The Billionaire's Affair: Billionaire Brothers (Tycoon Billionaires Book 2) (13 page)

Sarah felt vulnerable and exposed as Dylan drove them through the wide London boulevard in the sports car he’d borrowed from Adam. He’d decided to drive this car in the hope that it would throw off anyone who might be tracking them, but Sarah felt conspicuous in it – it was a red flashy attention-seeker. She knew Dylan had meant it when he said he’d never let anything happen to her, but knowing she was on a Russian hit-list was making her jittery. If a lone gunman decided to take a shot at them, Dylan wouldn’t be able to stop a speeding bullet. He was
a
super man; but not Superman. They’d refrained from rolling down the convertible roof for obvious reasons…

London flowed by outside the car window. People of all shapes, sizes, and backgrounds were busily absorbed in their lives – swarming over the sidewalks, in and out the grocery stores, and down the subways. They were all occupied with their own little dramas, just as Sarah was. She wondered whether any of them were feeling the lightness of love today, as she was. She hoped so – she wished everyone could feel this gorgeous contentment all the time. She imagined everyone would instinctively be kinder to each other if their hearts were full of love. Or – she wondered – were any of those busy people out there on the run from the Russian mafia? Unlikely. But it was guaranteed they’d have some sort of problems of their own. Everyone did. She noticed a sprawling oak tree in the middle of a sidewalk, whose roots were forcing their way up through the concrete.  It was taking its time to perform this reclamation of nature.  But Sarah could see it was determined…

She pulled her thoughts back to the car and glanced over at Dylan as he manoeuvred his way through the lanes of traffic, resting her gaze on his lean powerful fingers.

He caught her staring. “I can’t wait to run my hands all over your sweet body, Sarah. I’m tempted to pull over so I can fuck you right here and now.”

She laughed, feeling her muscles relax slightly. “A massage would definitely be welcome from your strong hands right now.”

“It’s a deal.”

Dylan slowed down at the stop lights and they exchanged a smutty glance, which gently morphed into something more loving; more stable. Sarah grinned as her body was drenched with loving happiness. In some ways, this was quite exciting – sitting in a sports car with the man of her dreams, cruising through London, on the run.

He reached over and squeezed her thigh. “You got any plans today? Other than staying out of the firing line of the Russian government?”

“Hmm… Let me just check my diary.” Sarah flicked through some make-believe pages. “Nope, I think I’m free to let you fuck me all afternoon.”

The lights changed and Dylan put his foot on the gas, making it rev wildly. Sarah laughed. He definitely seemed to be lightening up, which was so good to see. Especially considering the circumstances they’d found themselves in.

Dylan steered the car into a narrower road towards his place. The rectangular four-storey Georgian buildings and the one-way traffic down here made the street feel cramped. The sidewalk was narrow on both sides – as if it had been built as an afterthought. Sarah glanced up and realised there were plenty of looming buildings for a sniper to sit and wait… She shoved these thoughts away. Get a grip!

Dylan rubbed her knee, ever cool and collected. “I can’t wait to get you stripped and ready for me.”

Sarah opened her mouth to say something dirty in reply, but she was suddenly jolted forward in her seat as a car behind crashed into them. Her body tensed with panic – was this the Russians trying to run them off the road?

“Oh that’s just fucking great,” Dylan said, opening the door to climb out.

She grabbed his shirt. “Wait, what if it’s a trap?”

Dylan glanced in the rear-view mirror. “Sweetheart, the guy who hit us looks like a soccer hooligan. He’s driving a Ford Escort. I hardly think he’s working for the Russian mafia.”

She let go. “Okay, but be careful.”

He caressed her cheek. “Stay here. I’ll get his details and we’ll go hideout somewhere safe, okay. I won’t let anything bad happen to you.”

He leaned over and kissed her hard, then climbed out. Sarah watched as he strolled over to the other side of the road to speak to the guy who’d hit them. He was already taking photos with his phone, and Dylan was right – he did look like a typical soccer fan – he had a shaved head and a grubby white T-shirt, and his belly bulged over his jeans from too many beers and post-pub kebabs.

Sarah wound down the window and watched as the two men sized each other up. She felt self-conscious sitting here as the traffic tried to squeeze its way around the two collided vehicles. But she was reluctant to get out, just in case. Anyway, the police would probably appear from nowhere in a minute...

