Billionaire Romance Boxed Set (9 Book Bundle) (100 page)

“Me?” I asked, stunned. “I didn’t
do anything!”

But, thinking back, was I really blameless? He
told me we couldn’t go further, we could only be friendly towards one another,
but I disregarded that. I wanted more, practically thought I needed more,
and… well, the current situation spoke for itself, really. I’d pushed
too hard, and now I sat here waiting for a man I barely knew to drive me home.

“I’m not saying you did do something,”
Jeremy added after the fact. “I’m saying that’s what it looks
like. You don’t seem the type, though. Too soft.”

“What do you mean I’m too soft?” I said,
perturbed. “I’m not too soft.”

“Oh, yeah?” he asked, some mischievous smirk
on his face.

“I’m not!”

“Well…”

This was a bad omen, and I knew it, but I let his
word, his expression, the hint of deception lilting in everything he did, stoke
the faint hint of hope I had within me. This man, Jeremy, knew more about
Asher than I could possibly know, and if he said something was truth, anecdotal
or not, it probably was true. I didn’t want to be a tie, something so
easily cut and discarded, assuaged with a gift basket and maybe some fancy
letter stating that he wished me the best of luck. I refused.

And, Jeremy told me what he was thinking. He
mentioned a few details, quite clearly stating he shouldn’t mention these to
me, and that whatever meaning I took from them was not his problem.
Listening to him, I gained a newfound appreciation for my breakfast and
heartily ate everything on my plate. Besides the fact that it was
delicious, I thought I should prepare for the day in a proper manner. We
finished eating, and then Jeremy stood to leave.

“So, are you coming?” he asked
pointedly. “Asher told me to drive you home.”

“No,” I said. “I’m not.”

Jeremy shrugged. “Well, I
tried.” With that, he left, but not before laughing and giving me a
friendly wave.

I didn’t really understand it all. I don’t know
what I was thinking, or how I expected to do any of this, but I’d decided to do
it. What was the worst that could happen? Probably quite a bit,
actually. Asher could return, find out I was still here, call the police,
have me taken into custody, potentially file charges against me for multiple
reasons, true or not. A man as rich as him could probably do almost
anything he wanted, and…

Why was I thinking about these things? Be
strong, Jessika! I told myself this, but I felt anything but.
Still, I needed to do this, or do nothing, and if I did nothing I felt like I
would regret it forever.

…

“What do you mean she refused to leave?”
Asher asked. He had a chance to call Jeremy on a short break between
meetings and this was not at all what he expected to hear. Why had he
called, though? He didn’t really know, and he didn’t know how he felt
about what Jeremy was saying, either.

“Sorry, boss. I told her I was there to bring
her home, and she said she wasn’t leaving.” Jeremy paused, then
added, “What do you want me to do? Call the police?”

Asher hesitated. He wanted to say yes, because
that’s what people in his position said, right? She was, while not
exactly trespassing, not currently welcome on his property. And…

“No,” Asher said. “She’ll
leave. Go check on her at noon and tell her I told her she needs to
leave.”

“Right. She needs to leave or what?”
Jeremy asked.

Asher blinked. Or what? “Don’t
mention that part. There won’t be any reason to. She’ll
leave. I’m sure of it.”

Jeremy laughed. “Alright. You’re the
boss.”

Asher furrowed his brow, frowning. There was
something more to this, and Jeremy must know about it, but for the life of him
Asher couldn’t figure it out.

…

I wandered through the guest house. It was
bigger than I thought. The main living area I’d spent the night in was
most of the first floor, then the kitchenette area added in, too. On the
second floor, as I’d suspected, were two bedrooms. They looked tidy and
unused and completely perfect, like they belonged in a fancy hotel instead of a
home. Closets in each room with empty hangers and a small safe tucked
into the back corner. Nothing in either safe, and in each room both of
them were wide open, but it added to the perfection of the place. Nice
rooms, but completely inhospitable in my opinion. I could sleep in one
for a night, but not for a lifetime.

