Covet: Trusting the Billionaire (The Trophy Wife Book 4) (3 page)

We silently stare at each other for a while. There is a thick sexual tension between us. I feel that if there weren’t any people around, Julian would grab me and fuck me hard against the bar right now.

I continue to hold my eyes steady on his face. I’m essentially flirting with him, which I never did when I first met him.
This actually feels good.
It is the typical, normal way most men and women meet at a bar or club.

Julian’s lips tighten and his jaw clenches as he scans my face. I’m enjoying how my flirtatious attitude is affecting him. I never flirt, but I’m so turned on that it feels natural.

“What do I need to know about you?” Julian asks abruptly, breaking free from the spell I’m trying to cast on him.

Suddenly, I feel light-headed and have to hold onto the side of the bar.

“Are you okay?” he asks, concerned.

“I’m so dizzy,” I mumble.

He grabs hold of my waist and lets me lean against his chest.

“I’ll take care of you,” he whispers into my ear. “You’re a cheap drunk, aren’t you?”

He doesn’t wait for a response. He gets behind me and leads me through the crowd toward the exit. I’m stumbling and I know I wouldn’t be able to walk straight without Julian’s support.

“I’m taking you home with me,” he says in an authoritative tone.

When we get outside, a nice, cool breeze blows across my face. The valet brings the Agera R, and Julian opens the door for me.

Once I’m inside the car, my vision blurs. Julian slides into the driver’s seat and starts the car.

“I told you.” He smirks.

“Told me what?” I slur.

“You spoke too soon.”

I feel the alcohol work its way throughout my entire system. I ease into my leather seat as we speed down the road.

CHAPTER THREE

I open my eyes when I feel the car stop. I blink several times, forcing my blurred vision to focus. I feel Julian grab me from my seat, cradle-lift me into his arms, and carry me. My eyelids feel heavy and I close them. I’m like a rag doll in Julian’s arms.

When I open my eyes, Julian is naked and on top of me, sucking on my nipple. We’re laying on the four-poster king-sized bed in the “rape room.”

“I’m going to fuck you hard,” Julian whispers.

“No,” I slur, clumsily pushing against his chest in my drunken state.

“Shhh,” he whispers. He spreads my legs and gets between them. I feel a sharp stab as he enters me. His heavy balls smack loudly against my ass as he begins thrusting.

“You feel so good,” Julian growls low.

He grabs both my ankles and spreads my legs wider as he drives himself deeper inside me. He is moving his muscular body on top of me. He sets a fierce, fast pace, hips smacking hard against mine.

A scream escapes my lips as Julian’s cock gets harder and imbeds deeper inside me. He moves slightly forward as he thrusts hard and rubs against my c-spot while also hitting my g-spot.

Julian picks up the pace and I feel a blended orgasm coming on. He already knows what he’s doing to me—he’s a master of my body.

I feel the warmth of his seed explode deep inside my belly. That’s what sets off my blended orgasm, and my brain screams with out-of-this-world pleasure.

Julian jolts on top of me, groaning as he milks the entire contents of his balls within me as though his life depended on it. He exhales sharply as he finishes extracting his seed into me.

“That was incredible,” Julian growls.

He withdraws his cock and I feel empty. He rolls onto his back beside me. I’m feeling very satisfied, the most tranquil I’ve felt in my life.

Julian pulls me onto his chest and I fall asleep wrapped in his thick, muscular arms.

In the morning, Julian’s warm kisses on my forehead awake me. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m so sore,” I murmur and turn onto my side to face him. We are both laying on our sides, gazing lovingly at each other.

“Did you enjoy yourself?” he asks in a sexy, deep, morning voice.

“I had fun,” I respond. “I’d like to try it again.”

“Glad you liked it,” Julian murmurs.

We spend the entire day together, and I cherish every minute. Tomorrow is the start of a new week, and I won’t see as much of Julian as I would like until the coming weekend.

After a hearty breakfast, we play with our son in the living room while the two Dobermans lie close by and watch us.

“I’d love to do an oil painting of our son,” I mention.

“If he could stay still.” Julian chuckles. “Maybe in the future. But for now, if you want, you can paint my portrait.”

“I’d love that,” I say radiantly.

“How about today?” Julian suggests.

