Fatal Attraction: A Playboy Billionaire Romance Page 5

  “So… your brother basically feels guilty that he was the lucky sperm who wound up latching onto the egg of a rich broad while the rest of them are struggling to make ends meet… so he gives out money to them… then you make him realize he’s not all that rich at all by making him into a charity case with the raise just like he does with his other siblings?” she questions, “So does that pretty much hit the nail on the head?”

  “Damn,” I say, realizing she is right.

  We push the conversation aside; she’s given me a bit to think about. Soon we are landing, and she laughs when she realizes we are in Paris. “What’s this?” she asks, “Do you take all your girlfriends to Paris? I bet this gets you laid every time.”

  “Not exactly.” I say, “Don’t you realize what is taking place in Paris today?”

  She pauses, and then her eyes light up. “The Tour de France? Are you serious? We’re coming to see the Tour de France?” The athlete in her is about to explode.

  “Oh, no.” I say, “We’re going to bike it.”

  “What?” she questions, “We don’t… I don’t… we don’t have a team, and we haven’t trained…”

  “Relax.” I say, “We’re not going in the actual race. I called in favor. You and I will be heading out a few hours before the race begins. They were not going to let me anywhere near the tracks during race time.”

  You better believe that she is beyond thrilled. What athlete doesn’t dream of biking the Tour de France? Before we head out, we change into some workout attire. It’s going to be a hell of a ride. The bikes I ordered are waiting for us as volunteers are still setting up for the race. “You ready?” I ask as we make our way towards the starting gate. She is more than ready. The two of us speed through the race, exhausted incredibly early on. We wind up halfway through the track before having to stop for half an hour to stretch and laugh about not being quite up to par with our biking abilities. We’re off again, and soon we complete the track just as the actual racers are heading towards the lineup. We’re exhausted, but we hang out to watch the race anyways.

  By the end of the day, we’re both incredibly tired, but that does not stop us from renting a hotel room for a little after-race party of our own. She does not have sex with me, of course. She’s clearly classier than I had anticipated. No sex on a first date despite how amazing it was sort of rule. I can respect that, but now she’s made it a challenge. We wind up collapsing in bed together, and she makes me cuddle. I don’t mind. She is my fantasy girl, after all.

  12

  I am just having a lazy afternoon in my apartment when I go to answer a knock on the door. I probably should have checked the peephole. As soon as I opened the door, Éclair slipped in and closed the door behind her. “I only have an hour,” she says and throws her purse and kicks off her shoes right by the front door. She tosses her coat off and puts her hands against my chest, pushing be back towards the bedroom. The joys of having an anti-relationship relationship.

  “Whoa, hold up-” I start to say, and she backs me into my bedroom door. She presses her lips into mine and pulls at my shirt. Éclair starts to work her hand up my shirt to touch my bare chest. She must have had a rough morning. I almost go along with it, but I break my lips away from hers and put my hands on her hips to gently pull her off me. “Éclair…”

  “What?” she snaps, “What’s got into you today?”

  “I’m, uh,” I am not really sure what to say exactly to prevent her from giving me hell; I deduce that there is no way to phrase it without receiving her wrath. I just go for it, “I’m seeing someone.”

  She laughs, “Oh? Are you?” She keeps touching me as though she thinks I’m joking and I’m going to strip down for her right now. “Are you two exclusive?”

  “Well,” I speak nervously, “Not exactly. We have not really talked about that yet.”

  “Who is the lucky lady?” Éclair asks and puts her hands on her hips, still standing uncomfortably close to me.

  “Her name is Sylvia. You used her as a model once.” I say.

  “A model? I’m impressed.” Éclair laughs again, “Sylvia? The name does not sound familiar. But I have used a lot of models. Well, if you two are not exclusive, I see no reason why-” she reaches out and touches my chest, but I pull away and step aside so that she can no longer back me into the door.

  “Knock it off, Éclair,” I say although she is right. Sylvia and I have not even had sex yet; it’s not like we’re official. “Whatever this is between you and me, I can’t keep it up right now.”

