Top Love: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (Young Adult Stepbrother and Billionaire Romance Stories) (27 page)

“Okay…” I said after a few moments of processing the thought.  In just a minute my mind went from grief to confusion to jittery excitement.  I hated the man.  I loved the author.  I had no idea what to make of the Motorist, the Good Samaritan that was Alfred Banes.  But hell, I got all dressed up.  Better I make use of this dress then just going home to cry about it.

And it was refreshing to see Alfred warm up a little, like a human being.  Realizing that maybe not all human relationships were a waste of time.

We went to Miller’s Coffee House a short time after our talk.  He told me to meet him there.  We took separate cars.  Of course, I figured he would stand me up, as one last Screw You, Ma’am.  But no, to my surprise, he showed up.

He seemed calm in person, away from his fans and in a brand new environment thankfully away from the frantic noise of a crowded parking lot.  Maybe the real Alfred and I just got off on the wrong foot.  In person, now relaxing in front of me holding a latte, seemed nice.  A little debonair, like James Bond meets Ryan Reynolds.  Too good looking to be the usual best-selling novelist, who, let’s face it—tend to look downright monstrous themselves.

“So why…why did you do this?” I asked curiously, nervously sipping my coffee and suddenly lacking all that spunk and confidence I imagined having as his critic.  Even the Slave Girl fantasy version of me seemed more confident than the mouse I became over coffee.  “I mean, it wasn’t necessary.”

“I dunno.  You started it.  You came to see me.  I remembered you.”

“You did?”

“Well, yeah.  And you amused me.”

“I amused you?”

“You could say that.  I usually don’t get calls from crazy people thinking that I wrote a character based on them.  Based on one chance encounter.”

“Well…you did.  Didn’t you?”

He laughed.  “You sound angry about my wealth.”

I shrugged.  What could I say to that?

“Tell you what.  You want to see a tour of my house?  Free of charge, of course.”

“Why would I want to?”

“Because, dammit.  Capitalism works.  You know I grew up living in the slums of Mississippi.  I worked hard for my success.  And yes, I play hard because I work hard.  I earn it.  And I think I make a lot of people happy.”

“Well, no one’s arguing that.  You’re a good writer.  I’m not sure Barb is a great character…”

“She’s very relevant to the plot.  And you’re reading way too much into her.  Seriously.”

I smiled.  His charming side was indeed wonderful, a welcome change from snarky and uppity.  But was it all an act?

I took the grant tour of Alfred Banes’ home in Ohio.  It wasn’t just rich, it was obscenely beautiful.  Huge patios, a three story building, with floor to ceiling windows that looked like a hotel room in Paris.  How much money would a man like this have to make to live like a king nowadays? 

He found the story of his humble beginning the most interesting and shared plenty of details with me, as if to justify every mistake, every snooty thing he ever said about anyone.

“My mother, god bless her, always believed in me.  And before she passed on, I got to show her the fruits of my labor.  I got to take her to Paris, her dream vacation.”

He smiled and reminisced over a painting of his mother with was featured on the hall in a stark and high-ceiling hallway. 

“I’ll tell you, Barb.  At first, you don’t even see it coming.  The life change.  It feels like everything’s just the same.  Then little by little the numbers come pouring in.  And before you know it’s a huge snowball of activity.  It humbles you.  You never really feel as if you deserve it.  But yeah, you definitely get used to it.  I love my life.”

“I’m sure you do.”

“But I always loved my life,” he said in caution.  “I never once regretted what I was or the decisions I made, even when I had nothing.”  He eyed me and nodded, as if studying my reactions.  “Do you love your life, Barbara?”

“I think so.  Or…maybe not.  I guess I’ve never really thought about it.”

“Let’s have a drink,” he said, directing me to the study.  “The truth is, I wanted to call it even between us.  I was never comfortable writing Barb.  Because although she is a fictional character, I admit, I thought of your face when I wrote her.  And I felt…questionable about some of her dialog.  The way I wrote it.”