A little clutter was nice. Not too much, but
enough. Maybe a shirt draped across the back of a chair, or a couple of
tissues tossed into a bedside waste basket. A partially used candle on
the bedside table, or a picture on the wall slightly tilted. Not enough
for anyone to really notice, but something that, over time, the person living
there would realize.

And you never changed those things, because it became
a part of the house. I didn’t know about Asher’s upbringing, but that’s
how mine was. Quiet and quaint, and while I lived in a city for most of
my life, it still felt like I was isolated from the rest of the world
sometimes.

For good measure, I mussed up the bed. I pulled
back a corner of the sheets and tousled them so that the bed didn’t looked
perfect anymore. Mostly perfect, but not quite. I opened the
unopened box of tissues on the bedside table and tossed one into the
wastebasket. Then I washed my hands in the bathroom connected to the
master bedroom and left soap residue on the back of the sink.

And… the shower? Hm.

I needed to take one, because. Besides the fact
that I showered every day, I especially needed one soon. After my
intimate moment with Asher last night, I hadn’t had a chance to clean off, and
I knew I must not be at my freshest. Jeremy hadn’t said anything, but I
had the feeling Jeremy wasn’t the type of person to notice, or complain, about
that kind of thing in the first place.

I turned on the shower and slipped out of my clothes,
scandalously deciding to leave the door to the bathroom open. If Asher
showed up, could he resist the temptations of my slippery, seductive
body? Covered in soap and suds and bubbles, clean and perfect and…?

Perhaps I was dreaming, but I enjoyed my dreams.
I checked the water temperature with my toes before stepping into the overlarge
tub. Jacuzzi-style, with a shower head up above and glass doors that
closed around it to keep the steam inside. On a whim, I stoppered the tub
and let it fill with water from the shower.

Small vials of soap rested on a shelf built into the
tiled wall. While the tub filled with water, I browsed through my
options. Regular shampoos, conditioners, body wash, and… yes!
Bubbles and scented salts. I tossed the entirety of both into the rising
water(not that this was a lot, seeing as they were more like sample size
bottles, but still). Immediately the scent of fresh lavender rose up, and
then the bubbles trickled forth with the turmoil of the shower water. I
moved the showerhead so it sprayed towards my feet, then sat in the bubbling
water.

It felt so nice. I had a bathtub at my
apartment, but it was nothing like this. Utilitarian at best, and put in
just so the landlord could say it had a bathtub, mainly. If I stood in
it, the water barely came to the bottom of my knees, and only then if I let the
tub overflow. In Asher’s bathtub, when it was full, I could sink
completely beneath the water if I wanted. The water lifted up, rising
higher, covering my legs, then my raised knees, creeping up my stomach towards
my breasts, and higher still until only my head remained above water.
When this happened, I drifted towards the shower knobs and twisted them,
stopping the water. I suppose I could have used the conventional faucet
to till the tub, but I liked showers since they spread the bubbles more.

I lounged in the water, satisfied. The bubbles
and salts made my skin feel silky and soft and wonderfully clean, despite the
fact I hadn’t done anything other than sit in the water-filled tub. I lay
back, stretched out, and kicked my feet onto the sides of the bathtub, content.

Inadvertently, my toes must have pressed some button,
and suddenly the jacuzzi jets in the tub switched on. Jet bubbles sprayed
every this way and that. I sputtered, caught off guard, attacked by
streams of bubbles. Confused and disoriented, I sunk beneath the water
for a second, dousing my head and coming up half-blind with water in my eyes.

Trying to regain my balance, I lifted myself up so
that I knelt in the tub instead of leaning back. I wiped my eyes with my
hand, but it didn’t help as much as I would have liked seeing as my arm was
drenched, too. The jets became an afterthought, water bubbling briskly
around me. Or, they were an afterthought until I scooched forward to open
the glass shower doors and grab a towel from the towel rack.

