Serving the Billionaire
Page 18
“Good,” he said. “Walking will be faster than calling my driver. I can’t wait that long to get you alone.”
I readjusted my scarf and pretended that I was only shivering from the cold.
Carter headed north, and I hurried to follow. Pretty soon, I was regretting my bravado. He was tall, and he walked quickly; I would have had a hard time keeping up with him even in my favorite shit-kicking boots, and in heels, it was basically impossible. And it was cold, an icy wind blowing off the Hudson. I wished he’d called his driver after all.
He glanced back and must have seen that I was struggling, because he immediately slowed his pace. “It’s not far now,” he said. “Only a few more blocks.”
“Sure,” I said. Inwardly, I was wondering what kind of billionaire walked places. I thought they took limos everywhere.
We traveled the remaining blocks in silence. Carter had his hands tucked in his coat pockets and was staring intently at the sidewalk. It was like he’d already forgotten I was there, and I was afraid to say anything and break the spell, remind him of how utterly insignificant I was. If I just kept my mouth shut, maybe he would forget. I wasn’t ready for the night to be over.
“Here we are,” he said after a few minutes, and I looked up. We were at the base of a modern glass skyscraper—the sort of building that I passed by every day, and wondered who had enough money to live there. I’d always wanted to go inside and see how the other half lived.
Now I had my chance. “You live here?” I asked. It was a stupid question, but the words spilled out of me before I could stop them. I swallowed and tried again. “I mean, I thought all billionaires lived overlooking Central Park.”
He chuckled. “Many of them do. That’s partly why I live here.” He ushered me into the lobby, an open space paneled in light wood, warmly lit and welcoming. He whisked me past the security guard and into the elevator, already waiting for us with open doors.
We went in. The doors slid shut. He took a step toward me, and another, and then he was pushing me up against the side of the elevator car and kissing me.
I clutched his coat in both hands and kissed him back. We hadn’t kissed before, and it struck me as somehow hilarious that he’d seen me topless, and made me come, and we hadn’t even kissed.
To my horror, I started giggling.
He pulled away from me, eyebrows raised. “Is something funny?”
“I’m sorry,” I gasped, covering my mouth with one hand, trying to get myself under control. “It’s just—you’re being so polite.”
He folded his arms and fixed me with a stern look, but his twitching mouth gave me him away. “Aren’t I always polite?”
“Not when you’re putting vibrators in my underpants,” I said. “I wouldn’t really call that polite.”
“I thought it was considered good manners to make a lady happy,” he said.
“I wouldn’t know,” I said. “I’m not a lady.”
His hands, still resting on my shoulders, flexed slightly, and he leaned in again and crushed his mouth against mine.
This time, I managed to stifle my giggles. I clung to him and focused on the sensation of his lips against mine; and soon I couldn’t think of anything but the delicate flicker of his tongue and the way the weight of his body pinned me against the elevator wall. His hands slid inside my unbuttoned coat and explored my body, my breasts, my hips. He pulled away from my mouth and kissed the sensitive skin behind my ear.
I moaned.
The elevator pinged, and the doors slid open.
I expected a hallway, but instead the elevator opened directly into his apartment. We stepped out into a small foyer. I looked around, curious.
“I’ll give you the tour later,” Carter said, accurately reading my expression. “Right now, I want you naked and between my sheets.”
“What about on top of them?” I asked. I didn’t have any idea where that came from. My mouth was just doing its own thing at that point; I had no control over what I was saying, and I just decided to give up and run with it.
His eyes darkened. “That works too.”
He led me down a hallway and into a large room with dark walls, a huge white bed, and a view over the Hudson to New Jersey. It was just as sumptuous as I’d imagined, but I didn’t have time for more than a quick glance before Carter had scooped me up and carried me over to the bed.
I wondered if I should squeal girlishly and protest. That seemed even more undignified than being carried, though, so I just held on to him and said nothing. He laid me down on the mattress and knelt beside me on the bed.
I was nervous.
No, scratch that: I was terrified.
It was one thing to be in the club with him, where I knew I could leave the room at any point and flee to Germaine’s office and be safe. But now I was in his territory, and I was there on his terms. And what did I even really know about him? He’d been nice to me, but niceness was easy enough to fake. We had undeniable sexual chemistry, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a sociopath. Plenty of people had chemistry with sociopaths. I’d watched something on television about how sociopaths were usually very charismatic. He probably wouldn’t murder me or anything, because it would be bad for his business. Well, assuming he got caught. Rich people probably had all sorts of ways to stay out of jail.
Sadie would kill me if I got axe-murdered.
All of those ridiculous thoughts ran through my head in a split second. And even still, there I was, lying on his bed, looking up at him, ready to take off my clothes and let him do anything to me that he wanted.
The thing was, if I didn’t have sex with Carter Sutton, I would never forgive myself.
That wasn’t entirely true. It wasn’t just the sex. It was more that if I didn’t let this happen, if I didn’t let events play out and fate run its course, I would always wonder what if. What if I’d gone home with him. What if I’d said yes.
I didn’t want to have any regrets.
So I looked up at him and smiled, and said, “What are you going to do with me now?”
“Everything,” he said, his voice rough.
I swallowed hard. Everything covered a lot of ground. I dug my fingers into the bedspread and tried to think of a witty response.
