My Billionaire Stranger (12 page)

Chapter 15

In the morning before I’ve even opened my eyes I determine that I am entirely too warm…no I take that back I’m
hot!
Problem number two is that something is seriously cutting into my leg. Opening my eyes I immediately realize where I am and a little burst of butterflies flutter in my tummy. I’m in his bed…Marcus is still asleep breathing soft and steady, holding me close against his chest. He has turned himself slightly toward me with his cast propped on pillows. His cast. That’s what is cutting into my leg. Shit! I need to move but when I try his arms tighten around me.

“I was wondering how long you would sleep.” His gravely morning voice is incredibly sexy.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you but I need to move my leg off of your cast, it’s cutting into mine.” Sliding my leg off I start to move again but he’s having none of it.

“Don’t. I want you right here.” He pushes his hip against mine brushing his thick morning length against my leg. I can feel him smile into my hair… this was bound to happen after sleeping next to him, I tip my head back, bringing us face to face.

“Marcus, we can’t….”  “I am not going to lie Imani, I want you. Bad. But we need to take this slow, I understand now.” Oh great, he’s going to treat me like glass now that he knows about my past. This is the absolute worst reaction it confirms that he does realize he's dealing with damaged goods.

“I don’t want your pity,”  I twist to try and get away from him, again with no success. He sighs, rolling his eyes before capturing mine. “I am
not
pitying you, I want you to stay right here so I can breathe you in, feel your soft warm skin against mine, I want to be so deep inside of you that you don’t know where I end and you begin. You would tempt a saint Imani, there is no pity here, only understanding.” I open my mouth to say something but I close it when he hits me with a look of honest sincerity. He does understand, somehow he does, and maybe he’s been through something terrible too. I snuggle into the space between his arm and chest, there’s no place I’d rather be right now or ever. I am completely dumbfounded, how can I feel this way about a man I hardly know. His fingers feather along my arm as we lay together entwined; no more advances, just closeness. I’ve fallen into a state of complete tranquility when he speaks again. “Imani now I need to get up.”

“Oh gosh. Of course, bathroom?”

“Yes, unfortunately.” He loosens his grip on me and I crawl out of bed. I notice a pair of crutches propped against the wall next to the bed, where did those come from?  It seems like there is someone in this house who is always one step ahead, anticipating all of our needs. I look at Marcus, eyebrows raised in question. “I have a very efficient staff.” He shrugs, and now those people, or at least the one who snuck the crutches into his room are aware that I have slept with Marcus. Great…

“Hmm I see that, well let’s get you up then.” Shit, I realize my slip in words before they are out of my mouth and he chuckles. “I won’t say it.” He smiles his million dollar movie-star smile, while I grab the crutches and help him out of bed.  When we arrive in his bathroom I nervously ask, “Can you handle it from here?”

“Yes Imani, I can handle
it
just fine.” Oh brother, this guy is fond of puns. Rolling my eyes I turn my back on him. “I’m going to get dressed and make you an appointment at the hospital.” He grumbles something about not needing a scan and I scoot next door to retrieve my clothes. I discover a brand new outfit lying on the bed. Jeans, lavender silk boy short panties with lace trim and a matching bra, a thin cream cashmere colored sweater with a row of tiny pearl buttons up the front. It’s exactly like something I would wear. This guy doesn’t miss a beat, how does he arrange all of this while held up in bed? I grab the clothes and head to the bathroom, who am I to say no to clean clothes? After I shower and dress, I pull my hair back into a messy knot at the base of my neck, I don’t have any of my own styling tools so it’ll have to do. I dig in my purse for my phone, only to find that it’s dead. Great. I’m sure my mom has been trying to reach me, not to mention Lana and Latoya. Shit. I made plans to see the kids; I really need to call her. Maybe Marcus has a charger; if I remember correctly we have the same kind of phone. Back in his room I hear the shower and wonder how is he showering with his cast… damn it I leave him alone for 20 min! I crack the door tentatively and ask  “Marcus…do you need help, how are you showering with your cast?”

