On top: Billionaire bachelor romance (The Playgirls Book 1) (4 page)

Chapter 7

He snapped out of it quicker than expected; the instant she said she’d go if he was intent on stepping into her father’s shoes instead of her lover’s, he shook off the uppity disapproval and crossed the room, caging her in between the writing desk and his hard frame. 

“You’re not going anywhere.”

That was more like it.

She pushed him off her and dropped to her knees, giddy about following up on her promise. He let her fumble with his belt, remove his zipper and smiled as she took in the massive budge in his white boxers.

“My, my, hello there,” she said, dropping a kiss on top of the fabric.

The budge twitched, pushing against her lips. Oh, dear.

Slowly, ever so slowly, she slid her hand on his delightfully firm ass and dropped his underwear; he kicked them with his trousers once they were out of the way.

Hell. That was… Mh. Interesting.

She swallowed.

The dick pocking out at her fit into the category she’d known as monster cocks. It was long, no doubt about it, but what was absolutely unbelievable was the width. Oh my, how thick it was. It looked angry, prominent purple veins and all. Shit, there were sextoys designed under that very model.

Alice dropped her lips on the tip, hesitantly, wondering how she was supposed to make it fit, and the thing twitched up, pocking against the roof of her mouth.

Damn. She just pulled her head back and laughed.

“Something funny, Ms Vaughan?”

Nothing. He was just going to break her in two.

What the hell. She opened her mouth as wide as she possibly could and took it in until it hit her throat.

Her hair was short, especially at the back, but Colt had grabbed most of it in his fist and winced, gently pulling her backward, cautioning her.

Fuck this. She swallowed, taking him deeper, without a care for the slobbery mess she was making when her mouth tried to moisture itself.

She liked that wince. It was a payback for the absolutely out of this world experience he’d given her earlier that day. Recalling what he’d done, she put her hand back on his ass and carefully slid along her finger between his cheeks. Another wince followed. She smiled around his cock and withdrew it from her throat to breathe – an unfortunate necessity – before pulling him back, deeper yet, while exploring deeper into the crack between his firm legs.

He pulled her hair back again, which only made her push his dick back further into her throat and her finger, deeper inside his asshole.

“Alice!” he said, his voice commending, forbidding.

She only smiled. Her lips – her teeth – were around him. She was in charge now.

Resolving to completely ignore the slight pull on her skull when he attempted to get her to comply, she went wild, pushing her head up and down his shaft. It got deeper at each movement but unexpectedly, it reached a point where the struggle stopped, and it just slid all the way in, making her throat burn at the unfamiliar, unnatural invasion. Her lips were around the soft mount of hair, kissing his skin.

Alice didn’t like it. It was awkward, borderline painful... That being said, what felt nice was the feel of his skin contracting under her finger, the sound he made, a growl so loud it was imitating a fucking king of the jungle. She pulled her face back and pushed it back in. And again. And again.

She removed the finger lodged deep inside his ass as she realized another part of him had been quite neglected. Softly, she took her balls, caressing, then massaging them as she took him all the way into her throat.

The screaming never stopped, not until he was contracting under her hand.

She felt the strange liquid coating her, without ever tasting a thing: he was too far from her tastebuds for that.

When she’d dislodged her face from him, she smiled at the lipstick stain around his massive shaft. Only then did she lift her eyes to his face.

She just laughed: Colt was a mess. He was sweating breathing hard, as though he’d just survived a triathlon. 

“Fuck. I need to sit down.” 

“Whatever you say, old man.”

He was holding his sides, puffing all the way to his massive sofa.

•

Fuck. He hadn’t signed up for this shit. Suddenly, the fuck me get up
did
suit her. That was a porn star blowjob if he’d ever seen one. Where the
hell
had she picked up skills like that? Colt knew better than to believe appearances, but he’d had a very thorough background search done on her. Underhanded, sure, but he wasn’t one to let anyone dodgy near his family. He knew she’d grown up in a nice town near San Francisco, the family was unremarkably upper-middle-class; she’d never sold sex.

Right now, it really felt like it, though.

There had been an unremarkable number of boyfriends – suitably low. Four, five maybe. Which ones had shown her
that
?

