I Choose You (The Billionaire Brothers Series) (27 page)

Cool as a cucumber, Trevillo closed the car door behind him and leaned back against it with his arms crossed over his chest. Tilting his head, he looked at me around Jahleel, gaze unwavering, non-blinking, and just said, “Krissy?”

That’s it? That’s all he was going to say?

But then I realized what he wanted was for me to make it clear I was his. He said he wanted me to be ‘Trev’s’, and I agreed to that. He proved as much when he attacked Mark and Carlos two weeks ago. Now his silence was telling me he respected my brother enough to not pick a fight with him, so the matter was left to me. He hadn’t spared a single glance at Jahleel as his gaze remained on me, and I knew he wouldn’t reply a single word to Jahleel either, no matter what vitriolic words he spewed. Because
I
needed to choose.

Without breaking Trevillo’s gaze, I told Jahleel, “Breathe easy, JK.”

Jahleel turned to look at me, and then back at Trevillo, a tic jumping his jaw. Leaning in to me, he gritted out, “Hope you know what you’re doin’, bad girl.”

He strode off to his motorbike, jerked on his helmet, and roared off down the street.

Stuffing my hands in the back pockets of my jeans, I turned to Trevillo. “Listen, Trev — ”

“No, Krissan,
you
listen,” he ground out in a voice that told me his patience was now a thing of the past. “I’m not a pussy. But I’ve been an all-out fucking pussy since I met you. I’ve change
a lot
in the manner in which I do things just to appease you. I’ve never had a woman tell me what I can or cannot do before. It’s usually the other way around. I can’t buy you whatever the fuck I want because you don’t want to be ‘lavished’, you don’t want me to take you to functions, you don’t want to move in with me, and you want to keep us a
fucking secret
… ”

He trailed off on an angry blow of breath and shoved a furious hand through his hair. “I’m not cut out for this restrictions bullshit, Krissy — not unless it’s in the bedroom. I can tolerate only so much and no more. So, if you don’t want me to go all fucked-up, non-verbal, alpha male on your ass, then you’ll accept this fucking car. It’s your birthday: that’s a valid reason to fucking lavish you. I’m tired of this shit.”

“I’ll take you either way!” I heard Marsha call from the doorway. “Pussy or Alpha. Either way, you’re
yummeeeee!
”

Irritated, I turned to see her standing in the doorway with her hands planted on her hips, grinning wide.

Just then, Saskia brushed past her. She stopped on the steps and looked over to the empty spot where Jahleel’s motorbike would be. She sighed and unzipped her purse-belt, took out a cigarette and lit up, just as a black limo pulled up on the curb. The driver came out and opened the back door, waiting.

Saskia looked over to the empty spot again, narrowed her eyes, took a long drag of her cigarette, and strode straight to the limo without uttering a word to anyone. I’d almost forgotten she was there. Jahleel was a major, major dick for just leaving her there like that.

“What’s it gonna be, Krissan?” Trevillo impatiently asked, yanking my attention back to him.

He didn’t seem to care a celebrity had just wandered out of my house and straight into a limousine as if it were a usual occurrence.

Tilting my head back, I looked up at him, thinking
this
Trevillo was more than enough for me. More than I could handle. “If this is your ‘pussy’, I don’t think I wanna know what your ‘alpha’ is like. So I guess I’ll accept the car.”

“Good,” he said, mollified and dragged me back up against him. “Now I get to take you home for the other birthday gift. The one that includes tongues and lips and hands and teeth and fingernails and lots of trembling and begging … ”

“Do I get to cuff you again?” I whispered, becoming breathless at the prospect. “Maybe to the bed this time?”

A hint of a smile danced across his lips. “Whatever you want, babe. Cuff me, whip me, lick me, cut me … ” He brushed his thumb across my cheek. “Pussy, remember?”

Unrequited Love

If only you had not looked upon me,
I would’ve not been beguiled.

If only you had not spoken to me,
I would’ve not been seduced.

If only you had not touched me,
I would’ve not been claimed.

If only you had not breathed upon me,
I would’ve not been owned.