I spend the afternoon painting Julian’s face with as much detail as I can while Julian sits still in a chair and looks out the nearest window of my art room.

Once it’s completed, Julian examines my painting quietly for a few minutes.

“What do you think?” I nudge.

“Absolutely perfect,” he responds. “You have so much talent.”

Julian hangs his portrait in the hallway right outside our bedroom.

On Monday morning, Julian and I have breakfast together. Julian heads up to his home office while I prepare a coffee for him just the way he likes it—strong and black, with nothing added to it.

When I reach his office, I knock on the door.

“Yes, Cheryl, enter,” Julian calls out.

Julian is seated at his desk in front of his computer. I set the coffee on his desk while he finishes typing what looks to be an email.

Julian turns his attention to me. “Only you are allowed to enter my home office. I never let any of the staff come into the office. I keep confidential and important business files stored here. If the staff needs to contact me, they video call me.”

He raises his eyebrow and grins. “And since only you are allowed to enter my private home office, I’d like to give you a small but highly important responsibility. I’d like you to bring my company mail to the office every day. The mail will be addressed to one of my two companies: The Stone Group LLC or Stone Investments, Inc. Any other mail addressed to me you can leave on the kitchen island for me to look through later.”

I quickly recall all my routine responsibilities, which include taking care of the baby, making Julian happy in bed, and sorting through the mail. It is fairly simple and straightforward because I assume Julian wants me to focus all my attention and energy on him and the baby. He has a full-time staff of fifteen people doing the meaner household chores.

Any reason to see Julian throughout his busy workday, even for a minute or two, is a highlight. Every time I see my husband, my heart flutters, and I know I will continue to feel like this twenty years from now, even thirty or forty years from now—pretty much as long as we’re together.

Throughout the next few months, Julian and I get into a busy daily routine of work and family life. It feels like a very normal life, and it’s sometimes hard to believe what I had to go through to get here.

Julian has been very preoccupied with work recently. He works from home in the mornings, then leaves the house at noon to work with Mark, Daniel, and Phillip on their business acquisition in the company office. It’s only fifteen minutes from our house, and Julian likes knowing that he can quickly come home if I need him.

The home’s security is high-tech and impenetrable. Julian informs me that the only reason Josh gained access into our home is because he entered when one of the security guards was changing shifts with another guard. All those security guards have been let go, and I feel much better without them around.

I’ve been creating oil-on-canvas abstract paintings almost daily in my art room. I’ve already created nine paintings that Julian has called masterpieces. He hangs two in the hall just outside our bedroom, and the others I’ve decided to reserve for my private collection viewing that he promises to arrange for me in a few months.

My days consist of painting for a few hours, then spending time with my little boy. Julian comes home in the early evenings, and we have dinner together. We read our little boy a story and tuck him into bed. Once we are in our “rape room,” Julian rapes me. It’s a life I adore.

CHAPTER FOUR

Julian and I have breakfast together, then Julian heads upstairs to his home office. Seated at the kitchen island, I sip on a cappuccino as I sort through the large pile of mail. The two Dobermans are lying at my feet; they are very attached to me.

As I go through the mail, I’m reminded of how very important a person Julian is. He receives approximately fifty pieces of mail per day; he is one of the world’s wealthiest men, after all.

I sort the mail into two piles. In one pile I place the letters addressed to Julian. In the other pile, I place letters addressed to his two companies.

I come across a small envelope addressed to me.
That’s strange.
I take a sip of my cappuccino and note that there is no return address. I open the envelope, unfold the letter, and gasp. I nearly spill hot cappuccino all over myself. I re-read the sentence:

He is cheating on you.

I’m completely frozen with shock for a moment.
This must be some kind of joke. Who sent this?
There is nothing else typed on the white paper; only those words, typed in the middle in bold Arial font.

I grab the letter and rush to Julian’s office to show him.

“Julian.” I don’t bother knocking. I push open the door and approach him.

He gets startled and quickly closes the internet browser on his glass touch-screen computer.

“Cheryl, I’m used to you knocking first.”

“I’m sorry, I just—”

“It’s okay. I have to get going anyway.”

He stands up, wraps me in his arms, and locks me in a long, deep kiss that confirms my instincts—
he is not cheating on me
.

He turns off his computer, kisses me again quickly, and walks out of his office, leaving me alone with my thoughts. I stare at the computer for a long time.

