Engage (Billionaire Series) (3 page)

“I bet you get off
at midnight, right?” Philip raised an eyebrow. When Jennifer nodded, he
continued. “Excellent. I just flew in from Tahiti and my body hasn’t accepted
the fact that it’s not early evening anymore. Do you have some time to
accompany me to my room?”

Jennifer paused
before repeating his request, “Accompany you to your room?”

“Yes, I’d like to
discuss your musical skills at greater length. It’s nice to have company.”

Oh, that’s right,
Jennifer thought to herself. This guy probably had a long flight and wants to
have some nice friendly conversation to lighten his mood. It’s been a while
since someone has wanted to talk to her about the piano. Not a lot of people
asked her about her hobbies and about things unrelated to her job. She wondered
what he did and what he was doing in Tahiti. Work? Fun? What kind of person was
this guy to take the time to ask a random hotel staff what was going on with
her? This was a high-end hotel. The patrons are more interested in being served
than finding out more about their servers.

It wouldn’t hurt
to go, especially when this man is a high priority guest. We are supposed to be
one of the best hotels in the area. But what if he’s talking about more than
just accompanying him to his room? What else is he expecting?

The thought of this
attractive man ravishing her, made her blush. His strong arms wrapping around
her and his cheek brushing against hers as he thrusts deep inside of her. She
couldn’t remember the last time such a stud hit on her. His looks alone would
allow him any pick he wanted of any female on earth. A random fling with a
stunning stranger wouldn’t be so bad, would it? Ever since James, she had never
done anything really crazy. When would she ever get this chance again? Hell,
she should take advantage of her youth while she had it!

“Alright,” she
glanced at the clock. “Let me tell the doorman to keep an eye on things before
the staff for the next shift arrives…should be any minute now.”

“I’ll wait for you
at the elevators.” Philip didn’t give her a chance to react.

I was
sitting in what was certainly the most opulent office I had ever set foot in.
The conference table had feet – actual feet – made out of some kind of very
shiny wood, probably carved by blind Tibetan monks or something. A circle of
plushy armchairs which looked too heavy to even move was arranged around the
table, full of well-dressed people who obviously changed their outfits twice a
day and spent their lunch breaks ironing their ties. I was sitting like a
schoolgirl, my hands in the lap of my grey suit pants – which I now realized
were speckled with lint – and trying to concentrate on the will which was being
read in pompous tones more suitable for a coronation than a will reading:

“Lastly,”
Mr. Williams, head of the law firm intoned, “Miss Amanda Taylor, great niece of
the deceased, Mr. Andrew Scott, is bequeathed the extensive hedge fund
investments of Mr. Andrew Scott, namely Mr. Andrew Scott’s investments in
Dillinger Inc., Mr. Scott’s investments in Coraopolis Corporation, Mr. Scott’s
investments in…”

“Wait,”
I interrupted, earning myself affronted looks from a few of the tie-ironing
suits. “Uncle Andy left me his investments?”

“If you
would let me read from the document,” Mr. Williams said sternly, “you will be
equipped with a full list of the assets bequeathed to you by Mr. Scott.”

“But –
the Dillinger investments? That’s a global company! Those alone must be worth
almost a million dollars!”

“Pff, does
she even know what to do with that much money?” she heard someone softly
snicker further behind her.

Mr.
Williams cleared his throat loudly. “Correct, Miss Taylor. Now, if you would
let me continue. Ahem. Mr. Scott’s investments in…”

But I
wasn’t paying attention as he continued to read a list of investments which now
belonged to me. Uncle Andy had left me his lifetime of achievement – and
millions of dollars’ worth of investments to boot.

The
first time he let me sit in the corner of his office with my book while he was
making investments, I was only eleven years old. We had just spent the day
playing soccer in the field outside his country mansion.

