The Hotel 2 (The Billionaire Seduction) (5 page)

“Is there?” He gives
me a look. “We’ve had our disagreements, so let’s
just say my perspective is—”

“Biased?”

He laughs. “Perhaps.”
He reaches for the drink he has on the desk, a glass of something I’m
betting isn’t iced tea. “You should have seen my
grandfather fawn all over him. He was always the favorite.”

Now we’re getting
somewhere. “That sounds rough, especially when you’re
young. Is that why you went off racing in Europe?” I ask.

“No, sweetheart. That was
for the beautiful women, like you.” He raises his glass in a
flirtatious toast.

I smile and roll my eyes. “Come
on.”

He shrugs. “It was
something to do. I mean, it’s not like Dom would let me be a
part of his empire here.”

I can hear the bitterness in his
tone. Interesting. Dom feels like he’s had all the weight of
responsibility fall on his shoulders, while Xander resents not having
a chance to work at the top. It’s a shame they’ve never
been able to find a balance together.

“It’s too bad you
stayed away for so long. But now that you’re back, I hope you
and Dominic can work things out,” I say honestly.

Xander doesn’t seem to
absorb my words, nor their implications. “Do you have siblings,
Juliet?”

“No. I always wished I
did.”

He smiles at me, but there’s
a hard glint in his eyes. “Then you wouldn’t understand.”

“Maybe not.” I take a
chance, and add, “But I do understand that feeling second-best
could be heartbreaking.”

There’s silence. Xander
doesn’t acknowledge my comment at all. But when he swivels in
the chair to pour another drink, I feel like he knows exactly what
I’m saying.

“Dom likes to shut me
out—always has, but I’m going to prove him wrong this
time.” His face is determined when he turns back to me. He
raises his glass. “Cheers to difficult assholes.”

But he’s not looking at me
– his gaze is behind me, to someone in the office doorway.

I know even before turning who it
is. Dominic stands there, hands in his pockets, looking pissed.

Guilt washes over me. Sure, I’m
not doing anything wrong, but I can tell from the stormy look on his
face that Dom thinks I’m fraternizing with the enemy.

“There’s a problem at
the Paris hotel.” He gives Xander a sharp glare. “We’re
leaving immediately.”

Alexander sets down his glass. He
actually looks pleased. “Great. I’ll get my bag and—”

“Not you.” Dom
dismisses him with a snort. “The last time you stepped foot in
that hotel, you left ten thousand dollars worth of damage and a
harassment lawsuit. I’ll be handling this alone. With you,
Juliet.”

Wait, what? Did he just
say…
Paris
?

“Go home and pack,”
he adds, giving me a private smile. “Our flight leaves
tonight.”

I
barely have time to rush home and pack before a driver is at my door
to take me to the airport, where Dominic’s private plane is
waiting for us. I can’t believe it. My nerves are racing as I
walk up the steps and into the plane’s luxurious cabin. I have
no idea what to expect except that I’m going to Paris.

Paris!

Dominic is already waiting in the
cabin.

“Welcome aboard.” He
takes my bag with a smile and leads me to the rear of the plane. It’s
truly incredible, with plush, recliner-looking chairs, polished wood
accents, and glass-topped tables. Leather bench seats line the space
beneath the windows. There’s a flat screen television, and
beneath it, a…

“There’s a fireplace
in the plane,” I say dumbly. It’s gas, I’m sure,
but still. There’s a fireplace. Inside the plane!

“There’s one in the
bedroom, too.” He opens the door at the back and I gasp.
There’s a private room in there with a massive bed.

“This is definitely an
upgrade,” I crack, nervous. “The last time I flew
anywhere I was jammed in the middle of a row with some kid kicking
the back of my seat for three hours straight.”

“You don’t have to
worry about that here.”

Dom puts my bag down and pulls me
in for a kiss. I melt into him, gripping his shirt as his palms trace
my shoulders and down my arms.

“Do you have any idea what
I’m going to do with you in Paris, Juliet?” His voice is
a throaty whisper.

I shiver with anticipation.

“All the ways I’m
going to fuck you…” he continues, sliding his hands down
to grip my ass. “How much you’re going to love it, how
you’re going to be begging me for more?” Gently, he palms
my breast through my blouse, pebbling my nipple and making me gasp.

