Because He Watches Me (Because He Owns Me, Book Nine) (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (34 page)

“Have a drink,” Red said. “Seriously. I promise I didn’t poison you.”

Anderson’s hand shook. Finally, he had a sip, grimacing. “There. Can I leave now?”

“You said you’re not beholden to me,” Red began, putting his hands behind his back like a professor starting a class lecture. “But what if you’re wrong about that?”

“I’m not wrong.”

“Are you absolutely certain of that?”

“I’ve had just about enough of your riddles, Mister Jameson.”

“It’s not a riddle.” Red crossed to his desk and sat casually on the edge of it. “You know, I never particularly cared about the stories you people ran. You said all kinds of things—some true, some lies—but none of it mattered to me.” Red looked at Nicole. “But then I met someone who changed my life.”

Anderson couldn’t contain a mocking snort.

Red glowered at the man. “It might seem funny to you, but I take my relationship with my fiancé very, very seriously. Today, for the first time, I stopped finding your stories cute and funny.”

“I’m sorry for that,” Anderson said, not sounding particularly sorry.

“When something bothers me, I usually take action,” Red continued, as if the other man hadn’t spoken. “So I did the easiest thing. I bought your magazine.”

Anderson stared at him, stunned. “You did no such thing.”

“I said you’d need that drink.”

The older man gulped it down swiftly, his whole body trembling. “Please tell me you’re joking.”

“No.” Red shook his head. “And I think you know I have the money to do it. In fact, your company has been losing money the last three quarters, so I think I got a bargain. But I would have made the deal anyway.”

“I suppose this is your elaborate way of telling me I’m fired?”

“Actually, no.” Red shook his head. “You were only doing your job, which was to write stories that the public wants to read. I don’t mind a man earning a living, like I said.”

“Then what? Why am I here?”

“Two things,” Red told him. “Firstly, I don’t appreciate that you contacted Nicole and tried to turn her against me. What was the point?”

Anderson shrugged. “Relationship building, we call it. I start off giving information, proving that I can be a resource to the person in question. Eventually, the target—errr—person I’m building a relationship with, will start to speak to me like I’m a friend. And soon I’m just listening to the story and they’re telling me everything they know.”

Red nodded, and there was a glimmer of respect there. “I admire your tenacity but in this case it was a mistake.”

“Clearly,” Anderson said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

“Onto the second thing I want to resolve. I’m your boss now,” Red told him. “And as your boss, I want to know who leaked those stories to you. The ones about my previous engagements and the plans to change my image by dating an average girl.”

Anderson hesitated. “I need confirmation first, that you actually bought my magazine.”

Red shrugged. “Call your editor.”

Anderson pulled out his cell phone and quickly made the call. A few seconds later he was speaking to someone. “Well, I bet you’ll never guess where I am,” he said, his voice trembling. Pause. “Red Jameson’s office…yes….yes.” Longer pause. “It’s real then. He bought us out?” Another long pause. “Okay. Okay. Thanks.” The older man hung up and stared at his cell phone as if it had betrayed him.

“I’m an honest guy,” Red said.

Nicole truly felt sorry for Anderson now. He looked beaten. All of the condescension and creepiness seemed to have been knocked out of him by the realization that he was at Red Jameson’s mercy.

“I’m sorry I didn’t believe you,” Anderson said.

Red smiled. “Hey, you had to have confirmation. I understand. And now it’s time to tell me what I want to know.” His expression darkened and he looked positively frightening. “If you don’t tell me who leaked those stories, I’ll make you wish you’d never heard my name. Firing you will be the easiest part. Making sure you never work again—anywhere—will be the fun part for me. By the time I’m done, you’ll be lucky to get a job shoveling yak shit in Afghanistan.”

“I don’t need to be convinced,” Anderson said, guzzling the last of the vodka. “It was Talia Ferring. And
she
contacted me,” he finished.

Red was positively beaming. He moved from his desk to where Anderson was standing, simultaneously taking the empty glass from one hand and shaking the other. “You’ve done well,” he said, ushering him toward the door. “Now go home and try to get some rest. I want you up and working on a new story—preferably about Justin Timberlake or Brittney Spears. Just stay away from my fiancé.”

Anderson groveled a little about how happy he was to be working for someone like Red, as Red kicked him out. And then the door closed and Red was back, grinning like a kid who just stole the cookie from the cookie jar without getting caught.

“Aren’t you pleased with yourself?” Nicole laughed.

“Sort of. That felt good, I admit.” He took her by the shoulders and looked in her eyes. “I’m not going to let anyone hurt you ever again.”