“Where did you get your bloody driving licence?” the soccer fan growled, ready to fight. “A bloody cereal packet?”

“What the hell’s your problem?” Dylan asked, stepping forward and invading the guy’s space. “
You
weren’t concentrating!”

“Yes I
was
, wanker. I’ve met arrogant bastards like you before, thinking you can drive your fancy sports cars like a lunatic the middle of London. You should all lose your driving licences – have them taken away from you!”

“Listen, asshole, you’re gonna lose your fucking teeth in a minute if you don’t give me your details. We’re obstructing the traffic!”

The man restrained himself from attacking Dylan. “You threatening me, mate?”

Sarah knew Dylan wouldn’t back down. She sighed. There was no way she could just sit here and watch two grown men descend into violence over their stupid cars. No longer caring about the threat of the Russians, she climbed out and strode over to join them across the street.

“Guys, come on. Let’s stay calm and deal with this like adults.”

The soccer fan glared at Sarah. “Well, if your husband knew how to drive properly, we wouldn’t be in this bloody mess, would we?”

Dylan leaned forward. “
Me
drive properly? You know you were in the wrong!”

Sarah held his hand. “Dylan, come on, let’s just take his vehicle registration and let the insurance companies deal with it.”

Dylan opened his mouth to reply, but the other guy hadn’t finished. “You Americans, you’re all the same, coming over here and thinking you know best. But we
do
actually drive on the left here. Just because you’ve got a flashy sports car, it doesn’t mean –”

The guy’s rant was suddenly cut short as something caught his attention over Sarah’s shoulder. From the look on his face, it was a terrible sight. She braced herself. It was going to a hitman, wasn’t it? Her body filled with dread and she scrunched up her eyes. But then she realised she could smell burning. She wheeled round and watched in terror as orange flames whooshed like a geyser from of the hood of Dylan’s car. Panic twisted in her stomach. Time slowed down to a slur as Dylan grabbed her arm, pulling her away and shielding her with his body. But she couldn’t drag her gaze away from the blinding flames and the swarming smoke that was already melting the metal and cracking the windshield.

“Someone’s trying to kill us,” she whispered.

“Get inside, sweetheart,” Dylan instructed. “And call the fire department.”

Sarah grabbed her phone from her purse as Dylan let go of her and ran into the street shouting to the other pedestrians to get inside, then he waved at the approaching traffic, telling them to reverse and block off the road. The thick black smoke was billowing in huge spirals now, infiltrating Sarah’s lungs like glass shards and making her cough. The bright orange flames crackled out-of-control as they ripped the car to pieces. Sarah’s eyes wept furiously in the blinding heat, and she realised with horror that the whole thing was a ticking time-bomb – an explosion was imminent. She willed herself to seek safety, but her feet were glued to the sidewalk with fear. She spoke frantically into her phone with the emergency services despatcher, begging them to hurry, then Dylan ran over and pulled her into a little café, as the car – no longer able to stand the pressure – exploded, raining down shattered glass and metal shards all over the now-empty street.

From the safety of the café, they watched as if they were in a cinema, viewing a big screen ahead of them. Detached. Sarah sank the soles of her shoes into the wooden floor of the café, trying to ground her spinning mind. Dylan pulled her into his arms, and she worked on calming her frantic breathing and thrashing heart, relaxing into his comforting embrace.

“I could’ve been in that car,” Sarah said, unable to pull her eyes away from the still-burning wreckage.

“We both could,” Dylan said.

Sarah realised that the man who’d crashed into the back of Dylan was now standing at their side, also captivated by the shattered debris and blinding flames. Without loosening his arms on Sarah, Dylan turned his head and spoke calmly to the man. “Thank you. Thank you for making us get out the car. You just saved our lives by being an asshole.”

The guy stared at Dylan in angry shock. Then he burst into laughter. “Shit, I guess I did. Thank god for your bad driving, eh, mate?”

Dylan chuckled. Sarah felt the world shift surreally around her. What the hell had caused the fire? Her mind tried to focus, but it wouldn’t settle on anything other than the revelation that she was alive. It was like a miracle.

A waiter approached them. “Hey, would you like to come and sit down? I can give you some tea – free of charge, of course. We’ve called the fire service, so they should be here soon.”

“I called them, too,” Sarah said, allowing herself to be guided over to sit at a wobbly wooden table.

