Bare Skin: A Billionaire Romance (13 page)

Then she was there, placed on the dish for me. It was hard for me to not say I wanted her, to not grab her violently and wrap her up so tightly she'd never be able to escape.

Especially after that night.

And what I had said was tamed, but only because Dana was there. If I had let the words out that were flying around my skull, Willow's head would have blown clear off her neck.

Normally I didn't ever go to meetings with anyone else there. I needed to read my investment, feel out their motives and inner desire to make it all work.

But Dana had been very adamant that she was coming this time. She said her client was extremely nervous, and she wanted to support to her, but wouldn't interfere with my side of things.

Because it was my money, not hers. And she knew how important it was for me to read their faces, their bodies. I had to see them for myself, and another mouth meant more input, more ways to feed the bullshit if it was thrown my way.

I hate to be bullshitted.

Had I known it was Willow... I would have cut her demand in two and fed her the pieces.

“Yeah, you should have been more professional. But it's a little late for that. So you have yourself a nice day.” A taxi pulled up to the curb, her hand stretching out swiftly for the handle.

Throwing the door open on the car, she slipped inside, speaking quietly to the driver. My eyes were drawn to her thigh immediately, my signature bright and bold across her skin. A smile split across my face, and I couldn't stop it from shining.

“At least if you won't let me help you now...” Pointing to the succulent skin of her leg, I said, “That will help you in place of me.”

Rolling her eyes, she tried to slam the door shut, but I held it strong. I wasn't ready to let her go, not now, not ever. And not without setting up another meeting.

“I don't know how people around here know you did this, but I'm wearing pants for the rest of my life.”

Jabbing a hand to my heart, I stumbled backwards. “That one hurt, Princess.”

“Didn't I tell you to stop calling me that, you know my name.” Her eyes flicked up, lids slit.

“Willow, yes, it's a name I've enjoyed dreaming about.”

“You really can't stop yourself, can you?” A devious smirk curved her lip, head shaking side to side.

“Nope, I can't, not with you. And just think, everyday you'll get to think of me. Whether it's when you shower, or lotion, or the next time someone moves out of your way. You'll think of me, and that was the point.”

“The point? How can everyone around here know you gave me this?” Arching a brow, small crinkles rode the bridge of her nose.

I had the urge to stroke her face, slide my fingers down her nose and smooth the confusion from her hardened gaze.

“You haven't noticed it yet?”

“Noticed what?”

“Take a good look at the tree, you'll see it.”

Glancing down, Willow gave her leg a momentary stare. “I don't see anything. Look I have to go, I don't have time for your games.”

“You'll see it, eventually.”

“Okay,”
she said, her words mimicking the same tone as her eyes. Annoyance.

I knew what she was really thinking. Willow thought I was full of myself, that I was a conceded bastard that was spoiled and always got what he wanted.

And she was right.

I made this, I made the Kash I was now.

The money, the notoriety; it was the exact same thing that she wanted, the same life she hoped to achieve.

Why else would she need an investor?

What she failed to realize was I could give her that, I could give her anything she ever wanted, and more.

“Let's do this again.”

“No. I don't think so.” She laughed, the cold hum buzzed off her lips.

And my cock shook.

“Seriously, let's do this meeting again. But let's do it over dinner.”

Her hand fell hard into her lap. “Are you kidding me? After all this, not a chance.”

“Hey, you wanted an investor, and that's me. Let's do this right. Meet me at seven at Toujours tonight. Come dressed fancy, and ready to sell yourself.”

“One,” she said, raising a single finger. “I don't own anything fancier than this. Two—” A second finger tangoed with the other. “Why would I ever do that after how you acted?”

“Because you want to, and you want more than just your art to sell.” With hooded lids, a delicate smirk lifted against my jaw. Drawing my thumb over her cheek, she sat motionless, fingers squeezing a death grip around her sparkly silver clutch. “Seven, don't be late.”