The longer I stand there staring at his computer, the more curious I become. Finally, I power up his laptop and sit at his desk. A box pops up asking for a password.
What’s his password?
Maybe I just need to trust him.

My hands are already typing passwords that I think Julian would use. I snap myself out of it.
I know he’s not cheating.
I restrain myself from snooping and turn off Julian’s computer.

I go downstairs into the kitchen, where the nanny has placed little Julian in his high chair and is spoon feeding him. The house phone rings and the nanny picks it up. She hands the phone to me. “It’s for you, Mrs. Stone.”

“Hello?”

There is only dead silence on the phone.

“Hello?” I say several times before hanging up.

The phone rings again, but again there is only silence. I dial
last-call return
and a recorded voice tells me that the caller cannot be identified.

I dial Julian’s cell; it rings several times with no answer. I hang up, perplexed. I call Julian again, and again there is no answer.
That’s weird
. He is usually so prompt in picking up calls from me.

I quickly head upstairs to grab Julian’s business card from his office. I’ve never had to call his company office before, but I need to know if he was trying to reach me. I dial the company office number typed on Julian’s business card.

“Stone Group. How may I direct your call?” a female voice answers.

“I need to speak to Julian.”

“Just one moment,” she says politely.

“Mr. Stone’s office,” says another female voice.

“I’m Julian’s wife. I want to speak with Julian.”

“One moment please.”

I’m put on hold for a few minutes.

“I’m sorry. He’s not in his office,” she says politely. “May I take a message?”

“Tell him to call me as soon as possible.”

I hang up, feeling irritated.
If he isn’t in his office, then where is he? What if Julian really is cheating? What if everything people have said about him is true?

I recall Derek’s malicious words: “Julian is not the type of man to settle down…once he’s had enough of you, he will dispose of you like he has every other woman he’s been with.”

My heart is pounding with anxiety.
Time for some snooping.
I head into Julian’s office and try different passwords to unlock his computer. My mind is spiraling out of control as I continue trying passwords until I’m denied access for having tried too many of them.

I go through Julian’s desk drawers. Several drawers are locked, and the ones that are open contain only neatly organized office supplies.

The more I search through Julian’s office, the more I panic. The biggest fear gripping me is the thought of losing everything I cherish so much.
What if the man I love and trust, the one to whom I have dedicated my life, has reverted back to his old ways?
Maybe it’s true—you can’t change a man. Maybe everything I heard about him from other people is true: Julian is not the type of man who can settle down with one woman.

My throat is clenched so tight, I find it hard to breathe. I hold back the tears. My insane journey to this perfect, blissful life has turned sour and bitter.

I suddenly think of my dear friend, Yula. I grab the house phone and dial her number. She picks up and sounds happy to hear from me.

“Cheryl, how are you?”

“Yula, I’m so sorry about what I said before—”

“Honey, don’t worry about it,” Yula interrupts. “I was having a bad day. I know there are some men out there who stay loyal to their wives.”

I debate whether I should tell her my suspicions, but I don’t want to completely shoot down her hope for all men.

“How are you and Julian?” she says brightly.

“Good, really…good,” I respond as calmly as I can.
I can’t let her lose hope.

“Honey, is something wrong?” Yula says gently. “I can hear it in your voice. You know you can’t hide anything from me.”

“It’s…it’s just that…I’m not certain…but I think Julian may be cheating.”

“Oh my goodness,” Yula screeches. There is a moment of nervous silence and I can hear her breathing heavily through the phone.

“Are you sure?” she whispers.

“I’m not sure, but—”

“My husband is over forty, but men as powerful and good-looking as your husband are even more likely to cheat,” she says matter-of-factly.

My first thought when I saw Julian was that he was the best-looking man I had ever seen, even better looking than any male celebrity. I’m sure all the women who see him feel the same way.

“What…what should I do?” I stammer.

“I suggest going through his things, looking for clues. Smell his suit. Look through his pockets. Go through his cell phone. Do anything that will help you confirm your suspicions. Don’t confront him until you do. If you confront him too early, you can be sure he won’t confess. Gather some proof first, then confront him.”

“I don’t know what I’ll do if I find out he’s cheating,” I whisper, paralyzed with the fear of learning that he is deceitful.

“That’s exactly how I felt, but I survived,” Yula whispers. There is a brief moment of silence. “Hang in there.”

