A Bona Fide Gold Digger (16 page)

M
ilan rang Gerard’s doorbell several times but he didn’t answer. The sight of his truck parked in front of his house was comforting. At least he was home, not miles away stuck in traffic. It wasn’t as cold as the day before and she didn’t mind waiting outside, so she went back to her car and sat. Patiently, she applied mascara and lip gloss and fussed with her hair. Forty minutes later, Gerard opened the front door. Any lingering doubt that she was prepared to do anything he demanded quickly faded the moment she saw his face. He was the picture of masculine perfection. She immediately felt a sense of overwhelming gratitude at being given a second chance.

On some level, she realized that her feelings for Gerard went beyond a passing interest. She had willingly crossed a threshold and embraced a new lifestyle. It was such a contradiction of her personality for strong-willed and feisty Milan Walden to allow Gerard to subdue her. But there was no denying that obeying Gerard and submitting to his will aroused her, making her pussy throb with expectancy.

The visual she’d held in her mind for the past few days did not do Gerard justice. In person, she was reminded that he was unnaturally handsome, without flaw. Gerard wore sweats and flaunted his biceps in a sleeveless T-shirt. His feet, exposed in a pair of black Armani flip-flops, were smooth and manicured. His shaved head was shaped perfectly. Milan felt warmed by his magnificent presence.

Instead of going down to the basement, Gerard motioned for Milan to take a seat in the living room. It was toasty and warm inside, but he didn’t offer to take her coat. Though she wore cashmere-lined leather gloves and had a wool scarf draped loosely around her neck, she didn’t dare remove any article of outerwear or even unbutton her coat without Gerard’s explicit permission.

He sat in a chair that faced her and folded his hands. “I asked you if you understood the nature of our relationship. You told me that you did. I don’t happen to believe that you do.”

She didn’t protest. She was silent, waiting for Gerard to continue.

“I can sculpt an ordinary body into a work of art.”

Milan felt let down, but she didn’t show her disappointment. She didn’t really care about a sculpted body. She only cared about being with Gerard.

Gerard looked at her intently. “I get the impression you’re not committed to improving your body.”

Milan’s face flushed.
Damn, I’m busted
.

“And that’s too bad,” he said, shaking his head. “To me, you’re a piece of clay that could be shaped and molded into the perfect woman—my perfect mate.”

Perfect mate!
Now, he had Milan’s undivided attention. Her eyes, filled with adoration, focused on Gerard’s face.

“I’m glad I tore up the contract you signed,” he said, nodding his head as if ripping up Milan’s contract was the best idea he’d had in quite a while.

Milan’s heart dropped. “I thought you were preparing a new contract?”

“I didn’t get around to it. Glad I didn’t waste your time or mine.”

Unable to bear being dismissed again, she stared at him in dismay. Then she started talking fast. “I’ll be honest with you—I was at the gym looking for a trainer, then for no reason that I can explain, I just changed my mind.” Milan conveniently withheld all information concerning her pending nuptials. “When I saw you…” Abruptly, her words halted. She dropped her gaze and focused on her hands, which were folded in her lap. “I felt an immediate and profound attraction,” she admitted. “Gerard,” she said softly, “I’ve never experienced the kinds of thoughts that I have about you.”

“What kind of thoughts?” he asked.

She forced herself to look at him. “Sexual thoughts. I think about you and me—us—constantly. My fantasies are so bizarre…” Milan paused, shaking her head. “I’m starting to wonder about my sanity. The freakish thoughts that run through my mind wouldn’t be considered normal.”

Milan’s admission did not prompt Gerard’s eyes to grow large and lustful; he didn’t give her a sly smile or throw her down to the floor to ravish her body; instead, he asked with an impassive expression, “What do you imagine, Milan?”

She silently scanned her mind for an answer that would tantalize Gerard and keep him interested. “I don’t care about myself,” she blurted, shocked by her admission. Since when didn’t she care about herself? Was that a true statement? With no time to analyze her own sick psyche, Milan forged ahead. Uncensored and unrestricted words spilled from her lips. “I want to fulfill all your sexual desires.”