And with that I turned and strolled off. Whistling a tune I couldn't remember the words to, and a verse that I'd never understand. I let the music fill my body and warp her image into the muse of my evening.

“I'm not promising anything!” She yelled from the safety of the taxi, as my feet led me further and further away.

Willow would be there. I knew she would, it would be stupid for her to pass on this opportunity.

How was I sure?

Because her body shuddered under my touch, her lids lowered to cover half her eyes.

And the warmth of skin turned to red hot flames when my hand grazed her face.

That was all I needed to see and feel.

She would be there.

Willow

N
o, I'm not going. Screw him, screw his money.

I don't need it. I'll do this myself.

Flipping through my closet, I tugged out every dress I had that remotely looked fancy enough for Toujours. Spreading the used fabrics across the comforter, I pined away at which one would stand out the least in a restaurant like that.

Toujours was renowned for its glitzy glam décor, high profile customers, and everything that screamed,
'I'm rich! Go on, you can look at me.'

I wasn't surprised to see none of the dresses I had fit the bill. Not one carried enough dazzle to stand up to a restaurant like that.

There were two made of cotton, speckled in small flowers, with no shape. Another had a huge wine stain from a night out with Beth (Not my stain by the way), and the last two had long thin tears in the lower skirts where they had been caught in the washing machine on a rough spin cycle.

Thank you 'well-maintained' machines from the local Clean and Dry laundromat. Dragging my hands down over open lips, I stared blankly at my heap of junk dresses.

Nope, not going. Why did I even debate it?

Because deep down he was coiling around my gut like a boa constrictor, digging his fangs into my core and pulling me in.

Kash had two sides, I hadn't expected that. He wasn't just some bad ass tattoo artist who tickled my sensitive button in a moment of weakness; he was a man of business, a man of money.

From what little Dana had told me about the so-called investor, 'Theodore,' she said had done wonders for this city. He gave to so many people who needed the help, he made them, lifted them up, and gave them all a chance.

I wanted that chance, needed that chance. But when Kash walked through that door, my entire dreams deflated and blew away.

He was pompous, self centered, and didn't even bother to take our meeting with any grain of seriousness. He strolled around my paintings like a breeze through an open window, gently stroking the frames and his feral need to make me blush.

And blush I did.

Between his distinct cologne that swarmed my senses, and his not so subtle remarks that inflamed images of his touch; the man had me changing every shade of red in less than ten minutes. He took our meeting and turned it into a damn foreplay session.

So why should I give him a second chance?

This sucks! I really needed this!

My last resort was attempting to land a bank loan. But that would never happen, I had nothing to give the bank in return; no solid job, no cash to pay them back. I couldn't have due dates, and interest added on that was more than half the payment of what I would owe.

An investor was my best hope. They could give money to start me off, let me get settled, and have a decent time frame set up for me to make them their money back.

My mind kept drifting back to Kash in his suit. The way his muscles thrashed beneath the fabric, teasing my eyes and hot center. The bulges of his arms worked to be freed, as if the suit was denying them of air when he stroked my cheek with his thumb.

And in my head I wanted to feel them around me, feel him scoop me up and let his arm take charge of my body.

The feel of his thick finger as it pressed deep inside, the tingles that shocked my system as he fondled my clit, tempting my body to give in; a cold sweat saturated my back, reliving that feeling in one sudden flash.

I couldn't stop the prickles from riding my hairline, traversing my skin and hitting my brain. Kash was able to induce sheer pleasure, without a word. His eyes, his body, they said it all.

God damn! Why is he doing this to me?

How is he doing this to me?

Shaking my head, I threw myself down onto the hoard of crappy, twenty dollar thrift shop dresses. I hated the feeling crawling across my insides.

I wanted him, I needed him, and that was the truth.

But I hated how he expected me to give in, how he thought he could take advantage of me.

Did he take advantage?

I didn't say no.

I didn't say anything.

I let him, I gave in to him. And I would have given him all of me had Beth not come back.

