Very Bad Billionaires (9 page)

Chapter 3

FRANCESCA

I'm not on speaking terms with Emmalee, so I've been ignoring her calls since that so-called date at the restaurant. But she's been ringing incessantly the whole day, and I've finally had enough.

I grab my cell phone, swiping furiously. "What?" I bark down the line.

"H-hi, Francesca," Emmalee says sheepishly. It's her usual tone, so I'm not too bothered yet. Oh boy, do I have a surprise in store. "How are you doing?"

"Calling to grovel?" I ask with a syrupy sweet voice and I can feel her discomfort across the line. It makes me feel good, knowing she's embarrassed about what happened.

"Aaaaactually," she begins nervously, and my blood becomes ever so slightly colder in my veins. Because her tone is a bit strange, and I'm really not in the mood for whatever she's going to tell me.

"Well?" I ask impatiently. "Would you spit it out already?"

Emmalee clears her throat meaningfully while I'm rapidly losing my patience. When I'm just about to scold her again, she finally gets to the point.

"Have you seen Hello! today?" she asks hesitantly.

I scan the magazines at my bedside table, which I haven't gotten to yet, too busy with my beauty ritual to check for mentions of my mail. My assistant usually does that for me, but it's her day off today.

"I haven't," I say, my tone warning her to be careful where she treads. "Am I in it?" I immediately perk up at the prospect of being mentioned in a tabloid - I always like seeing my name in the press.

"Oh," Emmalee chirps on the other side, giggling nervously. "Well, there's an interview in it ... with Kaiden. Don't get too upset, okay?"

"Upset?" I laugh it off. "Why would I be upset? Like I give a fuck about that guy."

But I can't deny the fact I'm already searching the stack of magazines until I see the familiar logo. Pulling the magazine out, I flip the pages until I come across a full-page photo of a smiling Kaiden.

Son of a bitch.
Of course he got a full-page portrait.

I bet the journalist was a single female, clenching her legs to stop her urge to jump his bones as she took down his answers for the interview.

My eyes scan the article as Emmalee goes on and on, talking my ear off. Not that I hear a thing, especially as my eyes end up on a specific question on the bottom of the page.

How are you enjoying New York City? Any girls you have your eye on?
asks the journalist.

And here is his response:
Oh, most definitely. I've had a few flings here and there, you know, boys will be boys. (chuckle) But I have my eye on someone, for sure.

And who might that lucky lady be?
Ha! You can almost smell the jealousy coming out of her mouth, wanting to keep Kaiden for herself, probably.

You might've heard of a little lady called Francesca DeMarco. She's quite popular in your fashion column, I believe. But from what I've heard, she's definitely not like the prissy princesses of the Upper East Side. I hear she's quite [censored] and she likes to [censored], even with a few people at a time. So yeah, you could definitely say I'm interested! I think she's pretty kinky.

I hear a shrill scream ring out through the room, and unlike those clichéd people in books, I am well aware that it's mine. I can also hear Emmalee shouting something over the phone, but I've already cut the line and torn the article to pieces, paying special attention to the photo of Kaiden.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid fucker!" I scream loudly, stomping around my bedroom loudly and groaning as I imagine my super strict father reading that article. I want to sink five feet down in the ground, but that's not about to happen.

Not until I'm finished with a certain
Kaiden Hunter
.

Even though I'm fuming angry, I know full well I can't just storm out of the apartment. I'm sure there are a bunch of paparazzi waiting for me, and I'm not about to be photographed in a state of disarray, especially not courtesy of Hunter.

I get ready in a rush, but with my usual carefulness. I pick out an outfit put together by my stylist (if anyone asks, I don't have one. And if you tell, I will cut your fingers off one by one. I'm serious) and add my signature scent, Chanel Chance.

Throwing on some dainty jewelry and doing my hair and makeup, I check out my appearance in the mirror.

With my bedroom waves - which actually take half an hour to create - my striped top and A-line black mini, I look like a Parisian. After a short thought, I apply some red lipstick and throw on my tortoiseshell cat-eye sunglasses.

