I could arrive without the wild temper but
the hard-on was here to stay.

I
opened the door.

Something
felt wrong.  The emptiness sort of echoed through my soul in a weird, drafty
instinct.  But nothing was out of place.  A radio played in the kitchen. 
Claude was probably here, cleaning.  Or whatever it was that Claude did.  He’d
been working for me for around five years as a housekeeper and sometimes-chef.

But
I wasn’t interested in what Claude was doing.  I ran up the curving staircase,
taking the steps in threes.  Odd whitenoise crackled somewhere behind my brain
when I saw that the bedroom door was wide open.  A bottle of champagne sat on a
small table outside the bedroom.  Two glasses.  One still had a finger of
champagne left in it.  On the other, a phone had been neatly balanced.

Lila’s
phone.

I
knew she was gone even before I reached the bedroom door.  But I ran in and looked
around for her anyway, in a kind of frenzy that was uncharacteristic even for
me.  I ripped the sheets off the bed, as though that might fix something, or
ease it.  It did neither.  I looked in the bathroom.  She’d had a shower and
had dropped the towel on the floor.  That was unusual.  Lila was tidy; she
liked her things arranged neatly.  Even when I told her she didn’t have to
worry about stuff like that, that housekeepers could clean up, she said she
liked doing it.  She liked trying to make order of the chaos that was her
life.  That’s how she’d put it.

Her
clothes were still here, and all her other belongings.  Her bag.  Her keys.

Lila’s
coat was gone, though.  Her favorite, the one I’d bought her that first time
I’d taken her shopping at Barneys.  She’d been so thrilled with that coat.  She’d
said it was the most beautiful thing she’d ever worn.  She’d even cried a
little, a single tear making a shiny line down her youthful, lightly-freckled
cheek.  I’d kissed her and told her how beautiful she looked, with her golden
hair long and loose, illuminated by that inner glow she seemed to radiate.

My
Lila was gone.

I
had to find her.

$

I
felt manic.  Crazy.  Out of control.  Like I was capable of doing absolutely
anything it took to find her and get her back.

Anything.

My
brain fizzed with panic, with a sort of hyperalert commitment, and most of all,
with acute, cutting desperation.  She was mine. 
Mine
.  And she was out
there, alone and unguarded.  She would attract all kinds of unwanted attention,
looking like she did.  Just
being
like she
was
. 
Fucking hell.
 
I touched my fingers along a few pieces of her clothes like a pathetic wretch. 
What was she wearing?  Was she warm enough?  Was her hair still wet from her
shower?  She’d drunk a third of the champagne; she’d be a little tipsy.  Her
defenses would be down.