“Come in here, fuck I hate this shit,” I push the door open and see him through a wall of glass sitting on a stone bench in the most elaborate shower I’ve ever seen. It reminds me of a chapel with stone walls and a row of tiny stained glass windows up high near the ceiling. There are at least ten showerheads spraying in various directions and every one of them is pissing him off. He has a bag taped around his cast. Well at least he thought to do that.

“Why didn’t you wait for me? That’s what I’m here for!” I’m suddenly all too aware of his nakedness. I’ve seen almost every inch of him while bathing him in the hospital but I was clearly missing out on seeing the whole package at once! He is a glorious struggling bronze Adonis and as soon as he catches sight of me he hardens. With no shame or inhibitions he sits in the shower with water rippling over every defined muscle on his perfect body. An impressive erection points directly at me…. I gasp and look away embarrassed. “Imani! Do not look away from me damn it! You know I am attracted to you, but right now I really need some help here as much as I fucking hate to admit it.” I do my best to pull it together reminding myself that first and foremost I am here as a professional… yea right. I’m here because I can’t drag myself away from this man. I can’t stand the thought of anyone else touching him, smelling him, caring for him. I step in and redirect several of the showerheads to spray away from us.  Squirting some shower gel on a loofa I begin to work at washing every amazing exquisite part of him. All the while his eyes are searing into me. I try very hard to avoid his gaze by directing him to turn so I can get his back. When I’m done soaping and rinsing his chiseled back I help him turn back toward me. Kneeling down I begin washing his feet and work my way up his calves until, his smooth silky erection is at eye level with me, no way around it, literally.

“Um, do you want me to…?” His eyes full of adoration he nods and I drop the loofa. My breath is suddenly coming in short pants, my heart races, I am so incredibly nervous, but something in me, something I didn’t know existed takes over. I take his solid thick cock in my soapy hand and stroke the impressive length base to tip; a guttural moan from the back of his throat encourages me to go on. “Use both hands,” he instructs through gritted teeth, and I slowly begin to work both hands stroking and twisting in opposite directions, the motion coming naturally to me. I look up at him hoping like hell I’m doing this right. “Like this.” He moves his hands to cover mine gliding them together over the head and back down to the base repeating the motion until I’ve learned the rhythm that evokes the most erotic reaction. When he releases my hands to grip the stone bench on either side of his thighs, I continue until I’m sure he’s close. Seconds before climax he leans forward, grasping me behind my neck with one hand to kiss me with a powerful force, smashing my mouth with his there is nothing tender or gentle about this kiss. I’ve lost all concentration when he pulls away removing my hands from his pulsing length. I’m breathless from that kiss and my knees ache from kneeling on the hard stone floor. The incredible ability to deny himself release is shocking. “Not like this…I want you to be first.”

I’m stunned…. how can he be so close and just stop like that? “But…I want to, I’ve never done this before.” My admission genuinely surprises him

“Never?” I shake my head.

“You’re very good at it.” He smiles with a glimmer of pride in his eye,
now
I blush; where the hell was that 10 min ago? He holds both of my hands to help me stand up. I grab his shampoo and start massaging his scalp focusing my attention on anything other then his erection while he sits obediently, hands to himself. I rinse him off and shut down all of the water jets. “Towels?” He points to a stack of thick deep purple towels on a stool inside the shower but out of the water’s reach. I towel him off briefly before helping him out. He has one arm draped over my shoulder but I’m really not much help, if he went down I’d fall too. I steady him while he hops to a leather bench outside the shower.  When I remove the plastic and tape he’s still at full mast and I’m not sure what to do next, so I glance around nervously. He did say he didn’t want me to finish, so what now? “My closet is in the bedroom around the corner, just grab some jeans and a sweater,” he says completely unruffled. What kind of super power enables him to be taken to the brink of climax without reaching the ultimate goal? He reads my expression. “I am well trained in discipline no need to worry. That felt fucking amazing Imani but I want to pleasure you first. Anticipation is the best aphrodisiac.” He winks at me while I stand there staring like an idiot.

