Irresistible (Underneath it All Series: Book One) (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (7 page)

Open.

Free.

Insatiable.

I knew she was close, I could feel it in her body. The way she pulled me deeper, raking her nails down my back. The noises she made, pleading, delirious with pleasure. Her whole body shook and I rocked with her climax. The warmth intensified, wrapping me in her release. I kept pumping, relishing the way she rocked like this orgasm was going to kill her and it would be worth it.

And we weren't even done yet.

"On your hands and knees," I growled, and I didn't wait for her to comply. I did what I said I would, flipping her over on her stomach. I scooped my arm under and around her waist, and she rose on her hands and knees. I forced her forward, her chest against the mattress, her ass in the air. The soft fabric of her lingerie spilled to her waist and I groaned with approval at my view. The slip of pink fabric was sopping wet, and I yanked it to the side a second time and slipped my finger inside her. She was so wet. So ready for more.

I gripped her hips and went back where I belonged, so deep that I couldn't help but close my eyes. The room fell away. The world fell away. The only thing that remained was the pulsing. The building pleasure that made holding on, holding back, impossible.

"You're gonna make me come again," she panted, balling the sheets in her fist as she let out a moan. A single note that shattered me.

She came.

I came.

We came.

Hard.

I collapsed against the mattress, still trying to remember to breathe. To not focus on the fact that I hadn't been with anyone like that...well, ever.

When she snuggled up beside me, panting, still shuddering, I ignored the part of me that wanted to pull her close. To kiss the crown of her head.

"I've gotta go," I lied, pushing off the bed. I discarded the memory of the good and reminded myself that this was just pretend. A transaction.

I pretended it didn't sting when she didn't say a word as I tugged my clothing back on. When we'd seen each other at The Red Room, her thrill at seeing me again hit me squarely in the chest. I turned back to her before I left, ready to make some joke to cover my contradictory behavior, but she gave me a look that punched a hole through my chest.

"Don't request me again."

There was no anger in her voice. No hurt.

There was nothing at all.

And the weight of that, and not seeing her again, was everything.

––––––––

I
balanced an angry manager on one side of town with family drama on the other, and a rental car counter clerk who looked just as pissed as Gail sounded.

She pointedly cleared her throat. “I’m sorry Miss, but we don’t allow cell phone use-”

“Who was that in the background?” Gail barked. The reception wasn’t the best, but her suspicion came through clear as a bell. “Where are you?”

I held up an apologetic finger for the clerk, who looked ready to call the police because I’d broken their rule. I knew I was being
that
person. The jerk who was blathering on their phone nonstop, like the person standing in front of them was invisible. She wasn’t invisible. In fact, I was glad that she, and Hefty Rental, existed. I’d been banned from Zipcar and every other rental car company in the city thanks to my mother. It took two car thefts, three fender benders, and the woman literally setting a car on fire for me to learn my lesson and not put her rental in my name. At least I’d been smart enough to say ‘yes’ to the insurance. And until my little sister Rose walked across that stage and put all this drama behind her, I’d have to keep saying ‘yes’ to my mother.

“Hello?!” Gail snapped impatiently. “Are you still there? What’s going on?”

‘My mother texted me 911 which is rarely a bluff’ would not have gotten me out of my shift at The Red Room. Any other manager would have sighed when I called in sick and gone about the business of finding coverage for my shift. Gail preferred to run through my entire medical history so she could diagnose my illness over the phone. In her warped imagination, she probably thought she was being helpful, but from over here, it felt like she was trying to catch me in a lie.

“What time did you go to bed last night?” she grilled me. “Were you feeling sick last night? Maybe that’s why you dropped the tray and wasted hundreds of dollars in liquor. That’s coming out of your check, by the way.”

Now my stomach really was hurting. I could feel every dollar being deducted from the little amount I took home in the first place. I knew for a fact that she could let it slide. I’d seen her let lots of things slide with other employees who kissed her ass and wanted to remind her that even Javier would raise an eyebrow at such blatant favoritism. Instead, I reminded myself that I had to choose my battles and fix the problem in front of me, which was selling my illness.