“Is that a promise?”
I whisper, feeling light-headed.

“An absolute promise.”

There’s someone approaching
down the aisle, but I can’t resist leaning up and murmuring in
his ear. “I can’t wait to earn my Mile High Club badge.”

He grins. “I like how you
think.”

The sound of someone clearing
their throat breaks the moment. “Mr. Rexford? We’re
ready.” It’s the flight attendant.

“Excellent.” Dom
releases me. “Come then,” he tells me with a wink, “We’ll
find our seats for take-off.”

We get settled in the main cabin,
although it’s like no airplane cabin I’ve ever been in.
The chair is so wide, I can probably curl up and sleep in it. I
buckle up, and try to ignore the butterflies in my stomach.

“Something wrong?”
Dom asks.

I flush. “Planes…aren’t
my thing. I’m fine once we reach altitude, but taking off
rattles me.”

“Don’t worry. This
pilot is one of the best. It’s very safe.”

“I know,” I say,
trying to brush off my anxiety. “It’s just a stupid
phobia.”

Dom takes my hand and gives it a
reassuring squeeze. I hold on tight, bracing myself. The engines rev
up, getting louder as the seconds tick by.

“You really are scared?”
He frowns.

“It’s nothing. Ignore
me.” I gulp.

“Let’s see if we
can’t distract you…” Dom pulls a blanket down and
spreads it across both our laps. I’m confused, until his hand
disappears under the blanket and caresses my thigh. By increments, he
slides his hand higher, pushing up the hem of my skirt in the
process.

I swallow hard. “I’ll
need a
lot
of distraction.”

Dom laughs.

“I didn’t mean it
like that!” I exclaim, but he just leans over and envelops my
mouth in a firm kiss. I try to relax, but I’m completely aware
of his hand still stroking upwards between my bare thighs. Dom gently
nudges until I move my legs wider apart under the blanket. I catch my
breath, now not sure whether my heart is racing in fear – or
desire.

The plane starts to taxi down the
runway and I grab his arm, feeling silly. But Dom’s fingers
don’t stop. They trace from my inner thigh to the edge of my
panties. I let my thighs part a little more, relaxing – until
the hostess passes us. I tense up.

“All buckled in and set for
takeoff?” she asks.

“Ready to go,” Dom
answers, still tracing up my inner thigh. She moves on, and takes her
own seat at the back of the plane.

“Dom…” I shift
in my seat, glancing over at her. My body is demanding, but my brain
is screaming abort, abort! “We…could always just talk.”

“Not as fun.” He
makes lazy circles on my skin, and I close my eyes to sink into the
sensation. I fight to keep it together.

“I wanted to explain, about
Alexander.”

“No.”

His fingers slip under my panties
and rest at the top of my mound. Damn him. I reach beneath the
blanket to grab his wrist, arching into him just a little.

“But…”

His
finger glides over my throbbing clit, then lower, tracing an
invisible line through my wetness, teasing me without mercy. Licks of
delicious heat uncurl in his wake, my legs falling completely open.
Dominic groans low and leans into me, and I shiver as his breath
touches my ear.

“My brother quits things as
fast as he starts them. He’s insignificant and a problem, and
not worth talking about. Not when I have more important things to
focus on…”

He touches my clit, presses
against it until a burst of pleasure goes through me, and I nearly
buck off the seat. My fingers wrap around the back of his hand as he
starts to stroke me with fierce, quick, relentless touches.

“Oh my God,” I
breathe before clenching my lips together in an attempt to stay
quiet. The way he’s touching me is perfection and the pressure
inside is building fast and intense.

“Keep your hand on mine
while I make you come.” His voice is low, commanding. “Do
you like this? The way I’m touching you?” He kisses the
edge of my ear.

I nod and dig my nails into the
back of his hand. He slows his pace, finding a soft-yet-firm rhythm
that quickly carries me away. I turn my head, silently begging for
his kiss. He presses his mouth to mine and I’m both frustrated
and soothed by it.

I want to let loose and I can’t.

“You’re so hot, baby.
So wet. Just for me,” he whispers into my panting mouth.

He thrusts two fingers into me,
slides back up to rub my clit and then thrusts again, harder. I dig
the fingers of my free hand into the arm rest as he kisses me again,
alternating thrusts and strokes until the flickers of orgasm threaten
to burst.