I chose some red pumps, grab my Chanel bag and am out of the door in a hurry.

Don't mind the fact it took me an hour and a half to get ready.

Emmalee keeps calling me, so I finally answer, needing Hunter's address anyway. From the way her voice sounds when she gives it to me, I'm pretty certain she slept with him, which is the reason why she recites the address to me immediately.

I love Emma, but she's
such
a slut. For a quiet girl, she sure gets around a lot.

Indeed, there's a flurry of photographers waiting for me, and they take a few snaps as I jump in a cab. I didn't have time to call my driver, so I scoot on the edge of the seat in the car, but not before wiping it with a baby wipe.

The cab driver gives me a look in the rearview mirror, which I promptly ignore, but he's obviously one for conversation. "Dressed to kill," he whistles, and I roll my eyes.

He keeps chattering about something or other, which goes on and on and
on
for half an hour before we make it to Brooklyn. Who even
lives
in Brooklyn?

I pay the driver handsomely, and he thanks me profusely, which I wave off. I stand in front of Hunter's apartment building for a while, getting ready to pull his heart out through his throat.

Then, finally, I set out inside, flash a smile at the doorman, who even walks me to Hunter's door and take a deep breath before pressing the doorbell with purpose.

"Coming," he calls groggily from the inside, but I don't let go of the doorbell.

"For fuck's sake, would you just ..." He starts unlocking the door, grumbling something under his breath, and I cross my arms in front of me, tapping my foot impatiently.

He opens the door finally, and he's shirtless.

I gawk. Fuck, I admit I do, because he's like a marble statue.
Delicious.

"Eyes up here, princess," he says with a smirk, and I raise my flushed cheeks to his face. He's wearing jeans, low-slung on his hips, and that perpetual fucking smirk that makes me crazy, as much as I don't want to admit it.

"Well well well," he says, grinning widely and crossing his arms in front of his body, mimicking me. But he makes sure to flex to show off his muscles, the jerk. "What a nice surprise this is!"

Chapter 4

FRANCESCA

I curse out loud and shove him to the side, walking into his flat, steam probably rising off of my skin.

Oh, wait. That's his skin, because apparently he just got out of the shower. There's a shower on the floor and his hair is soaking wet. There are even a few droplets of water on his chest.

Yum.

No! Not yum.

"I take it you saw the article," he says lazily, strolling inside after me and closing the door after he enters.

"You bet your ass I saw it," I scream out loud, not caring about my tone or my volume. He raises his hands in the air defensively, but that smirk is still present on his damn chiseled face. "What the hell were you thinking?" I snarl at him, ready to claw his face off for what he said.

"I was just being honest," he feigns innocence. "If anything, I should think you would be flattered - I did pay you a compliment, after all, didn't I?"

"A compliment!" I shriek loudly, and he makes a theatric gesture to cover his ears, as if I'm really that loud. Okay, so my family is Italian, but I know how to keep it down.

Not that I'm about to do that now, or today, for that matter.

"You said I was kinky! You said I did threesomes and God knows what else that got censored," I whimper angrily, waving my fists in the air while he fights back laughter.

"Isn't it true?" he asks innocently, looking me straight in the eye and raising his eyebrows, only tempting me further to smash his teeth in.

"NO!" I scream at him at the top of my voice, waving my arms around. "Not at all! I'm a perfectly ... perfectly presentable member of the society, unlike you - thank you very much!"

"I wouldn't say you're
perfectly
presentable," he says with a chuckle and points to my chest. Enraged, I look down and horror overtakes me. My pretty draped top has somehow moved to the side and exposed my whole boob - thankfully in a pretty bra.

I growl angrily, and I've finally had enough. I throw myself at Kaiden, nails out, ready to draw blood.

He walks backwards trying to get me off of him, and I realize too late that he's leading us directly into his bedroom. And I make another lunge for it, which ends up sending us right on his king sized bed with - oh,
fuck
, incredibly soft sheets.

What thread count is that?
I wonder distractedly.

