A Billionaire's Game (Ellsworth Brothers #2) (4 page)

Sheepishly Drake looked down at her and like an idiot
said, “Babe, you’re on the pill. I saw them in your bathroom.”

“Yes, that’s true,” she hissed, “but that doesn’t protect
against the skank you banged last night, does it?”

With a hard look on his face he answered, “I don’t sleep
with just any pussy. I’m choosy about my pussy. And I don’t screw around with
pregnancy either. The last thing this world and my life needs is a mini-me. I
take that shit seriously.”

“Well, thank god for that. You deserve a medal.”

Jill furiously pulled her gown back up her torso and
twisted in an effort to zip it back up. Calmly, Drake turned her body, zipped
the dress all the way up and planted a kiss on the nape of her neck.

Angrily, Jill turned, glanced out from their hiding place
and saw that the coast was clear. She walked as quickly as the narrow dress
would allow up the staircase to the upstairs lounge.

Drake on the other hand reached to the floor, picked up
his jacket, noticed an off-white tiny slip of silk on the carpet. Grinning to
himself he picked up the G-string and stuffed it in the pocket of his pants.

Two weeks later on a Monday afternoon Jill was wheeling
her white Trek bike out of her apartment on her way to work. She’d packed some
food to have for dinner as she always did. Today was leftover chili she’d made
the week before. She packed her messenger bag with the essentials: her purse,
dinner, an apple and crossword puzzle to work on during her break.

Jill was a credit telemarketing debt collector who called
people who owed massive amounts of money on a credit card. She actually liked
her job. It gave her an opportunity to talk to people who were down on their
luck financially, and offer some assistance as well as a wake-up call.

Her dream was to open a credit counseling non-profit
organization that taught folks how to manage money and still be able to
survive. Her co-workers described her as the debt whisperer because she was
just that good. There were always collection quotas to meet monthly, and she
always made them with room to spare.

Living in downtown Minneapolis made it easy for her to
navigate her community by bike. In the winter, however, she broke down and took
the city bus. Either way it gave her the freedom to live her life without the
need of an automobile.

Most of her friends and family couldn’t fathom living life
without a car; but for her, it worked. She made enough money to support her
lifestyle and enjoy life. Growing up she had watched her parents suffer from
the inability to handle money and, as a result, when the end of the month came,
the cupboards were often bare. She vowed then and there at the age of nine to
never spend beyond her means.

Her phone buzzed as she locked her apartment door. She
glanced down at the screen and saw Drake Ellsworth’s name appear. She wondered
what in the heck he wanted. They had not spoken since the wedding and she was
still pissed at him for not using a condom when they’d had their quickie during
the reception. But, she had relented a bit, realizing that having a condom was
just as much her responsibility as it was his.

He’d been trying to apologize for the last two weeks.
Thinking that she’d put him off long enough she decided to answer.

“What,” Jill said flatly.

“And a good day to you.”

“What you do want, Drake? I’m busy.”

“Relax, gorgeous. I just wanted to check on you and see
when we could… you know… get together again. I could stop by your place.…”

“You really think I’m going to invite you into my home and
my bed after what happened at the wedding?” she said, seething.

“Hey, I’m sorry about that. I was a jerk….”

“Drake, I’ll have to call you back. I’m on my way to
work.”

“What? I can’t hear you,” Drake replied impatiently. Jill
was outside, and the noise from the busy street filtered through the phone
connection. Horns blared, cars raced by, and people were shouting to each other
across the street. Jill plugged her left ear with her finger and balanced her
bike against her hip as she tried impatiently to end the call.

“Drake. Can you hear me now? I have to go.”

“I want to see you again.”

“Oh… I don’t know if that is such a good idea. Maybe we
should just leave things as they are and move on with our lives? Listen, I
really have to go.”

“I’ll let you go if you promise me one thing.”

“Drake,” she said with a sigh and drew out his name in a
long breath.

“Let me see you one more time and redeem myself.”

“I don’t know.”

“Just leave everything to me. I promise it’ll be good.”

“Fine.”

“That’s what I wanted to hear. Now you go do that work
thing, and I’ll be in touch.”

The call ended, and Jill put the phone into the outside
pocket of her messenger bag. She blew out a breath and mumbled under her
breath, “What have I gotten myself into now?” She lifted her right leg up and
over the seat of her bike and cruised down the sidewalk and into the bike lane
on the street.