“I’m not a delicate flower, I can take it.”

He smiled. “I know. That’s what I love about you. Among many other things.” And then he was kissing her again and it was heat, so much heat and she was lost in it for a long time. The way Red’s hands moved on her body, touched her just right. She wanted him all over again.

She loved that he was protective of her.

When they broke the kiss off, he was suddenly all business again. “I want to show you something, just so you know your trust in me is well founded.” He took her by the hand and brought her to his computer, had her sit right next to him as he navigated through his email.

It took him a minute or two and then he found what he was looking for. It was an email from him to Talia, dated well over ten months ago. It said:

Hey, T.

I’ve been thinking about that image makeover idea we discussed yesterday. It was a funny little thought, but last night I slept on it and actually it’s a pretty tacky gimmick. I can’t let myself get caught up in the expectations game. I’ll just be myself and let the media do what it does. Hope you weren’t too far down the road with planning anything. Let’s just focus on the Jameson brand and not worry so much about the dope who runs the place.

-R

He turned to Nicole and smiled. “I might be an idiot, but I’ve never been that big an idiot.”

“You were just a little confused,” she said.

He sighed and rapped his knuckles on the desk. “Unfortunately, now I need to take care of some housecleaning in the marketing department.”

“Are you going to fire her? Talia?”

Red stood up and buttoned his suit coat. “You bet your sweet ass.”

“I want to do it.” Nicole got up and swept her hair over to one shoulder and put her hands on her hips. “I’ve got a little score to settle with that bitch.”

Red’s eyes widened with surprise. “You’re serious? You want to fire her?”

“Do I have the authority?”

“Not really. But I’ll give it to you, if you want.”

“I do.”

“Well, then. By the power invested in me as founder and CEO of Jameson International, you—Nicole Masters—may go to the marketing department and fire that bitch.”

“Good.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek. “I’ll be back in a jiff.”

She walked out of the office and went to the fourth floor, where the marketing department was located. Nicole hadn’t thought anything out—she just knew that this was something she wanted to do. Remembering how Talia had called her a hobo and humiliated her in the hallway not long ago—not to mention leaked those horrible stories—made Nicole want to fight.

And if she was going to fight, she damn sure well wanted to win.

The marketing department was fairly big and she walked down a few hallways before she finally saw the nameplate outside the door of one of the corner offices. Talia

Ferring.

The door was open already, and Nicole could see the beautiful blond at her computer, on her desk phone talking and laughing. “…I know. Did you see that awful picture though? The two of them? You’ve got to be kidding me…”

Nicole knocked on the door loudly, twice.

When Talia glanced up and saw who it was, her face went almost white. “I’m on the phone,” she said, covering the receiver with one hand. “Can you try back tomorrow?”

“No.” Nicole crossed her arms and stood there.

Talia sighed and took her hand off the receiver. “I’m sorry, something just came up,” she said into the phone. “Can I call you in a few?” And then she hung up.

Nicole entered the office and shut the door. “I’m going to need just a moment of your time,” she said.

Talia leaned back in her chair. “Do I know you?”

“I think you do.”

The woman snapped her fingers. “That’s right! You’re the wrinkly little hobo that was sleeping in the hallway outside our CEO’s office.”

“Right,” Nicole said, smiling back at her. “And you must be the idiot who leaked stories about me and Red to the tabloids.”

Talia’s face really did turn white now. “Excuse me?”

“I think you heard me.”

“Don’t accuse me of things in my office, you little twerp. Believe me, I’ll have you fired so fast your little head will spin.”

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” Nicole leaned back against the door. “In fact, I think I’m going to fire you instead.”

“Just get out. Get out before I call security. I’m vice president of marketing and you’re a little nobody. Just because Red’s sleeping with you, doesn’t give you the authority to fire me. You couldn’t fire our caterer.”

Nicole wanted to pull her hair and slap that bitchy look off her face. But then she got herself under control. Either way, Talia was out of a job. She didn’t have to believe Nicole—she’d find out soon enough.

“Enjoy your last day,” Nicole said, opening the door to leave.

“And you enjoy giving Red blowjobs in exchange for pocket money, hon,” the woman called after her.

Just then, Nicole saw two security guards heading her way. They didn’t look very happy, either. When they got to Talia’s office, they stopped.

“Thank god,” Talia said to them. “This girl’s disrupting my work and being incredibly rude and unprofessional. I want her escorted out of the building, please.”

“Ma’am, we have orders to escort
you
out,” one of them said.

“What?” Talia’s jaw dropped.