“Where exactly is this going?” He checked his watch impatiently. “Could you be more specific?” he said, obviously unimpressed.

Her stomach tightened. Gerard’s lack of enthusiasm made her nervous. Fearing he’d soon become annoyed and send her home, she spoke quickly, “I see myself being controlled by you. Being forced to do any freaky thing you want me to do.”

“Milan,” he said, with laughter. “I’m not that guy. You have me all wrong. What makes you think I’d enjoy
forcing
you to do anything?” He gave her an indulgent look. “Take the other day for example. Did I force you to get down on your knees? Did I give you any indication that I was trying to do anything other than help you improve your body?”

Yes! You certainly did give me the impression that you wanted me down on my knees!
Milan wanted to protest loudly, but instead, she said in a voice thin with worry, “No, you didn’t force me to do anything.”

“Then why’d you drop down and try to give me head?” he asked calmly.

She had to force her mouth to stay shut. What kind of game was Gerard playing? He’d pressed her face into his crotch, taunting her with the possibility of giving him head and then he’d pulled her to her feet. Squirming miserably, she felt she had no choice but to go along with Gerard’s game. “I couldn’t help myself,” she said with a shrug. “If you would have allowed it, I would have done a lot more,” Milan confessed.

Gerard nodded in thought. “I want you to know…,” he said, briefly pausing to make eye contact, “I enjoyed our moment.”

Elated by his admission, she wanted to flash a cheesy grin, but she restrained herself, kept her face straight and continued to conduct herself in a serious manner.

“You made me feel good by willingly expressing your feelings with me. I don’t want to force you into anything. Dominating you by force would not be pleasing,” Gerard said. “Understand?”

She wasn’t sure if she understood, but nodded anyway. “I’m sorry,” she said, sounding contrite. “Words can’t adequately express what I’m feeling. These emotions are so new. I’m confused.”

“I need you to articulate your feelings. I want to have a clearer understanding.”

Why was he making her squirm? How much clearer could she be? Didn’t he get it? She wanted him to take control. To own her. Milan swallowed nervously. “When I’m near you, close to you like this, I get a rush. It’s more than sexual. The need to touch you is so powerful…when you deny me, when you won’t let me see you, it makes me cry.” Her voice caught. Pouring her heart out was embarrassing. Yet at the same time, she was intensely aroused by the extreme humiliation. “Gerard, would you please give me another chance?” she asked, humbling herself further. Though it was mind-boggling, she was unable to stop herself from begging. She was asking for another opportunity to touch him. To suck his dick. There was little doubt that she’d lost her mind. But she didn’t care. In this moment, the only thing that mattered was coming up with creative ways to serve him.

“Let me show you how devoted I can be,” Milan told him.

Standing with his arms folded, Gerard’s eyes challenged her. “Show me,” he said in a low tone.

Still fully clad in her coat and scarf, she slid off the sofa and sank to the floor and groveled at his feet. Her lips brushed the top of his bare foot, hesitantly at first, and then with much ardor. Filled with waves of unbridled passion, she urgently kissed each foot. She licked the sides of his feet, her tongue slipping in and out, caressing the space between his toes.

Accepting her desire to worship him, Gerard bent and patted the top of Milan’s head.

Had she not been jolted by the peal of the doorbell, Milan would have bathed his feet with her tongue. Gerard looked at the door and glanced down at Milan. “Don’t answer it. Please!” she begged him. Her parted lips were eager to journey upward from his feet.

But he slowly withdrew his foot. Milan moaned. It was a soft strangled sound. Again, the feelings of humiliation and rejection were oddly stimulating. Milan was past the point of ordinary arousal. Her panties were drenched, and painful daggers of desire shot straight into her pussy, making her clench up and emit soft cries of acute yearning.

“I’m expecting one of my advanced students. I didn’t take your coat because I knew you wouldn’t be staying very long. I’m sorry, you’re going to have to leave, Milan.”

