The Hated Billionaire by Erica Frost

Chapter 12: Christina

I woke up early the next morning, stretching and feeling rested. I went to the shower and turned it on, feeling dreamy and happy. I was going to see Brett. I was thinking of him as I dried my hair and checked my reflection in the mirror carefully. My long oval face looked back at me, eyes bright and full of life. I brushed my hair until it was shiny, then went through to choose some clothes.

I settled on a good pair of jeans and a silky blouse. The pale lilac color brought out the brown of my eyes, I thought, and the fabric felt nice on my skin. I added a bit of makeup – just the barest touch of blush and mascara, just to make me look awake and alert. Then I went down to the kitchen for breakfast.

I sat there eating my cereal, thinking about just how surreal this was. I had got up this morning to get ready to see Brett Caden. For a date. I grinned to myself. How weird was that? I would never have imagined that we could even get along professionally.

I was washing the dishes when I heard someone ring the bell. I jumped, heart thudding. It was him! I ran to the intercom and pressed the button.

“Good morning?”

“Christina! It’s me! Will you unlock for me?”

“Sure,” I said. I pressed the button and felt my heart race with excitement. I looked around the room, thinking that maybe I should have cleaned thoroughly, that the couch probably could have done with a dust-off and that the corners were cobwebby.

“Hello?” Someone called, tapping lightly on the door.

I ran to the door and opened it. I stared.

Brett grinned at me shyly. His hair was brushed beautifully, and he wore a casual button-down shirt and jeans. I had never seen him dressed like that and I was amazed by the new side of him it brought out. He looked so sexy, and yet oddly approachable. Masculine, too – in a sort of hard way. I felt my stomach tighten with longing and I just wanted him so much then.

“So,” he said, his shy grin expanding as he looked around and back to me. “Good morning. This is good.” He gestured at the apartment and at me, awkwardly. “Being here, like this.”

I felt my own shy grin bloom on my lips. “Um, yeah,” I said. My stomach was tingling like I’d swallowed all the bubbly water on the planet. I grinned at him, unable to hide how joyful I felt to see him. “It’s good.”

“So,” he said again, looking around. “This is your apartment. It’s nice.”

“It is,” I said. I tried to remember manners. “Would you like to sit down?”

We were talking to each other so desperately shyly, like two schoolkids on a first date, scared to say the wrong thing and make a fool of ourselves, yet thrilled to be close. It was the most tender, beautiful feeling! I felt myself grin.

“Oh. Yeah,” he said. He grinned back at me, looking twenty years younger. He suddenly seemed an awkward teenager and I felt my heart flood with tenderness.

“I’ll make coffee. You drink coffee, yes?” I asked.

He nodded. “Yeah. Please. Have you got water?” he asked. “I mean, I’m sure you’ve got water.” He chuckled, nervously. “What am I thinking?”

“Yeah, I have water. Would you like to drink some?” I asked. He chuckled.

“Thanks. That’d be great. It was a long drive.”

“I guess it must have been,” I said. I could vaguely recall which neighborhood his apartment was in, enough to recall it was fairly far away from mine. I made the coffee and looked around for cups. I like strong coffee, and I had no idea what he liked.

“Thanks,” he said as I brought out to small cups of black coffee. I had poured milk into a measuring jug – I didn’t have a milk-jug, so I had to improvise – and brought some sugar out. He sipped his coffee without either. I grinned.

“You also drink it black.”

“Absolutely. It’s nice to feel that tingle in your toes.”

I laughed. “I know what you mean.”

I looked across at him, feeling myself relax. He was grinning easily, and it was weird how comfortable I felt. It was at once so strange to have him here, and entirely normal, like we always sat here and talked on Saturday mornings.

“About Thursday night,” Brett said. He looked at me, cheeks red.

“What about it?” I asked. I tried to sound casual, but my heart was racing, my body on fire. I didn’t know what he would say, so I waited to see.

“I hope you…I mean…I hope that you want to do that again?”

I stared at him. My heart flooded with warmth. I would never have expected him to say something like that! I smiled at him, not knowing quite what to say. I felt elated.

