Billionaire Brothers 2 : Love Has A Name (17 page)

BOOK: Billionaire Brothers 2 : Love Has A Name
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Now
I’m
being scolded. “Me?”

“Yes, you. Why are you always so serious and bitchy?”

My shoulders jerked in a shrug. “It’s just who I am. Wanna be my friend, then you gotta accept it.”

Sitting back in the seat, he narrowed his eyes at me contemplatively, his forefinger running to and fro on his lower lip. What on earth was he concocting now? “Whatever it is that you’re planning, Pretty Boy, I won’t play.”

White teeth glistened through a crooked smile. “Whatever on earth would make you think I’m planning something, beauts?”

I leaned forward and rested my elbows on the table. “Because I know you. And you’re never up to any good.”

“You might be right.” Mirroring my actions, he leaned in, eyes to eyes, nose to nose. “Just how much are you always in control?”

Without a thought, I answered, “All the time.”

“Even in bed?”

“That’s where I exert it the most.”

He leaned closer, our noses touching. “Even with me? Think you could remain in control with me?”

“Especially with you.” What on earth possessed me to say that?

“And you’re sure about that?”

“Positive.” Oh hell, I need a bridle on my mouth!

He circled his nose around the tip of mine. “I want you to prove it.”

“Cute clichéd attempt to get me to have sex with you, Pretty Boy,” I laughed to cover my anxiety. “I thought you had better game than that. You disappoint me.”

“Never said anything about having sex with you. I’m just gonna make you lose control. The sex is what you’re gonna
beg
for.”

A scoff flew from me and I knew I was about to say something stupid again. “Never happened before. Can’t ever happen. Again, Nelson, you’re going after an impossible goal.”

Pretty Boy Nelson trailed the tip of his nose up to the bridge of mine so that his lips settled on my quivering ones. “Come back to my loft with me, and I’ll show you just how
easy
it is.”

Dios …
Me and my big, boastful mouth. Control was my game, it’s where my confidence rested. So why had my heart fallen off beat all of a sudden? Why were the backs of my knees feeling so weak and boneless? What was that weird unfurling in my abdomen? There’s no way I could be afraid of him, could I? No way. Maybe it was the crappy junk food that was making me feel like this, making my eyelids lower and my lips part infinitesimally. Was I drowsy? Yes, I believe so. Research has proved that junk food makes the body drowsy and lazy, so, yes, I believe it’s the junk food. It wasn’t Lovello. It wasn’t him at all.

“Tick … tick … tick … I’m waiting for an answer, beauts.” His smile morphed into a smirk. “Don’t think you can stay in control in a room with just …
you
… and …
me
?” He was stretching his words so devilishly sexy that before I could stop it, a flow of warm secretion rushed between my thighs in excitement, my legs automatically squeezing themselves together.

Jesus …

Why on earth would I want to be alone in a room with this man who could undo me with just his words? A light shiver washed over me and I shifted uneasily in my chair. Lovello ran his tongue around the curves of my lips, then took my lower lip between his teeth and slowly applied pressure. Unable to help it, a whimper weaseled through me and I instantly wanted more of him. Every damned inch of him.

Lovello pulled away and slanted a smile. “That’s what I thought.”

“No, you’re wrong,” I barely breathed out. “I was going to answer you. But you keep doing … um, things like that to me.”

“Doing things like what?” His eyes danced with humor. “What do I do to you, Axia?”

Bastard.
No way was I going to give him the satisfaction he’s seeking. “I can hold my wits, you cocky sonuvabitch bitch. I’ll show you.” Pushing back my chair with a screech, I stood up. “Come on. Your loft. It’s on.”

Lovello cocked his head to the left and looked at me, his teeth sinking into his damnable lip. He then cocked his head to the right, scrutinizing me with such intensity that I wanted to scream.

“Are you coming or not, Pretty Boy?”

He pushed back in his chair and stood up, trying to hide a smile by keeping his teeth sunken down on his lip. His eyes remained stuck on me as he dipped into his pocket and tossed a few bills on the table. “At your word, beauts.”

Not wanting him to see the flaming desire in my eyes, I turned and started to tread ahead of him. In a second, his hands came around my waist from behind, his lips on my ear lobe, but I didn’t stop. I continued to tread out of the restaurant with him taking awkward steps behind to keep up his ear-nibbling, never minding the only other two customers staring at us. There was this stupid, toothy, teenager-girl smile on my face and I was glad for the fact that he couldn’t see it. Oh how good it felt to have him touching me like this again.

My new addiction …

Lovello held my hand throughout the drive to his loft. Our hands separated briefly for him to park, unplug his iPod from the car system and exit the car. Hands were instantly rejoined once we were out of the car, still intact in the elevator, still intact when we entered his loft — which I didn’t get to see much of because he made no stops and headed straight for his bedroom.

He pulled me into his wide, modernistic bedroom, shutting the door behind us, then continued over to a Surround System in the left corner and connected his iPod, pulling me under his arm as he skipped through his playlists. He settled on a song titled
Glow in the Dark
by Chris Brown, pressed Play and then set it on Repeat. Definitely not a song I’d ever heard before.

With mischievousness flashing in his eyes, Lovello turned and finally let go of my hand. Taking a few steps back from me, he folded his arms across his chest and mouthed, “Take off your top.”

One eyebrow arched up. “How is giving me orders —”

“Control is not about being fractious and stubborn, Axia. No, that’s immaturity. Control is being able to withstand anything. Following instructions well, as good as giving them. Control is knowing how to play it on both sides. You can’t do that, then you lose.”

