BREATHE: A Billionaire Romance, Part Four (6 page)

I wanted to laugh.

I had kept my want completely under control.

But he hadn’t.

Mr. Derek Sholts, intimidating business man, gorgeous billionaire, and genius—was actually letting his voice crack and plead with the likes of little ol’ me.

It was funny.

“I’m going to fucking burst if something doesn’t happen—and quickly.” He looked down at his throbbing cock, gesturing towards it.

“In time,” I whispered, but he wasn’t listening; he wasn’t taking commands. He was taking control into his own hands as they slid down my back. He roamed downwards, finding my zipper and unzipped my skirt, just before pulling it down and letting it fall to the floor—along with my panties.

He reached behind me and grabbed my bare ass, fondling the flesh with his gloriously strong palms. Electric shivers began to roll up and down my spine, as he continued to knead my butt cheeks, and I ran my hand along his throbbing cock through his pants.

“Take them off,” he said, his erection growing even harder.

I smiled, devilishly but didn’t waste any time. I obliged him and fingered the top button until it snapped open, and then I unzipped him, his member immediately bouncing out.

“No underwear?” I whispered seductively, watching his pants join my skirt on the floor. “Naughty….”

He pulled my hips forward, his cock nestling between my now-naked thighs. I shuddered, his shaft rubbing against my slit. He was so close—so teasingly close—to entering me. I moaned softly, as I buried my face into his chest.

“God, I want you!” He whispered in my ear, sliding a hand between our writhing bodies and running his hand over my slit, causing me to shiver.

“Like that?” he whispered, his finger sliding effortlessly over my wetness. “Or would you prefer this?”

He took his hand away and pulled his cock back towards me. I whimpered again, more than aware that he was mere millimeters away from pushing the head of his glorious member into my more-than-accepting wetness.

He kissed my neck, and I groaned, hardly able to take it anymore.

Releasing my ass, he snaked his hand between us once again—only north of where he had gone the first time. This time, he chose to fondle and play with my breasts rather than my slit.

He pinched my hardening nipple between his thumb and index finger just before devouring my mouth with his. It was all too much; the sensations were building; they were causing me to ache with a need unlike any other.

“Make my dream come true….” I groaned out, breaking the kiss, and immediately realized that I shouldn’t have.

“Your dream?” he questioned, his brows rising in question.

I groaned. “You’re killing the mood.”

“You’re the one who brought it up!” he laughed.

“I once had a dream about having sex with you in here…before we were together.” I rolled my eyes. “Now can we get back to it, or do you have to be egotistical about it?”

“I knew you thought of me,” he smirked, just before enveloping my mouth once more.

I let it go, though. What choice did I have? Derek was going to be Derek whether I scolded him or not. I just wanted to get laid; I wanted to make that sexy dream a reality.

“The desk,” I growled, as I threw my head back, suddenly remembering where the dream had taken place.

“I like how you think!” he breathed, clearly excited, but I didn’t bother to listen. I had already broken free and made my way to lay across the desk, completely naked. I smiled seductively before beckoning him towards me with a curled finger.

He smiled, clearly into it, and I had to admit that I had no idea that I could be that damn sexy.

I didn’t know I had it in me.

“Come on Derek,” I purred as he got closer to the spot that I had already set out for us to fuck on. I wrapped my fingers around his girth, pulling him the rest of the way. “I think it’s time that you show me how good you really are.” His shaft began to throb beneath my touch and I could do nothing but grin devilishly in response. “I want you to fuck me….” I moaned, as if he was already inside of me.

And he did; oh God, he did.

The rhythm of every thrust was intoxicating, as I met him stroke for stroke. I bucked my hips, letting him sink deeper and deeper inside of me. I was completely lost in the moment, as he circled my clit with his fingers and continued to pound in and out of me.

“Please don’t stop!” I yelled out, not believing how much better it all was than the dream.

I wasn’t sure if it was from how much I loved him, or if it was just because he was that damned good in person—but it was incredible. Even more so than it always was with him.