My love,
Why did you
Look?
Speak?
Touch?
Breathe?

Why, my love,
Did you make me … ?
Make me fall in love
with you?
I see your eyes,
They hold no lies,
They hold no truth,
But instead the whys.

Command your lips
To speak
The lies,
The truths,
The whys.

Command your lips,
To tell …
Do you?
Do you love me as I
Do you?

Three weeks later …

“O
kay … okay. I promise; I’ll be on the next flight out … Yeah.”

Trevillo slammed down the phone with more force than needed to end the call. Rubbing his forehead, he thought,
one day to rest.

That’s all he needed, and even that seemed improbable. As soon as he cleared up one problem, another one arose, demanding his presence. Sometimes, like now, he resented being successful. But then again, it was sheer greediness, because he felt the need to get involved in every kind of business there was to spread his wings all over the goddamn world.

Now, despite the plans he had for the day, the urgent need for his presence was requested in the British Virgin Islands. There was a small slice of land there which he’d been in a squabble over for past thirty months.

With him being from the states, shit was challenging. The Queen preferred offing the island to a Brit citizen, and even though Trevillo was offering a tenth more than the others were offering, he was still getting a hard fight. Because, what he’d learned throughout this process was Brits weren’t about money, they were about roots. They were distinguished, and he respected that, but come hell or high water, he was going to get that island, even if it meant moving to the UK and switching from drinking large consumptions of coffee to sipping tea from tiny cups and nibbling teacakes from saucers. Anything to convince them he was deserving.

That island was worth it. It was the perfect slice of heaven he could transform into the resort of
all
resorts, smacked right in the middle of the ocean.

For that reason, this was an as-soon-as-possible take off, which meant he’d be canceling yet another night of plans with Krissan.

He knew she’d understand, though. She always did. Krissan wasn’t whiny, needy, or nagging, and handled situations with a heck of a lot more maturity than he expected. She understood the shit out of everything so much more than shit could even be understood, that Trevillo sometimes wished she
would
nag and complain. Wasn’t that of women’s nature?

He figured she just didn’t want the limited times they got together to be wasted on arguments. And he agreed. Because, on the real, she couldn’t
possibly
be all tranquil about the fact he left the state or country at least twice a week.

The beeping on his receiver hauled him from his thoughts, and he pressed the answer button. “What now, Milo?”

“Miss Sarah James is here to see you, sir.”

Right, because that’s just what he needed at the moment, wasn’t it?

Trevillo decided maybe it was time he started following his brother’s advice by being sure to send a prayer up to heaven before he left his house in the mornings. Maybe it would make getting through his insufferable 24 hours a lot easier.

It was Monday. One of his in-office days. So,
of course
, Sarah would pop up without appointment. The initial thought was to deny her visit, but with the knowledge of her recent tragedy, he was feeling somewhat sympathetic towards her. Trevillo tried reaching out to her a couple of times during the week-long media blast of Johnson James’ underworld discoveries, but he could never get hold of her, so he figured maybe she needed time to mourn.

Now it was six weeks later, and he was hoping she was over her husband’s death and wouldn’t crumble into a blubbering mess in his office, because he was inept when it came to bawling women.

“Send her in,” he said, and before he could even press the button on the receiver, Sarah was in his office, looking nothing like the mourning widow he expected.

In heels made for the nighttime, she wore a black skirt short enough to tempt men around the building to risk being sued for sexual harassment, and a red blouse with the three top buttons undone, exposing her spilling cleavage, while her long, dark hair flowed down her back and whispered around her hips.

Trevillo knew Sarah well enough to know she was dressed for seduction, and he suspected the person who was going to be seduced was him. Sucking in his cheeks, he cursed himself for his idiocy of feeling sympathetic towards her in the first place. He should’ve known this bitch never gave a shit about her husband. Dead or alive.

Eyeing her warily, he got up from behind his desk and rounded it to perch on the front, crossing his legs at the ankles. Disguising his features in a sympathetic expression, he started, “Sarah. It’s nice to see you’re holding up well. I’ve tried reaching out — ”

Trevillo forgot whatever bullshit he was about to spew when Sarah dipped inside her cleavage, took out a pocketknife, and flicked it open in one smooth go. The sweet sound of the knife flicking open lingered in the air.