In the evening, Julian comes home and hugs me tightly. I breathe in his manly, spicy cologne, which I love so much. I bite my lower lip to stop myself from getting emotional.

I let him hold me tight. I press myself more firmly into his chest and take a deep whiff, but I can’t smell any woman’s perfume emanating from his suit.

“How was your day?” Julian murmurs in my ear.

“I called you on your cell and at the office, but you didn’t pick up or call me back.”

“I was out of my office.”

I quickly push myself out of Julian’s arms. “Where were you?”

“Cheryl, I know you are safe in this home, and I have security cameras all over the property. Nothing can hurt you or the baby.”

“But you haven’t told me why you weren’t in the office. Where were you?”

“I can check all the home’s security cameras from my phone and know that you are safe.”

“Answer my question,” I shout.

“Cheryl, don’t raise your voice at me,” Julian commands.

“Why are you avoiding my question?”

“I’m explaining something to you.” Julian gazes at me and frowns. “You know I usually call you back, but today I was really tied up at work.”

“Doing what?” I shout, no longer hiding my anger. My heart speeds up and my skin gets flush with heat. “Why weren’t you in your office?” I bark. “Where were you?”

“If I ever felt that you were in danger, I would be here in an instant. Everything I own is under my watchful eye, especially you and our son.”

“Am I nothing more than another one of your acquisitions?” I scream, my face heating up. I’m fuming.

“Cheryl, baby, calm down. What’s gotten into you?”

“You haven’t told me where you were.”

“I don’t feel that I need to explain my actions. But, since you are my wife, I can tell you that I was doing due diligence to ascertain the financial conditions of the business that I and my partners are seeking to acquire.”

Why is he so evasive?
That still doesn’t explain where Julian was.
He doesn’t have to explain his actions? How can he say that to me?
My guts twist with disgust as I imagine him fucking some woman today while I was sitting at home with our son.

“You still haven’t answered my question.” I carefully examine Julian’s eyes to look for any deception within them. Then I turn and walk away from him, my heart aching all the while. “I’m going upstairs.” I can’t be certain, but perhaps he truly is cheating on me.

I can’t picture him with another woman—it hurts too much. Yet I can’t get the image of him with another woman out of my head.

I go into our son’s room. Being with him is the only thing that will calm me down. He is with the nanny, but when he sees me, he smiles as though I am the center of the universe.

“I can spend the rest of the evening with him,” I tell the nanny. She closes the door and I distract myself by playing with him.

I hear a brief knock on the door. Julian opens it and steps inside. “How are the two most important people in my life?” His blue eyes shine brightly. He smiles as he comes toward us.

I gaze at our son—his intelligent eyes scan my face and then his father’s. Julian takes him into his arms. Our son looks back at me with a curious, questioning look.

Julian raises him into the air and smiles. Our son is suddenly distracted by his charming father and smiles back. Julian radiates a powerful charm that works on anyone, including our son.

“Shall we put him to bed and head to our room?” Julian asks, raising an eyebrow.

Julian tries to undress me once we are alone in our bedroom, but I push him away and tell him I’m not in the mood. He frowns but respectfully backs away.

I get undressed and put on a silk camisole and panties. I slip into bed beside him. He tries to pull me into his arms, but I recoil at his touch. He appears upset, but strangely doesn’t say anything. He turns on his side, his back facing me.

When I’m sure that Julian has drifted off to sleep, I head into his walk-in closet. I find the suit he wore today laying on the island, waiting to be steam cleaned by one of the maids.

Julian is exceptionally intelligent and there is absolutely no way he would leave any clues were he really cheating.
So why am I snooping? What am I hoping to find?

I look through each pocket of his suit and find nothing. I smell his suit thoroughly—not even a trace of women’s perfume.

I check the leather briefcase that he takes to work every day. I find nothing but papers inside. I gaze around his large walk-in closet, which contains thousands of expensive, custom-made suits, and I don’t know where to start.

I randomly search the pockets of several suits. When I find nothing, I feel a sense of relief and decide not to search any further. I come to my senses and realize that I may have let my imagination run a little wild.

I slide back into bed and cuddle up next to Julian, feeling his body emanate heat against my bare skin. I close my eyes and sigh.
I really hope he’s not cheating on me.