“You’re to take only your personal belongings. Please do not touch your computer, any files or items from your desk.”

“I don’t understand. Please call Red Jameson and let him know what’s going on. He’ll explain to you—“

“Red called us personally and told us, ma’am.” They moved into her office and stood over her, watching every movement she made.

“Good luck, Talia,” Nicole said. “I’m sure you’ll have no problem getting another job in advertising after this. You know Red, he’s a very forgiving guy.”

Talia was gathering her things and tears had begun streaming down her face.

That was enough revenge for one day, Nicole thought, leaving the scene.

***

T
hat night
, Red and Nicole were on the couch at their home in Connecticut. It felt strange to call it their home, but it was. And Nicole was starting to feel that—more importantly—Red was her home.

As long as he was there, she knew she’d be safe and taken care of.

“I still need to call my parents and tell them the wedding’s on,” she said, lying on his chest. His easy breathing was a sign of just how relaxed he was tonight.

“You want me to do it?”

“Call my parents?” she laughed.

“I’ll do it. What’s the worst that can happen?”

Nicole thought about it. “You have no idea.” Then she climbed up and kissed him on the lips.

The sparks became a bonfire and then a raging inferno. They were starting to tear each other’s clothes off. “Wait, just one thing,” she told him.

“What?” he asked.

“Promise me that no matter what, we’ll never let anyone get between us.”

“I promise,” he said, looking into her eyes.

“I can’t wait to be your wife.”

“Give me your phone,” he said. “I’m calling your parents right now.”

“We’re half-naked!” she cried.

“Good. They’ll never know the difference. I always talk to people while I’m naked.”

“Red, please!”

He tried to grab her phone but she wouldn’t let him and soon he’d stopped trying. He was busy putting his hands other places.

And the fire raged on.

“
D
o you like being spanked
?”

“Yes.”

“Tell me.”

“I love it. I love it when you spank me, Red.”

“Beg for it.”

“Please spank me hard. I want you to slap my bare ass, as many times as you see fit.”

“You deserve it, don’t you?”

“I’ve been so bad.”

And then, there was the sound of flesh upon flesh, skin upon skin—the sharp sting of pain, brief but pleasant in its own way. Nicole’s buttocks contracted as Red’s hand marked her left buttock, then her right.

She lay over his lap, her butt sticking up in the air, her skirt pulled above her waist, nothing else on but a lacy black bra.

With one hand, Red tweaked her erect nipple while his other came down firmly on her right buttock again.

They didn’t always play Red’s games—he was more than willing to keep the kink out of the bedroom—but when they did play, it would be on his terms. Still, Nicole had grown more than accustomed to Red’s style of dominance in bed, and now more than ever she sensed just how much he cared for her underneath it all. Ever since he’d confessed the horrible emotional abuse he’d endured as a child, how his mother had verbally humiliated and shamed him, Red was a different man.

But he had his needs, and Nicole was more than happy to oblige in fulfilling those needs. At the same time, the recent play had a much more lighthearted tone than it had previously.

“Your ass is bright pink now,” Red told her, his voice husky with desire. She could feel his hard erection pressing against her lower abdomen as she lay over his lap. Wriggling against him, her moist inner folds grew slick and excited.

“I don’t think I’ve been punished enough yet,” she complained, looking over her shoulder at him.

He grinned down at her and raised an eyebrow. “No? What more do you deserve?”

“I need something in my mouth to keep me quiet.”

His grin widened. Nicole was getting good at this game and he knew it.

A moment later, he was standing in front of her and she was sucking his throbbing member with so much vigor and enthusiasm that he nearly came early. And she knew Red prided himself on his stamina and control.

“Baby, you’re killing me,” he rasped, breaking character and sitting down on the bed. His erection was stiff and tall and she wanted it inside of her badly.

“I’m so wet,” she whined. “My pussy needs to be punished too.”

He lay back on the bed. “Climb on top of me,” he commanded.

Nicole got on him and slowly, slowly lowered her slickness onto his cock. As she allowed him to push through her, going deeper and deeper, her legs began to quiver.

She knew that both of them were trying desperately to hold back the ecstasy, because if either one of them came it would trigger the other’s climax as well—and then the fun would be over. Over before it had really even started, but it felt just that good. Each time it only seemed to get better and better with Red.

Nicole looked down at her man. His bulging biceps, his rippled stomach and rock hard chest. His tan, perfect skin could easily grace the covers of any magazine. Those dark eyes penetrated her soul more deeply than he ever could penetrate her with his cock. But he was doing a very good job with his cock, too.