Arriving at work, Jill pulled open the heavy door at the
entrance of the old warehouse where she worked. She wheeled her bike down the
corridor to the suite they occupied. Four of her co-workers were leaving,
having just completed their shifts. They greeted each other in passing, and the
clicking of Jill’s bike filled the office. Her co-worker Nate leaned his head
out from his cubicle.

“Hey, J-dub. What is shaking on this fine day?”

Jill grinned and replied her usual answer, “You know it’s
the ass my momma gave me.”

Nate hooted with laughter and turned back to his computer.

Jill parked her bike in the break room and walked back to
her cubicle to turn on her computer, put on her headset, and start calling
clients.

Time passed quickly for Jill when she worked. She spoke to
a young father with three kids who had just lost his wife to cancer. He had no
idea how he was going to make things work, not only with money, but how to
raise his family without their mother.

On several other calls the person who answered insisted
Jill had the wrong number and hung up. She’d call them back in a few days.

At the end of her shift she gathered her personal items,
repacked her messenger bag and went to get her bike to ride home. The trek home
was much quieter since there were fewer cars on the road. Jill enjoyed the peacefulness.

Thankfully, the elevator in her apartment building was
working so she didn’t have to heft her bike up three flights of stairs. She
exited the elevator, took out her keys, and walked toward her apartment door.
There was an odd smell wafting from her unit.

“What the hell,” she said aloud. She inserted her key in
the door only to discover the door was unlocked. Cautiously she swung the door
open and stopped open-mouthed at the scene before her.

The room was darkened but what seemed like hundreds of
candles lit the living room and dining room. Her dining table was set with a
huge silver candelabra and two place settings of china and crystal goblets. A
bottle of red wine sat on the table breathing.

“What in the…”

“Gorgeous! You’re here! Welcome home.”

“How did you get in my apartment?”

“Let’s just say that money opens doors. And before you get
upset with your landlord, he stayed in the apartment with me while the caterers
were making preparations so he knew that we weren’t stealing anything or trying
to kidnap you.”

Grimacing, Jill pulled the strap over her head and dropped
the messenger bag on the floor beside her.

“This is crazy. What on earth made you do this?”

“I wanted to prove to you that I’m not a schmuck and an
asshole. So, come and take a load off and enjoy this fantastic meal prepared
especially for you. We’re having Italian tonight. The bread is just coming out
of the oven, so your timing is perfect.”

A man in a white chef’s coat and hat emerged from the
kitchen and placed a salad at each place, went back to the kitchen and returned
with a basket of bread covered in a red and white checked towel. The final
delivery was that of the main course, a rich and savory lasagna.

Drake stood behind one of the chairs he’d pulled away from
the table and motioned for her to come and sit.

As if in a daze, Jill did as she was directed. The chef
opened the linen napkin and laid it gently on her lap.

“May I pour the lady some wine?”

Drake interrupted, “No need Louie, I’ll take care of that.
Please return in the morning to clean up at about…” Drake paused and looked to
Jill. “How does 11 a.m. sound?”

“Uh…that’s fine, I guess,” Jill replied uncertainly.

“11 a.m. it is sir, Mr. Ellsworth.” The chef bowed,
gathered his things and left the apartment.

When they were alone, Drake took the bottle of wine and
filled both of their crystal goblets. He sat in his chair across the small
table, raised his glass and proposed a toast.

“To unbroken promises and second chances.”

Jill raised her goblet and gently they clinked the two
glasses together before they both took a taste of the ruby red elixir.

“So this is what it tastes like to be rich,” Jill said.
Drake just smiled at her over the rim of his goblet.

”A 2012 Clos de Vougeot,” Drake said lovingly as he held
his goblet up to the light.

“Oh, so in other words, expensive.”

“Nah. It probably only cost about $300,” Drake answered
with a shrug.

Her mouth full of wine, Jill reacted by spitting the wine
forcefully out of her mouth and watched as a spray of ruby red droplets became
airborne and landed on Drake’s face, neck and chest. He stopped, put down his
glass and with his index finger rubbed some wine out of the corner of his eye.
“That’s not the reaction I usually get,” he said quietly, shaking his head.

Horrified, Jill jumped out of her chair and ran to Drake’s
side, her napkin clutched in her hand. “Oh my God! I am so, so sorry. Here let
me do that,” she said to him as he began to wipe his face with his own napkin.
He dropped his hands into his lap and allowed her to take over the clean up.

 
“Are you okay?
I feel terrible.” She put her fingers under his chin lifting it up so she could
wipe the droplets from his neck. Drake stuck out his tongue and ran it over the
edges of his lips, drinking in as much as he could.