  Éclair rolls her eyes, “Listen, James. Whatever is going on between you and this Sylvia person is not going to last. Do you know why?”

  I frown, not caring for her assumption, “No, why?”

  “Because you have no idea how to operate in an actual relationship, James.” She says, “You have no idea what to do. You and I have something that works. It’s just sex. What are you going to do when it is something more than that?” She kisses me again.

  I guess I convince myself that she is right. The next thing I know we are heading back to the bedroom, and she gets us both out of our clothes fast. She throws herself back onto my bed and spreads her legs. I climb onto the bed and go to kiss her face, but she stops me and grabs me by my ears, pulling my face down to her. She knows I’m such a desperate dumbass in the bedroom that I’ll do anything. She makes me lick her labia before she lets me obtain any sort of satisfaction for myself. She spreads her legs wide; I start to work my way up, but she pushes my head back down. Really? I keep going for a few more minutes before I attempt to move again, but this time when she tries to push my head back down I grab her by her wrists and hold them above her head while I plunge inside of her. “Assertive, aren’t we?” she asks.

  “Shut up,” I say. I know she likes it when I take the lead, but she will never admit it to me. She likes to be the one in control most of the time, but so do I. It’s like a constant battle whenever we’re in bed together. She’s really wet after my mouth work, so this is becoming increasingly pleasurable for me. I squeeze her wrists when she tries to move, and she groans excitedly. Yes, I know she likes me to show her that I can be in control.

  When it’s all said and done, she does not take her time. She has to get back to work. Like she said, she only had an hour, and I wasted time arguing with her about whether or not we were going to sleep together at all. I am home, and it’s my day off, so I don’t rush to get dressed. I might just walk around naked. Who cares? It’s my apartment.

  Éclair redoes her makeup in my master bath, and when she comes back into my bedroom, she says, “Listen, James, I am not into being the whole other woman, if you know what I mean. When or if things get serious between you and this Sylvia woman, I’ll happily step back and find myself a new fuck buddy, but for now, don’t waste my time arguing with me.” She leaves my apartment, letting herself out. I laugh at myself once she leaves. I laugh because I’m picturing myself in a serious relationship. Who knows? I mean, I just met Sylvia, but we will see what happens.

  13

  After a slightly less extravagant but equally kinetic date with Sylvia, I wind up giving her a tour of my office building and factory. She is fairly interested in my supplements (that or she is pretending to be to impress me), but she has a lot of stashed supplements from Éclair’s brand after having modeled for the company. “Well then,” I tease, “Supporting my competition are we?”

  “Sweetie, you knew this when we met.” She teases right back.

  The office becomes boring after a while as does the factory. I make the suggestion that I take her to the gym after hours, and she seems interested in that as well. On the drive over, I tell her about the rock wall, the sauna, and all of the other impressive perks. She says she is eager to hit the rock wall once we get there, so we do. After the rock wall, I convince her to head to the pool. This is where I am hoping to shine. I still have not had sex with her, but I am determined as hell to get lucky with my fantasy girl on date number
two.

  We grab some bathing suits from the gift shop and dive in. She looks fine as hell even in the not-so-skimpy one piece we sell at the gift shop. “Too bad you didn’t tell me were coming here,” she jokes as she glides closer to me in the book, “I would have brought my bikini.”

  I feel myself blushing, “I would have liked to have seen that.” I say and use the opportunity of her coming so close to put my hands on her hips and go in for a kiss. Just as planned, the kiss lasts a lot longer than a peck. She does the same sort of impressive tongue movement that Éclair is notorious for, and it forces me to have to wipe Éclair from my mind. The last thing I want is to be in bed with Sylvia and call her by the wrong name due to the force of habit.

  I decide to test the waters to see if she is up for more than just kissing in the pool. She’s not a slut like women I’ve dealt with in the past, but I like that about her. Like a young high school kid, I work my way past first base with caution so as not to offend or scare her off too quickly. I wind up pushing her back towards the edge of the pool, and I press my body closer to hers as one of my hands touch her breasts atop her bathing suit.