“Ok…” If that’s how he feels who am I to argue? He must be right about anticipation though because I am utterly turned on. I easily choose a pair of soft distressed jeans and a thick cable knit sweater from his organized closet. He dresses himself for the most part but he allows me to shave his face. I think he enjoys the intimacy of the act; it gives him an opportunity to really look at me while I’m concentrating on his skin. Ready to start our first day at home together we make our way to the dining room for breakfast.  “I need to charge my phone.”

“Next to my bed there is a charger that will work with your phone. Wasn’t there one in your room?  I told Mr. Black to make sure you had everything you could possibly need.”

“Oh, no I didn’t even look, I didn’t spend much time in there you know. Hey, did Mr. Black bring me these clothes?”

“No, you can thank Maria for that, she knows your size and what I like.” For some reason that reminds me of Elijah. “Where’s Elijah been? I haven’t seen him for a while.” “I sent him to Milan, I travel once a month to a different Dominus location, he went in my place.”

“How did you get started with the restaurant thing?” I ask, pushing my food around on my plate. I’m still curious how someone become
this
wealthy. Money’s not really my thing. It’s nice, but all I’ve ever wanted is to be able to support myself, live comfortably, pay the bills and have a little savings. All of which I’ve achieved, anything beyond that seems extravagant…. and Marcus is the epitome of extravagant.

“I was born and raised in Italy, technically I’m a Duke,” he says that while wiggling his eyebrows mischievously.

“Duke, like of Italy or something?”

“By lineage yes, I have no real ties or responsibilities, just the title. Anyway, my aunt taught me how to cook, my mother was not much for feeding her children,” he says with disgust. “I am quite good at it actually, when she died she left me everything she had, and she had a lot. It allowed me to open Dominus but that was not enough. She was everything to me and I wanted nothing more than to continue honoring her with my success. I expanded all over Europe and then to then the U.S.” “My aunt was blind, she could not see with her eyes but she always saw me with her heart,” he says with reverence. I’m taken with the adoring way he refers to his late aunt, my heart aches for his loss. When we are finished eating I help him move into the living room where I arrange him on the couch in front of the fireplace.

“Comfortable?” I ask.

“Yes, we need to plan out our day, I am going to Dominus to check on things while Elijah is out of town.” I open my mouth to argue but quickly realize it’s futile; he’s smug because he knows that I’m finally catching on to how things work around here.

“And we can fit in an appointment at the hospital right?”

“Yes Imani, I always keep up my end of a bargain.” He’s not happy about going to the hospital, but I couldn’t care less.  I have a deep desire to protect him, even if it is from himself. 

“What’s with the enormous fireplace anyway? You could cremate someone in there.”

“I do everything big Imani, you may as well get used to it.” Yea well, after his shower this morning I’d have to agree with that statement.

“Ok Mr. Big I’m going to charge my phone and make your appointment, can I get you anything?” Oh damn that smirk is back and this time he cocks his head to the side stirring up the butterflies in my tummy. I wish we could get to the ‘me first’
part right now.
Face flushed, I turn to go charge my phone and he calls out after me, “Imani.” I stop but I don’t turn around. “I love watching that beautiful ass of yours.” Smiling I put a little shake in my hips just for him and he chuckles softly. Is there such a thing as death by anticipation? If so I’ll be in the ground by noon!

