CLAIMED (By the Alpha Billionaire #2) (2 page)

Sawyer

Maisie stood in the doorway of the bathroom as she toweled off, her wet hair dripping down her curved shoulders. It’d been a long time since I showered with anyone, and I’d forgotten how fun it could be.

I stepped into the walk in closet and pulled a plain, white button down shirt for her. “Here, wear this for now. I’ll send my assistant out to get you some new clothes for the rest of the week.”

She let the towel drop to the floor, and I couldn’t remove my eyes from her sexy, curve-filled body. Maisie was all woman. My dick throbbed just thinking about how good it felt to be inside her earlier.

“I have to run into the office,” I said. “I need to finish up a few things, and I’ve got a conference call.”

“Sawyer,” she said as she buttoned up my shirt. She looked so damn sexy wearing my shirt. “It’s fine. I’ll be fine. Go do what you need to do.”

“Just text me a list of everything you need. When I come back tonight, I’ll bring it with me,” I said.

She bit her lip and nodded, stifling a smile.

“Help yourself to whatever’s in the kitchen. Watch TV. Relax. Make yourself at home.” I stepped toward her, leaning in to kiss her. I breathed her in, and even though she smelled like me, like my soap, I still found her utterly intoxicating. “Get lots of rest, Mouthy. I’ve got big plans for you tonight.”

***

I returned that evening, bags in hand. My assistant had run out and gathered as many makeup and toiletry and clothing items as she possibly could.

“Maisie?” I called out, dropping the bags in the foyer as soon as I stepped off the elevator.

She came from around the corner, a wild look in her eyes I’d never seen before. She looked like she wanted to kill me. This was not the woman I’d fucked earlier that day nor was she the broken little feisty bird I’d met at the bar the night before.

“Everything okay?” I asked, confused.

“We need to talk,” she said, one hand on her curved hip as her eyes shot daggers my way.

Maisie

Everything was going well. The second Sawyer left, I threw myself onto the middle of his enormous bed and replayed our little fuck session in my mind a few times, getting myself all worked up again, but not allowing myself to release it in any way. I wanted to save all my sexual energy for that night.

And then I got bored.

That’s when I decided to roam his house. Look around a little…

Which was when I found the woman’s clothes in his closet and the makeup collection in the bathroom drawer and the pictures of the blonde woman who looked almost identical to me.

Okay, I told myself. So he has a type. No big deal. Lots of people have types.

But it was the jewelry collection. A wide assortment of emeralds and rubies and topaz and diamond jewelry, locked up in their closet and displayed like the pieces of art they were. No woman would ever leave a man and not take her jewelry or leave the vast majority of her crazy expensive wardrobe hanging in his closet.

I was a lot of things, but I wasn’t a home wrecker. I’d never have sex with a taken man, and I’d never be the other woman, even if only for a few days.

I stewed all afternoon, trying to piece everything together, but none of it made sense. That’s when I finally Googled him. I hadn’t wanted to know much about him. The mystery was sexy. But now I had to know exactly what I’d gotten myself into.

I typed “Sawyer Thomas” into the search engine, and on the right hand side popped up a little box with his picture. The picture seemed to be a little outdated, but it was still undeniably him.

It listed his full name with a link to his Wikipedia page, the names of his parents, and then where it said, “spouse”, it listed, “Alexandria Thomas” and said they got married in 2012. My thumb hovered over the blue link next to her name, and my heart thumped rapidly in my chest. I’d just slept with this woman’s husband! He’d been inside me. In their bed. He tied me up and controlled every inch of my body, placing his mouth in my most intimate areas. Where was she?! Did she know her husband did these things?!

This poor, poor woman.

But that’s when I heard Sawyer calling my name.

“Maisie!” he yelled from the foyer. I sat my phone down and stomped in his direction. His face fell when he saw the look on mine. “Everything okay?”

“We need to have a talk,” I said, my hand on my hip as the other one gripped my phone.

Countless shopping bags lined the area around his feet as he stood staring at me, his brows furrowed. “Okay?”

“Who the hell is Alexandria and why is all her stuff here?” I demanded to know. “You’re fucking married, Sawyer?! You fly me here with you and you’re married?!”