“You’re
turning into a real tomboy,” he teased me as I powered the ball through our
makeshift goalposts yet again. My knees were muddy, my cropped hair was a brown
tangle and I was panting with exertion, grinning up at my uncle.

“You’re
just getting old,” I taunted him.

“Maybe
I am,” he laughed, rubbing ruefully at his bald spot. “A little too old to stop
my energetic little niece from scoring goals, at least.” He leaned back
stretching his body. “Well, I think it’s time to get back indoors.”

My face
fell. “Uncle Andy, please. Just one more goal – I’ll even let you block it.”

Uncle
Andy laughed heartily at my comment and kicked the ball back to me. “Just one
more, Mandy. Then it’s back to the office for me, and settling down with a
quiet book for you.”

“But I
want to spend time with you,” I whined. It was hard to stay away from the one
person who made every effort to give me his time and all his energy.

“Well…
if you promise to be very quiet, you can read in my office while I do my work,”
Uncle Andy reasoned.

“For
real?”

“Yes –
for real. You can even give me a bit of your expert advice if you like. I’m
thinking of making an investment in a soccer team – if you want, you can help
me choose which one.”

Forgetting
about the one last goal, I tackled him in a hug. As he hugged me back, ruffling
my tangled hair, I felt a burst of happiness, like a bubble growing and growing
inside me. Uncle Andy had always treated me like an equal, like a grown up,
even when I was a small child. Now he was showing how much trust he truly had
in me – entrusting me with the investments he built up from scratch, helping
small businesses to grow into successful companies.

As I
considered the enormity of what Uncle Andy had given me, I realized that my
life had changed irrevocably. Uncle Andy’s investments were worth millions of
dollars, and the interest alone meant that I’d never have to work again.

Unbidden,
the thought rose in my mind: I could write… The dreams I had abandoned because
I needed to have a practical job floated through my mind, tantalizing me. I
could quit my job as an accountant, turn my back on the three foot square
cubicle and the desk which was essentially laminated cardboard. I could buy one
of these squishy armchairs, hire a few extremely muscular men to carry it to my
apartment, and spend my days working on my novel!

I felt
dizzy and intoxicated, like I had just been given my first kiss all over again.
Everything I had dreamed of – which had all been pushed to one side – was
suddenly within my grasp, if I was brave enough to reach out and take it. Was
that what Uncle Andy had meant when he wrote that note in the book?

“Miss
Taylor? I’d hate to think we were boring you,” the annoyed stuffy old lawyer said,
peering over his thick glasses to glare at me. I suddenly felt like a guilty
schoolgirl, daydreaming about being a famous writer when I should be paying
attention to the teacher. It was stupid, but even as a 29 year old woman,
highly successful people could still make me feel like a grubby child caught
goofing off in class.

“Not at
all,” I said in my best cultured voice, resisting the urge to check my face for
smudges of dirt.

“Excellent,”
Mr. Williams said briskly. “As I was saying, the will attaches some rather
particular requests to your inheritance.”

My
heart immediately clenched – of course, there would have to be strings
attached. No such miracle as free money could ever come bounding in my
direction.

“What
conditions?” I asked nervously.

“Mr. Scott
guarded his investments closely, and dedicated his whole life to maintaining
them.”

“I
know,” I said. “I know how much they mean, I mean, meant to him.”

“Then
you know that he would not merely put them into the hands of an individual
unable to take proper care of the investments. As such, you will need to
undergo training and mentorship in order to understand how to handle them.”

“Training?”
I frowned.

“As you
might be aware, a hedge fund is no laughing matter. Not just anyone can make
money on their investments. Although the investments your great uncle left you
are largely passive and won’t require a great deal of maintenance, he wished
you to be trained in order to better protect his investments. This knowledge is
difficult to come by without much experience.”

“I –
does he want me to take a class?” I asked.

“No,
absolutely not – Mr. Scott had a protégé, whom he wished to oversee your
education in this matter – Mr. Mathis
Côté.”