“I can’t wait to fuck
you. Hard. Fast. Have you suck me off, your hot mouth on my cock.”

It’s so good, I can’t
hold it back. Release slams into me and I hang onto him, to the seat,
squeezing my eyes shut and pressing my lips together to keep from
crying out. I hear Dom laugh softly.

He’s a delicious bastard.

A dirty talking sex God, and he’s
going to pay for this.

“I would have loved to hear
you scream.” He slowly slides his hand from between my legs and
I feel drunk and weightless.

“By the way, we took off a
few minutes ago.”

What? I glance to the window and
see clouds. Dang, that worked
really
well. I readjust in my seat and move my skirt down. He looks amused
as I kiss his cheek. “You’re an excellent distraction.”
I tell him.

The
flight goes quickly, and I barely notice the hours tick by between
dozing off and watching Game of Thrones on Dominic’s iPad while
he works from his laptop and takes calls. I lay down to take a nap,
but I don’t realize I’m sleeping until Dominic wakes me.
“We’re here.”

Outside, the airport lights shine
brightly. We’re taxiing across the tarmac to the arrival gate.
Apparently I missed the landing, too.

We disembark, and head through
customs before a driver meets us at the curb. I watch out the limo
windows as we head to the hotel.

“I can’t believe I’m
in Paris.” I meant to think it, but I say it out loud. Dominic
leans against me to look out the window, too. He doesn’t say
anything, but I feel him smile.

We head through the city, and I’m
gawking at the gorgeous old buildings and chic tree-lined boulevards,
a pastel blue sky dotted with picture-perfect clouds sweeping
overhead. Eventually, we turn across a square and The Rexford Paris
comes into view. I swear, my heart jumps into my throat.

“Holy shit.”

Dominic laughs at me. “Wait
until you see the inside.”

I’m craning my neck to see
when my door opens and a man in white gloves helps me out. The hotel
stands, imposing, with a view of the River Seine. It’s
gorgeous, classical architecture with arched windows, massive columns
and a carved marble statue at the entrance.

Dominic joins me on the front
steps and takes my hand.

“Ready?”

When have I ever been ready for
anything with this man? I’m constantly taken by surprise when
I’m with him. I nod and he speaks to the porter in
French—surprise!—before leading me up the steps. I’m
about to ask him if he’s fluent, but the words die on my lips.

I can’t believe what I’m
seeing. The lobby is an airy masterpiece of French Regency design
with gilded molding and cream and light blue walls. Elaborate rugs
create a walkway over a parquet floor, leading to a formal seating
area with deep red loveseats and mahogany chairs.

“Marie Antoinette is going
to pop out any minute, isn’t she?”

He looks up from his phone and
attempts a smile. My attention returns solely to him. He’s been
on and off his phone for most of the flight. Whatever problem brought
us here must be big.

I was hoping I could drag him
straight to bed and return the come-your-brains-out favor, but he’s
here for business, not pleasure.

“Everything okay?”

He sighs. “I’m sorry,
Juliet, but this issue won’t wait. I was hoping to have some
time to show you around, but I need to meet with everyone right away.
Jean Luc will show you to our suite. Anything you need, just let him
know.”

I’m disappointed, but I
realize just how tired I am all of a sudden. Even with the nap on the
plane, my internal clock is all over the place. It’s five AM in
Chicago right now, and my body is screaming out for sleep. “That’s
fine,” I tell him. “I’ll take a rest, you go take
care of the company.”

The concierge shows me to the
suite. I nearly drop my purse when I walk in. It’s…awe-inspiring.
High ceilings, elegant artwork on the walls, incredible views. Jean
Luc gives me a tour through the four room suite, filled with
billowing lavender curtains, teardrop chandeliers and antique
furniture. “Is there anything madam requires?” he asks,
his accented words charming me.

“No, thank you.” I
stop in the middle of the room, wondering if I’m supposed to
tip him, but Jean Luc has already retreated, closing the door behind
him.

I wander to the windows in a
daze. A serving cart has champagne on ice, a bowl of fruit and a
truffle tower.

This. Is. Crazy!

So crazy that I can barely keep
my eyes open. I go lay down in the bedroom and spread my hands over
the embroidered satin coverlet. The coolness of the fabric is
soothing as I close my eyes…just for a minute…