Chapter 16

Shit! After my phone has charged just enough to power on, the texts start chiming in, one after another. Mom, Latoya and Lana… there are multiple from each of them. I call Latoya first and apologize for not showing up to see the kids and do my best to explain the situation with Marcus. I listen as she gives me a fair amount of shit for taking a leave of absence from my job out of the blue for a perfect stranger. If she only knew. I reassure her it’s all been taken care of legally with the hospital and that I am comfortable working for Marcus. She’s not buying it, but she doesn’t say anything more knowing all too well how stubborn I am. On to my mother and another explanation of my new temporary life situation, she plays twenty questions asking about Marcus’s full name, occupation and address. I know she’s going to hang up and Google him immediately, and knowing her she’ll probably call a private investigator. She won’t be finding much, been there and tried that. Satisfied that I’m alive, although suspicious of the arrangement, she lets me go on the condition that I promise to keep my phone charged and within my reach at all times.  She throws in a reminder of the emergency 911 buttons on the phone…oh my God, mother! Then with trepidation I dial Lana. She’s furious, overwhelmingly concerned and over the top as usual. “You moved in with him?!!” she shrieks.

“I just explained this to you Lana. I’m doing home health care for him
temporarily
,” I try to reassure her.

“This guy is hot isn’t he? What’s his name again? I’m gonna look him up and see what kind of fire you’re playing with. Don’t get me wrong; I’m over the moon that you’re involved with someone, but you really need to be careful. I can’t believe you
quit
your job!” she continues in her hysterical tone.

“You’re not hearing a word I’m saying Lana! I’m his nurse, it’s a professional relationship, and I didn’t
quit
my job, it’s a
leave of absence.”
I try unsuccessfully to explain it to her again when she interrupts me. “Fucking A Imani! I just Googled this guy! HE. IS. SO. FUCKING. HOT! Are you kidding me with the professional relationship shit, really I’m insulted that you think I’d fall for that BS! Have you fucked him yet?  Is he good? I bet he’s a machine. Wait, didn’t you say his leg was broken?  How do you do that with a broken leg?” And on and on she goes, asking questions in her machine gun fashion like I’m not even here. I try to slip in an answer once and a while but she’s on a roll, so I just lay on my back and stare at the white gauzy mesh material draped around the canopy of the bed. I listen until I’m pretty sure she’s worn herself out.

“You finished?” I ask, exasperated with her lengthy onslaught.

“Yes… no…I don’t know. I’m so blown away Imani this is so not like you!” Blessedly, she pauses and I grab my chance to begin to answer her questions.

