Billionaire Brothers 2 : Love Has A Name (19 page)

“You have a charming morning face,” he said, evading my question.

Huh? “Morning face?”

“Yeah. Some women are butt-ugly when they wake up in the morning. They have swollen eyes with mucus in the corners, swollen nose, cracked lips and wild hair that’s scary instead of sexy. While with some women, in the morning, that’s when they’re the prettiest. Their skin is somehow softer, their eyes dreamy, their complexion warmer, their lips pouty and kissable, and their wild hair is the ultimate turn-on. Yours take the cake, though.” Before I could retort on women’s behalf, he held up his hands in defense and stood. “Hey, don’t ask me how it’s possible, but it is. I’m just being honest.”

He stooped down by the bedside so that his eyes were level with mine, then brushed the pad of his thumb across my lips. “You’re beautiful, Axia. Wanna tell you all the time but I know you’re probably tired of hearing it … When I
do
tell you, it’s because I’m so mesmerized that I can’t hold it in. It may be safe and not too idiotic to say that you’re perfect.”

The urge to roll my eyes was strong because of my sudden shyness, but I tried not to and simply mumbled a “Thank you”. It was true, I did grow tired of hearing it sometimes, but hearing it from the right person will make any woman’s day. And coming from Lovello’s lips, the compliment wasn’t discarded, but cherished. The words “you’re beautiful”, from a man who looks like he does, was enough to make a woman high.

“So are you going to tell me where you’re going?”

A sheepish smile curved his lips. “To hand out scholarships.”

“Huh?”

Lovello gave a resigned sigh. “I have this foundation called
L.O.V.E.
: Leverage Of Voracious Education. It caters for the education of underprivileged kids up until they are eighteen. The aim is for them to work hard enough and earn grades that will get them accepted into good colleges. Once they do, I give them scholarships along with smart cars and laptops. That’s what today is about. Eleven of my kids got accepted into top colleges. So there’s a ceremony being held for them today. Certificates, awards, vouchers and all that shit.”

“‘And all that shit’? Why do you sound as if you’re ashamed of this? This is a good thing that you’re doing, Love. I never would’ve expect —”

Abruptly, he stood. “That’s it. You never would’ve expected
me
to do shit like that. And I prefer it that way. It’s nothing to fuss about.” He walked off a few paces and then spun back to face me. “Not many people know it’s my foundation because I don’t seek publicity. So zip it. Okay?”

I smirked at him. “Is this the
only
foundation you have where you do good deeds and ‘all that shit’, Pretty Bad Boy?”

Wind got knocked out of me when he dove down on top of me in the bed and brought my hands above my head. “I said, zip it!”

“Hmm … Mr. Deeds,” I laughed and teased. “Mr. Deedsy Doodsy Deeds.”

My laughter was uncontrollable as I continued to tease him. He obviously didn’t like that, and thus covered my giggling mouth with his firm, frustrated lips. The laughter died and the kiss took over, growing into hot, steamy passion. His breath was fresh of peppermint, and I’m pretty sure mine was stale with everything I’d eaten yesterday. But Lovello didn’t seem to care as he chased my tongue around my mouth, sucking it whole when he caught it. Intensely aroused, and desperate to feel him inside me, I tilted my pelvis upward, sending a clear signal that I needed him. Lovello groaned and pulled away. “I can’t, beauts. I’ve got to go. I’m gonna be late.”

“You have got to be the crappiest lover, ever,” I complained.

“I’m your lover now, am I?” he grinned. “I can’t recall us ever making love or even having sex, for that matter.”

“That’s what I’m trying to get you to do!”

He pressed a kiss on the tip of my nose and bustled off the bed. “Hold your horses, lady.” Straightening his tie and buttoning his jacket, he asked, “Are you gonna stay here until I get back? Please do.”

“What time are you getting back?”

“Around three.”

“No. My flight’s at that time.”

“Ah hell. I forgot you were leaving today. I’m not leaving till Tuesday. Stay here with me until then.”

I snorted. “The last time I checked, I had a business to run. Nowhere on my agenda does it list: ‘run around L.A. with Pretty Boy Nelson while he attends meetings, bike shows and hands out scholarships and cars’. My life is my life. Your life is your life. Pretty sure I know where to find you whenever I need a quick fix. Otherwise, there are always other … sources.”

Lovello’s jaw worked as he shot me a death-glare. “Axia, if we’re going to do this, then you need to
stop
saying shit like that. I’m not playing games with you.”

Holding the covers over my bosom, I sat up in bed to look squarely at him. All playfulness gone. The real Axia Blacksille was back. “What? What
are
we doing? I don’t want you to get all carried away here, Nelson. This is nothing more than what it is. Okay? I see you. You see me. You touch me. I moan and beg for more. You screw the living daylights outta me. We both leave in satisfaction. And that’s where it ends. Nothing more, nothing less. That’s all we’ll ever do. Got it?”

Lovello’s glare grew thunderous, and when he bit down on his lip, I knew he was fighting himself to stay controlled. Doubt he knew it, but his lip biting was always a give-away to his emotions.

Wordlessly, he strolled over to the music system and retrieved his iPod. Then he went to his dresser and pulled open a drawer, took out a neatly folded white kerchief, and carefully situated it in the pocket at the left breast on the outer part of his jacket so that the white triangular tip of the kerchief peeped out. It was the icing on the cake for his outfit — no, the mirror-aviators that he next used to cover his eyes were the cherry on top. Sweet sins, this was
the
sexiest man I’d ever, ever laid eyes on. The man looked like he was about to walk down a neon-lit runway. He should be in magazines and posing on red carpets. He was just …
wow.

Sure he knew I was watching his every move, but he was too pissed at me to give a heck. He knew he was hot. He knew he was edible. And he knew I was there salivating for him.