“Regan,” he said, face softening. He touched my cheek. “I want you to enjoy yourself. We won’t do anything that you don’t want to do.”
I readjusted my scarf and pretended that I was only shivering from the cold.
Carter headed north, and I hurried to follow. Pretty soon, I was regretting my bravado. He was tall, and he walked quickly; I would have had a hard time keeping up with him even in my favorite shit-kicking boots, and in heels, it was basically impossible. And it was cold, an icy wind blowing off the Hudson. I wished he’d called his driver after all.
He glanced back and must have seen that I was struggling, because he immediately slowed his pace. “It’s not far now,” he said. “Only a few more blocks.”
“Sure,” I said. Inwardly, I was wondering what kind of billionaire walked places. I thought they took limos everywhere.
We traveled the remaining blocks in silence. Carter had his hands tucked in his coat pockets and was staring intently at the sidewalk. It was like he’d already forgotten I was there, and I was afraid to say anything and break the spell, remind him of how utterly insignificant I was. If I just kept my mouth shut, maybe he would forget. I wasn’t ready for the night to be over.
“Here we are,” he said after a few minutes, and I looked up. We were at the base of a modern glass skyscraper—the sort of building that I passed by every day, and wondered who had enough money to live there. I’d always wanted to go inside and see how the other half lived.
Now I had my chance. “You live here?” I asked. It was a stupid question, but the words spilled out of me before I could stop them. I swallowed and tried again. “I mean, I thought all billionaires lived overlooking Central Park.”
He chuckled. “Many of them do. That’s partly why I live here.” He ushered me into the lobby, an open space paneled in light wood, warmly lit and welcoming. He whisked me past the security guard and into the elevator, already waiting for us with open doors.
We went in. The doors slid shut. He took a step toward me, and another, and then he was pushing me up against the side of the elevator car and kissing me.
I clutched his coat in both hands and kissed him back. We hadn’t kissed before, and it struck me as somehow hilarious that he’d seen me topless, and made me come, and we hadn’t even kissed.
To my horror, I started giggling.
He pulled away from me, eyebrows raised. “Is something funny?”
“I’m sorry,” I gasped, covering my mouth with one hand, trying to get myself under control. “It’s just—you’re being so polite.”
He folded his arms and fixed me with a stern look, but his twitching mouth gave me him away. “Aren’t I always polite?”
“Not when you’re putting vibrators in my underpants,” I said. “I wouldn’t really call that polite.”
“I thought it was considered good manners to make a lady happy,” he said.
“I wouldn’t know,” I said. “I’m not a lady.”
His hands, still resting on my shoulders, flexed slightly, and he leaned in again and crushed his mouth against mine.
This time, I managed to stifle my giggles. I clung to him and focused on the sensation of his lips against mine; and soon I couldn’t think of anything but the delicate flicker of his tongue and the way the weight of his body pinned me against the elevator wall. His hands slid inside my unbuttoned coat and explored my body, my breasts, my hips. He pulled away from my mouth and kissed the sensitive skin behind my ear.
I moaned.
The elevator pinged, and the doors slid open.
I expected a hallway, but instead the elevator opened directly into his apartment. We stepped out into a small foyer. I looked around, curious.
“I’ll give you the tour later,” Carter said, accurately reading my expression. “Right now, I want you naked and between my sheets.”
“What about on top of them?” I asked. I didn’t have any idea where that came from. My mouth was just doing its own thing at that point; I had no control over what I was saying, and I just decided to give up and run with it.
His eyes darkened. “That works too.”
He led me down a hallway and into a large room with dark walls, a huge white bed, and a view over the Hudson to New Jersey. It was just as sumptuous as I’d imagined, but I didn’t have time for more than a quick glance before Carter had scooped me up and carried me over to the bed.
I wondered if I should squeal girlishly and protest. That seemed even more undignified than being carried, though, so I just held on to him and said nothing. He laid me down on the mattress and knelt beside me on the bed.
I was nervous.
No, scratch that: I was terrified.
It was one thing to be in the club with him, where I knew I could leave the room at any point and flee to Germaine’s office and be safe. But now I was in his territory, and I was there on his terms. And what did I even really know about him? He’d been nice to me, but niceness was easy enough to fake. We had undeniable sexual chemistry, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t a sociopath. Plenty of people had chemistry with sociopaths. I’d watched something on television about how sociopaths were usually very charismatic. He probably wouldn’t murder me or anything, because it would be bad for his business. Well, assuming he got caught. Rich people probably had all sorts of ways to stay out of jail.
Sadie would kill me if I got axe-murdered.
All of those ridiculous thoughts ran through my head in a split second. And even still, there I was, lying on his bed, looking up at him, ready to take off my clothes and let him do anything to me that he wanted.
The thing was, if I didn’t have sex with Carter Sutton, I would never forgive myself.
That wasn’t entirely true. It wasn’t just the sex. It was more that if I didn’t let this happen, if I didn’t let events play out and fate run its course, I would always wonder what if. What if I’d gone home with him. What if I’d said yes.
I didn’t want to have any regrets.
So I looked up at him and smiled, and said, “What are you going to do with me now?”
“Everything,” he said, his voice rough.
I swallowed hard. Everything covered a lot of ground. I dug my fingers into the bedspread and tried to think of a witty response.
“Regan,” he said, face softening. He touched my cheek. “I want you to enjoy yourself. We won’t do anything that you don’t want to do.”
