S*x and Secrets: Alpha Billionaire Forbidden Romance (12 page)

Idiot. The first time you tell her it has to be in the back of a car? Classy. Real classy, dude.

She stilled under me.

“Wh . . . what did you say?”

Now it was out, I didn’t want to take it back because I meant it.

“You heard me, baby. I fucking love you.”

Her eyes were wide and her mouth formed an
O
.

If I didn’t still have her pinned down with my dick, I swore she’d get up and run.

Fuck. Why couldn’t I just keep my big mouth shut? Now I’d ruined everything because I’d fallen for her. The word
love
was never supposed to slip off my tongue. Any other four letter words were fine—just
not
the L word.  

D
anger signals went off in my brain. The one man on the planet I’d never expected to hear the words from had just told me he loved me.

Loved me.

Loved. Me.

“Levi,” I breathed, unable to say anything else.

“I’m sorry. I know this isn’t the time or the place, but I couldn’t help it. The words just burst out; I couldn’t control them.”

I stared up at him, still not believing what had just happened. He pulled out of me slowly, a sheepish grin on his handsome face.

Oh, Levi. Why did you have to ruin it all? 

My heart ached, as if he’d just taken a sword and speared it through the center of my being.

“You promised. Fuck buddies only. No emotions. No strings attached.” I sat upright and did up the buttons of my shirt with trembling fingers. In an instant, everything had changed.

“Baby, surely you’ve known for a while how I feel about you. We have a connection you can’t deny. I just said out loud what’s been there for some time.” The alarm on his face squeezed my heart until I thought I’d pass out.

A million thoughts raced through my mind. I grabbed my skirt from the front seat and slipped it on to cover my nakedness. It took all my concentration just to get dressed.

“Please take me back to my office.” My voice was barely above a whisper.

“Montana—”

I didn’t know how to deal with this revelation. I didn’t know what to think, never mind what to say to him. My safe little world had just come crashing down.

“Now, Levi, please. And no more talking.” I fixed my hair and wiped over my lips. There wasn’t a trace of lipstick left after the way he’d kissed me.  I was a fucking mess and it wasn’t just my appearance. My pounding heart beat in my throat and my throbbing temples sent waves of pain through my head.

Shock flickered over Levi’s face for a split second before he got it together and zipped himself up, all without saying a word.

Levi got in the front and started the engine. I stayed in the back, rubbing my temples and staring out of the window with unseeing eyes because they were brimming with the tears I fought back.

I made a snap decision. I had to end our arrangement. It was time to rip up the agreement and go solo again. Nothing good could come of this.

Oh God, how am I going to survive?
Life without Levi, without my fuck buddy, was going to
kill
me.

He pulled up outside the office building, too rattled to care if anyone saw us.

Leaning forward so that I was closer to him, I spoke softly. “It’s over Levi. Our arrangement is finished. I’m sorry.”

I jerked the door open and stepped out onto the busy sidewalk, clutching my purse under my arm as if my life depended on it, and squinting my eyes against the bright light. I quickly shoved my sunglasses onto my face and stepped into the road in front of a taxi, waving it down.

Thank God it stopped before it hit me.

The driver wound his window down. “Are you crazy, lady?” he yelled.

“Take me home. Please just take me home,” I begged, tears streaming down my cheeks.

“Oh . . . okay,” was all the cabby managed to say. Tears undid most men, and this one was no different.

Once I’d slid into the back seat and told him my address, I let it rip. I sobbed as if someone had just died. Why did all good things have to end? Why had Levi spoken about
love
? It was the one word—
one
word—he was never supposed to say.

Love
.

“You okay, lady?” The cabbie looked at me in the rear-view mirror.

“No. No, I’m not okay. The best thing that’s ever happened to me has just ended.”

“Oh,” he said, a sad look on his face.

O
nce safely inside my apartment, I drew the bedroom curtains and stripped down my clothes only to realize that Levi still had my panties in his pocket.