“Oh geez. It’s even all over your shirt.” Jill began to
unbutton it without realizing what she was doing. In an instant she froze and
her fingers stilled. Her eyes moved upward and saw his eyes locked on her face.
“I guess you should… you could take your own…” She was cut off as Drake pulled
her tightly to him, and his lips took hers in a wanting kiss.

Panting, they broke apart and looked into each other’s
eyes. Jill leaned forward, put her hands on the nape of his neck and pulled him
toward her to continue the kiss. Their passion exploded.

Rising from his chair, Drake lowered their bodies onto the
carpet, his body on top of hers. Their need escalated quickly. Jill scratched
her fingernails up and down his muscled back, and she pulled the bottom of his
shirt free from his dress pants. She ran her hands up inside his shirt. His
skin was hot to the touch.

Drake’s hands explored Jill’s torso, finally moving his
hands up to palm her breasts. They were both panting.

“Let me sit up,” she begged. Drake complied and watched as
she pulled her t-shirt up and over her head. He drew in the sight of her
breasts encased in white lace. His hands reached around her back to unfasten
the bra when she shook her head and explained, “It opens in the front.”

Drake smiled wickedly, running his hands over her breasts
to access the clip in between the two luscious mounds. The lace sprang free as
the clip snapped open. He took in the sight of her breasts for what seemed like
hours to Jill when in reality it was probably only seconds.

Time seemed to move in slow motion, his mouth latched onto
one nipple and then nipped at it. His tongue trailed along her skin to the
other breast where he gave it the same attention. Meanwhile Jill attempted to
unbutton his dress shirt with only limited success.

“Drake,” she said breathily, “take your shirt off. I want
to feel you, skin on skin.”

Drake pulled back his eyes now a deep, dark blue, almost
the color of dark storm clouds. He made quick work of the buttons and pulled
the dress shirt back and off of his chest. He wore a white T-shirt underneath,
so he reached behind his head and pulled it up and off.

Jill had seen his naked chest briefly when they were in
the shower, but now, close up, she could see all the definition in his muscles;
his pecs, biceps, triceps and even his forearms. His chest had just the right
amount of hair. She ran her wandering fingers over his torso, tracing the
bulges and patterns of muscles. She sat up, bringing her bare chest in contact
with his. Her breasts pressed firmly to his body.

Immediately his arms encircled her, and he laid them back
down on the carpet. Their mouths met in deep, hungry wet kisses; his tongue
explored the depths of her mouth and teased her lips. She bit his bottom lip
gently in an effort to gain the upper hand. The action only inflamed him more,
and he moved his thick thighs in between her toned ones as he began to move his
groin over her pelvis.

“Can you feel what you do to me?” he grunted.

“You feel so good, Drake. I need you. I need you now.”
Drake didn’t need a second invitation. His hand slid over her body and went
between her legs. He pressed his fingers over the juncture of her jeans. He
rubbed and rubbed until he heard Jill gasp.

Jill fumbled her way to find the button and zipper on his
pants. She tried unsuccessfully to open his fly. Drake laughed deeply. He knew
then that he’d gained the upper hand and that Jill was now putty he could mold
any way he chose.

He sat up, his ass resting on his heels. Slowly, with his
eyes locked onto hers, he slid the zipper down its track and unbuttoned his
pants in a single motion. Jill couldn’t take her eyes off of him. His hands in
motion were mesmerizing to watch. Her eyes were momentarily distracted when he
toed off his shoes, one at a time. When he began to remove his pants and
boxers, she held her breath. Drake bent down to take off his socks.

Finally he stood naked before her: solid, muscled, and
hard in every sense of the word. Jill gasped. He was beautiful, his skin a
golden bronze without a single flaw.

Drake reached down and grabbed the base of his cock and
stroked. He was long and thick and granite hard. “Unzip your jeans,” Drake
ordered in a deep throaty voice. Jill did as ordered. It was as if she were
under a spell, and he the wizard controlling her every move.

“That’s right. Now slide them off along with those
panties.”

Scooching backwards she kicked off her shoes and socks and
then was able to peel off her jeans and thong. Drake helped only to pull her
pants free from her ankles. She was naked before him—a pagan feast.
Growling, Drake knelt above her and began kissing her stomach, her hips, then
lower to her abdomen. Jill sucked in a breath as his lips kissed her inner
thigh. She let out a breathy “yes!” Drake’s tongue extended out to touch just
the outer lips of her sex, then moved to the other side. He blew a hot burst of
air across the center.