I gasped and moaned over and over, as his hands roamed my body and kneaded my breasts.

“Give me what I want!” I screamed out again, as he continued to pump in and out of me with vigorous strength and determination.

My head and back slammed against the wall, as he continued plowing into me atop the desk’s surface. Every thrust knocked more and more of my breath out of me; I felt that my lungs had somehow deteriorated into nothing, but I didn’t care. I was fine being breathless if it meant the rest of me felt so damned good.

I almost screamed, but before I could, he pulled me back towards him, away from the wall. He pulled my lips to his, capturing my mouth and tongue before I could give us away to the rest of the office, or anyone trying to listen in.

I loved it; and I loved him.

It was far from romantic, though, despite the love both of us so clearly felt; and it was really far from tender, but, my God, it was sensational.

He explored me, and I him. It was as if two animals were preying on one another; neither of us necessarily the prey, both of us definitely predators, ready to consume one another completely.

Our mouths continued to devour the other. And each and every time he offered his tongue to me, I accepted it, sucking hard, feeding off the power and intensity of the moment. I let it fuel me; I let it move me almost completely.

My hands moved frantically over his soft, smooth flesh, and I relished in every inch. Touching him caused my entire body to tingle in pleasant little shocks. I hurriedly ran my hand over his shoulders and down the groove of his back, mentally noting every muscle, every ripple of strength that he displayed as I did.

We writhed. We moaned. We groaned together, neither really satisfied, and both completely unable to get enough of the other.

Suddenly, I felt all air leave me and my head go light. I had no idea what the sensation was that was rushing over me. I groaned audibly, the vibrations from it likely tickling his tongue just as they had mine. 

He moaned into me in reciprocating fervor, and I felt a crazy electricity build and shoot throughout my mouth and body until a tingling sensation in my ear caused me to shudder and absolutely all breath leave me.

I couldn’t breathe.

At all.

I interlaced my fingers in his thick hair, just before gripping it and jerking his head back violently so that our mouths separated. 

I gasped for air, and I looked at him. He was worried, his expression puzzled with concern. “Jesus, what the fuck, Zoe?” he panted. “What was that for?”

He held his lips, clearly hurt. I watched a small droplet of blood ooze out of the bottom corner of his mouth.

“Ugh. I’m sorry.” My chest was heaving. “Couldn't breathe.”

“Are you fine now?” he fussed, clearly frustrated.

I smirked and nodded. “You big baby.”

I grabbed his face with both hands, and the mauling continued. Our tongues wrestled and our hands searched desperately as we tore at each other’s skin and clothes, not caring which we ripped at. He continued to thrust in and out of me with power and enthusiasm, as our bodies rocked atop the office desk.

“Mmm, oh yeah!” I screamed. “You make me so happy. Fuck me! God, Derek, fuck me!”

I was being so crass as I lay beneath him, my legs spread wide open, pulling him in and out of myself. I couldn’t believe it.

“I would rather make love,” he interrupted with a passionate and gasping sigh. It was probably the most vulnerable thing I had ever heard in my life. And I was fine with that.

More than fine with it. My heart melted, actually.

It melted so fully, so completely, that I was sure that I wanted no one else for the remainder of my days. Only him. He was all I ever wanted; all that I ever needed.

We must have changed positions a million times atop his gorgeous wooden desk. I was on top, and then underneath, and then bent over the top, and then on top all over again. The reality was so much more satisfying than any dream that I could have imagined.

I ground my mound against his pubic bone wildly, as I continued to ride his glory.

I lowered myself down on him…then back up…only to slam myself back down again.

It seemed that everything surrounding us went into a sort of oblivion. There was nothing else but he and I. Everything else was out of focus. It was like looking at a photo and looking to where the camera lens focused. We were the focus. Everything else was background noise; blurry images captured for a solid moment.

There was no work. There certainly was no office, or people just outside the door.

There was no sickness.