“Well first of all yes, he’s very handsome, and yes he has a broken leg, that’s why I’m here, no we haven’t
fucked
so I don’t know if he’s a machine
.
And I wasn’t trying to feed you a line of BS or insult you I was just being honest.” Well, not really but I’m afraid if I’m honest with her she may have a stroke. I’ll wait until there’s something more to tell, she needs to wade into this deep cold pool slowly. I love Lana, we’ve been friends since high school, but she’s so high maintenance and incredibly overbearing. When we hang up I make one last call to the hospital and pull a few strings to get him in today. It’s really not necessary though; people know who Marcus Castillo is. Apparently he’s donated a lot of money to the hospital, participated in various charities and funded the addition of a psychiatric wing. Just say the name Castillo and people are instantly cooperative.  The nervous tone of the scheduler leads me to believe that they’ve dealt with him before, she even asks for a number to confirm the appointment, and it’s today! Back in the living room Marcus is working on his laptop, which has magically appeared as things in this house, seem to do. “Just what do you do to the staff at Seattle Trinity? I just got off the phone with the hospital, as soon as I say Castillo they’re falling all over themselves trying to please you.” When will I learn? The look of satisfaction on his face says it all but of course he tells me anyway. “Imani people may not like me but they know better then to disappoint me. I told you before, people are tools used to get a job done and fear is a key motivator.” “You don’t scare me.” I say “I really don’t do I?” “No.” “What
do
I do to you Imani?” This conversation is going in a direction I’m not comfortable with, when people start discussing feelings I bolt or do my best to become invisible and slink away. I’m not sure there are words to describe how he makes me feel. It’s a complicated mixture of intense physical attraction and a tender unique connection to something else…his heart, his soul? I’m in foreign territory when it comes to relationships with men, never had one, never wanted to. Standing at the end of the couch I pick at a piece of invisible lint and try to find the words to answer his question but I can’t and he feels my frustration. “Come, sit with me.” Avoiding his eyes I round the couch and sit with him. “I know what you’re feeling because I feel it too, I see it in your eyes, the way you blush, how the vein in your neck pulses when we are together, the way you fidget and the yearning that glows from every pour in your body. I don’t know what to call it and I am not much on titles or categorizing so how about we just show each other instead.” He rubs a loose curl of my hair between his fingers before tucking it behind my ear.  Gently he holds my chin between his thumb and forefinger to bring my face to his.  “This thing between us my Imani…” He shakes his head softly in disbelief  “I do not love people, there are a few that have been like family to me but they have never had my heart. I have locked it up tight on purpose to protect it from something like this, but somehow you have the key.” His lips claim mine as his words claim my heart. We are two of a kind, hiding and protecting our lives from love but a greater force has different plans for us it seems. Our kiss is slow and sweet full of tenderness and peace, his lips stray to my cheeks and then finally he places one soft gentle kiss on the tip of my nose. “There, that is a fraction of what you do to me Imani. I look forward to showing you a million more.” A hurricane of emotion sweeps through my chest and my eyes brim with tears, his proclamation has moved me and the amazing thing is that I feel the same way about him but the lump in my throat right now prevents me from reciprocating the thought. I do the only thing my body will allow me to which is nod in agreement. “I am glad you agree, you should do that more often nurse Imani.” Oh brother I thought we were done with the ‘nurse Imani’ thing and why does he always have to end beautiful emotional moments with a cocky comment? I roll my eyes when he isn’t looking but somehow he knows I’m doing it. “Just another thing we have in common nurse Imani, eye rolling.” he says while removing pillows out from under his leg. Any other time I would roll them again but I’m distracted. “Where do you think you’re going?” I ask     

“We need to go to Dominus before lunch starts.” His phone is already in his hand calling Mr. Black to request that a car be brought to the front of the house in 15 min.

“You do remember you have a broken leg right?” I remind him with some of my trademark sass. “I was wondering where that smart mouth had gone. And yes, of course I remember. Mr. Black will drive us, my car is quite spacious, I can stretch out in the back.”

“You’re taking pain meds before we go, I won’t take no for an answer. You haven’t had anything for pain since we’ve been here and if you’re going to be moving around all day, things are only going to get worse.” Marcus sighs heavily “For you Imani, I will take something but I do not need it. I prefer not to repeat myself but do you remember me telling you that I can handle the pain? My tolerance is very high, but if it eases your mind I’ll take something to appease you.” He shrugs and I wonder for the second time what the hell he’s been through. A mother that didn’t want to feed him, very comfortable with pain, nightmares, and sleeping pills…I’m sure he’s revealed more to me than most people without even scratching the surface. I’m still amazed that I shared my own experiences with him, he does something to me, and opening up to him is easy and natural. I was leery but deep down I wanted him to know something about me that almost no one else knows. I wanted him to realize how much I trust him. I can only wait for him to do the same with me.  Sharing demons is a delicate balancing act and I sense that he has just as many as I do, maybe more…. I hold out two Percocet with some water, and he rolls his eyes at me. “Aren’t these bad for me if I’m having black outs?” he asks, and I have to admit he has a point.

“Well the sleeping pills didn’t kill you so you may as well not be in pain,” I quip, he laughs at me brushing my hand away, refusing the pills. “You said if it made me feel better you’d take them, well I’d feel better.” He eyes me before taking one of the pills with no water and I cringe which amuses him immensely.

“Help me up, we can start heading out.” I help him with the crutches and we make our way slowly toward the front doors. A car unlike any I’ve ever seen before sits idling in the circle drive. “What kind of car is that?” I ask

“A Maybach convertible, do you like it?”