A question he wouldn’t normally have forgone crossed his mind. Was she clean? He’d assumed so. Now, he wasn’t sure of anything – not even that list of hers. There was no way she could have been that inexperienced and dished out heads like that. Was it some sort of plot? It wouldn’t have been the first time. Women did crazy thing to become Mrs Colburn.

He caught some sort of movement to his right and then, saw her standing up. Her coat was on. He hadn’t heard a word of whatever the fuck she’d been saying; his turn, he supposed. But one thing was clear, she was going home.

Good.

Right?

“Stay,” he heard himself say.

What the fuck! She wasn’t good news, there was more than met the eyes. Much more. He couldn’t trust her.

“I can’t. Work to do, you know.”

“It’s almost ten.”

“I work at night, mostly.”

Of course she did. Journalists in respectable firm always did, right?

Fuck, what the hell had he got himself into.

He heard a meow and looked down. Strange. Pepper
never
came out when strangers turned up, especially female strangers, but here she was, rubbing against Alice like she was stuffed in catnip.

“Anyway, see you later.”

And with that, she was gone. Two minutes later, he was pulled deep in an orgasm induced slumber.

It was still dark out when he awoke; something felt wrong. There was a ball of fur against him, but he’d somehow expected more warmth.

His shook his head and the events of the previous hours came back to his mind.

He felt for his phone and pulled Rhett’s number.

The background check had been as specific as one could get from the IT department without giving a valid reason; he needed more, and Rhett was his best bet.

The ex-Marine, now mysterious recluse, was running a security and surveillance agency – and he still owed him a favor or two.

Despite the time, Rhett came back to him within minutes.

“Sparkling clean. Stop finding excuses to screw up your relationships.”

Whatever. Sure, he’d had Rhett check out most of his previous girlfriends, but his fears
had
been founded. There generally had been the occasional skeleton – bad debts, affiliation with some competitors, undercover paparazzi.

“That was a bit quick to seem so certain.”

“Checked her out two months ago. Saw that one coming, bro. Come on, PURPLE
eyes? I’ll email details. But that one’s a keeper.”

He wasn’t sure why that made him more anxious, at first.

Colt opened his laptop and opened each and every attachment Rhett sent him. He’d started all the way from the nursery down to her last Starbucks refill. Everything was there, each moment of her life. Colt shamefully clicked through, too quickly to get details, but he got the larger picture.

Sparkling clean, as Rhett said. She
did
work nights: to suit the kind of event she covered, her usual working pattern started at two in the afternoon, and finished somewhere around midnight.

She’d had four boyfriends. The first had cheated on her, and had consequently stalked her for three years after she’d dumped his ass. Same for the second; she got a restraining order quicker, this time. The third cheated, too, but rather than trying to get her back, he’d done the opposite, bad mouthing her so much she’d moved away from San Francisco, following some friends to LA, instead.

The last – surprise, surprise – had cheated, too, but he’d taken the separation in stride, marrying the other girl afterwards. They’d stayed friends: Alice had even made an appearance at the wedding. Guessed she was used to it, by then. 

Fuck. Four relationships, over the course of ten years. Of course she’d learnt to give a head at some point. Why had he even considered anything sinister?

Colt had to stop and consider Rhett’s words, again. Stop finding excuses to screw up your relationships.

Was he really doing that? No, wrong question. Of course he was. More accurately: why the hell was he doing that?

It took a while, but he had to admit that it was because he didn’t care. He hadn’t wanted the women in his life to stay around, they’d taken up so much of his time and given him nothing but headaches.

But this time, he’d found excuses right away,
way
before getting bored. In fact, he was feeling the exact opposite of bored: enticed.

Yet here he was, wanting it to stop before it started.

Why?

He forced himself to consider what would happen if he let that relationship develop. Alice was the perfect mixture of sweet and feisty, so it was fairly safe to admit that he might get attached.

Then, she’d break up with him. Her last relationship did prove that she was mature enough to maintain a friendly rapport afterwards, so he’d still see her around for the occasional sit down meal at Xander’s. He’d hear about it when she moved on; hell, he might even meet the guy who’d snatched her up.

The pain was unexpectedly sharp. Ah. So it was self preservation. Better stop it now, right?

Chapter 8

Sometimes, she wished for a time machine, to go back to the day whence doorbell had been invented and shoot the guy. Seriously. It should have been considered a crime against humanity.