“M-Mathis
Côté?” I
stuttered. It felt as though I’d just been thrown backwards out of my
comfortable seat and straight onto my butt. Mathis Côté! It had been ages since
I had seen him – since he had disappeared entirely from my life. I looked
around the room stupidly, as if I could possibly have missed him the first time
around among the overly-starched businessmen peering at me as if I had just
uttered a curse word.

He wasn’t
anywhere to be seen.

“Mr.
Côté will be in charge of training you to take over your great uncle’s
investments,” Mr. Williams repeated. “That is the request stated in your great
uncle’s will.”

As the
meeting wound down, I couldn’t shake the feeling of confusion. Just an hour ago
I had been worried about meeting my next deadlines at work and whether or not I
had time to wash my hair before meeting my friend, Sharon, for drinks. Now I
was the heiress to my Uncle Andy’s lifetime of investments and I was going to
be trained by… Mathis. Our friendship had been so long ago, but I still
remembered it vividly as a time in my life when I had felt completely happy and
carefree. But the way it had ended… I had so many questions I didn’t know what
to think.

My
thoughts drifted back to that day in his office again – the first time my uncle
had trusted me to be a part of his work. I resolved not to disappoint him. I
would learn everything I needed to protect his investments. But seeing Mathis
again after all that time…How would I feel?

A very nervous
Jennifer found herself on the elevator with a complete stranger. Her entire
body was stiff despite her numerous attempts to force herself to relax. He just
wanted to talk. That was all. Even as she said it, she knew how naïve it
sounded. Men didn’t just invite random women up to their room to discuss piano
music.

Philip spoke,
interrupting Jennifer’s cyclical thoughts. “That was Chopin, correct?”

“Y-Yes,” Jennifer
nodded.

“Do you play by ear
or do you learn from composition?”

“A little of both,”
Jennifer felt herself begin to relax as the conversation continued in a
familiar direction. “I can read music to play something I don’t know. It
usually takes me a couple of times of listening to a song to get it right
without sheet music.”

“What you did
downstairs, that was flawless,” Philip extended an arm as the elevator door
dinged open.

“Thank you,”
Jennifer stepped onto the tenth floor. “It was the first complete piece I
learned how to play well.”

“I wonder,” Philip
spoke softly as he walked past her, “if your fingers are just as skilled at
other things as they are at playing the piano.”

Jennifer nearly
stopped in her tracks, but her feet continued to trudge forward. Had she heard
him right? One minute, he was talking piano then this overtly sexual innuendo
came out.

Philip had already
opened the door and was watching her with a guarded expression on his face.
When she walked past and into the opulent room, she caught another whiff of his
spicy scent. Desire began to unfurl in her belly. It felt wildly exciting to
have a one night stand with a handsome man after her disastrous relationship
left her feeling like utter crap. Even if this guy was picking her up on a
whim, it’d been so long since someone very charming had so straightforwardly
desired her.

“You smell
wonderful,” Philip said as he hung his jacket over the back of a chair. “Do you
taste as good as you smell?” He took a step towards Jennifer.

She let out an undignified squeak and flushed when Philip chuckled. He put his
hands on his hips and Jennifer couldn’t help but drop her eyes to his crotch,
wondering if
he
tasted anything like he smelled. She wanted to test that
theory, wanted to drop to her knees, yank his pants down around his knees and
take him into her mouth... she shook her head. That was so not like her, right?
Was she ready to be that daring?

“Jennifer,”
Philip’s voice was closer than before.

She looked up,
cheeks flaming as she realized what he’d caught her doing. She hadn’t just been
staring or checking him out. She’d been ogling, pure and simple. That was such
an unexpected thing for her to do. She had only the briefest fraction of a
second to register that Philip was leaning towards her when his lips were
brushing over hers.

