Lucky Fall (5 page)

“That’s my girl. I knew you’d like it.”

Liked it?
I lusted it. Then I felt his other hand move to my front and rub against my clit. He manipulated both parts of my body with complete ease, building a new heat.

“You’re so responsive to me. I love it.”

He’s getting turned on by turning me on?
It was such a strange concept for me, but it only increased my desire.

“Come now, Julianne!” he growled, and I let go again, shuddering with his touch.

He lay down beside me and we were quiet for a long time as I caught my breath. Finally, he whispered, piercing through the silence, “I want you to ride me. Put the condom on me and fuck me hard.”

I did exactly that, my fingers shaking as I rolled it down his length. He clasped my waist, setting me on top of him. I felt his full length and suddenly I was glad for all the foreplay. He’d got me ready for this, coaxing me gradually. I placed my hands on his chest, using it for leverage as I began moving in a slow, steady pace. He fondled my breasts before trailing his fingers down to my clit. His thumb pressed into it, manipulating it in leisurely circles. Then he ground into me, jutting his hips upward. I placed my hands on the headboard for purchase as he continued thrusting. I met him each time, but Victor was doing most of the work. The dim lighting cast shadows against his beautiful face as he pushed into me until we both climaxed. He sat up, embracing me, kissing my shoulders.

“You are a remarkable lover,” he said.

I was stunned. Surely, he was joking.

“Right back at you,” I replied breathlessly.

I shifted off him and he performed the same ritual of walking to the bathroom then retrieving another glass of wine for me.

“Tired, beautiful?” he asked, stroking my hair.

I nodded, knowing my body had never felt so satisfied. Not just satisfied, but gratified…sated. He lay down and pulled me against his chest. “We didn’t make it to the third condom.”

He laughed. “We’ll save it. You’re not the only one worn out.”

He fell asleep fast, keeping his arm around me protectively. I just watched him, trying to memorize every perfect plane of his sculpted body, knowing I’d want to recall these moments with vivid clarity on cold, lonely nights. I just had the best sex I’d ever had. No…that was incorrect. It was the best sex I’d ever have, I knew it. Only I had no idea who he was. Obviously, he was very wealthy to afford such lavish accommodations. He was intelligent, handsome and passionate. The way he treated my body with the tenderness of a skilled lover and the intensity of a demanding one told me he was very experienced. It made me sad that I wouldn’t know more of him, but it was enough. This was enough for me. I had to leave now. If I waited until morning, when I was sure he was planning to use the third condom, I might never leave.

I gently lifted his arm off me and tiptoed into the living room, turning on the light. I found my dress and panties on the floor then quietly put them on, willing myself to hurry.

“Where are you going, Julianne?” he asked from behind me, freezing me in place as I was about to slip on my panties.

“Turn around,” I commanded, covering myself up.

He gaped at me as if he was surprised by the request. “Are you kidding me?”

“No, I’m serious. Look away.”

The lights were all on now, and I didn’t want him staring at me without the protection dim lighting could provide. If there was anything but desire in his eyes, it would blemish my memory of the entire night.

“Fine,” he said, turning the other direction and crossing his arms.

I took a second to enjoy the sight in his naked butt again, before remembering what I was supposed to be doing.

“This is really stupid.”

“I know you’ve seen me naked, but this is the way I want it.”

“You’re sexy as hell and you shouldn’t be ashamed, but that’s not the only reason why this is stupid.”

“Oh, yeah, what’s the other?” I asked, looking about for my bra. It was nowhere to be found.

“You’re standing in front of the balcony overlooking Broadway right about the time the late shows get out. Half of New York is seeing you naked right now. I don’t understand why I can’t.”

Shit, he was right.

I dressed quickly, sans bra, cursing my own stupidity. “You can turn back now.”

He did, and I wished he hadn’t. His gorgeous nakedness was making me wet…again. I swallowed and he smirked.

“I’ll put on a robe, but you better be here when I get back.”

When he returned, I was standing in the same spot, afraid my legs were too rubbery to move me with any efficiency. He was pissed at me, which surprised me because I thought he’d prefer it this way. “Victor, I know what this is. I’m not foolish enough to kid myself.”

“And what is it you think this is? Please enlighten me.”