Just then, Kaiden clasps my hands in his and as much as I wave them around, I can't move an inch in his grip. I realize I'm basically on top of him, pretty much straddling him a moment too late.

Because the next second, our eyes meet and I'm immediately hit by such a red-hot attraction I nearly topple over the bed.

Kaiden's gaze is burning with desire when it meets mine, hot and steaming, letting me know he wants me, plain and simple.
No words needed.

I gasp pathetically as I feel his cock stirring directly under me, in a spot that might just drive me crazy ... And then he pushes himself up on his elbows and his lips are locked on mine in the next moment.

He kisses like a maniac, all hot and cold.

One moment, his tongue is darting in my mouth and claiming it possessively, the next, he's biting my lip shyly and gently like we're in the third grade.

But fuck, it feels good ... His burning hot lips feel too good to resist, and before I can stop myself, I'm responding to his kiss, deepening it, claiming him with the same desire he has for me.

"Knew you wanted me," he moans against my lips, and I immediately smack the side of his face while he grins wildly at me. "You don't kiss like a prude," he finds out loud.

"Oh, and I look like one?" I roll my eyes, lowering my lips against his once again, determined to convince him I am anything but.

He plays with me, torturing me with his tongue, making me think I won't be able to kiss anyone else without thinking of him first ... Which I'm pretty sure is about right.

Finally, I break our kiss, realizing what we just did. I look at him with horror, his devilishly handsome face grinning back at me, tempting for me to slap him.

"Fuck," I say softly, moving away from him while things are still relatively innocent. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I repeat over and over again, remembering my resolve to give Kaiden a piece of my mind.

Note I said mind, not ass.

He gets up along with me and tries to grab my hand, but I move it out of his touch.

"I should go," I mutter to myself, already grabbing my jacket and purse, moving out of the bedroom to the living room where I left them.

I notice in the meantime his apartment is definitely a bachelor pad, but a classy one at that. He has it clean and modern, probably a designer's work. But some pretty interesting artwork hangs on the wall, and I'd like to imagine he picked the pieces himself.

Nevertheless, I need to leave.

"Scared?" he taunts me. "One kiss, and you're gone. Didn't think I was that scary."

I roll my eyes immediately, which is becoming an instinct when I'm around him. I try to dodge him, but he keeps walking right behind me, and I'm mainly afraid he'll hear the beat of my heart, which is very loud indeed.

Because that kiss ... Oh, God, that kiss was
everything
.

"Bye, Kaiden," I say softly, turning around. His face is still plastered with a grin all over it, but he seems a little ... disappointed.

Sure. I bet he thought I'd end up in his bed, without my clothes on. At least I managed to keep
some
dignity.

But looking at him, I can't help doing what I do next. Which is stepping on my tiptoes and pressing a soft kiss against his lips.

Just a gesture,
I tell myself.

But the unsteady beat of my heart hammering in my chest as I run down the stairs lets me down it's definitely something more ... Or could be, if I let it.

Which I'm not about to.

Chapter 5

KAIDEN

As soon as she leaves, I curse out loud, feeling frustrated. I had her right there, in my bed, panting, wanting my kiss just as much as I wanted hers. Yet I let her go, and once again, my cock is stiff with the thought of her, but I have no one to take care of it.

I swear, this girl is going to drive me crazy.

I try to go about my day like everything's okay and perfectly normal, but I can't help but think of her most of the time.

I'll be shopping for groceries, and the lobster in the seafood aisle will remind me of what she ordered for lunch on our double date, never getting to her food because I chased her off.

I get a haircut and I stare in the mirror, imagining she's by my side, her long luscious locks twined between my fingers.

Everything I do, she invades my mind, demanding attention, her mouth pouty and just asking for me to punish it with a deep kiss.

I keep replaying what happened in my bedroom, the way she straddled me, immediately rousing my cock from what felt like a lifetime of napping. I think of her lips, so firm yet so soft, the way her breasts rubbed against my hard chest.

Fuck, the thought alone could get me hard in a minute.