Deep down I knew if he had tempted me with his cock, I would've let him in. Kash could have done anything to me in that moment, anything he wanted.

And I would have accepted it with open thighs, just like I took his hand.

The high pitched buzz of my doorbell sounded. Confused, I sprung up from the bed and peeked outside. The sidewalk was empty, except for the random people walking by.

What the hell? Who rang the bell?

Walking to the door, I jammed my eye into the small peep hole. Looking around the tiny area of my hallway, there was no sight of a person.

Weird. It must have been an accident.

Tugging the door slowly open, I inched my head out. I didn't want to let down my guard. There were plenty of crazy people in this city, the last thing I wanted was some psycho shoving me back inside, and trying to rob me...
Or worse.

Shuddering at the thought, I was about to close the door when I noticed a white box on my welcome mat.

O
kay, now this is bizarre.

The box looked like your typical white clothing box with a long stem red rose secured to the lid with a pink ribbon. Leaning out into the hall, I twisted my head around side to side, but the hall was empty.

How did this get here?

Confusion was raking my brain. My bell had been rung, but I didn't buzz anyone in. The hall was ghostly quiet, but there was a mystery gift placed at my door.

Cautiously, I picked up the box, holding it out like it was a diseased garment. You can never be too careful, what if it was explosive and decided to fire off when I lifted it up?

Come on, Willow. Who would blow you up?

Get a grip.

Taking one last look around, there wasn't a sound. No feet, no voices, not even the whispered chirp of my neighbors bird made it out into the hall.

Closing the door, I locked the deadbolt, just staring at the mysterious box.

A small note was stuffed under the flower, hidden almost completely by the large bloom on top. I was surprised I even noticed it.

Pulling it out, the paper was folded, tight crisp edges held it closed in my hand. Peeling back the seams, I took a deep breath as I read the message.

'Willow,

Please accept my gift. This should be perfect for tonight, it will fit your body like it was made for you. A gorgeous dress for a gorgeous girl.

I hope you like the color, I haven't had the chance to ask you what your favorite is.

Maybe tonight will be that night, if you'll let me.

See you soon, Kash'

My hand began to shake, dropping the note to the floor. I didn't really know what to make of his gift.

How did he know where I live?

I wasn't sure if I should be creeped out, or flattered that he thought of me. A million questions flooded my mind.

Do I open it?

Do I throw it like it was poisoned?

Curiosity was clawing over my hands, teasing my fingers over the bow. And it won.

I hated not knowing what was in that box, I hated the idea of discarding it without at least taking a tiny peek.

Pulling the ribbon off the box, I lifted the top off, and my entire body came to a slamming halt.

Short breaths hit my lungs, my eyes expanding past their limit. The silky sheen of a deep red dress lit up when the light hit it. Running my fingers over the fabric, I was amazed at how delicate and smooth it felt under my hand.

Tucking my fingers under the straps, I lifted the dress from its cardboard tomb.

Wow. Oh wow.

The gown was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It sparkled, dancing in a rhythm of its own even without a body inside it.

The front was smooth and sexy plain, but the back... That was where the detail and design flourished. The hem draped into a v-shape, high fashion lace filled in low at the center. A small train spilled off the end, glittery flowers highlighted the base, as if a small bushel had been tossed over the material.

I'm pretty sure the entire time I stared at the gown my jaw was just hanging open, resting on my chest.

I can't accept this, it looks so expensive. What is it...Mulberry silk?

I can't take this. Can I?

He did say it was a gift.

It probably doesn't even fit.

Holding the dress against my body, I let the silk drape over my arm. It was the softest material I had ever felt against my flesh, as if honey and delicate rose petals had merged into one.

Kash's hands swept my mind, reminding me of how soft they were against my skin. He had been so gentle, and so fierce. Each finger digging and stroking, caressing and mauling; it was pleasure and pain all wrapped up in one set of hands.

His hands were rough, the hands of man who worked long hard hours. But his tender touch was velvet against my body.