“It’s a one-night stand, of course. I’m doing you a favor by not having an awkward moment in the morning.” I reached for my zipper, but it was too low to force upward, and my body wasn’t stretching in the way I needed it to.

He walked toward me then pulled it up, managing to caress my spine at the same time.
Shiver.
“I never said that.”

“So it’s not?”

“Why don’t you stay until breakfast so we can discuss it?” He massaged my shoulders with his strong hands, making it difficult to remember why I had to leave.

“Don’t feel you have to justify anything. I’m fine with it. Besides, I have no intention of being your girl at this port.”

“My girl at this port?” He enunciated each word as if trying to figure out the phrase.

“The sex was as amazing as you promised, but I’m not comfortable being on call when you’re in town.”

He stepped in front of me, running his hands through his hair. “You really don’t know who I am, do you?”

I bit my lip, wondering if he was a model or actor I should know. He had the looks for such a profession. “I don’t watch much television.”

“Unless it’s the financial news or gossip shows, you wouldn’t know me from television.”

He did look familiar to me, but only because I was sure I’d created him in a dream. Victor Ivanov…should I know that name?

“The media usually uses my father’s last name of Haywood. It’s my legal name, but I’ve always preferred my mother’s.”

My mouth dropped open. Victor Ivanov Haywood was the illegitimate heir to the Haywood hotel fortune. “You own this hotel.”

He nodded. “Yes, and one hundred and twenty-two others like it across the world. I live in Connecticut, but I stay here when I’m in town for business. I wasn’t trying to keep my identity from you. I just assumed you knew who I was, since my picture is currently on every tabloid in the city.”

It was true. I had seen them in the supermarkets. His father had just passed away, shocking everyone by giving his long-lost son the bulk of his estate, and in the process disowning his legitimate son.

“I recognize you now.”

“Are you angry?”

“No, it just cements the reasons why I can’t stay.”

“I’m not a playboy. I have no intention of using you or discarding you, Julianne.” His voice was softer, making him sound much younger.

I couldn’t recall all the crazy gossip about him, except that he was Oxford-educated, which I remembered because it had impressed me. “That’s not it.”

“Then what is it? Most women would consider my wealth a positive trait, but it seems to be a deterrent for you.”

“Why do you want me to stay?”

“I like you. I don’t honestly know what this is. I just don’t want it to be over. Tell me why you want to leave.”

I didn’t know how to answer his question. I was still reeling in the idea that I’d just had a mind-blowing fuck fest with a billionaire. He was too good to be true, which meant he wasn’t real, and I’d better shimmy my ass out of here before he tired of me.
Always leave on a high note
, Libby said, and for once, I wanted to take her advice.

“There’s someone waiting for me,” I replied, hoping he’d drop it.

His jaw clenched. I’d made him angry.

“I see. You were using me,” he replied through gritted teeth. “I thought I’d asked you if you had someone in your life.”

“It’s not what you think. We have an understanding.”

“It’s the one man you’ve been with? The one who can’t please you?”

I grabbed my purse and stormed toward the door. “Goodbye, Victor.”

“Stop!” he commanded as I turned the knob.

I did.

“I don’t appreciate being deceived, Julianne. The fact is, I’ve been lied to all my life and I don’t tolerate it very well. I have no issues with you leaving, except I insist my driver take you. His name is Robbins and he’ll pull the limo around for you. You can at least give me the peace of mind, knowing you arrived home safely. That’s all I ask.”

I nodded, not daring to turn around. “I’m sorry, Victor.”

“So am I. I thought you were different. It’s not just that you cheated, something I would never accept, but the fact that you’re in a relationship that makes you so unhappy.”

“We have an understanding.”

“It’s one thing to lie to me, but maybe you should stop betraying yourself.”

Chapter Three

I was miserable. There was hurt in his voice that night, and I was the cause of it. I’d assumed he was only interested in casual sex, but the wounded look on his face made it apparent he was sincere. Libby had come to the store to help me do inventory the following week. I knew it was to get me to spill about my night with Victor Ivanov. Jeff had called me for a date. I’d finally told him I thought he was a nice man, but I wasn’t interested. After Victor, I didn’t think I’d be interested in anyone again. I was ashamed and angry with myself.