Sarah held Dylan’s hand as the caring staff brought over cups of tea and slices of homemade cake. She listened with satisfaction as Dylan and the guy who he’d been so close to brawling with chatted amiably about soccer. It seemed that this man was a life-long Fenchurch United supporter, and he possessed extremely strong views about certain corrupt Russians coming over here and using the club for their own evil profiteering.

“My dad was an avid Fenchurch fan too,” Sarah said. “He loved that club – sometimes more than his own family I think!”

They all laughed at this – readily able to relate. Sarah sipped her tea and allowed herself to feel connected with all the people around her. She was touched by the warmth of these strangers. If someone
was
trying to kill her, maybe she was somehow being protected by a force-field of benevolence; it made Sarah want to do kind things in return.

Eventually, the firefighters arrived and extinguished the smouldering wreck that had once been a very nice car. Luckily Adam had only hired it for his short stay in London. But that wasn’t the point, was it? Someone had possibly tampered with it. Or planted a bomb… or something – perhaps when they’d been inside with Mikhail? Sarah held Dylan’s hand tight, wishing they could run away to an island somewhere and stay there until Orlov masterminded his own foolish downfall.

The police entered the café and questioned everyone, but Sarah and Dylan refrained from mentioning anything to do with Orlov, Natalia, Mikhail, or Ivan... Then they were free to go. The police towed the wreckage, but before they took it, one of their mechanics investigated the engine where the fire had started.

“It was an electrical fault, sir,” the mechanic explained. “It can happen sometimes. I was driving down the motorway once and the entire front of my van caught alight. Nothing to worry about, but it can be a bit of a shock, can’t it.”

An electrical fault? Even if the police believed that, Sarah knew the terrifying car fire had been much more than a mere accident. She craved to be somewhere secure, and – right now – there was only one place she could feel safe – the building that had been her sanctuary for so long. Her beloved hotel.

It seemed like forever since Sarah had last stepped into the marble lobby of the hotel that she’d given her heart and soul to. The huge space hadn’t changed much in the last few days – it was still a-gleam with its shiny floors and buzzing guests. But
she’d
changed. And hopefully for the better.

She felt nervous as she strolled over to the lavish reception desk with Dylan, but she relaxed as she was greeted with a gleeful gasp by Judy – the loyal young receptionist who Sarah had shared some lovely chats with over the years.

“Sarah!” she said. “Welcome back. We’ve missed you!”

“Thanks, Judy. It’s nice to see you.” Sarah opened her mouth to introduce Dylan, but someone behind called her name. “Sarah – it’s great to see you back!”

She turned and smiled into the eyes of the deputy manager, Nigel. He reached out and hugged her tight, which made her flinch, because he’d never done that before. She hoped Dylan would guess from his demeanour that Nigel was gay – she knew how possessive he could be at times. She eased herself out of Nigel’s arms, then she realised that other members of staff were drifting over to greet her. There was Jamil – the law student who worked as a bartender; George – the young porter who Sarah had recruited for ‘work-experience’ but who’d stayed for years; and Elsa – the semi-retired cleaner who’d been here since she left school aged fourteen.

They all seemed delighted to see her. It was like being a celebrity. No, it was like being a long-lost relative, returning to the arms of a loving family. The warm atmosphere embraced her, and she suddenly realised how much these people meant to her.

“We saw you on the news,” George said. “Your car caught fire. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine.” She reached out and held Dylan’s hand. He shot her a grin.

“But we could both do with a lie down,” Dylan said. He threw Judy his best smile.  “You got a vacant room?”

Judy blushed. “How about the honeymoon suite?”

“Sounds like the perfect place to hide out,” Dylan said, pulling Sarah close.

The honeymoon suite was exquisite. Sarah especially loved the engraved window-seat that overlooked the lush grounds. It consisted of a lavish bedroom, a separate living area, and an opulent marble bathroom – which Sarah insisted was always stocked with complimentary bath robes, massage oil, and a heart-shaped double bath.

They made themselves comfortable on the massive four-poster bed and ordered room service. “You okay, sweetheart?” Dylan asked.

She swallowed a mouthful of pizza. “Yeah… So do you think it
was
a bomb?”

“Not sure. If it was, why wasn’t there any evidence? Surely even the British police wouldn’t miss something like that?”