His hands flew to his temples, massaging them as he breathed out in frustration. “Maisie…”

“There’s no excuse for this, Sawyer,” I said. I crossed my arms. “This is disgusting. I feel sick to my stomach right now. I’m not this kind of woman. God, Sawyer, and we even look alike. Nice.”

Sawyer shook his head, unable to respond.

“You were fucking me and your wife is God knows where?”

He lifted his head, our eyes meeting from across the foyer. “Six feet under.”

“Wait…what?”

“She died last year,” he said. “Cancer.”

Shit. Fuck. Wow. “Oh, my God, Sawyer.”

My hand flew to my chest. I felt like the world’s biggest asshole.

“After everything that’s happened with me the last couple days…I guess I was just being hyper vigilant. I just assumed that…” I tried to defend my terrible accusation, but I couldn’t. There was no excuse. “I’m sorry.”

His full lips pursed and he gave a quick nod before brushing past me and entering the depths of his spacious penthouse.

Sawyer

I just wanted to escape. I just wanted to forget about my pain for a while. I wasn’t usually in the business of fucking strange women, but she made me laugh. She was, in a weirdly irritating yet sexy sort of way, a breath of fresh air. She amused me with her spunk and her personality and her quick wit. Sure, she looked like my Alexandria, but that was beside the point.

It was almost as if Alexandria was trying to tell me to move on. The previous day, when I met Maisie at the bar, was the one year anniversary of my wife’s passing. Somehow my plane just happened to break down over some small town in Missouri, and I just happened to meet this spunky little thing at the only hotel bar in town who just happened to look like the twin of my late wife. It couldn’t have been any more poignant than that.

I flew past Maisie and retreated into my office, trying to drown myself in a few work priorities. I’d planned on taking Maisie out for dinner that night, and I’d had my assistant pick her up a hot little Herve Leger bandage dress at Barneys. But the night had gone to shit before it’d even begun.

A light rapping on the door brought my attention in that direction, where Maisie stood. An apologetic look on her face as she bit her lip, she said, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Sawyer…”

She walked in and stood across the desk from me.

“I’m an asshole,” she said. “I’m mouthy. I have no filter. I say things without thinking. I’m an asshole.”

I sunk back in my seat, studying her. She was still wearing my white button down from earlier.

“I’m the asshole, Maisie.” I cleared my throat. “I never should’ve brought you here. I was selfish. I had my own reasons. For that, I’m sorry.”

My words seemed to shock her and leave her speechless for a moment. Her brows raised and her mouth held open in limbo.

“I don’t regret this,” I said. “I had fun with you.”

“Me too,” she said, her words barely a whisper. “But why are you sorry?”

“I thought spending a few days with you, would make me feel the way I felt when I was with her. Those were my intentions with bringing you here. I wanted to forget about my pain for a while,” I said, alluding to my Alexandria. “But you’re nothing like her. And that’s okay, Maisie. It’s not a bad thing.”

I stood up, walking around the desk and approaching her. I cupped her pretty face in my hand and stared deep into her eyes.

“This whole thing is kind of fucked up isn’t it?” I asked. “We both just wanted to forget our pain for a bit.”

Her eyes glassed over and she wiped a rogue tear with the back of her hand. “It worked.” She shrugged and gave me a humble smile. “I don’t know about you, but I forgot for a while.”

“You still want to do this?” I asked. “Four days with me?”

She nodded. “Believe it or not, I kind of do…”

“You do or you don’t?”

“I do,” she said.

“Get dressed,” I said, nodding my head toward the foyer where bags of clothes awaited her. “I’m taking you to dinner. And after that, well, you’ll just have to see…”

She smiled, her teary eyes drying.

“Oh, and Maisie? No panties tonight under that dress I bought you.”

Maisie

I was supposed to go home Saturday, but we both decided just one more night was in order. By the time Sunday rolled around, we’d had one last romp in the sheets before I dashed to the shower.

When I emerged, I found a Louis Vuitton suitcase sitting on his bed next to all the new clothes he’d bought me.

“You’re taking this stuff with you,” he said. “It’s all yours.”