“It’ll make you feel better if you talk about it, Julie,” Libby said, placing her hand on my shoulder.

That was it. I couldn’t keep it locked in anymore. “I slept with him,” I replied, throwing the last paperback into the sale basket.

“Was it that bad?” Libby asked, arching her eyebrow.

“No, it was some kind of fucking wonderful.”

“Then why are you so upset, sweetheart?”

“He wanted more, and I can’t give that to him. And now, I’m wondering if I walked out on something really special because I’m scared.”

“Ah, afraid of getting hurt, are you? Just because he’s hotter and richer than the devil doesn’t mean he’ll put you through hell.”

I gaped at Libby. “You knew who he was, didn’t you?”

“Yes, I thought everyone did, but I saw you didn’t.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought it would make you more nervous. I’m surprised you didn’t know, though. His story is almost Dickensian.”

“I know some of it, but not all. I didn’t want to rely on gossip rags for information. What do you know?”

“He never knew his real father in the traditional sense. His father acted as a secret benefactor, paying for his education and his living expenses, but never claiming him. His mother was a whore who died when he was young.”

I shuddered, not wanting Libby to go on, but also needing to hear all of it.

“A family in Devonshire, who he believed adopted him, raised Victor. In reality, they were hired by Haywood to take care of him. When Haywood found out he had cancer, the old man left his fortune to Victor. His legitimate son was heavily into drugs by then, and wasn’t capable of functioning, let alone running a multi-billion-dollar corporation.”

“I’m surprised he wanted anything to do with his father.”

“He didn’t. Not at first. Not until his father begged for forgiveness on his deathbed,” he said.

My throat went dry as I heard Victor’s deep, British voice behind me. Libby’s eyes looked like they were going to pop out of her head.

“I told you to put bells over the door,” she said, regaining her composure much quicker than me.

I winced, embarrassed he’d overheard us talking about his painful life. I turned around slowly, taking a deep breath. His face was set in a hard, grim line. He didn’t smile at me. He walked over to me, and God help me, I just wanted to fall into his arms again.

“You left this at my place,” he said, shoving a bag at me. I looked inside to see my lace bra. It didn’t make sense he’d come personally to deliver it, and his expression didn’t reveal anything but resentment toward me.

“You didn’t have to bring it to me.”

“I wanted to make sure you got it.” He scanned my shop, and I wished I’d been prepared for his visit. The place felt old and dusty, even to me, and he looked entirely out of place in it with his immaculate dark blue jeans, gray V-neck sweater, and silver watch on his wrist, which reflected the rays of sunlight filtering through the windows. It wasn’t a suit, but Libby was right. His wealth was a physical attribute. It was innate in the self-assured way he carried himself, even though he wasn’t born into it. I felt like a ragamuffin next to him in faded jeans with a noticeable hole at the knee, plaid shirt and worn sandals. I had no heels to make me feel sexy, but I also wasn’t in danger of falling into him again.

“How did you know where to find me?”

“You’re not so hard to locate, Julianne.” He gestured to the overhead speaker. “Oasis?”

That was the CD I had on. They reminded me of him. Perhaps it was because they were British, or maybe because of the soulful, sexy lyrics. “I like them.”

“I like this place,” he said, forming a tight smile.

“Julianne sells vintage books, too. They’re upstairs,” Libby interjected.

He nodded at her, but when he turned back to me, his polite smile slipped off his face.

“I sort of wasn’t accounting for the emergence of eBooks.”

“Business must be difficult.” He glanced around the room like he wanted to look at anything but me.

I shrugged. “The collectables pay the rent.” I gestured to the shelves crammed with books. “The rest of it is just a hobby, or storage, depending on who you ask.”

“Well, wish I could stay and chat, but I was just on my way out. I have somewhere to be,” Libby said, slicing through some of the tension between us.

Damn it, Libby!
She had nowhere to be.

“Don’t trouble yourself. I’m not staying.” He looked at me once more. His eyes widened as they paused on my neck, burning with an intense rawness that I feared might actually singe my skin. My hand immediately covered the scratch he was staring at, making it more obvious. “Who did that to you?” he demanded, moving a few steps closer.