Because He Takes Me (Because He Owns Me, Book Two) (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (5 page)

He disappeared back down the winding driveway.

Shit, shit, shit.

What the hell was I supposed to do now?
 
I couldn’t just let some stranger go
poking around Callum’s garage, could I?
 
Then again, he seemed totally normal, this guy, and he seemed like he
knew Callum.

I scurried back into the house and opened two
different doors before finding the one for the garage.

Sure enough, there was a button for an opener
on the wall, and I hit it.

All four garage doors went roaring to life, and
when they opened, Jason was standing in the driveway as promised, the sun
glinting off his sandy hair.

He looked less intimidating than when he’d been
standing by the fence, younger and more innocent.
 
He was good-looking in a generic kind of
way, and he was dressed in a Ralph Lauren polo shirt and khakis, his sneakers
white and sparkling.
 
A pair of Polo sunglasses were
perched on his head.

He looked like he came from money, and I felt myself
relax a little.
 

“I’m so sorry to interrupt your day,” he said,
as his eyes zoomed around the garage.
 
“It’s just that I really need to get this tree house built for Leo.
 
I promised him I’d do it this
weekend.
 
 
I’ve been working a lot and this is my only
free weekend for a while.”

“Do you work with Callum?” I asked politely.

“Oh, no,” he said, glancing over at me sharply.
 
“Do you?”

“No.”

“What do you do?” he asked, making his way over
to a tool cabinet in the corner and opening it.
 
He began rummaging around inside.

“I’m trying to get a job in publishing,” I
said.
 
“I just graduated college.”

“Publishing!” he said, like it was as exciting
as if I’d announced I was on the verge of becoming a famous pop star.
 
“That’s great.”

“Yeah,” I said.
 
“I guess.
 
The job market’s pretty horrendous.”

“Jobs are scarce in every industry right now,”
Jason said.
 
He was still holding
the doors of the tool cabinet open, but then he shut them without taking
anything from inside.
 

“What kind of work do you do?”
 
I asked politely.

“I’m freelance.”

“Oh.”
 
I waited for him to elaborate, but he didn’t say anything else.
 
Freelance could have meant a million
different things.
 
Freelance
writer?
 
Freelance photographer?
 

“Ah!” he said, his eyes landing on something in
the corner of the garage.
 
“There it
is!”
 
He crossed the room and picked
up a chainsaw.

“Wow,” I said.
 
“Are you cutting the wood yourself?”

“Yup,” he said proudly.
 
“Well, I should get going.
 
Good luck with your publishing career,
Adriana.”

“Thanks,” I said.

“And tell Callum I said hi.
 
He’s a good guy, Callum.”

“I will.”

I waited until I saw him disappear down the street,
then hit the button to close the garage door.

I returned to the patio and picked up the
contract Callum had left for me.

I ran my hands over the printed words then
stared out at the sparkling blue ocean.
 
The color reminded me of Callum’s eyes.
 
I remembered how he’d touched me on the
plane, his fingers dipping into my panties, leaving me breathless, my body
tightly wired with want.
 

Just for one night,
I reminded myself.
 
He
doesn’t want to see you ever again after this.

But why should I deny myself the pleasure?
 
This contract didn’t change
anything.
 
There was nothing in it I
hadn’t already known.
 
By
definition, if someone told you they only wanted to be with you for one night,
it meant you shouldn’t contact them after that.

And when would I ever run into Callum after
this?
 
It wasn’t like I was in the
habit of frequenting the circles of billionaire businessmen.

He’d been very good to me, Callum, making sure
I was comfortable and laying everything out on the table.
 
Would I have preferred someone like the
guy I’d met on that dating app, the kind of guy who promised me something and
then didn’t deliver?
 

No, I told myself.
 
It was much better to know exactly what
I was getting myself into.
 

I wanted to be with Callum.

I didn’t care if it was just for one night.

I found a pen in one of the kitchen drawers,
and before I could think twice, I signed the contract with a flourish.

**

After I’d made the decision to stay, I still
had four hours until Callum would be home.

I didn’t want to swim.

I was too nervous to eat.

I took a walk down on the beach, letting the
saltwater slide up against my toes and the warm ocean air fill my lungs.

When I returned to the house, I sat on the
lanai and tried to read a book I’d found, but I couldn’t concentrate on the
words.
 
Finally, at around five
o’clock, I hauled my suitcase up to the master suite, not at all surprised to
find it was another room that took my breath away.

A heavy four-poster bed sat against the far
wall, with a balcony that opened up over the pool and gave sweeping views of
the Atlantic.
 
The bathroom was bigger
than my bedroom in New York, with creamy marble counters and a Jacuzzi tub.

I drew myself a bubble bath and lowered myself
into the water, letting the warmth soothe my muscles and my nerves.
 
When I was done, I dried my hair
carefully then went to apply my makeup.

But when I saw my reflection, I groaned.

The sun had darkened my skin into a nice bronze
color, except for my nose, which was more the color of a blood orange.
 
How the hell had I let myself get
sunburned?
 