Oh well, he could keep them as something to remember me by. No way in hell was I asking for them back. Besides, I’d never be able to wear them again without thinking back to that pivotal moment.

The moment he broke his promise.

The moment I never saw coming.

The moment he said
the word
to end it all.

Pulling back the covers, I settled onto the cool sheets. I hadn’t taken an afternoon nap since I was a kid unless I was sick, and even then it had only been half a dozen times. But that day I really needed the extra sleep. Months and years of sleep deficiency had finally caught up to me.

More than that, I wanted to drown the voices in my head. Sleep would take me away from the pain twisting my heart. Because that moment when he’d told me was so much more. It was the moment I’d realized I loved him too.

How could I be angry at Levi when my own heart had let me down?

I had broken my promise to him, but also the promise to myself and my mother.

I’ll never be a fool to fall in love. I promise, Mamma.

And now I’d broken my word and shattered my world.

My body sank into the matrass, heavy and exhausted, on the brink of burn-out. My mind closed down and I drifted into a deep, deep sleep.

Nirvana.

*****

H
ours later, the constant ringing of my phone penetrated through the haze and pulled me from the peace I’d found in oblivion. I cracked one eye open and saw Jake Monroe’s name on the screen.

I let it go straight to voicemail.

Seconds later, a text buzzed through with the address of the restaurant. Damn. My hopes that he wanted to cancel went up in smoke.

It was six fifty-five, and I had another half hour until I had to face him. Was this going to be the day my whole life came crashing down?

I dragged myself to the shower and stood under the stream of warm water, letting it wash my weariness away. I needed to be sharp when I faced off with Jake; I daren’t let my guard slip for one second.

Aware that I was in danger of running late, as soon as I stepped out of the shower, I grabbed my phone to check the time again. It was only then I noticed the seven messages, all from Levi over the course of the afternoon while I’d been asleep.

1.23 P.M
: I’m sorry I fucked up.

1.35 P.M:
Please forgive me.

2.18 P.M:
Can I take my words back?

3.30 P.M:
It’s only words. If you want, I’ll never say them again.

4.05 P.M:
It changes nothing between us.

4.11 P.M:
Please tell me you’re okay?

5.45 P.M:
I guess you meant it and it’s over.

Tears welled up, and I swallowed hard to stop the avalanche sitting in the back of my throat. If I gave in to self-pity now, I’d cry for days on end.

*****

T
wenty minutes later, I hopped into the back of another taxi and gave the cabbie the name and address of the place I was meeting Jake.

“You’re one of the lucky ones, miss. I heard you have to book months in advance to get in and only the chosen few get to have dinner there.”

I’d trade places with him any time. He could look at the false smile that Jake plastered on his face, or listen to the overly modulated words that came out of his mouth, or have his nostrils assaulted by the heavy-handed use of my date’s cologne.

Damn, I’d
pay
the cabbie to trade places with me.

Instead, I paid him his fare as well as a handsome tip. It wasn’t his fault that I had the fear of impending doom sitting in the pit of my stomach.

As soon as I got inside, someone was there to greet me and show me to my table. It was on the upper level in the most exclusive area, right next to a window with stunning views over the Hudson River.

Although I was exactly on time, my host hadn’t arrived yet. Not that I was surprised, because I was certain Jake spent more time in front of a mirror than I did. Not to mention his perfectly styled hair, that unless he had a personal stylist and used a shitload of styling products, would be difficult to maintain.

I took the opportunity to look around at the other tables. Besides the few celebrities I spotted, most tables were occupied by couples who were either holding hands, staring into one another’s eyes, or openly flirting.

Goddammit. Couldn’t I just have an evening without being reminded of the pain that had anchored itself in my chest?

Taking small sips of water from the oversized glass in front of me, I studied the couples one by one, trying to guess who were on a first date and who I thought had the best sexual chemistry. How many of these people had told one another ‘I love you’? Three precious words most women yearned to hear.

Watching them I couldn’t help wondering what it would be like to have a normal relationship. No hiding. No secret meetings. No angst about getting caught out. I guessed I’d never find out.