“I know. Unless Orlov’s bribed them.”

He rubbed her knee. “Nah, the British police are incorruptible. I do think someone tampered with the car. But I guess we’ll never know.”

“Well, whether or not it was done on purpose, we’re both lucky to be living and breathing. Nearly getting blown up certainly gives you a new perspective on life, doesn’t it?”

He chuckled kindly. “Sure does.”

Sarah kissed him on the lips. “I think I might take a shower. I wouldn’t mind a moment alone. Is that okay?”

“Sure, babe.” He raised a playful eyebrow. “You taking your vibrating lipstick in with you?”

Sarah burst into laughter. “Why would I do that when I’ve got you out here waiting for me?”

“Good point.” He kissed her, then pulled out his phone. “I’ll be right here.”

Sarah was relieved that he understood she wanted some time alone. Perhaps he also needed some time to reflect. It had been a really weird day. A really weird week.

She stood in silence in the luxury bathroom for a moment, relishing the extravagance around her. Even though everything was made of white marble, the ambience was warm and welcoming. The red-heart motif carved on the sink and bathtub had always struck Sarah as slightly cheesy, but the guests seemed to love it, so what could she do? The customer was always right.

She was tempted to light a few scented candles, create a romantic atmosphere, and invite Dylan to join her. But she’d come in for a few minutes alone, and she wanted to enjoy them.

She stripped off her dress, climbed into the huge tub, and stood under the glorious warm jet of water, allowing her tingling body to be soothed. She exhaled and relaxed completely; the only things in existence were Sarah, the warm water, and this moment in time. Her emotions unravelled and she felt strangely content. She breathed. Ah… this was nice…

The tears came upon her with such unexpected force that she feared she’d be ripped in two. She gasped as the pent-up emotion from the last few crazy days cracked and she sobbed suddenly under the shower, allowing the purge to take on its own momentum. Her throat shuddered as her mind whirled like the steam that was now filling up the room. What a week it’d been. Dylan was back in her life; he loved her. Someone was trying to kill her. Ivan was dead, then he was alive. He’d invented a device which could liberate humanity, and – last night – she’d helped Dylan to destroy the very last piece of it, because humanity couldn’t be trusted not to do bad things.

And today someone had tried to blow her up. But she was still alive. And she regretted none of it. A steely strength spiralled through her as she realised that as long as she had good people around – as long as she was good – then the evils of this world couldn’t defeat her. Not even if she died. Her sobs slowly turned to sniffles and the tears were washed down the shiny plughole. She watched the water swirl away, and she laughed, ready to face the world again. 

She switched off the shower with a jaunty flourish, then wrapped herself up in a snuggly bathrobe and padded back out to the bedroom. Dylan was lying on the huge bed, with his head propped up on a couple of pillows, reading emails on his phone.

She grabbed his foot. “Hello.”

He sat up and grinned, chucking his phone to the vanity table. “Come here, beautiful.”

She crawled over the springy bed to join him and they kissed. 

“Ready for that massage I promised you, sweetheart?”

“I’d love that!”

He leaned over and grabbed a bottle of expensive massage oil from the vanity table, so Sarah shuffled around to sit between his legs. He drew her into his warm body and nibbled her neck, shooting delightful lust through her thighs.

“Well, I can’t massage you with this on,” he said, drawing the robe down around her shoulders and making it fall open at the front. Sarah realised with excitement that her arms were bound by the material, so now she was at Dylan’s disposal.

She heard him squirt the oil into his palm, then he reached up and slid his strong hands over her tired shoulders. He dug his thumbs into the tense muscles between her shoulder-blades, making her gasp in pleasure and pain.

“How does it feel?” Dylan whispered into her ear.

“Amazing,” she said. “You’re amazing.”

He reached down and pulled off her robe, dropping it to the floor so that she was naked. It was a warm day, and her body was hot from the rush of lust.

“Naked and oily,” he said, “Just how I like you.”

She chuckled, pushing down her desire. He reached down and grabbed the belt from her robe then tied it around her eyes with both hands.

“Now you’re my prisoner. I want you to feel absolute pleasure at my hands. You’re mine.”

He resumed the massage and Sarah gasped at his touch. The blindfold stole her sight, increasing the joy of being stroked and fondled by her lover. It was bliss.

