I Choose You (The Billionaire Brothers Series) (28 page)

Now, the danger felt wrong, bad, unhealthy, and he found he didn’t crave it anymore because …

He’d been fucked by an angel.

Sarah feverishly unzipped him, and before he could stop her, his cock was in her mouth. Trevillo’s hips jolted forward, and his head fell back when she sucked him with that deep suction only Sarah had. He’d
never
met another woman who sucked his dick as if she was trying to separate it from his body. Only Sarah James could do that.

Now that his cock was in her mouth, he knew he was screwed.

Big time.

Sarah dropped the knife and grabbed his thighs with her fingernails as she sucked him hard and fast and greedily. “Does she suck you like this, Trev?”

Trevillo tried not to make a sound as the vibration of her voice traveled through his cock and up his abdomen.

“
Can
she suck you like this, Trev?”

“Sarah,” he moaned as he gripped the edge of his desk. “You’re insane.”

“That’s because I love you.”

Trevillo’s eyes snapped open. “What the fuck?”

She smiled around his dick. “Yes, baby. You heard right.
I love you
.”

Before he could speak another syllable, she did that suction thing again, and he felt his orgasm travel up his legs, up his back, and … shit, he was a second away. His fingers twisted in Sarah’s hair as he prepared for the explosion. But Sarah suddenly stopped and shot up to her feet, wrapping her long-nailed fingers around his throat. “You don’t get to hold onto me, Trev. You stand and take it like a
man
. Got that?”

Trevillo was on the very edge, and if she squeezed her fingers any tighter around his throat, he was going to come. He didn’t want to play this rules and punishment game with her.

So he aggressively reached up, grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked her head back. Hard. “Shut the fuck up,” he hissed, pulling even harder on her hair. “
Down
.”

Loving that, as he knew she would, she grinned as she released her grip on his throat and started lowering back down to her knees. “Yes, sir.”

In less than a minute, his fingers were curling into her hair again, as the woman who gave the best blow-jobs on the planet sucked him into incoherency. She suctioned him deep into her mouth again, and Trevillo’s body stiffened. This was it …

In that moment, his office door opened, and standing in its frame was Krissan, eyes wide, mouth agape.

One would think by the sight of her there, his orgasm would’ve turned the fuck back. But no, that flow of unwanted pleasure came anyway and shot straight down Sarah’s throat, while the love of his life watched.

The love of his life?,
he thought in shock at the realization of what Krissan meant to him.

She was the love of his life?

Yes
, his thoughts continued,
Krissan Kingston was the love of his life.

This realization came to him even as his cock was in another woman’s mouth, and his body was spastic with an orgasm that wouldn’t fucking end. The shit just kept rolling on and on and fucking on.
MotherFuck!
This has got be some sort of retribution. Might have been the longest orgasm he’d ever had. Or maybe it was the severity of the situation he didn’t want to face, but there he was.

“Oh God, I’m so, so sorry, Mr. Nelson,” Krissan mumbled, then quickly backed out of his office and closed the door behind her.

Mr. Nelson?

He was screwed.

Sarah didn’t seem to care she’d been caught guzzling down his sperm. She was still there on her knees, licking him clean, then tucking him back inside his pants. While he stood there immobile, unable to process what just happened. He almost felt like howling.

Trevillo turned his eyes to Sarah, too numb to feel if they were showing anger or calmness. Slowly and quietly, he told her, “Leave … my office. Leave … my building. Leave … my. fucking. life.”

“You’re
firing
me?” she asked in an incredulous tone.

“Yes,” he distractedly answered, remembering the heartbreaking expression he’d seen on Krissan’s face.

It hurt him so much that he hurt her.

“Because of
her
?!” she yelled, pointing at the door where his angel’s feather had stood mere minutes ago.

“Yes.”

Really, he wanted this woman to leave before he did something he’d later regret. Like strangle her to fucking death for what just happened.

He wondered for a brief moment how she knew it was Krissan who’d caught them even though her back was turned to the door, but he was too numb to question it.

“You love her.” This wasn’t a question.

At that juncture, he didn’t give a shit how she took his answer. “Yes.”

Sarah pursed her lips and nodded. Then, with calm, steady movements, she redid her bra, redid her blouse, and wiped her lips with the back of her hand.

Finding his dead, empty gaze, she held it. “You fucked up my heart, Trev. Best believe I’m gonna return the favor and fuck your
heart
up, too.” She took a step up to him and all but breathed, “Wait for it.” Then she turned on her heels and walked out the door.

Trevillo was used to pissed-off women threatening him, so he ignored Sarah’s words and breathed a relieved sigh that she was gone.

A sudden headache attacked him, and he dropped his head in his hands at his major fuck-up. In the same minute he discovered the love of his life, he also
lost
the love of his life.

He’d always known he was hopeless.

Fucking
hopeless
.

W
ith firm, unhurried steps, chin lifted, shoulders squared, I walked out of TDR, got into my car, and drove back to Skylark.

Work.

That’s where I was when I was interrupted earlier by a phone call from Milo, telling me Trevillo requested I meet with him in his office urgently.

Even though I thought it odd Trevillo would have Milo phone me instead of phoning me himself, I just focused on the word ‘urgently’, left Skylark at once, and headed straight to TDR. Because, at the end of the day, even with all the earth-shattering orgasms and lavish gifts and sweet words, Trevillo Nelson was still my boss.

Worried he was probably having issues with my work — even though I knew I was unerringly kicking the ass out of this project — I’d gotten there in a jiffy.

Milo had instructed me to go right in because Trevillo was expecting me, and what I saw upon opening his office door sent my heart shattering into a million pieces.