I’d applied SPF 75
faithfully, even making sure I took the tube with me onto the beach for
touch-ups.

Damn my fair skin.

I did the best I could to cover it with my
makeup, but my nose was still much redder than the rest of my face.

I stepped into my thong and fastened the
matching bra, both of them made from a black satiny material that felt silky smooth
against my skin.

I took out my new maxi dress and pulled that
on, tying the beaded straps behind my neck and pairing it with a pair of
high-heeled strappy sandals.
  
When I was done, I surveyed myself in the mirror.
 
I looked
good,
at least as good as I could look.
 

I heard the turn of the key in the lock, and then
Callum calling to me up the stairs.
 
“Adriana?”

The sound of his voice, deep and penetrating,
sent shivers down my spine.
 
This
was it.
 
There was no turning
back.
 
Up until now, a part of me had
known I had the option of leaving at any time.
 
Even when I was getting ready, the whole
thing hadn’t felt completely real.

But now he was here, home from his meetings,
ready to do whatever I was willing to let him.

“Adriana?” he called again.

“Yes,” I said, hurrying down the stairs.

He was standing in the kitchen, bags of
groceries in his hands.
 
He was
still wearing his jeans and dark t-shirt, and I wondered how he could get away
with going to a business meeting like that, how he could get away with looking
so fucking sexy and powerful even in the most casual of outfits.
 
His eyes lit up and he smiled when he
saw me.
 
The way he greeted me, the
look on his face, as if he was happy to see me, instantly melted away any
doubts I might have had about whether or not I wanted to go through with this.

“There you are,” he said.
 
“Everything’s okay?”

“Yes,” I said.
 
“Yes, everything’s fine.”

He crossed the room to me, pulled me close and
kissed me hello, a deep kiss, not like the soft one he’d given me before.
 
The kiss intensified and he pulled my
body against his, crushing me against his chest, making me feel small and
letting me know he was in control.

My knees quivered and liquid heat pooled in my
belly.

He pulled back and looked at me.
 
“You look beautiful,” he said huskily.
His hands drifted up and slid to the back of my neck, tugging gently on the
thin straps of my dress.
 
“I cannot
wait,” he said, lowering his mouth to my collarbone, “to get you naked.”

I shivered and pressed my hands against his chest.
His muscles were rock hard and defined, and the heat in my belly turned from a
simmer into a full-blown boil.

He pulled back again and tweaked my nose
playfully.
 
“You’re sunburned, Lemon.”

“Yes,” I said, praying I didn’t start blushing
and making the redness of my skin worse.
 
“I took a walk on the beach.
 
I guess I didn’t realize how bright the sun was.”

“It’s sexy.”

“No, it isn’t,” I said, embarrassed.

He took my chin in his hand.
 
“When I pay you a compliment, you are to
accept it without question.
 
Do you
understand?”

I nodded, even though a part of me wondered
what he was talking about.
 
Why was
he talking in generalizations like we would ever have a chance for him to
compliment me again?
 
After tonight,
I would be out of his life forever.

“Come.”
 
He took my hand and led me to the kitchen, where he began unpacking the
grocery sacks.
 
“Did you eat?”

“No.”
 
I shook my head.

“I bought some steaks.”
 
He paused, his hands holding a package
wrapped in thick white butcher paper.
 
“You’re not a vegetarian, are you?”

“No.”

“Good.”
 
He walked out onto the lanai to light the grill, and when he returned,
his eyes fell onto the contract that was sitting on the dining room table.
 
“You signed it.”

“Yes.”

“Good.”
 
He began seasoning the steaks, applying a mix of cracked herbs and
spices, his hands moving expertly.
 
There was nothing sexier than a man cooking, and I loved the
juxtaposition of him standing there in his expensive clothes, his hair perfect,
his watch sparkling, while he prepared a meal, an activity that was so primitive
and raw.

“Can I help?” I asked, suddenly not sure what
to do with myself.

“No,” he said.
 
“You just sit there and look gorgeous.”

“Okay.”
 
I sat down in one of the chairs at the kitchen table, close enough that
we could speak without it being awkward.
 
“How was your meeting?” I asked.

“Fine.”

Oo-kay then.
 
We lapsed into silence and I drummed my
fingers against the table, searching for something I could talk to him about
that couldn’t be construed as personal.

“Oh,” I said, remembering,
 
“your neighbor stopped by.”

Callum stopped seasoning the steaks.
 
“My neighbor?”

“Yes.
 
Jason?”

“Jason?”
 
Callum looked over at me, his blue eyes sharp, his tone clipped.
 
“You didn’t let him inside, did you?”

“No. Well, not into the house.
 
He needed his chain saw.”

“His chainsaw?
 
Jesus!”
 
He shook his head.
 
“You let him into my garage?”

“Yes,” I said, twisting my hands in front of
me.
 
“I’m sorry, I just… I didn’t
know what else to do.”

He took in a breath through his nose then
returned to the steaks.
 
“If you see
him again, Adriana, please call me immediately.
 
Don’t talk to him, don’t engage him.”

“Okay.”
 
I swallowed.
 
“Who is he?”