Mierda
… He’s unfairly smart. I forgot that I was messing around with a genius, and was beginning to realize that I’d monumentally screwed myself. With no further rebuttals, I brought my hands to the hem of my top, pulled it over my head, rolled it in a ball and tossed it at his chest. Of course, it bounced off and landed at his feet. In here, in his bedroom, with the sexiness of that song circling around us, Lovello’s normally jovial expression wasn’t present. No, he was at high levels of intensity. Devilish. It both turned me on and made me cower. What was he going to do?

He began walking around me to the slow, languorous beat of the music, his arms crossed over his chest, while I followed him with my eyes. He stopped in front of me again and mouthed, “Jeans.”

Learning my lesson from his earlier instruction, my hands nimbly went for the button of my jeans, toeing off my loafers at the same time.

“Slowly,” he drawled. “There’s no rush, beauts.”

I let my actions match the smooth, steady beat of the song. Damn, this song was titillatingly torturous. Once my jeans were off, Lovello began circling me again. At that time the singer said something about being impatient to touch his lover, and I squeezed my eyes shut in agony, thinking that’s exactly how I was feeling with Lovello not touching me at all.

I sighed when his fingers barely brushed my skin as he deftly unhooked my bra from behind. He made sure to let his fingers touch me as little as possible as he pulled my bra off and discarded it. Just once, he circled me again before settling behind me. His hands were next in my hair as he pulled out my hair tie, causing my hair to fall down my shoulders.

It was almost unbelievable that I was standing there, so still and under his spell, allowing him to do all this. Word, this wasn’t me. Wasn’t my style. Yet it felt
so
good with him, and I was eager, anxious, excited to see what he was going to do to me. New juices trickled to wet my panties again. I’d lost count of how many times that had happened since I came into his room.

Lovello’s fingers skimmed against the nape of my neck as he gathered my hair to one side. Hot breath caressed my ears as he whispered, “Your hair feels and smells so good. Been wanting to run my fingers through it for a while now.”

My breasts were bare and aching in the cool air. But Lovello wasn’t touching them. In fact, he was touching me as little as possible, and I was wondering if this was part of his game.

Obviously!

He used just the tip of his forefingers to trail down my shoulders, down my arms, sliding over my middle fingers, making a U-turn through my palms, and made his way back up my inner arms. When he was all the way up my inner arm, he curved and trailed his fingers down my sides, as if he were drawing the shape of my body. When his fingers reached my hips, he stopped and brought his hands behind me to cup whatever fraction of my ass his hands could. I wasn’t bragging, but my ass was beyond average size.

“This…” he hissed out while squeezing my butt cheeks. “Drives. Me.
Insane.
“ He grabbed my hips and pulled me back hard against him, then circled his hips into me. By this time, I was panting, dripping wet. Too out of breath and numbed to have even one cognitive thought.

My eyes fluttered down and I made a slight moan when I felt his fingers trailing the edges of my panties. Slowly, he dragged his fingers down the lace material and sucked in a sharp breath when he felt my wetness. Feeling his fingers on me was what I’d longed for since yesterday in the storage room, so I closed my eyes and let my head fall back on his chest as he stroked me through my soaked panties. I’d already lost, I knew, because when he touched me, there was nothing I could do. But melt.

Lovello tsked in my ear. “You are
very
wet, Axia. For how long have you been like this?” His voice was so smooth, melding with the music in the background. “Were you like this from the restaurant? Were you like this in the car on our ride here?” He ran his tongue from the dip behind my ear and down my neck. “I already know the answer. I was holding your hand the whole time, Axia. So I knew every single time you got wet, because your hand tensed.”

Dios …
the man was … He knew how to play me. How to read me. How to trick me. I was such a loser.

“What was your mind on, beauts? The prospect of feeling my mouth around your hard nipples? My tongue against your throbbing clitoris? The prospect of me filling you? What, Axia? What’s the cause of all this?”

My knees buckled. I could barely stand on my own two feet, let alone think through my addled brain to answer his questions. How did I get here? How did I get so weak? What has he done to me? Drugged me? Why was I so speechless and powerless under his touch?

Lovello pressed two fingers hard against my folds, and I mewled as my juice seeped through the lace of my panties and soaked his fingers. Raising his fingers, he passed them under my nose. “See how good you smell? Your scent’s been permeating the air of the room and, hell, it’s intoxicating.” He dipped his fingers inside his mouth and leisurely sucked them off. “Tastes damn good, too, beauts.”

Oh savior …
He was driving me insane.

All of a sudden, his touches were no more, and he was back in front of me. “Panties.”

Without hesitation I shoved down my panties and kicked them off. Good heavens, I wanted him.

His eyes leeringly traveled down my body. “You, Miss Axia Blacksille, have got to be the sexiest, most beautiful woman my hands have ever touched. Your body … is unbelievable. Take my word for it.”

I wanted to say something witty but kept quiet. That way he’d think I was somewhat in control of my … um … oh what the heck, who am I kidding? I’m never in control of any damn thing around this man. Not even my thoughts.

I took his hand when he held it out to me, letting him lead me to the bed. Thing is, he was fully dressed, while I was nude. So I was still trying to figure out what his game was. In pretense of having my wits about me, or that I didn’t want him to screw me into blindness, I managed to say, “I thought we weren’t going to have sex. I was up for the finger-play. Not…”

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