Because He Takes Me (Because He Owns Me, Book Two) (An Alpha Billionaire Romance)

BECAUSE HE TAKES ME (Because He Owns Me, Book
Two)

by
Hannah Ford

Copyright 2015, Hannah Ford, all rights
reserved.
 
This book is a work of
fiction, and any resemblance to any persons, living or dead, is entirely
coincidental.

ADRIANA

“So I don’t get it,” Nessa said, peering into
the open suitcase that was lying on my bed.
 
“You’re going away for a whole weekend
with him?
 
Is that safe?”

“It’s not really a whole weekend,” I said, trying
to keep my tone light as I flicked through the clothes in my closet.
 
Why oh why hadn’t I bought more things
with me from Michigan?
 
Because you didn’t have anything in Michigan,
I reminded myself.
 
Certainly nothing
suitable for a weekend away in Florida with a gorgeous billionaire.
 
The other problem, besides my lack of
suitable attire, was that I had no idea how we would be spending our time.
 
Did I need clothes for going out?
 
Or were we going to stay in the hotel
the whole time having sex? What would I do while Callum was attending his
business meetings?

“It’s today
and
 
tomorrow
,” Nessa pressed.
 
“Saturday
and
Sunday.
 
That’s the weekend.”

“But it’s only one night,” I said, cringing as
I said the words.
 
They sounded so
cheap.
 
My heart constricted at the
thought of no-strings-attached, just-for-one-night sex.
 
What if I liked it?
 
What if I wanted to see him again?

Stop,
I
chided myself.
 
This is not a
romance.
 
You barely know the
man.
 
And if you’re going to start
getting all worked up about him, then you better not even go on this trip.
 

“Still,” Nessa said, playing with the zipper on
my suitcase.
 
“I mean, are you… do
you even know anything about him?
 
He could be a murderer or a crazed stalker.”

“I don’t think so,” I said, throwing a short
black summer dress onto the rumpled pile of clothes in my suitcase and staring
critically at the whole, tangled mess.
 
“I googled him.”

“So?” Nessa said.
 
“You can’t tell everything about someone
from googling them.
  
Someone’s
LinkedIn profile or facebook page isn’t going to tell you if they have a
criminal record.”

I bit my lip and felt my face start to
flush.
 
I crossed the room and
pulled a white t-shirt out of my drawer and folded it in half, then placed it
carefully in my suitcase.

“What is it?” Nessa asked.
 
“Why do you have red cheeks and a quiet
mouth?”

“I don’t,” I said quickly, but it was too late.

“Adriana O’Connor,” she said, jumping up from
the bed.
 
“You’re hiding
something.
 
And I don’t like it.”

“I’m not hid –” I started, but then I
realized Nessa had a bit of a point.
 
There was a difference between trying to be coy, and staying safe.
 
Someone should know exactly where I was
and
who
I was with.
 
“Okay,” I said, sitting down on the side
of the bed.
 
“It’s… I’m going with
Callum Wilder.”

Nessa frowned, confusion passing over her face
for a moment before understanding dawned in her green eyes.
 
“Callum Wilder?
 
The
billionaire
Callum
Wilder?”
 
She shifted excitedly on
the bed, threatening to send the topsy-turvy pile of clothes in my suitcase
tumbling to the floor.
 
“Are you
serious?
 
How the hell did you meet
him?”

“At the, um…. I met him the night my date stood
me up.”

“At the BDSM club?”
 
I could hear the thin thread of
disapproval laced through her voice.

“No,” I said, the lie slipping out before I
could stop it.
 
“No, I went to
another place after that, to console myself with a drink.”

“Wow,” she said, her eyebrows furrowing into a
skeptical V.
 
“It must have been a
pretty swanky place.”

“It was,” I said, standing up and heading back
to my dresser so Nessa wouldn’t be able to see my face.

I began pawing through my underwear drawer just
in case there was something I’d missed.
 
 
It had been two days since
my lunch with Callum, and I’d spent some of that time trying to do something
about my lingerie collection.
 
I
didn’t have the money for the expensive things they sold at Bloomingdales and
Nordstrom – La
Perla
and Rose & Fox and all
kinds of other brands that sounded foreign and exotic.
 
But the Frederick’s of Hollywood website
seemed a little too trashy, so I’d compromised with a bra and panty set from
Victoria’s Secret.
 
That, along with
the waxing I’d had at the salon down the street and a pretty maxi dress in a
turquoise and cream print I’d purchased at a tiny boutique on the Upper West
Side, had put a serious dent in my bank account.

“So, what, he just came up to you and asked you
for your number?” Nessa pressed.

“Yeah,” I said.
 
“Well, not at first.
 
At first we just, you know, got to
talking
.
 
And
then when I was leaving he asked for my number.”

“And your address?”
 

I knew she was thinking about the flowers
Callum had sent, trying to figure out how he’d known where to send them.
 
“Um, well, my name.
 
 
So he probably just googled me.”

“Okay.”
 
Nessa looked doubtful, and I didn’t blame her.
 