Milan wanted to cry from disappointment.

Gerard reached for her hand and helped pull her up. Though he was kicking her out, the tenderness in his eyes made it a little less painful.

“When can I see you again?” she wondered aloud.

“In a few days. I’ll call you.” Before opening the door, his eyes swept over her. “In the future, don’t wear any makeup or fancy clothing or hairstyles. I want to see you in your natural state. I want to see who you really are.”

He opened the door, welcoming in the same Asian woman Milan had seen the other day. The woman was breathtaking. She didn’t wear much makeup, just eyeliner to accentuate her slanted dark eyes. She was a natural beauty—the kind of woman Milan instantly despised. This time she wore an expensive-looking, white, waist-length, down-filled jacket with a fur-trimmed hood that shouted money. Her clingy workout wear showed off a to-die-for body. As if being a ravishing beauty with a great body weren’t enough, the woman had the nerve to be rich.

“Milan, this is Ming. Ming, Milan,” Gerard said, introducing the two women.

Besieged with envy, Milan forced a smile. “Nice to meet you.”

“And you.” Ming extended her hand. The gesture seemed condescending. Though the day would come when Milan would be rich too, until Noah’s money was transferred over to her, she was still just ordinary.

The amounts of money Noah doled out were too inconsistent to make a difference in her current financial status. Since they’d agreed to wed, he no longer paid for her sexual favors. The money she’d managed to squirrel away would have to tide her over until her dying fiancé finally gave up the ghost.

In the meantime, the promise of his entire estate was supposed to be a comfort, like having money in the bank that you couldn’t touch for eons. Feeling terribly impoverished, Milan gave Ming a quick, self-conscious, glove-covered handshake. She noticed a big gleaming diamond ring and a platinum wedding band on Ming’s other hand. She was married. Good!

“I’ll call you,” Gerard repeated, opening the door wider.

Kicked out into the cold and feeling dazed, Milan took unsteady steps to her car.

M
ilan stood motionless, shocked at finding Noah sitting in the dining room. He sipped his disgusting soup while Irma flitted around him, her chubby body moving with amazing swiftness as she reattached the Velcro-strap of his awful terry-cloth bib that had come undone. She reached over to smooth out the front of the bib, her doting gestures making it clear that her loyalty lay with Noah Brockington. The cook was sucking up so flagrantly, it wouldn’t have surprised Milan if the woman had the sudden notion to hand-feed her wealthy employer.

Milan detected a healthy color in Noah’s cheeks, which she found displeasing. Gazing at him suspiciously, she also noticed with much annoyance that he seemed to have put on some weight. What was Irma putting in his soup? Probably the same weight-enhancing substance that she’d used to lace Milan’s nutritious meals. Did this burst of sudden well-being have anything to do with Noah’s desire to produce healthy sperm? Milan winced at the thought.

Noah lifted a spoonful of the chunky milk-colored concoction to his mouth. Irma hovered nearby, her lips puckered as if prepared to blow and cool off the chowder with her own breath.

“Noah, what are you doing downstairs?” Milan said tersely. “There’s a draft down here. Where’s the nurse?” She shot an accusatory look at Irma. “We need to get him back in bed. He’s much too ill to—”

“It was his idea,” Irma said, sounding defensive. “After he got that phone call, he perked up and wanted to come downstairs.”

“What phone call?” Milan asked Irma. She hoped Greer hadn’t telephoned and put ideas in Noah’s head.

“Don’t chastise Irma,” Noah interjected. “As she said, it was my idea. And by the way…where have you been, my dear?” He took a loud sip of soup. “Your comings and goings are becoming rather frequent. Do you have a secret lover, my dear?” Noah asked with a taunting glint in his eyes.

Noah’s question, a ringing accusation, put the room on pause. Irma stopped fussing over him; she folded her arms, squared her shoulders and waited for Milan’s comeback.