The touch made
Jennifer want to melt right there. Just a gentle pressure, but so much more.
Sweet as honey and impossibly gentle. His mouth was warm against hers and then
it was gone. She blinked rapidly, still trying to process what had just
happened. Philip was looking down at her, the expression in his eyes
unreadable. He seemed to be waiting to see how she was going to react. When she
didn’t, still too much in shock to muster any real response, a self-satisfied
smirk crossed his lips and he bent his head towards her once more.

His mouth was firm,
gentleness morphing into something more. As his tongue traced her bottom lip,
one of Philip’s hands slid around her waist, pressing against the small of her
back to draw her closer. His other hand cupped the back of her head, his
fingers buried in her thick hair. He tilted her head and the tip of his tongue
teased along the seam of her mouth, a silent request.

Jennifer opened her
mouth, inviting Philip’s tongue inside. It slid along hers, twining and dancing
as their bodies pressed together. Her arms snaked around his neck, her body
responding to his touch. She’d never experienced this type of connection
before, something so strong and deep that it frightened her. She knew she
should pull back, slow things down, but the desire inside her was far too
strong.

Philip walked them
back to the couch, breaking their kiss when they reached it. His breathing was
heavy, but steady. He sat down on the couch and held out his hand, the
invitation in his eyes clear. Jennifer hesitated for a moment, uncertainty
flooding her. If she started this, she knew where it was going to end.

“Jennifer,” Philip’s
voice was soft, full of desire and something darker, something that tugged at a
different part of Jennifer, a part she hadn’t realized she’d had.

She took a shaky
breath and slid her hand into his. The next thing she knew, Philip was pulling
her onto the couch. She wasn’t sure when her shoes joined Philip’s shoes and
suit jacket on the floor or when she went from sitting to laying her body
stretched out next to his.

Philip’s mouth
moved down one side of her neck, teeth gently scraping over the soft skin.
Jennifer moaned and arched her back. Her skirt hiked up higher as she hooked
her leg over Philip’s hip. He made a sound Jennifer could only describe as a
growl and flipped her onto her back. One hand held her waist, fingers teasing
at the pale flesh exposed when her shirt bunched up, and she squirmed at the
touch. She wanted more, but was scared to want more, the conflicting emotions
at war inside her.

Philip raised his
head as he toyed with the top button on her blouse. He didn’t say the words, but
Jennifer understood what he was asking. Swallowing her anxiety, she nodded. As
he began to slowly open each of the buttons, Jennifer let her lust overtake her
actions and started on Philip’s shirt.

The clothes shed
quickly and easily, leaving them in just the essentials. Philip’s gaze traveled
down over Jennifer’s body, taking in the simple white cotton bra and panties.
For a moment, she was embarrassed that she wasn’t wearing something nicer. She
quickly saw the heat in his eyes and knew that he was more interested in seeing
them off. The black boxer-briefs hugged his narrow waist and one glance at them
confirmed just how much he liked what he saw. Hands slid over exposed skin,
electricity racing through every cell. Their mouths explored as well, wet open-mouthed
kisses, nips from teeth, tongues traced designs on flesh. Jennifer moaned as
Philip’s mouth closed on one cotton-covered nipple. She ran her hands over his
arms, eyes closing as she let her body absorb the work his mouth was doing.
When he raised his head, her nipple was a hard point beneath the nearly
translucent fabric.

“I want to touch
you,” Philip whispered in her ear, the first words spoken in what could have
been hours or minutes. She didn’t know or care which.

Jennifer could only
let out a small affirming moan.

The moment Philip’s
fingers crept beneath the waistband of her panties, Jennifer opened her eyes.
His eyes were on her face, watching her expression change as his fingers delved
between her legs. Her eyelids fluttered, mouth opening in a silent sigh as
Philip began to lightly rub her clit.

“Open your legs
wider.”

The command was
soft and Jennifer immediately obeyed. She wanted more. Part of her brain told
her that she might want to object, that things were going too fast, but the amazing
sensations flooding her body were quickly taking over. The tip of Philip’s
finger teased around her entrance.