It was pretty easy to figure out exactly
what she was thinking – she was wondering why Callum would go through all
that trouble to track down my address just to send me flowers, she was
wondering why a gorgeous billionaire like Callum Wilder was interested in me at
all.
 

I wasn’t mad at her for thinking those things.
 
How could I be?
 
Everything she was thinking had gone
through my head at least a million times over the past two days, only it was
worse, because I actually knew the whole story.
 
I hadn’t told Callum my last name or my
phone number.
 
He’d figured it all
out himself, and I had no idea how.

Not to mention the fact that I’d met him at a
BDSM club, that he’d made it perfectly clear that his sexual appetite was whetted
by punishing women and God knew what else, and that he’d told me he was only
going to be with me for one night.

“Well, when are you leaving?” Nessa asked.

 
I
checked my watch.
 
“He’s sending a
car for me at nine.”

“He’s not picking you up himself?”

“No,” I said, making sure my voice sounded
firm, and not offering any other explanation.
 
It was fine for Nessa to have her
opinions, but I had to draw the line somewhere.
 
There was nothing she could say to me
that I hadn’t already thought of myself.

“Well, have fun,” she said, giving me a
smile.
 
“Make sure you text me when
you get there, though, okay?
 
And
like, give me updates?”
 

“Of course.”
 

She gave me a hug before skipping out of my
room, leaving me to deal with zipping up my overfull suitcase.
 
Why oh why hadn’t I thought to buy a new
bathing suit? All I had was my orange and pink striped one piece I’d had since
two years ago when I was a camp counselor.
 
We weren’t going to be swimming were we?
 
He’d said one night.
 
And that he didn’t do dates.

My cell phone rang, and when I answered it, a
professional and polite sounding woman informed me that my car was waiting
downstairs.

I thanked her and swallowed around the lump in
my throat.

I paused for a second to think about whether or
not I really wanted to do this.
 
It
was so out of character for me.
 
I
wasn’t a risk taker, or someone who was reckless with my heart.
 
And this felt very reckless, not just
with my heart, but with my body, my soul, everything.

I considered it, turning it over and over in my
head like A Rubik’s cube, examining it from every angle.
 
But just like a Rubik’s cube, none of it
made any sense.

I waited one more beat, and when no answer
came, I picked up my suitcase and headed outside to meet the car.

***

I’d never taken a car service before, and I
found I quite liked it.
 
The woman
driver was sweet and nice, just chatty enough to be friendly without feeling
like she was being pushy or intruding.

When she pulled off the FDR and headed for
Jersey, I sat up straight.

“Are we… are we flying out of LaGuardia?” I
asked.
 
All I’d gotten from Callum
was a text message yesterday telling me that a car would be picking me up at
nine am on Saturday morning to take me to the airport.
 
There had been no other information
given, and I’d just assumed we’d be leaving from JFK.

“No, miss,” the
woman
said.
 
“Teterboro.”

“Teterboro?” I frowned, turning the unfamiliar
name over in my mouth.

“Yes, miss.
 
Mr. Wilder is taking the jet.”

Taking the jet!
 
What the
hell?
 
I’d hardly ever even been on
a plane before, my flying experience limited to a trip to Disney when I was
eight and the flight that had taken me to New York from Michigan.
 
And now I was going to be flying on a
jet?
 
Was it Callum’s?
When we got to the airport, we were allowed to pull right onto the runway.
 

My heart hammered in my chest as the plane came
into view, a gleaming silver and white capsule.
 
I couldn’t even begin to imagine how
much a private jet cost.

The door to the car opened, and I looked up,
expecting to see the friendly face of the driver.

But instead, Callum’s ocean blue eyes stared back
at me.
 
“Hello, Adriana,” he said
coolly.
 

“Hi,” I said, my pulse racing.

He held his hand out and I took it as he helped
me out of the car.

A rush of wind blew up as I stepped out,
blowing my hair across my face, the strands catching in my mouth.
 
Callum reached up and pushed them back,
and just the feel of his touch set me on fire.

“Was the ride satisfactory?” he asked as he
began leading me toward the steps of the plane, his hand still wrapped around
mine.

“Oh, um, yes,” I said.
 
“The ride was great, it was…it was,
fine, I mean, it was smooth.”
 
I
took a deep breath and tried to collect myself.
 
“My bag, though,” I said.
 
“It’s in the trunk.”

“Samuel will take care of it,” Callum said.

“Who’s Samuel?” I asked.
 
We were almost at the stairs of the
plane now, and Callum’s strides were long, his tall frame able to walk quickly
while making it
look
like he was strolling.
 
I was too short to match my strides to
his, and I hurried to keep up.

He turned to look at me.

He didn’t say anything for a moment, just held
my gaze, and a shot of adrenaline zinged through my body.
 
He was just so freakin’
hot.
 
He was freshly shaven, his
dark
 
hair
perfectly styled with just the right amount of gel.
 
His long legs were encased in a pair of
jeans that hugged his ass and he was wearing a plain black t-shirt that wasn’t
even tight and yet somehow still showed off just how rock hard his body was.
 
His blue eyes blazed bright against his
dark complexion, his jawline strong and defined.