The jets assailed my body, hitting my arms and legs
and sides. None of those bothered or interested me. One particular
jet, at the angle I sat, sprayed directly against my crotch, though. I
gasped as it struck me. Sliding forward, shocked at the extreme sensation
of it teasing against my bare, intimate area, another jacuzzi jet shot a stream
of water against one of my breasts. My nipple vibrated, immediately
hardening, and I let out a slight moan.

My God! Asher’s bathtub was seducing me.
Maybe, not quite, and I laughed at the thought, but it kind of was in a
way? I wondered what it would be like having sex in a hot tub. Nice
and warm, floating in the water. Slow, gentle, with the magnificent smell
of scented soaps and salts all around me. Up and down, my shoulders and
arms slipping out of the warmth of the water to the cooler air above, then back
in again. Slippery beyond belief, and so simple and easy. I
pictured Asher holding me by the hips, guiding me towards his hard cock,
pulling me onto him with urgent need.

On my knees, I crawled backwards towards the first
offending jet. It tickled and teased at my slit. The bubbles glided
over me, into me, towards my clit and leaving a tempting trail up my
stomach. I don’t quite know why, but I decided it was a good idea to get
myself off in the bathtub. Because, why not?

The pressure from the water caressed against my body,
gentle and fresh, yet rough and demanding all at once. Like a massage
easing away the kinks in my body, the jacuzzi jets worked in the same
way. Except right now I had some other kinks in me that I needed taking
care of, and the water knew just how to do it. With my arms, I braced
myself against the side of the tub and arched my back. I imagined Asher
behind me, taking me hard, firm, telling me to hold still.

“Jessika,” he’d said last night while he
made love to me, “Stay still. Don’t move. I’m trying to take
your picture. I need you to keep your pose.”

It hardly mattered that he’d discarded the camera long
before in favor of holding my hips instead. It didn’t matter that he
couldn’t see the rest of my body with his chest pressed against me and his eyes
looking into mine, half-lidded and glazed over in pleasure. It didn’t
matter now that he wasn’t even home and I was doing this in his bathroom,
alone. I tried my best not to move, to keep my pose as best I could so
Asher could take my picture.

My back arched further, my breasts half in the
water. The thrashing water matched my mood and tossed against me, making
my breasts dance and sway. The jet of water behind me continually crashed
between my legs, exciting me beyond belief. Asher, behind me, like a
force of nature, wild and ravenous, a controlled, focused hurricane ravaging my
body.

I held my pose for as long as I could until my
thoughts abandoned me, my climax overtook me, and I slipped into the water,
pleasure wreaking havoc on my body. I fell under, completely covered, the
jets spraying me without a care. Once my shoulder touched the bottom of
the tub, my spasming body feeling so delightful and nice, the jets suddenly
turned off. On a timer, no doubt, but their timing was impeccable.

I lay in the water, curling my legs towards my body,
letting myself float slowly up to the surface. At the top, I reluctantly
lifted myself out of the water and gasped for air. I felt a little silly
for having to remind myself to breathe, but no one was around to see it so what
did it matter?

Once I felt like I was able to stand, my legs
wobbling, I unstoppered the tub. Getting to my feet, listening to the
rush of water draining from the bath, I twisted the knobs to turn the shower
back on. I showered for real this time, ignoring the pleasant feel of the
water beading across my bare body. Asher’s guest house shampoo and
conditioner weren’t my preferred brands, but they would have to do.
Washing my hair and body, I finished what I started and cleaned myself off.

Done, wrapping my body in a pure white towel from the
towel rack, I stepped out of the tub and looked back. Not quite perfect,
but I thought I’d managed to properly defile the bathtub enough to make it seem
cozy and warm. Once I finished drying myself off, I tossed the towel in a
heap next to the bathtub.

Should I dress, or wear the bathrobe hanging on a hook
on the back of the door? The bathrobe tempted me, but I chose my clothes
instead.