I smirked.  He finally confessed.  “So you admit it.  Barb is me.  I made a guest appearance in your book.”

“Don’t get a big head.  You know she’s an anti-hero,” he said with a laugh.

We went to the study and relaxed, enjoying real champagne from France, the kind of stuff even Jake in all of his glory would hesitate to buy.  Tasted like gold, divine body-clenching, syrupy goodness. 

We both got a little tipsy and were both a little enamored of him.  Of his house.  Of his name and insane life transformation that seemed like a fairy tale come true.

“All right, I admit I liked you,” he said with a closed-lip smile.  “The fact that you got all dressed up just to come and spite me kind of blew my mind.”

“Well, I guess…I really liked you too.  I do like you.  You’re smart.  And nice.  Despite your very bad bedside manner.”

“Oh and how would you know that?” he said with a sly smile.

“Well I just meant doctor.  Like a doctor’s bedside manner.”

“Ah, I see.  Because my bedside manner has received no complaints.  Just to let you know.”

“I’m sure it hasn’t!” I said with a laugh—a little too hard.  Too desperate.  Oh what woman doesn’t fantasize about sampling the good life?  A life changing kiss? 

Call me crazy…yes, I can see why some people would…that’s not the scenario I painted in his mind.  I chose a slightly different direction, which I’m sure he found fascinating.

“I actually…thought of some weird payback scenario.  Don’t ask me why.  But I thought what if he wanted me to be his slave?  I would have to pay off my debt by performing favors for him.  You know…kinky favors.”

I laughed hard, almost spilling champagne all over myself and more than slightly buzzed.  I can’t help it.  I fall for a guy and then I start showing him my worst side.

Then again, maybe that’s what Alfie found intriguing.

“Hmmm,” he said, not laughing.  Just staring.  Into my eyes deeply, comfortably, and letting the thought linger.  My eyes shot up in surprise.  What if he took it seriously.  Why in the world would I feed him such a ludicrous idea.  I really shouldn’t be around others when I drink. 

“Sorry.  That’s such a horrible image.  I don’t know why I said that.  Wow, this is really good champagne!”  I tried to laugh it off but he was still deep in thought.

“Well, maybe we could make that work.”

“What?” I asked in alarm.  The very idea sending shivers down my spine.

“Yeah.  You do owe me for the damages.  You’re eager to pay me back.  Aren’t you?”

“Well…uh…” I stumbled over my own words and crossed my legs. 

“We’re both mature adults here.  It would be an equal trade.  You’d get what you want.  And I would get something out of it.  No need to involve anyone else.”

“Well!”  I laughed nervously.  That wouldn’t seem weird to you?”

“Not at all.  I think you’re cute.  You amuse me.”

I took a nervous gulp and tried to fight the very un-feminist urges coming over me.  That is, to do everything he said.  To offer him anything he wanted.  I tried to tell myself I wasn’t aroused.  That this wasn’t right.  That it’s certainly not what I wanted.  Or was it?

“What did you do in the fantasy?”  He said, not bashful or blushing.  Just looking at me in curiosity, as if passing through a marketplace, neither needing or despising the merchandise.

“I…you…told me to…strip,” I barely said the last word aloud but he heard it loud and clear.

“Then strip.”

My eyes lit up right before I shook my head in gest.  He was bluffing.  Right?

“Take your clothes off.”

I stared back at him, as if caught in headlights.  As if my very life hung in the balance, or like this was one of those first-chapter-in-the-rest-of-my-life moments!

“You owe me,” he said firmly, enjoying the power trip.  And so was I.  “I want to watch while you take your clothes off.  Slowly.”

A sudden jolt of electricity went through my body the minute my hand went up to my dress, toying with the sensation of obeying him.  Knowing that if I did, I could never go back.  This would be an event, a change in my personality.  The beginning of a new story in my life.

“Barbara,” he said, his magnetic eyes attaching to mine from across the room.  His voice becoming a soothing, sweet chant.  “You’re going to do this for me.  It’s already decided.  Take another sip if you like.  But you’re going to take your clothes off.  From head to toe.  And I’m going to look at you.”