She dragged herself out of bed, glancing at her grandfather’s clock. Nine. Nine in the freaking morning. Everyone in this building knew better than to disturb her before twelve on a weekday.

Alice was what one would call a night owl. She normally wrote until four, five in the morning, so sleeping half the day away was par of the course.

She grumpily opened the door on a humongous bunch of flower. What the hell?

Her sneezing immediately got out of control; some flowers weren’t bad, but everything in this bouquet triggered her allergies. Seriously, carnations, chrysanthemum and lavender? Someone wanted her dead.

“Ms Vaughan?”

She reluctantly signed but told the delivery girl to leave the bouquet on the steps – no way was that going inside the apartment.

“Could you do me a huge favor and read the card to me?”

She’d rather not get close enough to touch that.

The woman turned a deep shade of red.

“Mhh… Well, it says. My turn to blank out princess. That was a hell of a head. And it’s signed with a C. I think there’s a little x afterwards.”

She
thought?

Alice covered her nose with one hand and grabbed the card, which made her eyes water.

There definitely was something there that could be constructed as a little kiss at the end of the C.

Damn.

“I wish I got flowers everytime I gave a head,” the younger girl confessed.

Alice was still coughing, eyes burning. She wished she hadn’t.

•

From: Alice A. Vaughan

To: Colton Henri Colburn

Subject: Attempted murder.

Dear Sex Toy,

I understand there’s quite a lot we don’t know about each other. Let me be the first to offer up information. I suffer from sever pollen allergy. For that reason, I take medication about nine month out of twelve. December isn’t one of those months.

Thanks for almost killing me. Very last blowjob I ever give.

Yours sincerely,

Alice.

PS: I will
not
be seeing you, or anyone else, for the next week, at the very least, as my eyes look akin to a raccoon and I’ve been commissioned by Santa to replace Rudolf.

Shit.

How had he messed that one up? Flowers
always
worked. 

He stared at his phone for a while, altogether ignoring Kim’s chatter, until he reached a decision which should have made him question his sanity.

The house wasn’t what he had expected. He’d assumed she lived somewhere nice – she was successful, and wasn’t carrying any school debt, but that was another level altogether. Her condo, at the very top of a long, slick Beverly Hills building, was as impressive as his. She had a doorman, there was a yard out back and a parking underneath.

The door opened in front of a tall, incredible beautiful redhead and his frown disappeared. Ah. They were sharing. Smart girls.

The woman looked at him up and down, and instead of seeming impressed, as most did, she shrugged dismissively. 

“Colt, I presume. I’m Emma. I work for your brother; so I suppose I work for you, too.”

She left the door wide open and went back in.

Ok, then.

He let himself in, looking left – to a wide, open space kitchen – then right, towards the lounge.

As the statuesque beauty had disappeared, he made his way right, hesitantly.

Good call.

Colt did his best to keep a straight face. Alice was laid out on a white sofa, surrounded by a pile of used tissue. Her adorable little turned up nose
was
kinda rivaling Rudolf’s, and her eyes had definitely gone on the puffy side of things.

“You!” she pointed an accusing finger, but the whole effect was completely spoilt by the smile which was matching his.

“I am bearing gifts,” he announced, holding the huge basket out.

He’d stopped at the pharmacy first, for allergy pills, tissues, pain killers and whatever else the sale attendant had managed to throw in his basket. Then, he’d gone to a deli, a chocolatier, the bakery. Finally, he’d stopped by Saks; if all else failed, he had a dark silken scarf which cost more than some people’s rent.

“Look where your gifts got me.”

She nonetheless poked her head up to check out some of the goods.

“Is that parma ham?”

“With cheese and bread.”

“Oh. And… chocolate truffle.”

He nodded solemnly.

“Mh. Umm… Cheesecake?”

“Oh yes.”

She bit her lip. Next, her hand went to the artfully wrapped black box, and reverently opened on the dark green fabric. She gasped.

“Ok, if you don’t want him, I’ll marry him,” the woman who’d introduced herself as Emma offered.

There was nothing friendly or joking about the look Alice sent her. It was cautioning, threatening, and it went straight to Colt’s crotch.

God knew why: he hated jealous women. Unfunded jealousy was one of the most selfish emotions, and he’d always thought it denoted a complete lack of trust.

Every pretty speech asides, it was nice to see her giving a damn. He was constantly on his toes with her, because he really couldn’t tell if she gave a fuck. It had never been part of the equation.