With a serious face, chilled posture and covered eyes, he turned to me, and I could see my reflection clearly in his mirror-aviators. “There’s a new toothbrush and bath oil on top of a robe placed on the vanity in the bathroom for you. My T-shirts and boxers are in the chest, so when you shower you can drag on something clean. Whenever you’re ready to leave, there’s a key rack on the wall adjacent to the refrigerator in the kitchen, take any car from lots thirty-two to thirty-six in the garage. I’ll have it collected when —”

“No need. I’ll just call a cab.”

It was obvious he was struggling to hide his irritation and was close to losing it. His voice was as cold as the iceberg that sank the Titanic when he said, “Cool. Have a safe flight home” and sauntered out of the room. And with his departure, the chip of iceberg sank my heart, too.

I was a bitch.

“Axia, will you take your nose outta that damned thing and watch where you’re going? You’re going to get us killed!” Trudy yelled at me from the passenger side of my jeep.

It was Friday, and we were heading back from a hearty lunch to our respective workplaces. My nose, lips, tongue and fingers were currently wallowing in a bowl of pistachio ice cream while I steered and maneuvered the jeep with my elbows. Trudy wasn’t up for my recklessness, unfortunately, and her nagging was disrupting my monthly decadence, my favorite ice cream.

“Ugh, you’re such a baby, Trudy. We’re not gonna crash. That’s an insult, you know. I can drive with my eyes closed without hurting as much as a squirrel and you know it.”

“Not in this monster of a vehicle you won’t. I told you, stop coming to get me in this …
thing
. It takes up half the street, it’s as loud as hell, and it scares the shit outta me. Makes me feel like I’m in Iraq or something.”

Knowing her morbid fear of — well,
everything
, I popped on the lid of the bowl and chucked it onto her lap, then laughed when she scowled and tossed it on the back seat. “The way you exaggerate when you speak, girl! Stop hating on Rumby.”

Rumby was my Hummer H2, high and heavy in a military-green color. My big guy. Trudy hated it. She preferred my less intimidating Jeep Wrangler. She drove a Mini Cooper. The woman was close to six feet tall and she chose to squeeze herself into a goddamn Mini Cooper! Yet she tries to talk crap about my
safe
and
accommodating
Rumby.

“You can drive as loony as you want when you’re alone,” she yapped. “But I’m not ready to die just yet. When my boss starts on this new project, if all goes well, within the next year or so I’m gonna be a wealthy bitch. And I wanna live to see it.”

A shrill dashed through me at the mention of
him
. Pretty Boy. Ever since his cold exit on Sunday morning, I hadn’t seen or heard from him. Figured he was still sulking or maybe wasn’t interested in me anymore. Probably had enough of my crap.

Being anything more than shag pals wasn’t something I wanted. And I’d thought a guy like
him
would prefer the same thing, too. I mean, what guy as deliciously yummy and wealthy as him wanted any entanglements with a woman? But the way he got all touchy on Sunday morning told me that I might have thought wrong. Might have.

He’d been back from L.A. since Tuesday and I’d been expecting him to get in contact with me by then, but he hadn’t. And, though I wanted him so desperately, urgently, longingly, I’d refrained from calling him because I was somewhat confused about what he wanted. I wasn’t capable of giving any more of myself than sweat, panting, hungry kisses and sheet tumbling.

“I see someone’s happy about their contract. I envy you.”

Trudy rolled her eyes with a shy smile. “Whatever. You know it’s what I’ve been dreaming of. Nelson can be really nice and understanding at times, you know. So casual, that sometimes I forget he’s the boss. Men of that status normally behave in such a superior manner with their workers, treating them as if they’re some annoying piece of gum sticking onto the bottom of their expensive shiny shoes. Acting as if our poor, tiny brains couldn’t possibly come up with a million-dollar idea, and therefore wouldn’t even give us the time of day. Nelson’s a really good boss and I guess that’s why he prospers as much.” She sighed in dismay while wagging her head. “Now if only he was the same with women…”

“Give yourself some credit, too,” I admonished. “You have a heck of a brain beneath that skull. Don’t doubt yourself. He’ll be gaining from you as much as you’ll be from him. He sees that. It’ll all be good. With a mastermind like Nelson backing you, it’ll definitely be good.”

As I pulled up to the curb of Coded Solutions to dispatch Trudy, I craned my neck to look up at the towering edifice and wondered just what my Pretty Boy might be doing at that moment. For some odd reason, I was in an extremely good mood today — not at all like me — and I felt like screwing around in someone’s air. Spending a day with Lovello will do that to you. Or maybe it was just an effect of my pistachio ice cream. Or, maybe it was because on Saturday night I’d gotten my first orgasm in thirteen months that wasn’t self-induced. Yep, it’s the latter.

And I wanted more. Much more.

“Is that good-better-best boss of yours in today?”

Trudy looked at me with wary eyes. “Why wouldn’t he be? He has a company to run, doesn’t he?”

Jeez, what’s her problem now? My shoulders lifted in a nonchalant shrug. “Just wondering. He’s more like the all-play-and-little-work kind of guy, isn’t he?”

“Ha!” Trudy scoffed. “Don’t let Nelson fool ya. He likes to
pretend
he’s not all that serious about work. But really, he’s a slaughterer of work. He just does it differently. He shuts out the world and dedicates all his time to what he’s drafting, plotting, creating, for a period of time. And when he resurfaces he takes long respites, which include lots of sport.” Trudy twisted to grab her purse from the back seat. “But we admire his work ethic, though, he knows when to step away. He never allows himself to be dragged down into a mire of stress. And I don’t blame him. If I was worth billions at his age, I’d be having monthly vacations!”