“So wet,” he
murmured as he slipped his finger into her tight heat.

“Yes,” Jennifer
hissed.

“You’re so tight.”
Philip’s eyes flicked up to capture Jennifer’s face, his finger never pausing
in its rhythmic stroking. “How many lovers have you had?”

Jennifer opened her
mouth to tell him that the question was too personal, but then he crooked his
finger, rubbing against that spot inside her that she’d only heard about. She
keened, her body shaking as an orgasm unexpectedly crashed into her. As
pleasure washed over her, she was vaguely aware that Philip had slipped off her
panties, but then he slid a second finger into her pussy and that became all
she could focus on.

“How many?”

It took a moment
for the question to register, and then Jennifer answered. “One.” The answer was
easy, of course. There had only been James, and it had never been like this
with James.

She almost missed
the surprised expression that crossed Philip’s face, but when it was replaced
by something primal and hungry, she could only think of how much she wanted him
to be inside of her. She whimpered as he withdrew his fingers, eliciting a
smirk from her soon-to-be lover.

“Are you on the
pill?” Philip asked as he stood.

Jennifer was
finding it difficult to answer as Phillip stripped off his underwear. She
couldn’t take her eyes off of his long, thick shaft.

“Jennifer,”
Philip’s voice was ragged, as much evidence of his need as his swollen
erection.

“Yes,” she answered
his question. She’d never been so grateful that James had insisted on her
taking birth control. After their break-up, she’d gotten tested since she
wasn’t sure who he’d been screwing. Fortunately, she’d been clean and, though
she didn’t have anyone in her life, she continued taking the pills.

“Good,” Philip climbed back onto the couch, settling between Jennifer’s legs.
“Bra?”

Flushing slightly,
though she wasn’t sure why, Jennifer unsnapped the front of her bra and let it
fall to either side, exposing her firm breasts.

“Good.” Philip took
her breasts in his hands, rolling her nipples between his fingers and causing
the pale caramel-colored flesh to crinkle. “Now,” he released her breasts and
took himself in hand.

Jennifer thought
that she should speak up, say that this was all happening too fast, but the moment
she opened her mouth, Philip buried himself inside her. The words became a
wail. He stilled for a moment, his gaze never leaving Jennifer’s face as it
contorted and twisted. She didn’t know what to feel, how to feel. Her body was
cocooned in a cacophony of sensation. She was stretched wide around him, filled
more fully than she’d ever been. He reached between them and brushed his thumb
over her clit and she cried out. He smiled and leaned over her, pressing their
bellies together as he began to thrust, his strokes shallow. The angle caused
his pelvic bone to rub against her clit with each movement, and Jennifer felt
the pressure of climax building once more. Philip captured her mouth with his,
tongue mimicking every stroke he made and Jennifer became certain that she was
going to explode, that the fire growing in her belly would consume her.

Philip
straightened, breaths coming in pants now. He grabbed her wrists and pushed her
hands up over her head. He held her hands there, the new angle allowing him even
deeper penetration and Jennifer gasped. While one hand held her, the other
hooked under her knee and yanked her leg up. Philip began to move faster,
harder. The look on his face had changed into grim determination as he drove
them both towards final release.

Little noises were
falling from Jennifer’s lips and she wasn’t sure where they were coming from,
strange mewls and moans that she’d never made before. Each stroke sent a new
wave of nearly painful pleasure racing along her taut nerves.

“Cum for me,”
Philip ordered, each word punctuated by a brutal thrust. “Cum!” He growled.

The command
triggered something deep inside Jennifer, something she hadn’t known existed,
and she came. She cried out, her entire body going rigid as it struggled to
absorb the overwhelming sensations. Philip continued to pound into her, each
jolt sending another shock through her system. As her body finally went limp,
Philip slammed into her one last time, a drawn-out groan coming from his lips
as he released himself into her.