Racing Heart (The Billionaire Brothers 1) (7 page)

The venison, presented as pan-seared mignon and partnered with celeriac cakes, was Megan’s favorite. Jake seemed to have some kind of taste orgasm when presented with the hickory-smoked duck, and then another when trying the braised pheasant with chanterelle risotto. As he and Megan tried the profiteroles together, and then succumbed to the magic of Dieter’s simply perfect apple strudel, Megan felt his hand on hers, there between them on the table, and found it the most natural thing in the world.

The others were moving on to a downtown bar for late cocktails, but Jake made their excuses. “Simply charming,” one elderly guest commented to Jake, clearly content with his choice of date. “We do hope we’ll see you again.”

They spent a long moment gazing over the city from this stunning vantage point. A stream of lights expressed the city’s traffic, silent from up here, while gazing down the ‘canyon’ formed by the skyscrapers either side of the avenue, Megan could have persuaded herself that this was an alien city, and not one made so famous by movies and books that she almost felt she knew it already. Reluctant to rush her, but filled with the need to be alone, Jake made sure they had the chance to say goodbye to Dieter before taking the elevator down and meeting up with Phil at their limo.

It wasn’t until the jet was airborne once more, and angling back north towards Boston, that Megan and Jake were able to enjoy the final course of the evening’s entertainment. She knelt up for him on the generous recliner seat, allowing him to take her slowly, gently, from behind, his hands smoothing over her skin and delving down to bring a double pleasure to her swollen, receptive clit. After they had come, strongly and together, Megan’s eyes opened once more and revealed to her the orange glow of the new day’s sunrise.

“Heavenly,” she said, as Jake kissed her back. “Just heavenly.”

***

After a few weeks, Megan began to realize that she was living not one, but two lives.

There was her regular, daytime life as a nurse, studying harder than ever before, stressing about upcoming exams, cramming with Della and a group of trainee nurse friends, trying not to kill anyone during their practical sessions on the wards, and generally holding body and soul together by the thinnest thread.

And then there was her relationship with Jake, her ‘evening life’, one so distant from the pharmacology lab and syringes and prescriptions that it seemed, at times, thoroughly unreal. This was a world of being picked up in a nice car, eating at some of the best restaurants in the country, visiting museums, going to the opera, and generally being pampered like a princess. It was also, Megan liked often to remind herself, the time of the greatest physical pleasure of her entire life.

Sex evolves, like a relationship evolves, and her sex with Jake was becoming richer, more daring, even occasionally experimental. Something had been opened up by their mid-air tryst, a new willingness to go further, to risk being refused or stared at incomprehensibly, or simply laughed at. But neither of them ever said no. It was like living the plot of an erotic novel, with scenes of almost absurd opulence nestling between each astonishing session of breathless, unashamed fucking.

Although he claimed never to have tried it before, Jake turned out to be a master of sexting. It became the number one reason why Megan checked her phone, and never failed to add a little excitement, not to mention more than a little wetness, to her day. Hard at work in the lab, the morning after a particularly open-minded night of lovemaking at Jake’s apartment, Megan received:

Hey sexy... Careful not to work your ass off today. I know you want me inside you there again tonight. So tight and hot... mmm.

When Jake was traveling, which was perhaps three nights a week, they figured out the time zone in advance and arranged brief but intensely sexy Skype or FaceTime calls. Megan loved pretending to be her distant lover’s sex slave, growing through her initial reluctance and shyness to become an enthusiastic webcam performer. Jake even bought her a top-of-the-line HD webcam to enhance the experience, letting him see in detail Megan’s acquiescence to his demands.

It made Jake smile, as he sat waiting in the airport lounge, to think that he appeared hard at work at his laptop, when actually he was directing a porn movie of his own devising. As his flight to St Louis was called, his personal actress was playing with a whole fruit bowl full of props, climaxing with the biggest and thickest one deep inside her.

A few hours after this luridly sensual display, Megan sent Jake a selfie which showed her obeying the one command Jake had not had time to witness; the same long, curved banana being pushed into somewhere Megan had originally thought too small and tight for the purpose. She grinned to herself as she pressed ‘send’, and then brought herself to orgasm more conventionally, with a bullet vibrator Jake had bought her for those nights they were apart.