There was nothing but us, as we continued to whirl, tangled up in one another in a fit of love and sex—vulnerable love-making, open love-making, and above all…love-love-making.

Or perhaps; just love in general.

“I love you,” I said with a gasp.

“I love you, Zoe,” he said. “So very much. You mean everything to me,” he whispered into my ear, the heat from his breath searing into my skin. His thrusts slowed, but they also became more intense. It was almost a perfect representation on the moment at hand, too. 

“I know,” I purred, my hands gripping his hips, pulling him down onto me, as I tried to speed him up. “I love you, too—so, so much.”

And with that we both came, together, in complete unison.

We both sighed, content with the moment as we untangled ourselves from one another—and then, in perfect mood-killing fashion, my phone began to ring.

And it was my mother.

“Hello?” I gasped, out of breath, hoping to keep my composure.

I didn’t want to answer; and I thought about not answering.

I thought about screening it.

But I knew better.

I knew that she knew I was allowed to answer personal calls at work. And she wasn’t one to be okay with anyone screening her calls, especially me.

“We’re going to lunch,” she replied in a hurried and direct voice.

“Mama, I need to work through lunch.”

“Your boyfriend ain’t letting you go to lunch with your mama?” She spoke so loud that I knew he had to hear her, especially because he leaned back on the desk, his bare body shining out to me. I didn’t dare look down though. I knew it was there, and I knew that it probably—although spent—looked marvelous. But I couldn’t look at it. I couldn’t.

Not while my mom was on the phone.

So my eyes remained on his chest, his beautiful, beautiful chest.

“Go to lunch with her,” he chuckled, noticing that I was looking at him.

“Meet me outside my office building and we’ll go somewhere.” I was quick to hang up because if I knew anything, I knew she was already downstairs waiting on me. And I knew that if I didn’t hurry off the phone, I’d be standing in Derek’s office naked until she came looking for me.

And I was not about to explain that to anyone, especially her.

I sat across the table from Mama and Laura and hoped that I didn’t smell like sex. We were in a diner, just down the street from my office; and I was glad that I had actually agreed to it. I was starving after the sex session I had just had.

“How is Derek?” Laura smirked and immediately a red flush rose to my cheeks. I wondered if she knew.

“He’s at work still, taking care of things,” I said, nonchalantly, and immediately Mama and Laura looked at one another.

“Is that a good idea?” Laura piped up, worriedly.

My brows contorted in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“He’s sick, and he needs to be resting, not working?” She said it as if it was the most logical statement in the world and then turned it into a question. And she was right, but there was no telling Derek that. And not only that, but I had just had sex with him all over his office. I had no right to tell him to rest at all.

“He will never listen to that.” I laughed, taking a sip of my water.

“Just like your father.” Mama smiled.

I cringed. I didn’t want Derek to be compared to my father. Ever. Especially considering the situation.

Comparing Derek’s illness and willingness to survive to my father’s…. almost took away any hope that I had left for Derek making it.

Daddy died.

I didn’t want the same fate for Derek—and a part of me held faith that it wouldn’t be.

But yet, she compared them, and in all fairness, she wasn’t wrong. For all intents and purposes, she was right. They were very comparable in that light.

I sighed and looked down at the table’s surface and immediately Mama sensed that what she had said was probably the wrong thing.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Zoe!” she shouted in a whisper. I nodded in response. Logically, I knew that, but it didn’t make me think any differently.

“There is something I wanted to talk to you guys about,” I said, changing the subject. “When we were at the hospital, I heard the attending emergency room doctor say that there were inconsistencies in Derek’s charts, and when he asked to do more tests, Dr. Freeman wouldn’t let him.”

“That man’s a snake!” Mama said loudly just before stirring her coffee.

“Anyways, psycho!” Laura snapped at Mama. “It has nothing to do with Dr. Freeman. If there are any inconsistencies, take him to get a second opinion. That’s what I would do.”