“Seriously?” I asked, clenching onto the towel around my body. “All of it?”

He’d adorned me in expensive designer clothes all week, and an arsenal of high end perfumes and beauty products lined the sink in the bathroom.

“Thank you,” I said. “Wow. I didn’t expect this.”

“You can keep the luggage too. I have more.” He folded a dress and placed it inside the suitcase, slowly, as if he didn’t really want me to go yet.

I wanted to make a comment about how it sucked that school started back up Monday, but I remembered the agreement. We were supposed to spend a few days together and then go on like this never happened.

For the last five days, I forgot about Luke and Sara. I forgot about being lied to. I forgot about how awful it was that I wasted some of the best years of my life with someone I didn’t really even care that much about.

Sawyer opened up about Alexandria once, for maybe three minutes. He spoke of her with love and admiration and a longing that made my heart ache for him. I could only hope one day to have someone who loved me the way he used to love her.

“The car’s downstairs,” he said.

I scampered back to the bathroom. “I just have to dry my hair and change, then I’ll be ready.”

I stood in front of the vanity and blew out my blonde hair. I wanted to remember how the tile felt beneath my feet. How the detailed carvings of the custom vanity looked. How soft and fluffy the towels were against my bare skin. How Sawyer made me feel like the most cherished thing on earth for five days of my life…

***

We pulled onto the tarmac of a private airport just outside the city where he kept his jet.

“So I guess this is goodbye,” I said. “I had fun, Sawyer. Thanks for everything.”

We climbed out of the car and he leaned in for a hug, squeezing me tight. We shared something special, whatever it was, that week. I pulled away, looking into his hooded hazel eyes and trying to take a mental snapshot. I wanted to remember that week – and him – for as long as I lived.

He walked me to the stairs that led up to his jet, and for some reason, I wished more than anything in the world he could fly back with me so I could have just a few more hours with him.

I was going to miss his kisses. The way he stared at me. The way his cock felt buried deep inside me. The way his presence commanded my attention. The way he made me forget about life for a while.

I wanted to kiss him, but I couldn’t. It wasn’t appropriate. He wasn’t my boyfriend, he was just a man I spent a few days with. He was my five night stand.

“Mouthy,” he said before I climbed the first step. I turned toward him and he invaded my space. His hands traced the sides of my face, and he leaned in to claim my lips one more time. “I had to get one last kiss.”

I smiled, my thoughts a jumbled mess of incomplete sentences.

“Don’t go back to him,” he said. It was the first mention of Luke all week, and it made me feel like shit. The idea of Luke disgusted me. I’d tasted caviar. I’d never go back to catfish.

“Don’t worry,” I said. “I won’t.”

I turned away, peeling myself away from him, and climbed up the stairs to board his plane. I found a seat by a window and buckled myself in, smiling when I thought about the way he’d buckled me in earlier in the week.

“
You’re safe now
,” his words echoed in my memory.

I turned to look out the window, where he stood with his hands in his pockets outside his town car, watching. I gave him a wave and he nodded. I’d have given anything to know what he was thinking or if he was going to miss me.

I was going to miss the hell out of him.

***

That week, life seemed to go back to normal. I spent my days teaching my fifth graders and my nights learning how to cook for one as I graded papers. Every evening, when the sun would go down and I’d click the T.V. off for the last time, I’d think of Sawyer and wonder what he was doing.

He’d given me his number for emergencies he said, but I didn’t want to bother him. I didn’t want to be
that
girl. The one who thought a few days of sexy times equated to the beginning of a relationship. I left him alone. If he wanted to get a hold of me, I was going to let him make the move.

Besides, Sawyer Thomas was going to be just fine without this little Missouri school teacher. He could have any woman he wanted back in the city. The world was his oyster. He’d forget about me soon enough.

I laid on the sofa in the living room, debating on whether or not 9:00PM was too early to go to bed, when a knock on my apartment door sprung me into action.

My heart raced, my thoughts immediately going to Sawyer.

What if he came back? What if he’s surprising me?

An unapologetic grin claimed my mouth as I smoothed my blonde hair into place and tiptoed to the door. I stood on my toes to look out the peephole. My heart fell.

Luke. Ugh.