My pity party was interrupted by the maître d' making his way toward my table with Jake in tow. He made quite an entrance, smiling at everyone, sometimes stopping to give someone a hug or exchange a few words.

“You should be in Hollywood,” I said in a frosty tone as he reached our table and leaned down to kiss my cheek.

He ignored my statement. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

Liar.

With a lot of pomp and very little flair, Jake ordered a three-hundred-dollar bottle of champagne. If he was trying to impress me, he could’ve saved himself the trouble. Not only had I been to the region of France where the exclusive sparkling wine was produced, I’d actually been a guest at the winery and been treated to a tour, and of course as many tastings as I could handle.

“So,” I said testily as soon as the waiter departed from our table, “what do you want to tell me that you couldn’t say over the phone?”

“Relax, Monty, and enjoy the evening. The night is still young, so let’s not rush this, okay?”

Monty?
Where the hell had that come from?

I grimaced and gave him a dirty look. “Um, my name is Montana.”

“I know, Miss Marx. Has anyone told you that you’re gorgeous when your nostrils flare and your eyes shoot daggers?”

I shrugged and took a sip of the bubbly liquid.

Every now and then I imagined Jake’s accent sounding quite British, which was weird for an all-American guy. The reason I recognized the foreign accent was that I’d been at school with a girl who’d come from England with her family and whenever I’d visited her house, I’d loved listening to her parents and siblings talk. They’d sounded so
posh
—a word her mother liked using often—especially to a girl who’d only ever heard a Southern accent.

Jacqueline herself had been quite strange. She’d smoked, hadn’t shaved her armpits, and changed her accent immediately to sound American, denouncing her birth country openly. She’d been quite masculine in her dress code, favoring men’s brogue shoes above all others because she’d claimed they were more comfortable. I’d heard whispers about her liking girls more than boys, but I’d just figured people didn’t understand her because she was so different from what they were used to.

Our friendship hadn’t lasted long, and I’d stopped going to their house. I’d never told anyone why we weren’t friends anymore because soon after my world came crashing down and we’d moved to a neighboring town where I attended a different school.

Jake snapped his fingers in front of my face. “Hey you. Seems I lost you there for a few moments. You haven’t heard I word I said, have you?”

“Oh, sorry, I’m just exhausted, I didn’t mean to be rude. What were you saying?” I straightened my back and gave Jake a small smile. This ‘date’ was torture, and I just wanted to go home already. Jake was taking me back to places I didn’t want to go. How strange that I’d not had flashbacks for more than a year and now they plagued me at the most unexpected times.

“Never mind. I was blabbering on about the south of France. I’m going there on my next vacation, rubbing shoulders with the rich and famous in Nice, and I’ll be on the red carpet at the Cannes Film Festival.”

“Oh, that’s lovely for you,” I said, with as much enthusiasm as I could muster.

“I’m a little obsessed with France. I’ve taken French language and cooking lessons, and I love their music, too.”

“Really? I had a friend at school who collected anything she could about the French. Her whole bedroom was filled with pictures of Paris, and her idol was Coco Chanel.” I didn’t know why I shared that with Jake; maybe because I was at a total loss about making small talk with this self-absorbed man.

“I’m impressed you remember that much detail about a school friend. Did you like her?”

I shrugged. “Yeah. I didn’t know her that well, but she was different to anyone else. We had to move away to another town, and we did keep in touch for a while, but then I lost track of her.”

I hated where this conversation was going. Soon Jake would be asking more probing questions. I quickly changed it so the focus was back on him.

Being a good listener was my best skill, and one I’d learned early in life—people loved talking about themselves and if given half a chance, most would tell you their life story. “So tell me more about your French obsession.”

Jake didn’t disappoint. Throughout the entire first course he talked about his cooking skills. Funny—I’d never pegged him for a domesticated kind of guy. I’d imagined that he was far too fashion-conscious and precious to ever get his hands dirty in the kitchen.