“I’m sorry about the drinks,” I apologized. For the hundredth time. I pivoted away from the lasers the rental counter clerk fired with her eyes. “I’d come in, but I don’t think Javier would want me to risk getting other people sick. Or the customers. And I-”

“Alright, alright,” Gail cut in, like she wasn’t the one forcing me to beg her. She released a sigh that was filled with the weight of the world, and now, thanks to me, it just got a little heavier. “I’ll find someone to take your shift.”

I exhaled and turned back to the counter. “Thank you, Gail.”

“Mmhm.” She sounded so disgusted that she’d given in to me that she could barely stand it. “Actually, maybe I’ll swing by and check on you. Since you’re so sick.”

Panic flared in my chest, but I doubted she would do anything that would require actual effort on her part or would be misconstrued as actual concern. “That’s so sweet. If you could bring a couple of things when you come, I’d really appreciate it.” It was a ballsy move, one that could easily blow up in my face, but I was betting on her indifference about the real state of my health.

“What was that? You’re breaking up. Feel better soon!”

The line went dead and I slipped my phone back in my purse, ready to apologize profusely to the rental clerk for holding her up.

“My manager’s a pain in the ass too,” she shared empathetically, waving away any need to apologize. “Let’s get you squared away.”

The rest of the process went off without a hitch. She even upgraded me from Economy to Full-Size for free. It was going the extra mile, kindness for the sake of being kind, and I almost hugged her neck because of it. Since I left The Tower last night, things had gone to Hell in a wastebasket. I’d left my shift at The Red Room without any further catastrophe or trays dropping. In fact, after I told Jackson to meet me at The Tower after work, my feet never touched the ground. I’m pretty sure I even smiled, really smiled, a couple of times.

While all the companions on staff were thoroughly scanned (along with the clients) and offering their services of their own free will, there was still the need to be discreet and cautious. I felt like some secret agent in my black trench coat and cocktail dress, like I was headed to a gala with some dignitary. Before Jackson, that thrill only lasted until I stepped into the plush bedroom and remembered the only intrigue was that I was a highly paid prostitute and men that were swimming in money had purchased me for a few hours.

There was something more with Jackson. A heat in his gaze, in his touch that was more than our bodies. More than lust. Lust hung in The Red Room like oxygen. Vital and inescapable and ripe for the taking. If he just wanted sex, there was an endless supply of women who would be happy to oblige.

For some reason, he wanted
me
.

That’s what I held onto as I showered and moisturized from head to toe, picking lingerie that was just as naughty as it was nice. I even replicated his gross bourbon drink from the club.

I’d expected him to burst through the door, forgetting all about the drink and everything except-

I shoved my key in the ignition, ignoring the whisper in my head that said it was on me for taking sex and reading something more into it. We knew how to do the bumping and grinding. We knew how to do that
very
well. It was the rest that made things awkward. So unbearable that he couldn’t wait to leave.

I was burning up despite the AC screaming from the vents at full blast. The things he could do with his voice alone. The way his fingertips could simultaneously caress and punish did things to me. Just the mere thought of him had me twitching as I pointed the rental car toward the exit. None of that mattered, because the best sex in the world wasn’t worth him treating me like he’d forgotten me completely the moment he filled the condom.

Before I could stop the words, I’d told him it was done. Whatever this, it, was. From his shrug and silent departure, it was clear I’d been wrong. Nothing was here, after all.

I managed to leave the building with my pride, without a single tear falling. I’d take the money and chip away at the debt and the next time I was tempted to turn
Pretty Woman
into my own personal fairytale, I’d remember the hollow feeling that Jackson Colt left me with.

Like the universe knew I was hanging on by the tiniest thread, they had the scissors at the ready. I was just a snip away from losing it altogether when my mother started lighting up my cell phone earlier.