“You like?”

“I’ve drooled over that one for weeks. Did anyone tell you?”

He shook his head; if he’d asked someone about her taste, he might not have turned her face red and blotched.

“I just thought it would suit you. So, you’ll accept it?”

He was used to women saying
oh no, I couldn’t, it’s too much,
without a care about how hurtful it was to spend a lot of time choosing a gift, only to have it thrown at his face because it wasn’t a cheap trinket.

Colt didn’t do cheap; he hadn’t had when he’d been on a budget, either. He’d bought one pair of good quality jeans, rather than five crap ones. He wasn’t about to start changing that policy now.

Besides, he’d learnt that when a three digit price tag was an issue, there was no hope to build any sort of relationship. He needed his partners to wear suitable attires for functions, to be seen giving generously – in tips, to charity. They were reflective on him and he was reflective on Colburn Global. He didn’t expect them to flaunt
their
money, it wouldn’t be fair: he was more than happy for them to use his. It was entirely for his benefit. But they had to do it, or there was no future.

So, he was paying a lot of attention to her expression over the next few seconds.

Alice shrugged.

“Yeah. I mean, you’ve decided to give it to me, I haven’t forced your hand. So, thank you very much. I appreciate it.”

She punctuated that with an adorable little sniff. Damn, even her fucking allergies were cute.

“I’m heading out,” Emma announced, muttering something about all that sweetness making her feel sick.

He thought she was referring to the chocolate at first, but then, he considered the way he’s sat down on the floor, at Alice’s feet, looking up towards her as she gazed down with the smile.

Ok, if he’d been a detached witness to that scene? He’d be throwing up in his mouth a little. They were sweet.

Things got a bit awkward as soon as she left, because now they were alone, which catapulted his brain straight to the gutter.

It was fucked up, she looked quite unwell, sniffing away. There was nothing sexy about the large PJ she’d wrapped herself under, either. But he soon started rubbing her leg, all the way from the feet up to her hips, and back down again, his becoming hungrier each time he reached the waistband.

He’d managed to hold a conversation through this ordeal. Alice talked about the movie premiere she’d attended before meeting him the previous night; On Top was still small, so she wrote one or two articles per edition, in addition to her usual page.

Coming up with that article had been a pain, because the movie had been crap. She’d had to turn the piece on the premiere itself, to ensure she wasn’t pissing off anyone she might need later on.

“It’s strange; our jobs couldn’t be more different, but I have to think about the exact same thing everyday,” he confessed.

Colburn Global wasn’t focused on one aspect, unlike Colburn Finance, ran by Kane. Kane specialized in helping out start up companies; he had his plate full, as he took them all the way, assisting their marketing, their product manufacturing and everything else in between, but Colt’s job was harder yet. He oversaw it all: Kane’s side of things, but also Xander’s – he’d branched out, but his company was still under the umbrella of the family business – and countless other fields. Colburn Media, Colburn Press, Colburn Sport, Colburn Insurances.

So, in short, Colburn Global was about keeping everyone happy. Smile, joke, kiss a baby.

“Do you like it?” she asked with a frown, hearing the little note he thought he’d effectively hidden.

Cold opened his mouth, ready to lie as he usually did, but then, he closed it again, shaking his head.

“Not really. It’s not challenging the way Kane’s job is. Sure, there’s a lot of work, and not everything goes according to plan, but when something is wrong, I’m not supposed to find a way to fix it. My job is to ask someone else to.”

“Why are you doing it, then? Nevermind, I know why.”

He quirked an ironic eyebrow, amused at the assumption. They’d known each other for less than a season, it was hilarious to think she might have a clue about things he never admitted to anyone out loud.

“Enlighten me?”

He thought she might say something about his mother, or maybe the insane salary he earned; or perhaps, the fact that it had been professionally challenging, to rise from the bottom to the top. All of the above were perfectly valid guesses; and they also were true, to an extent. None was the reason, though.

“Well, it was to take the pressure off your brothers, right? I mean, yeah they are doing their things, now, but if you hadn’t stepped into the Global seat, they would have done it for your parents.”

A beat passed; while he wasn’t actually thinking straight, his mind went back to theories about UFOs and aliens; mind-reading ones, this time.

Then, he climbed up on the sofa and attacked Alice’s lips.