  Next, I start to work my hand down her front, touching her stomach first before venturing further south until my hand is rubbing her between her legs. I pull her closer with my other hand, and I hear her groan in my ear, “Mmmmm….” She says, “I don’t suppose there is somewhere we could…”

  I’m on it. The two of us are up in my office in record time. We wrapped up in each other’s tight embrace with our lips locked before we even make it through the door. I have to kick the door shut behind me because she is pulling me closer to her. We are so incredibly entrapped with one another that we bump into the walls and coffee table trying to make it to the couch, our lips never departing.

  I have to help her peel off her wet bathing suit, and I see her naked for the first time. It is way better than I had even imagined. She is perfect. I think I get a little light headed as blood rushes to my groin from the incredible excitement I am feeling. “What?” she asks, realizing that I am staring.

  “You’re absolutely stunning,” I say, and I think I hear her stifle a giggle.

  She throws herself onto my lap, and I’m regretting that my bathing suit is still on. I run my hands up and down her back as I stare at her front side, still dripping wet from the pool. She reaches down and touches the outside of my bathing suit just as she is leaning forward for another incredibly passionate kiss. This woman is absolutely incredible. I feel her lean back to put her feet on the floor in front of the couch and grab my bathing suit at both hips, prepared to help me yank them down.

  It is at this moment that my office door flies open. I really should learn to lock that thing. It’s Eddie, of course. “Damn it, man!” Eddie shouts.

  Sylvia shrieks embarrassingly and grabs her bathing suit; she runs behind my desk to shield her naked body from Eddie. Is he cussing at me? He’s becoming a serious cock block! I was so damn close; there is no way she is still going to be in the mood now. “Eddie, chill.” I snap.

  Sylvia’s head pops up from behind the desk; she looks pissed that Eddie is still in the room, “Do you fucking mind?” she snaps.

  “Oh! Sorry!” Eddie rolls his eyes and steps out, grumbling under his breath, “James, a word?”

  I glance back at Sylvia, who says to me, “I’m putting my bathing suit back on. I’ll meet you in the locker room. I’m going to go get my clothes.”

  “Okay. So sorry about that.” I say, and I know she can hear the disappointment in my voice. I step out into the hall with Eddie. We wait for a moment for Sylvia to get dressed. She passes us in the hall and hurries off to go locate her clothes.

  “What do you want, Eddie?” I ask in an obviously annoyed tone.

  He looks pissed off, “You can’t keep turning out businesses into your personal fuck shops!” He snaps.

  I’m still furious that I didn’t get with Sylvia, so I pop off at him, “First of all, Eddie, it’s not our businesses –they’re mine. Second, that’s my office. Why don’t you learn to fucking knock?”

  “Well excuse me!” Eddie hisses, “You’re right. I should have knocked now, and I should have knocked when you were doing my girlfriend on the other side of that door too, right?”

  “You still pissed about that?” I ask, “I already told you, I had no idea who she was. Besides, it’s not my fault you can’t keep a woman satisfied.”

  “Screw you, man.” Eddie has his fists down at his sides. “One of these days you are seriously going to cross a line with me, and you are really going to regret it. I mean, really.”

  “Oh, am I?” I ask. “What are you going to do, Eddie?”

  Eddie is practically shaking, “I ought to beat the shit out of you. Seriously, man. One day this whole playboy routine is going to get old, and you’re going to piss off the wrong guy while you’re fucking the wrong girl. Someone is going to kill you one of these days!”

  “Is that a threat, Eddie?” I ask.

  “Maybe it is!” he shouts, but then he waves his hand in my face and does an about face. “I’m not even in the mood to deal with this shit right now. I came here to get you to sign some papers; I called your driver, and he said you were here. I’ll just put it all on your desk for when you decide to actually show up for work. I’m going back to the factory.” He storms off, leaving me feeling like an idiot in my bathing suit in the middle of the hallway.