Milan was momentarily stumped. But not for long. Fast on her feet, she rapidly assembled believable explanations. “I’ve been looking for a nutritionist and a trainer. I need to be in the best shape of my life to carry and deliver a healthy baby.” She cut an eye at Irma. “Oh, you didn’t know, did you? Noah and I are going to be parents.” Milan faked a big smile.

“Umph,” Irma grunted, obviously displeased.

“I found a personal trainer. But I’m still interviewing nutritionists,” Milan said and then turned her attention to Irma. “No offense to your lack of good nutritional information and low-level culinary skills, but during my research I discovered that certain fruits and vegetables were discovered to have extremely high levels of pesticides—even after they’ve been washed.” She paused, noticing both Noah and Irma hanging on to her words. “I’m switching to an all-organic diet and it would be wise for Noah to consider doing the same.”

Milan returned her attention to Noah. “A good nutritionist could create a more appealing and much healthier meal plan than Irma can come up with. And, darling, a healthy diet promotes abundant and healthy sperm,” Milan informed her fiancé with a broad smile. Noah looked impressed and Milan sighed in relief. She had to give herself a “thata-girl” pat on the back. Milan always came out of any corner she was backed into, swinging wildly.

“I do feel a bit of a draft,” Noah finally concurred with a shiver.

“What were you thinking, Irma? How could you allow him to sit downstairs without a sweater?” Milan chastised. “Come on, darling, let’s get you back upstairs.” Milan made the motions of helping her fiancé out of his seat, and then hissed at Irma, “Get that nurse in here!” Irma scurried away.

Moments later, Ruth Henry rushed into the dining room. “I’m sorry, Ms. Walden. I wouldn’t have left him if Irma hadn’t told me it was all right.” Intending to exercise her newfound clout, Milan whipped around to verbally reprimand Irma, but the worthless cook was conveniently out of Milan’s eyesight. Milan could hear her rattling pans in the kitchen. Milan sucked her teeth in exasperation.

As the nurse escorted Noah up the wide staircase, he turned and looked over his shoulder at his fiancée. “My dear, if it’s not too much trouble, would you pay me a visit?”

Off the hook of having to soothe her patient, Ruth Henry smiled adoringly as if Noah had just said the cutest thing. “I’ll help him out of his pajama bottoms,” the nurse offered, her voice lowered to a confidential whisper.

Milan rolled her eyes. She felt like backhanding Noah. If he knew what was good for him, he’d drop dead soon after they tied the knot. Lingering around too long might not be a wise decision because she couldn’t promise that elder abuse was beneath her.

She didn’t know what Noah wanted, however, anal play was out of the question. She’d passed that assignment onto the nurse. Dressed in little girls’ attire, she joined him in his bedroom.

“What a pleasant surprise. It’s been ages since I last saw you. Have you been busy with your studies, little girl?” he addressed Milan.

“Yes,” she replied in a childlike voice, despising herself for having to play along. But competing with that rich Asian bitch was going to be expensive. If she was going to outshine the heifer, she needed Noah’s money more than ever.

Noah sat up straighter and narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Have you been keeping up with your studies?”

With her mind on Gerard, Milan didn’t know what Noah had just asked her. Genuinely perplexed, she shrugged her shoulders.

“And what kind of response is that?” Noah asked sternly. “Give me a straight answer.”

“I don’t know.”

“No!”

She ventured a guess. “Um…No.”

“And what has taken precedence over your studies? Boys?”

Before Milan could come up with an answer, Noah pointed to the nightstand. “Get the paddle. You’ve been a very naughty little girl.”

Up until that point, Milan had been distracted. But now, facing a paddling, she was suddenly alert and unafraid.

Quite willingly, she retrieved the leather paddle and gave it to Noah. Obediently, she lifted her skirt, bent over, and exposed her bottom. Noah struck her, but of course, he was much too weak to cause her any pain, and his light flogging distracted her; relieved her from having to interact with him. With her back to him, she didn’t even have to look at him. She was able to let her imagination run wild.
“Gerard,”
she whispered with each soft blow, pretending that it was her trainer who lovingly whipped her ass.