Like he said, the woman was there to seduce.

Walking up to him without a word — Sarah wasn’t a talker during her seduction sessions, she just did what she knew would make a man give in — she pressed the blade of the knife against his lips, and Trevillo tried to send a message to his cock that this wasn’t the woman it should be muscling up for, but his cock wouldn’t listen. Instead, it hardened against Sarah’s touch the second she rubbed her palm over it.

He tried to remain stoic, knowing it would be wrong to Krissan if he gave in to this sex fiend. However, his lungs, too, were betraying him, as his breathing grew ragged when Sarah carefully trailed the blade of the knife down his lips, down his chin, down his neck, where she paused, then looked up at him and flashed an
‘I got you
’ smile.

His cock got even harder.

Shit.

This was bad.

Really bad.

He knew it was bad. Yet he couldn’t control his reactions.

In all seriousness, though, this was
Sarah James
here. The female version of himself. The seductress of all seductresses. The face you’d see next to the word ‘nymphomaniac’ in the dictionary. Resisting her wasn’t the easiest thing in the world to do, for any man; even he had to admit that. Especially when she knew every little dangerous thing he liked. Things he was trying
not
to like because it was insalubrious. Proclivities he’d successfully locked away since Krissan.

Until Sarah James showed her goddamned face.

Moving the knife from his neck, Sarah made one swift swipe and slashed his shirt open, buttons flying everywhere. Trevillo took a deep breath and glanced down to see if she’d cut him, and sighed in relief when he saw there wasn’t a single scratch.

She was good.

She was also fucking crazy.

“Sarah,” he tried to resist, “I can’t — ahhh … ”

He groaned when she leaned in and bit hard on one nipple while she used the pointed tip of the knife to gently press into the other one. Her tongue swirled around one while the blade pushed into the other as deep as possible without drawing blood.

He wouldn’t lie and say it didn’t feel amazing.

But it also felt wrong.

Krissan
, he thought ruefully.

That lent him enough strength to push her away, and she stumbled back a bit. “Stop fucking touching me, Sarah.”

But in a flash, she rushed back up to him, grabbed his face, and kissed him. He didn’t kiss her back. Her lips weren’t soft or plump or red.

They weren’t Krissan’s.

Though his restraint was tenuous, he pushed her off again. “I said
stop!
”

“Don’t deny me, Trev, or I’ll slit your fucking face open. I swear it.”

Her threat was made in such a sultry voice, Trevillo wondered if she was serious or not.

Sarah then laughed bitterly, shaking her head. “But then again, you’d just
love
that, wouldn’t you? You like it
dangerous
. I could twist this knife in your heart and you’d have an orgasm from dying.” Licking her lips, she moved in closer to whisper, “You twisted fuck.”

She pulled open her blouse and unsnapped the front of her bra so that her savory pink-nipple tits were right there in front him, and Trevillo thought this must be some sort of punishment or something. How was a man supposed to climb his way out of a temptation such as this?

If there was ever an enticement to be deemed as the hardest to resist, it would be an unwilling man being seduced by a bodacious, almost physically perfect woman.

“Touch me, Trev,” she begged.

But he didn’t, because he was only one woman’s fool:
Krissan’s
.

When she realized he wasn’t going to touch her, and he was keeping his eyes trained on her face instead of her tits, a shade of sadness passed over her face.

“Does she know, Trev? That you like it dangerous?” she asked as she started to sink down to her knees. “I bet not. She’d run.”

He guessed she was referring to Krissan, but he didn’t respond, because he wouldn’t want to utter the wrong words. The bitch had a knife in her hand. And for all he knew, she was some bitter widow wanting blood for her husband’s that was shed.

One could never tell with Sarah James.

True, it was because he
had
liked it dangerous that he’d ended up screwing her longer than the others. She was good at danger — she was good at every damn thing, to be honest.