  I head down to the main floor of the gym where I meet Sylvia coming out of the locker room. “Everything okay?” she asks.

  I want to say no, but it’s not like I’m going to express my deep seeded disappointed that we did not wind up sleeping together. I smile and say, “Yeah, everything’s fine. That was my brother, Eddie, by the way.”

  “Geeze, I guess I made one hell of a first impression then, huh?” she laughs, “My bad.”

  I laugh, and the two of us head out –I’m not even going to bother trying to get her back into the mood. She’s clearly not now –not after my brother walking in on her completely nude. Another night, I suppose. I ride with her as my driver takes her home. I walk her to her apartment before returning to the car, still horny as hell. “Where to, sir?” the driver asks.

  “Head to Ms. Éclair’s,” I say.

  “Didn’t get lucky with Ms. Sylvia, I’m guessing.” The driver grumbles under his breath. Asshole.

  I pretend I did not hear him give him a second chance, “I’m sorry, what was that?”

  “Nothing, sir.” He says, and he pulls the car out into the street.

  14

  So Éclair turns out to be in a rather kinky mood this evening. As soon as I showed up at her door, she got me to her bedroom in a hurry and pulled out some fuzzy handcuffs. It’s been a while since we last used those, and she had been the one chained up. This time, she handcuffs me to the bed and blindfolds me. She licks my chest and works her way down speedily, clearly eager to get the ball rolling as am I.

  She licks my cock and wraps her mouth around it, and I feel my toes curl slightly; this is something she is exceptionally good at. We’ve been fooling around for a while now, and she has picked up a thing or two since we first started. I groan loudly, and I’m disappointed when I feel her pull away, but she soon sits on my dick, and we are at it again. She does all the work, and I feel myself excitedly pulling at my restraints. She’s such a tease sometimes. Occasionally she leans forward, and I feel her bare breasts stroke my face and chest.

  Something about the blindfold allows to you fantasize better, and I’m definitely picturing Sylvia after having struck out (thanks to Eddie) earlier today. That was a huge mistake. “God, Sylvia-” I wind up saying, and Éclair is off me in a second.

  “Excuse me?” she snarls and slugs my erection like it was a damn punching bag.

  “Son of a bitch, you fucking cunt!” I scream and instinctively bend my knees and roll to my side; I can’t go too far from the cuffs.

  She yanks the blindfold
off me, “Screw you!”

  I can’t respond. She punched my dick! She actually punched my dick! She leaves the room. Seriously? “Éclair! Get your ass back in here and undo these cuffs!” I shout, my groin still throbbing. I cannot believe she did that. I hear her front door close. Hell no! She fucking left! “Bitch! I swear you better not leave me here like this!” My dick hurts, damn it!

  My erection goes down, but the pain only gets worse. There is something about getting knocked in the groin that makes you want to grab at it to make sure it’s still intact, but I can’t do that with my hands cuffed. I yank at the cuffs, and I realize they’re not cheap dime-store fuzzy cuffs. I’m not getting out of here. I cannot believe her… I mean, I did say another woman’s name in bed, but it’s not like we’re dating or anything. It was an accident –I’d appreciate just moving on with me apologizing and just not getting laid.

  Thirty minutes. I sit here for thirty minutes before I hear her front door open. “Éclair! Please come unlock me!” I shout.

  She enters the bedroom and throws a black grocery bag at the foot of the bed. Did she go shopping? She punched me in the dick and then went shopping? She takes off her pants and underwear and climbs up on the bed, and she brings her womanhood up towards my face. She must be joking! “Get your pussy out of my face! I’m not doing that for you now!”

  “Fine,” she says, and then hops off the bed and throws the grocery bag at my feet. What the hell? She pulls out a giant dildo.

  “Oh, hell no,” I say and squirm my lower half away from her, “Don’t you fucking come anywhere near me with that thing!” This is rape. This is what rape is.