2:03 AM: (Colleen McLeod) - 911! Call me when u get a minute

2:13 AM: (Colleen McLeod) -  Did u get my text

2:16 AM: (Colleen McLeod) - U know I wouldn't ask if it wasn’t an emergency

I yanked my shades from my purse and shielded my eyes. I didn’t want the sun. Or brightness. Not when I was headed back to the home I couldn’t wait to escape. A home I would have written off completely, never to visit again, if it wasn’t for Rose and my insistence on helping my mother clean up her messes.

The texts I got from Rose were the ones that got me on the road.

9:00 AM: (Rose) - I know you’re busy but Mom said she texted you and didn’t hear back?

9:03 AM: (Me) - Hey sis. Shouldn’t u b in class?

I kept the thread open, watching the notification that she was typing something linger and disappear several times, like she was contemplating just how much to tell me.

9:15 AM: (Rose) - Mom made me stay home today

That got my full attention. It was just like my mother, to get Rose to reach out to me because that was easier than just coming clean herself. I’d learned a long time ago that while her personal life was constantly in shambles, my mother’s emergencies were often of the cosmetic variety. I had to force myself not to take her too seriously. But when it came to my sister, I’d always overreact. It was the least I could do since I couldn’t do what I truly wanted, which was to save her from our mother altogether.

It could be a real emergency, like the one that made me take a leave of absence and work full-time, or the woman could have lost the remote or ran out of booze and she was calling me home to go grocery shopping. With Rose in the middle, I’d drop everything, and my mother knew it.

I turned up the radio and tried to distract myself with lyrics about living it up and champagne and all the things that pop culture seemed infatuated with these days. What pop stars and famous faces would I find if I Googled Jackson Colt?

“And that’s enough radio for me,” I grumbled, deciding I was better off with silence. Even if I had half an hour to go. If only I could silence the voices in my head.

Had I inherited my mother’s bad taste in men? I’d spent so many years navigating her crappy love life that I had no time nor interest in building my own. There had been dates of course. Things here and there on campus. My roommates used to call me Frozen, and it wasn’t because I loved singing “Let it Go.” They’d pine and make their guys Facebook official as soon as they could swing it, then they’d cry and lament when things went south. In my world, no guy lasted long enough to make it official on social media. I didn’t let anyone stick around and make themselves comfortable. I used them, then discarded them, before they could use and discard me.

Just like Jackson used you.

Just like he threw you away.

The tears I didn’t cry last night, of frustration, of loneliness, filled my eyes. Blurred my view. The similarities between me and the guy I told to fuck off couldn’t be more clear. My scars ran deep; I carried them with me. I saw them every time I looked in the mirror. What were his scars? Who hurt him so deeply that fate tossed us together? Who broke his heart so deeply that booking it as far away from me as possible was preferable to having a conversation?

A tear sliced down my cheek. I didn’t know. I wouldn’t get to know.

I swiped my hands over my face and sat up straight.
Forward. Put the billionaire that piqued your interest behind you and focus on your endgame. Life after the debt is paid, Rose settled at Yale, and you can close the door on your mother, able to honestly say you tried your best.

I should have been hit by the vast, seemingly endless ways my mother disappointed me, but there was only bitterness. ‘Mom.’ When was the last time I’d called her that without sarcasm? Without it being a silent plea to put away the cabernet, shut off the TV, and notice me? Notice Rose?

When the tears wouldn’t stop, I turned the radio back on. I could weather tales of broken romance. I could even take bragging about a lifestyle I’d never lead and had only glimpsed from afar, when I was killing myself just to survive. I couldn’t take my mother. She was the one person I should be able to turn to and count on, but she couldn’t get outside of herself. She was willfully blind to the desolation she left in her wake.

The city fell away and the distance between the woman I was trying to be and the girl I was running away from shrank. Over the bridge, the buildings didn't kiss the sky. The roads stretched their limbs since the congestion was in the rear view mirror. Taxis and luxury cars were traded for rimless sedans and minivans. The city was made for the screen, with the bustle and the smells and the business suits. This was home, where everything moved a little slower and the people didn't have time for glitz and glamour. They were just waking up so they could work hard and get back to their families, so they could go to sleep and do it all over again.