That is how the rest of my week goes. Francesca is always on my mind in one way or another, but what shocks me most is the fact I don't fuck another girl.

I don't go on a single date. I even decline Angus' invitation to come clubbing with the guys, which would surely score me a star struck girl.

All I do is mope around my apartment, occasionally stalking her private Facebook profile (which I've sent a friend request to a week ago, and she promptly ignored it). Unfortunately, she has it pretty much locked up, and staring at her microscopic profile photo on my iMac doesn't do much for me.

I go as far as buying a magazine that advertises a fashion feature with her, flipping impatiently to the photos of her.

She's dressed in a short, vintage-looking floral dress in one of the photos and it quickly becomes one of my favorites. It's a candid shot, and for once, her lips are not pouty, but smiling widely.

I'm sure she hates this photo with all of her heart, because it shows more of her real side. And I've already come to realize, Francesca is all about being as perfect as she can be.

That night, a week or so later, I have a movie premiere to go to.

It's my mother's newest movie, some silly romantic comedy with erotic elements. And trust me, I have better things to do with my time than watch my mother in various compromising poses, but her agent is insisting I come along.

Not that she'll have time for me of course - mother dearest will be busy with the photographers, posing for photos and answering questions. I'm sure I'll get my fair deal of attention as well, though.

I briefly contemplate asking Francesca to join me, but it would be too awkward. She's made it plain and simple to me that she doesn't want anything to do with me.

Whether I'll always be so compliant is another thing, though.

I get ready for the premiere in the last minute, choosing a tux from my closet with some fancy Italian label. My hair is still shaved at the sides and longer on top, which I'm sure my traditional-sex-scene-shooting-movie-star mother will hate.

My driver is waiting downstairs, as well as a few photographers who shout my name and take my photo. I give a friendly wave, since I'm feeling in a good mood, then get in the car.

We're at the venue soon enough, and immediately, a swarm of photographers crowds our car. I get out, pulling down my sunglasses since it's still light out, flashing my smile at the people waiting to me.

An assistant immediately takes my hand and pulls me towards the red carpet, which is already star-studded with many big movie names.

"Kaiden! Kaiden, over here!"

The shouts tune out everything else in my mind and I pose for some photos, the white noise finally managing to block the thought of Francesca out of my mind.

That is until I find myself standing directly next to her.

She's dressed in a soft pink dress that accentuates her hair and eyes beautifully, her body a delight in the dress which is skin tight on top and flows seamlessly down to the floor. It would be perfectly respectable, were it not for the thigh high split in one side, revealing her perfectly toned legs.

"Fuck," I curse under my breath.

"Kaiden! Who has your attention, Kaiden? Who are you looking at?"

For once, I decide to ignore my mother's warnings to keep all my relationships off the red carpet. Instead, I listen to my heart, which is telling me one thing and one thing only.

Go to Francesca.

As if in a trance, I walk over to her, and she spots me when I'm a few steps away. Just seeing her beautiful face makes mine light up and I stare at her as a slow grin spreads over my face.

"You look nice," I say softly when I come close enough, and I can tell the photographers are going crazy, snapping so many photos of us, we'll probably be the highlight of this premiere, when the focus should really be on my mother.

"You clean up nice," she retorts, smiling shyly. And I live for that fucking smile, her full lips pulling upwards at the corners, like she can't quite help herself.

"What are you doing here?" I ask.

"I was invited," she says defensively, like I've accused her of crashing her party. "It's good publicity, you know."

I nod with a wide smile. "Want to sit next to me?" I offer lamely, immediately cursing in my head for sounding like some third grader.

She stifles back a smile, and looks at me regretfully. "I thought our seats were assigned."

"Hey, my Mom's a movie star," I say conspiratorially. "I'm pretty sure I can pull a few strings."

Her eyes dart sideways for a moment, where a group of giggling girls her age are standing. I can tell she came with them, and she's contemplating whether she should stick to her plan or come with me, like I suggested.

I cross my fingers behind my back.

"Okay," she finally says, offering me a small smile.

And that just about makes my day.