I exhaled in subdued excitement as I began unbuttoning, still eyeing him in wonder.  Waiting for him to say not to do it; that he respected me too much.  Or that this was a joke.  But he didn’t say it.  He just kept watching me, even when I unbuttoned my dress top and it swung open, leaving me in a white bra with cold and shaky skin.

“Good,” he said warmly, encouraging me to obey the rest of his commands.  I know I had a choice.  He already let me off the hook.  But the idea of an even trade was taboo.  Something I never expected to do for anyone, least of all a man I didn’t even know if I liked.

“Now take off your dress.  Keep looking at me.  I want your eyes glued to me.”

I sighed even deeper. How far was this scenario, this scene going to go?  Was he really going to let me do…everything I fantasized about?

I slid the skirt down to my knees, then slowly stepped out of it, obediently keeping my eyes attached to his.  He looked me up and down but it wasn’t enough.  He needed more if I was to make the sale. 

“Come here.  I want to get a closer look.”

I breathed in and out slowly, trying to catch my breath, trying to slow my thumping heart.  I walked over to him, always one step dragging behind, hoping he would change his mind.  But he never did.  He wanted it.  I fed him a possibility and he took it. 

I sighed in nervous surrender.  Whatever he wanted.  I was definitely considering giving him.  I felt powerless and yet alive at the same time.  He remained seated but put his strong hands on my thighs, bringing his face in closer to get a better look of my white panties. 

Nothing lacy or sexy.  Just panties.  Yet, he was enthralled.  I imagine he had his choice from any sexy young super model but for some odd reason, wanted to be attracted to me.

“Turn around.”

I exhaled softly…

I paused.  And breathed in terror.  I was already so far gone I might as well go this far.  And as far as he would have me.  What dignity was I clinging to?  Besides…

“Get a good look?” I said, still gulping down my excess saliva, knowing he was looking at my covered labia in fascination.  Probably figuring he owned it if he wanted it. 

I could only manage to shake my head and close my eyes. I was beyond embarrassed, with every second he kept up this act.

              “Turn around and look me in the eyes.”

              No, it wasn’t an act.  He really wanted me.  And I couldn’t stop myself from moving forward.  Dangerously close to his loveless desires.  Wasn’t I more than this?  Wasn’t I my own independent person with a dream?

“How far would you go if I told you to?”

“No more…” I whispered, but I couldn’t bear to meet his eyes again.

“Are you sure about that?”

He waited until I met his eyes.  He relaxed on the chair, comfy as can be.  Wearing his Charvet shirt and dark pants, and always with a mysterious gaze in his eyes, just his appearance was turning me on.  Forget the fact that I was tipsy and jazzed from all this role playing.  Or was it role playing?  Was I really doing this because he owned me?

“Does it turn you on?  Knowing the power I have over you?”

“Yes.”  Just hearing the confession coming from my lips startled me and sent flames into my fingertips.

“Then do what I say and come here.”

I obeyed.  Not too swiftly, as I was still shocked at what I was doing.  But I obeyed his every whim.  I wanted to see if he meant it.  If he would stop me before I go on.  Maybe he would.  Maybe he would let me off the hook, knowing I couldn’t handle this affair rationally.  How I would probably beat myself in the morning for going through with this…

“You know what’s going to happen?”

“What?”

“You know what’s going to happen.  Don’t you?”

“I…I…”  My rational mind bounced back, trying to warn me about falling for him.  Or getting too adventurous.  This wasn’t classy.  This wasn’t a guy I was going to tell my family about.  This was something else.  Something terrible I could never repeat to anyone I knew ever.

Oh God, I could almost feel him, even though he was inches away from our skin touching.  Deep inside I wanted him so bad.  I wanted to just be.  Not think this through.  Just let him take me.  I took a deep breath and sighed in passion.  I wanted to be even with him.  I wanted to let him take me for all I was worth.  Just because I owed him.  Sickening I know…