“It’s…fancy and big.” It’s a huge, pearl-white sedan ridiculously expensive and outrageously extravagant, just like the man himself…

“It has a lot of room inside, I prefer it most of the time.”

“How many cars do you have?” I can’t fathom why anyone would need another vehicle when they own this one. And it’s beyond belief that he has to think for a while about how many he has, my God…really?

“Six I think…well no, five I guess since one of them is underwater.”

“Shit, I wasn’t thinking I’m sorry Marcus, I didn’t mean to bring it up.” Silence falls between us for a moment before Mr. Black exits the driver’s seat to open the door for Marcus. He hands me his crutches and I watch as him sit and pull himself across the back seat effortlessly, all six feet four inches of him. “I’ll sit up front with Mr. Black,” I say when I realize there is no room left back there for me to sit, he nods with a sigh. I think he underestimated how roomy his big fancy car is. He needs me back there with him, not as his nurse but as his companion. I close the door for him and slide in the front with Mr. Black. The front of the car is completely separated from the back with a dark window, which is meant to provide total privacy to the occupants in the rear. Mr. Black catches me checking out the window and presses a button that opens it so I can see Marcus. I wish I could reach him, touch him, hold his hand; it’s such a small amount of separation between us, but it feels like the distance between the east and west coast. It’s irrational, crazy, unreasonable, and insane just like us. 

“Stop the car,” I say abruptly. Mr. Black glances at me like I’m nuts, and maybe I am. But right now I don’t give two shits what he thinks. I must have just enough wild in my eyes because he pulls over to the side of the road; I’m out in two seconds, crawling into the back with Marcus. He immediately understands the need for contact and lifts his casted leg allowing me to slip under it and rest it across my lap. It’s heavy but anything is better than sitting up front behind the dividing window.  I felt like a child looking in through the glass window of a candy shop who isn’t allowed to go in. He smiles knowingly while taking my hand and instantly the two magnets connect. Mr. Black sits up front watching us in the rearview mirror briefly before he closes the partition giving us privacy. The rest of the ride to Dominus is quiet; Marcus plays with my fingers absently in his lap deep in thought. I try to keep an eye on him without seeming obvious I’m constantly checking his actions and reactions for something out of the ordinary, always anticipating another blackout.

“Sir?” I hear Mr. Black say over an intercom from the front seat.

“Around back,” Marcus answers, and we drive a bit further, stopping at what must be the rear entrance to Dominus. I stare out the window at a cold, wet day not unlike the other 364 days of the year in Seattle Washington. Once out of the car Mr. Black rushes ahead to open the door for us and we step into a poorly lit hallway. I follow Marcus down the hall listening to him click clack until we reach his office. In the center sits a massive mahogany desk typical Marcus style. “I’d give you a tour, but they’re setting up for lunch. We can go out when they’re done, before the first reservation arrives.” He gestures to a couch opposite the desk that he wants me to sit on while he makes his way behind the desk. Mr. Black follows Marcus, placing his laptop on the desk before leaving us alone again. 

“I have a couple of things I have to tend to, do you mind staying with me and waiting?” he asks.

“Of course, I hadn’t planned on leaving you alone. I’m yours for twelve hours, knock yourself out,” I say.

“Twelve hours, hmmm? I’m going to have to let you go home at some point aren’t I?” he mutters. 

“Well yes, my family and my best friend are freaking out about this arrangement,” I say the words but I know that being separated from him for any amount of time will be difficult. Shit I couldn’t even sit in the front of the car without him for five minutes, how the hell am I going to go home for the weekends? 

“Tell me about your family.” He asks leaning back in his chair like a king on his thrown. Before I begin though I realize I haven’t elevated his leg and I start to look around for a stool.  Settling for a chair I scoot it close to him and work at propping his leg as I fill him in about my family.

“I have one sister, Latoya, who is three years older than I am, she’s married with two children that I love like my own.  My mom is a gymnastics teacher and my Dad a veterinarian, pretty normal family, nothing exciting really.”