No doubt about it, Nicole knew she’d fallen hard for the billionaire celebrity mogul. But she’d fallen for much more than just his flashy lifestyle and his beautiful body. Nicole had fallen for the sweet soul and courageous man that was buried beneath all of those surface level qualities.

She knew that she’d love Red whether he was a famous businessman or just some mechanic like her dad. She didn’t care about the money or the fame or anything but the way Red touched her, the way he loved her, and of course the way his eyes met hers. The way he looked at her made her feel wanted down to the very depths of her soul and she was able to trust him, despite all of the obstacles facing their relationship.

“Oh, Red,” she moaned as his strong hands grabbed her hips and guided her motion, their pelvises moving together, completely in sync.

He closed his eyes and she saw his chest rising and falling faster and faster. Nicole’s breasts heaved, sweat glistening as she rode her dark haired man, and she was so wet now that everything was moist and glistening and fast.

He thrust deep inside of her, touching something so personal and private that the shock of it set off a climax the likes of which she couldn’t have imagined.

And her climax was a catalyst for Red, who gripped her arms and pulled her toward him as he came inside of her. Their mouths pressed together, tongues intertwined, everything as one.

She could feel him, could feel his heart pounding against her breast in a steady, fast rhythm as their crescendo caused Nicole’s entire body to lock up in a state of pure bliss.

When it was over, they lay together, panting, Red chuckling as he regained his senses. “This bed looks like it’s just been through a war.”

Nicole glanced at the silk sheets, half on the bed, half on the floor. Pillows tossed across the room. And the two of them, their juices and sweat and sex comingling as they lay, spent.

“We’ll definitely need to do a wash,” she told him, keeping her head on his bare chest so she could listen to the sound of his heart.

Red stroked her hair softly, kissed the top of her head. “I can’t believe how lucky I am,” he said.

She glanced up at him. “You lead a charmed life.”

“Not quite,” he said, his expression growing more somber.

“You’re rich, famous, successful, good looking, intelligent. And you have an awesome woman who adores you. Isn’t that the definition of leading a charmed life?”

He laughed, the darkness fading and lightness returning to his eyes. “When you put it that way…”

“You deserve everything you have,” she told him, caressing his chest with her hand. “You’re a beautiful person inside and out.”

“Only you see me as I really am, Nicole.” He kissed her forehead. “I’ll do anything for you and I’m always going to protect you. You know that, right?”

“Yes,” she whispered.

It felt so good and right lying in Red’s arms like this. Everything was just perfect, and for a moment she had not a care in the world. And then, as if her own mind couldn’t allow Nicole to just enjoy this small slice of perfection—she remembered her parents.

“Oh god,” she muttered, filled with dread at the thought of her mother’s judgment.

“What’s wrong?” Red asked.

“I just thought about how I need to tell my parents the wedding is on again.”

“So?”

“So, my mother’s going to be insufferable. She was relieved when I told her we’d broken up.”

“That’s it. I’m calling her.” He made as if to get out of bed, and Nicole clutched at him.

“Don’t you dare. I’m serious.”

“You are?”

“Yes.”

He began tickling her, his fingers goosing her stomach and ribs and she was giggling and trying to keep him at bay.

“I don’t know, Nicole. You’re laughing. You don’t seem very serious to me.”

“Please—Red! Red!” she squealed.

“What?”

“Stop!” she gasped.

He let go of her and grinned as she once again straddled him. “Your parents won’t ever approve of me,” he said. His smile faded a little as he said it. “But I’m not worried about them. I love you and nothing and no one is going to change that.”

“I just don’t want to have to defend myself to her.”

“Your mom?”

“She’s going to pester me constantly.”

He grabbed her wrists lightly and pulled her down for a long, extended kiss. The warmth of his lips and body, his closeness—the smell of him—it made her mind go blank. All she knew was how good Red felt. And then they stopped kissing. Red stroked her hair again, sending shivers up and down her spine.

“Next time you speak to her, remember us—remember what we have,” he said. “Keep it in your mind and hold onto it. Never let anybody make you doubt what we share.”

“Okay.”

“Promise me, Nicole.”

“I promise,” she said.

And then they kissed again, making Nicole forget everything—everything but the magic that the two of them made when they were close.

***

N
icole moaned
with pleasure as she bit into the delectable broccoli and cheese omelet that Chef Roland had cooked for her. He was Red’s personal chef, and he was on call 24/7, ready to come to the house at a moment’s notice to prepare anything Red or his guests desired.

“You like?” Red asked, as he sipped at his coffee.

“I like. Very much.” She took another bite and shook her head, completely awestruck by the amazing taste of this simple food. The eggs and cheese practically melted in her mouth.