“Sure,” I said.

“Sure?” He was staring at me now, brown eyes wide, a surprised grin on his face. I had to chuckle.

“Brett!” I said, grinning back at him. “I think it must have been pretty clear I liked it. And you wouldn’t be here if I had been mad about it.”

“No,” he agreed. He was flushed red and I wondered if he was thinking about what we had done the previous night and how wonderful it had been. I certainly was and I looked away, embarrassed, lest he could guess my thoughts.

We sat together silently for a while in the still warmth of the morning.

“So,” he said, sipping his coffee. “How do you like it here?” He looked up at me shyly, eyes wide with inquiry.

“You mean, this apartment?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said. “This apartment, this city, this work…you know. It’s weird, how I feel I know you, even though we haven’t talked much.”

“I know what you mean.”

We smiled shyly. I cleared my throat.

“I came here from Connecticut five years ago. I had my first job there and I studied there,” I said. I left out the details – that I had worked super-hard at college; hard enough to get a paying internship that helped to pay off some of my college debt. That I had grown up in the poorest part of town and I had been no stranger to hunger and need.

“Wow. Long way from home,” he said, raising one brow.

“I guess.” I grinned. “That’s kind of what was so encouraging when the job came up.”

I hadn’t meant that to come out, but it had – somehow I almost wanted to share my past with him.

“Oh. Yeah.” He nodded, and I could see that he felt awkward, as if he’d raised a bad topic. I wanted him to feel at ease and I shifted in my seat, trying to think of something I could do to make him chill out. He beat me to it with a question. “So, what made you study finance?”

I shrugged, glad for the change of subject. “I don’t know. I guess I always liked it. Finance is like a separate world – it makes sense in a way that society doesn’t. Like, with finance, there are equations and laws and it all follows its own rules. Yeah, it sometimes looks like there are no rules, but it’s a system and in some ways it’s not difficult to follow. Not like people.”

He nodded, a frown on his brow. “Yeah,” he said. “I get that. People can be confusing sometimes, I guess.”

We smiled at each other and I felt like he understood what I meant, like he got it, at least superficially. I wondered about his own story – why he had started a publishing company for magazines, and how he’d got so successful so quickly. I was about to ask him when he cleared his throat.

“So, what do you like most about being here?” he asked.

“You mean, this city?”

“Like, right here,” he said, gesturing at the room. “Your apartment.”

“I chose it for how it looks – I really like beautiful things – but I guess I like most being able to sit in front of that window at night. The way the little lights in all the windows twinkle in the dark. It seems friendly and close, and safe.”

I hadn’t realized how much emotion was in my voice. I looked up to see him smiling at me. “That is so great,” he said sincerely. “You know, you are making me like the city.”

I giggled.

“You are a lovely person, Christina.”

I felt my throat tighten. I didn’t think anyone had ever said that. The closest anyone had come to saying that to me was Neela, and even she had never said it freely. I took a deep breath, my heart responding to his soft touch on my hands, and to the kindness in his eyes.

“Thank you,” I said. “And you are too.”

He looked away, a small smile on his lips. “I don’t know,” he said awkwardly. “But thanks.”

I felt my own heart twist and I squeezed his fingers. “Yes, you are.”

He looked into my eyes and then, without any discussion, he stood and came and sat beside me. His eyes were soft on mine.

“Christina,” he said shyly. “I hope you know that I want you.”

“You mean now?” I asked, a tingle of longing creeping up my spine, my heart thudding in my chest.

His voice was soft. “Yes.”

I felt my body heat up instantly. He rested his hand on my shoulder, his face close to mine. I felt his hand move to the back of my neck as he drew me closer.

“I hope you know that I have always wanted you,” he whispered. “Because I have, and it sure makes it impossible to resist you now.” His breath was tight in his throat and I felt my own body warm up as his lips touched mine.

I let my lips part under his and he gently pushed me back onto the couch. His body, so firm and muscled, was hard on mine as he kissed me, his knee moving between mine.

I gasped and drew him closer, and our kiss was urgent with longing. His hands were on my back, running up along my waist. I wrapped my arms around him, my fingers stroking his back as he kissed me. He moved, sitting up.