Mama glared at Laura. “Excuse you? Did you just call me a psycho?”

Laura giggled, shortly followed by Mama. I loved them; the tone could be serious, but yet, they still found a reason to smile—and by result, make me smile. I loved how playful they always were without being completely inappropriate. And I loved that Derek had told me to go to lunch with them. I was glad that I got to do it.

Talking to them gave me insight on what to do about the Dr. Freeman situation. Something about him already didn’t feel right, but knowing that there were inconsistencies with Derek’s health scared me.

It made me question his competency.

It made me wonder if he wasn’t only a narcissistic asshole, but if he was an imbecilic one, as well.

I wished, though, that my sister and mama were around to help me convince Derek because as soon as I walked back into his office and spoke, I could tell that it was going to be a hard sell.

“I’ve been thinking…,” I trailed, walking around his desk so that I could wrap my arms around him from behind his spot in the chair. I smiled, as my head rested on his shoulder, and I looked at the desk on which we had just had fiery hot sex. “And I think you should get a second opinion.”

I knew it wasn’t the best way to bring it up, or even any sort of way to bring it up at all, but it was all that I had. I pressed my breasts against his back a little more, hoping that the cushion of my bosom might somehow cushion the blow of me thinking his doctor was an idiot.

“Second opinion on what?” he giggled. “Are we about to role-play?”

I rolled my eyes. Of course he was thinking about sex.

“No!” I shot, leaning back off of him just before I swatted him in the back of the head.

He tensed. “Well, what were you talking about?!” he snapped, swiveling his chair around to look at me. He reached around me and grabbed my ass, just before pulling me to him.

He looked up at me, his brows questioning, and I could tell that I had to voice my concern.

“I overheard the doctors talking in the hospital, and Dr. Lawrence said there were some inconsistencies in your file that he wanted to retest.” I was direct and concise, hoping that I didn’t make him mad.

He scrunched his face in confusion. “Did he say that to Doc?” he asked.

I nodded almost immediately.

“Well then he probably re-ran tests, then.”

He smiled up at me, bearing a re-assuring smile, but I wasn’t convinced.

“He seemed angry that Dr. Lawrence would question him.” I defended my stance. “I think you need a second opinion.”

“But I don’t need another doctor,” he replied sweetly, leaning his head back.

“I didn’t say you did.”

“That is what you’re saying though.”

“Well, fine, if that’s how you want to hear it, then yes, yes, you do need a new doctor.” I corrected. I wasn’t going to let him live it down; not after everything that I heard in the hospital.

“Doc has been my doctor for a while now.”

“I don’t care. You always get a second opinion!” And I truly believed that; it didn’t matter that I had some sort of unknown vendetta against his doctor.

The guy
was
creepy though; I didn’t care if he had somehow, miraculously turned his life around ever since he was a psychotic young child; he was still creepy. I thought so before I even knew the truth.

But that was why I told him to get the second opinion.

His creepiness certainly didn’t help matters. In fact, I would say that it made me want him to get a second opinion even more, but even if I didn’t feel weary of him, I still should have suggested a second opinion ages ago.

I couldn’t believe I hadn’t already.

“If Doc finds out, he’ll go apeshit with anger,” he groaned. “He’ll think I don’t trust his opinion.”

“I don’t care.” I didn’t.

“Why would I need another doctor?” He was confused, rightfully so, but I saw something in this guy that I didn’t like. Part of me wondered if he was a good doctor at all, and if his abilities were clouded by the fact that he was his brother.

“Everyone gets a second opinion, Derek.”

“I’m sick, Zoe. It doesn’t matter if you want it to be true or not.”

“That’s not what this is Derek.” I felt tears well up as I leaned into him for support. “I’ve accepted that horrible fact….” His hands moved away from the underside of my bum and ran up to the small of my back. He was holding me. I looked down at him once again. “I really just want to make sure that you have the best treatment you can.”

He sighed deeply, clearly torn. But then he nodded.

“I’ll get the second opinion.”