“Lie on your front,” he said, helping her into position. Sarah settled down onto her stomach on the soft bed – blindfolded, naked, vulnerable, yet secure.

She heard Dylan undressing, then he straddled her yearning body and began to massage her shoulders again, applying more oil to her tight muscles – and sending pure delight through her unwinding body. His skilled hands made their way down to her lower-back, then they swept sensuously over her buttocks. She’d never had her ass massaged before and it felt subversive as well as incredibly relaxing.

“I love touching your wonderful body,” he said, easing his fingers between her thighs. “Your perfect ass, your slender thighs… your tight sweet pussy…”

Sarah groaned as he circled his fingers around the opening of her pussy, taking his time to tease and entice her. She could feel her G-spot straining with desire, desperate to be stimulated by that glorious long hard cock. Her clit throbbed, and her pussy was wet – ready for him.

“You want me, sweetheart?” he said, massaging her thighs in long circular strokes. “You want me inside you?”

“Yes, Dylan!” she whispered.

He lowered himself over her, covering her securely, and resting his weight on his knees and elbows – which held her in place.

“I need to thrust deep into you,” he whispered into her ear. “But first I need to warm you up a bit more, huh?”

Sarah’s body flooded with pleasure as Dylan reached down and eased his hand under her pelvis. The oil on his fingertip was the perfect lubricant, and her throbbing clit rubbed easily against it, rocketing up her passion and preparing her to come hard.

She started to lower her head to the bed, but he pulled her hair roughly, lifting her face to look at him. She was still blindfolded, but she pictured an incredibly erotic expression on his handsome face. Dominating. Self-assured.

“I need to see you coming,” he growled. “I need to hear you cry out how much you love me.”

He lifted his hips and eased the tip of his cock into her wet pussy, still rubbing her clit with his fingers. It felt amazing to be filled up by him in this position. Possessed by him entirely. Sarah’s hips thrust automatically, trying to get him inside her – she was desperate to feel her body explode into delight as he fucked her hard and rough.

“Not yet,” he whispered. “Not until I say.”

He teased her by lingering his cock at the opening of her pussy, rapidly sending sparks of joy into her, before he then suddenly thrust hard, filling her up completely. She groaned like an animal. It was agony and ecstasy combined. He lowered his head and bit her hard on the neck, making her feel like a lioness being taken by the strongest male in the pride. She ground her hips wildly as he thrust faster and faster – harder and harder – rubbing her clit into his fingers and the bed, until the euphoria struck hard between her legs and spread intensely over her body. Her pussy contacted around him, pulling him further in, as her mind filled with sheer delight.

“Oh, yes Dylan!” she moaned, unable to stop herself.

He wrapped her up in his strong arms as he came deep, holding her tight as they climaxed together.

Sarah’s intense orgasm gently faded and was replaced with adoration for her man. He pulled the blindfold down from her eyes and she saw him grinning smugly, knowing he’d made her come hard and forget all her troubles. He’d made her forget
everything
.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, caressing her face with oily fingers. He eased himself out of her, and removed the condom. Then he sat back against the velvet headboard as Sarah’s tingling body continued to soar in rosy contentment.

“Come here,” he said, rubbing the sole of her foot. “Come and let me hold you, babe.”

Feeling like a lazy lion on a scorching day, Sarah pushed herself up and crawled woozily over to snuggle against his warm toned chest.

He kissed her on the head. “Oh, by the way. I had an email from Orlov’s assistant.”

Sarah sat up. “What?”

“It’s okay. It was just to confirm that Orlov’s still looking forward to seeing me at the press conference tomorrow to announce the sponsorship deal.”

“And you’re still going? Even after what just happened?”

“I guess so. I mean, he can’t kill me in front of the papers, right?”

Sarah gazed at him. “I hope not.”

He traced his finger along her cheek. “Orlov must be shitting his pants right now. He knows we took the blueprint and he wants it back before his cronies kill him slowly and painfully. Ball’s in our court, babe. Nothing to worry about.”

“But you’re not actually signing anything tomorrow?”

“No way. It’s just a press conference. But it’ll be a great opportunity to talk to him quietly face to face – with everyone around.”

“Okay.” Sarah kissed Dylan tenderly on the lips. “I’m coming too.”

“No, Sarah, I don’t want you –”

“Out of your sight. You don’t want me out of your sight. And I don’t want you out of mine. I’m coming to the press conference.”