They were sitting in the veranda located off the kitchen. Nicole liked sitting out there because it was very open and spacious, but there was still a roof overhead and some protection from the elements.

Inside, she could see Chef Roland bustling to and fro in the kitchen. He was a middle-aged man with red hair and bright blue eyes, and he and Red seemed to be friends. They had a quick, easy rapport.

“Isn’t it kind of strange to just have a man in your kitchen, fixing you meals like that?” she asked Red, as he kicked back in his chair and enjoyed his coffee.

“Maybe at first. I’m used to it now.”

She shook her head. “I don’t know if I’ll ever get used to it.”

He shrugged. “We can let him go if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“You mean fire him?”

Red smiled. “Chef Roland has plenty of opportunities in the culinary world. If you don’t like having him around, he won’t be here.”

Nicole took yet another bite of the scrumptious breakfast and closed her eyes. “Come to think of it, I might get used to this life.”

Red laughed. “That’s what I thought.”

She opened her eyes, put her fork down, and studied her fiancé’s expression. He was sipping his coffee and seemed to be content, but just a few minutes ago he’d glanced at the Wall Street Journal and something had upset him. She’d seen the tension in his eyes and the way his jaw tightened as he quickly scanned the paper.

At the time, she’d let it go. Work was work, and she was still really nothing but a glorified intern.

But as she watched Red now, trying to look at ease, trying to remain playful and happy—yet somehow not being totally convincing—Nicole sensed that whatever was going on might be serious enough for her to ask about it.

“I noticed you reading the paper earlier,” she said carefully, trying to sound curious instead of suspicious.

“Me? Never. I only read blogs and only when they’re about me.” He grinned and sipped his coffee.

He was being coy and she wasn’t sure she liked it. “Was there something in The Wall Street Journal that bugged you?”

He frowned briefly and sighed. “Nothing worth thinking about or talking about.”

“But you are. You are thinking about it.”

He smiled at her. “Aren’t you the clever psychologist all of a sudden?”

“I just want to make sure you’re okay. If something’s bothering you, I want to know what it is.”

Red licked his lips. “I’m going to tell you a secret, babe.” He leaned forward in his seat. “When it comes to business, something’s always bothering me.”

“I’m a good listener.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Don’t patronize me, Red.”

“I’m not.” He put his coffee cup down on the table. “I just want us to enjoy this beautiful morning together and—“

Suddenly, his phone was buzzing. With a frustrated exhalation, Red glanced at it, and then his eyes widened. “Shit. It’s my mother.”

Nicole felt a rolling, sickening sensation in her stomach—like she’d was on an elevator dropping twenty floors. “Are you going to answer it?”

He stared at the phone hesitantly. She’d never seen Red look that way before—nervous and unsure. Finally he answered, standing up and walking a few paces away from the table, turning his back to her.

“Mother,” he said, a statement. Then he listened for a time. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you myself,” he said. “I meant to but things have been busy for me.” Another long silence while he apparently listened.

Nicole wondered if his mother was haranguing him, insulting him like she’d done when he was a child. She couldn’t imagine Red putting up with that sort of thing now, though.

“You are?” he said, his voice getting slightly louder. “When were you planning to arrive?” His shoulders tensed and hunched as the conversation went on. “Of course…what about Jeb? Is he coming with you?”

Nicole pushed her plate of eggs away. She suddenly she’d lost her appetite.

“I’ll see you soon,” Red said, after another long pause. And then he ended the call, staring down at his phone as if had betrayed him. He came back to the table and sat, his face drawn and no trace of the earlier good humor remaining. “That was interesting,” he said with sarcasm.

“What’s going on?”

“My mother’s apparently been reading the tabloids. She was upset that I hadn’t told her about our engagement, and so now she’s decided to drop in and meet you in person.”

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes.” He wiped a hand across his face. “She’s flying in from Chicago and will be here first thing in the morning.”

“To meet me.”

“Yes.” He crossed his arms and sat back, rolling his eyes as if examining the ceiling. “She said she’s looking forward to becoming fast friends with my wife-to-be.”

“Oh god.”

“Don’t worry, she’s usually very nice…at first.”

“So all I need to worry about is
when
she’s going to stick the knife in my back.”

“Don’t be melodramatic, babe.” He rose from his chair and came to stand behind her. And then his strong hands were rubbing her shoulders and the back of her neck, spreading that familiar heat up and down her entire body.

“I’m not trying to be overdramatic, Red. But those stories you told me about her—they scared me a little.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t let her hurt you.”