But then hours passed. Many hours, and then a whole day. She texted him again, hoping for another webcam session, but there was no reply.

And then a whole, agonizing, inexplicable week passed without a single word from Jake.

It took two days for panic to set in, and five before she plucked up the courage to call Tom. She had the phone in her hand, Tom’s number ready to dial, for half an hour before calling him.
It doesn’t make any sense. He said he’d just be gone overnight, and that we’d be together as soon as he got back.
In the end, she convinced herself that it wasn’t just vanity or the need for attention; she was actually worried about him.

“Tom, hey...”

“Megan, how are you sweetie?”

He had called her that for so long that it no longer seemed flirty. Just kind of comforting. “I’m... Well... Have you heard from Jake in the last few days?”

Tom thought for a second. “Sure, he called in from Manila yesterday with an update on the meetings over there.”

Manila? He said he was going to St Louis. Who makes a mistake like that?
 

“Oh, yeah,” Megan said. “Of course. It’s just that he promised to bring me back some fabric for a dress I’m making,” she lied elegantly and with surprising imagination given her stress levels, “and I hadn’t heard anything.”

“Well he’ll be back in a couple of weeks, I think,” Tom said, checking his own schedule as he spoke. “Want me to let him know you’re asking about him?”

Megan toyed with the idea, but decided against it. “No, I’ll just see him when he’s back. Must have slipped his mind.”

“OK, well I’ll see you after Andrea’s lesson tomorrow?”

“Sure. Bye.”

She ended the call, sat on her sofa by the window, and cried for hours.

Erica came home to find her curled up, eyes reddened, face a mess. Without a word, she brought over a bottle of good red wine and two glasses, opened the bottle with an experienced twist of the corkscrew, and set a very full glass in front of Megan. The stricken girl gave her a pleading, damaged look.

“Tell Aunty Erica. I won’t tell anyone except Ruby Red here, and she’s as good a listener as I am.”

Megan poured everything out, all of the details she had held back, for fear of being told that this
exact thing
would happen. “He treats
all
women this way, you see,” she explained. “And I didn’t see it, because I’m
fucking stupid
.”

“Don’t be hard on yourself, darling. You’re not the one who vanished without saying anything.”

Megan sniffed. “The Internet was right. He picks women up, enjoys himself, plays with their emotions, and then throws them away.”

Erica joined her tearful friend on the sofa and held her close. “There’s no way this is just a misunderstanding?”

“What’s there to misunderstand?” Megan complained. “Most guys would have said something like, ‘hey, this is getting too serious for me’, or ‘hey, didn’t I tell you I’m actually married?’ This one,” she said, stabbing an angry finger into the sofa, “he just swans off to the fucking Philippines without even telling me?”

Erica handed Megan her glass. “Then, turn the tables. You’re the one who had fun, who was jet-setting around and having some pretty amazing sex, by the sounds of it. Think of it that way:
you
used
him
.”

They talked it over until midnight, when Megan decided she needed sleep more than comforting. Erica sat up alone, finishing the bottle, and was asleep on the sofa when the apartment’s landline phone rang.

Megan emerged from her bedroom looking awful. “I’ll get it.”

It was Tom. “Megan?”

“Hey...”

“You’re phone’s turned off,” Tom said, almost angrily. “I need your help, Megan. Sorry it’s so late.”

“It’s beyond late, Tom, it’s three in the damn morning. What’s up? Is everything OK?”

Tom audibly took a deep breath. “It’s Andrea.”

Cold fear gripped Megan’s chest. “Is she alright?”

“I don’t know, Megan. She left here but she never showed up at her friend’s house. I called the police hours ago and I figured she’d just show up but I’ve been calling her phone and there’s no answer and I just...”

“Tom? Where is she?” Megan asked very deliberately.

“We don’t know, Megan. She’s missing.”

To Be Continued…
 

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Hi! I’m Victoria Villeneuve. I’m a small town girl at heart, with dreams of living in a cabin in the country with my two dogs and my amazing boyfriend Mike. When I’m not writing you can usually find me enjoying a nice mocha in my local coffee shop, reading some of my favourite books by the lake or playing soccer with my friends.
 

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