Trev … Sarah James … his dick … his orgasm … the unapologetic look of pleasure on his face … oh Jesus, I couldn’t even fathom …

But I took it like a big girl, pushed my long expected heartbreak aside, and treated the billionaire with the respect he deserved.

Because, at the end of the day, Trevillo Nelson was still my boss.

Milo refused to meet my glare as I backed out of the office, which told me I was set up for that walk-in. I didn’t sweat it, however. I just took it all in stride and left to resume work.

Work I had to get done.

Work I was getting paid a shit load of money to do.

Work I couldn’t —
wouldn’t
let my emotions affect.

Because, at the end of the day, Trevillo Nelson was still my boss.

For every splintering pain I felt as I tried to focus on work for the rest of the day, I pinched myself. I had no right to feel pain, remorse or heartbreak, because I’d known what I was getting myself into when I decided to make Trevillo an Again.

And then
decided to become an apostrophe S.

A girlfriend.

I knew he was a man who could get whoever he wanted, whenever and wherever he wanted, and it was my own imbecility for believing he could remain faithful to me which rendered me heartbroken. He didn’t hurt me; I hurt myself.

I had no right to think I was unique. As if I was better than his other fucks. I was just one more in the line of his female employees he was screwing, and was probably the only one stupid enough to fall for him. I had no right to believe in all the times we’re apart, he was actually ‘traveling for work’.

Laughing to myself, I thought,
who the hell was I, anyway?
To think I could get that hot, sexy, every-woman’s-fantasy billionaire to fall for me and
stay
fallen? To think an oversexed fuck-demon like Trevillo Nelson could be satisfied with just me? I was just a shallow five feet one adopted bitch who couldn’t even turn her face to the heavens and thank God for waking her out of bed in the mornings, even though she was raised by two people who owned one of the biggest ministries in the world.

Who the hell did I think I was?

If my own parents didn’t want me, why would anyone else?

Me: a girl who saw sense only in music. A girl whose heart sang when her eyes cried. A girl who thought life and people were fucking overrated. A girl who just wanted to
feel
when someone told her, ‘I want you’, ‘I need you’, ‘I love you’.

Many have said it, but I’d never felt it. And I wanted so much to
feel
it, so that I would know the words could be true. To believe humans aren’t just a clump of lying, untrustworthy assholes who go around saying shit just for the heck of it.

All I wanted to do was feel.

That’s all.

To feel.

I’d been numb for my entire life, and so I tried to find a personality that would work for my world. A vain, materialistic personality. But that didn’t work. Such had only served to teach me that the vanity of this world is the anchor we ignorant humans tie around our ankles and sink our own lives.

Until, I finally started to feel. To fall. To love. To want. To need. To crave. To come alive. To feel free.

Finally.

I was finally getting there. And I was so close. So, so close.

But life is a fucking tease. Always getting your hopes up, dragging you so close to the gold, and just when you think you’ve gotten there, the rug gets pulled right out from under you, twisting hope to despair. Taking it all back. Everything. Because it all was illusion. All fake. All a lie. A tease.

Now
I was feeling, yes. But it wasn’t the feeling I wanted. I didn’t ask for pain. I wanted the feel-good emotions. Not the fucked-up ones with my heart imploding every two seconds.

In the end, I landed back on my original view: Life and people and love and all that bullshit is over-fucking-rated.

To hell with feeling. I was going back to being numb. I preferred numbness to pain.

It worked.
I was able to continue my job, finding the installation of the black marble countertops more fascinating than usual.

At around 5:30pm, I called it a day, hopped in my car, took out my cellphone and dialed.

“Hey, KK.”

“You in the studio today?”

Carlos made a knowing hum. “I know that tone. Wanna let it out, huh?”

“Yeah. I’m on my way,” I replied as I steered the vehicle out of Skylark’s complex. “I wanna sing. I wanna sing until I blow my lungs. Until I fall dumb.”

Carlos chuckled. “You’re getting all lyrical on me, KK.”

For effect, I added, “Until I grow numb … ”

By the time Wednesday rolled around, and I didn’t receive so much as a text message from Trevillo attempting to plead his case, I came to the conclusion he was the one who orchestrated the walk-in. Maybe he wanted to get rid of me and didn’t know how.

Really, that was the only postulation I could draft up for what happened on Monday, because Trevillo hadn’t made an effort to reach out to me at all. No visits, no phone calls, no emails, no text messages, nothing.

It’s not even like I would’ve gone all jealous-girlfriend loony on him or anything. Had he came forward to apologize for what I’d walked in on, I would’ve handled it just as I handled most things in life: like an adult.

Unless provoked, I rarely got angry. Rarely shouted. Rarely got embroiled in arguments. Because I excelled at walling and masking things off. I smiled when I wanted to scream. Laughed when I wanted to kill. A few times Trevillo had pushed me to the limit of shouting at him, but like I said, those times for me were rare.

I was more on the understanding side, brushed off a lot of things, because I didn’t take life as serious as most people did.

So, maybe, if Trevillo had at least
tried
reaching out to me, I could’ve harbored some belief he did, or had, cared about me. Cared he’d possibly broken me. Maybe, I would’ve shrugged and continued sleeping with him for fun, because sex with him was incontestably the best I ever had. There was no point in expecting anything more meaningful than sex from a man like him. It’s not like
I
was the one who asked for a relationship; he was the one who
begged
for it.

Yet, he did nothing to explain his weak actions.

Now all I wanted to do was hate him. He was wicked. He was cruel. He was heartless. He was what I’d seen that first day in his office: the man who resembled danger. He’d warned me, too. He’d told me if he touched me with his destructible hands, he’d ruin me.