“Shall we go to your room?”

I nodded. “Yes,” I whispered.

I sat up and ran a hand through my hair, tucking it back behind my ears. I stood and went breathlessly to my bedroom, opening the door. The bed was made, and I’d put away my clothes. He looked around a moment, taking in the window with the lacey curtain, and the wardrobe.

“Christina,” he murmured.

He buried his face in my neck and I held him close, my body pressed to his. Suddenly, I wanted to go slowly, to savor his body and have him savor mine. I ran my hands down his ribs, sliding them up under his shirt, feeling his thick muscles under my skin.

He seemed to understand, because his lips went from my mouth and down, pushing me back gently onto the bed so he could kiss my breasts. I shut my eyes, letting him gently, so gently, unbutton my top and reach for my breasts.

He squeezed them gently, touching them through the fabric of my bra. I shifted on the bed, letting him reach the clasp and he undid it, then bent and put his mouth to my breast.

I gasped, as his tongue played gently over it, making me cry out. My nipple throbbed and he sucked it and I could feel the sensation running from my breasts to my stomach.

He moved lower, making a trail of kisses down my tummy and stopping at my trousers. Gently, he unbuttoned them, looking at my eyes. I grinned, letting him know I wasn’t scared.

He drew my trousers down my legs, then reached up and carefully removed my panties, leaving me unclothed. He ran a hand up, parting my legs, and his fingers stroked my warm folds. I shut my eyes, gasping, as he buried his face in them. His tongue was warm and questing, seeking out the nodule between and I tried to control my gasps as he gently bit and teased it with his tongue.

I couldn’t lie still, my body pushing against him, wanting him and wanting more, and more…He licked me and I cried out, feeling my climax wash through me, way earlier than anticipated.

He looked up, and his eyes shone, like he thought he’d done something clever. I had to smile. He was clearly so pleased with himself and I reached for him, drawing him up the bed. I ran my hand down his chest, moving to unzip his trousers.

He watched me and I wanted to laugh as he grinned, helping me undo them. I pulled them awkwardly down his muscled thighs. I hastily undid his shirt, and he helpfully withdrew his arms from the sleeves, leaving himself clad only in his boxers. I pulled them off, unable to stop myself staring admiringly at his manhood, but he blushed and I felt myself smile as I looked away.

I reached for it, taking it in my fingers and then in my mouth. He gasped and tensed as I sucked. I could feel his body responding and I wasn’t sure what he wanted, but he gently gripped my arm, drawing me up to beside him.

“I want to be inside,” he said.

I nodded and let him roll me onto my back and watched him kneel between my legs, his own face frowning in concentration as he rubbed himself against me, slipping in the wetness on my legs. I parted my thighs and he slid into me. I cried out at the fullness.

He was big, but just right. He rubbed against the special spots inside me and I could feel my longing grow as he drew out and pushed in again. He was gasping, and I was gasping too, my legs gripping him as he moved into me, wanting more of him as he thrust and gasped and thrust.

He knelt up, altering the angle of his thrusting and I cried aloud, unable to contain the sensations that were running through my body, making me light up inside, making my body focus only on itself, my nerves and muscles tingling and throbbing as he pushed into me again and again and again.

He was moving faster, and I could feel how tense he was, and I was just as tense, my arms stiff and my legs wrapped around him as he plunged, moving faster and faster.

I cried out for a second time, unable to hold back, and he cried out too, then rested on top of me. I wrapped my arms around him, holding him close, his body weight feeling good as he lay there, my body fully and completely relaxed below him as we lay together, arms wrapped around each other.

I was almost asleep, but he rolled off me and gently drew the blankets up. He lay beside me, his arms around me, and I rested my head beside his on the pillow. I held him close, my body feeling better than if I’d slept for a year.

He rolled onto his side, and I rolled so that his arms wrapped me close, drawing my chest against him, our bodies so close that even the sheet seemed thick in comparison to the space between us. He was sleeping, and my own breath started to match the rhythm of his as I drifted off to sleep.

I held him and felt better than I could ever remember feeling before.