Plush Book 2: A Billionaire Romance (10 page)

Sam came and jumped into my lap as I was about to click out of the tracking software.

I stroked his head with my free hand as I sipped on my mug of steaming hot coffee. If my rent was paid for a year, the amount of money I needed each month just to survive was reduced greatly. I wondered if my old boss at the coffee shop would have a part time spot available. I hadn’t left on bad terms and I knew how to make great coffee. Between that and the tip money, it might be enough to scrape by, and a whole lot better than shaking my bare ass to a roomful of classless horny men.

“We’re going to be okay, Sam. I’ll go back to the cafe and get some hours, get Cherry Bomb fixed, and we’ll be fine.”

Sam didn’t care much, but sometimes it helped to talk to him and sort things out. He snuggled into my lap and I felt more relaxed than I had in days, knowing there was a light at the end of the tunnel I had been hurtling through.

“I did it, Sam! I start next week!” I announced as soon as I stepped back into the apartment later that afternoon. He came scampering at the sound of his name, probably thinking he was about to get fed a treat. I squatted down next to him and scratched his ears.

I had gone down to the cafe I used to work at—before meeting Bryce, before the Spotlight disaster, before Cooper—and the owner had given me my old job. It was only twenty-two hours a week, but it would be enough, for now.

I glanced up at the clock in the kitchen and knew it was time to get dressed. It would feel even better to tell Cooper off, in person, dressed to kill, and tell him I got a new job—without his help—and that he could leave me alone. For good.

My mind made up, I went to my room and started to scour my closet for something to wear. Something…
fuckable
. Figuring out what to wear to go on a date with a billionaire is probably not a problem a lot of people have to deal with, but regardless, it was turning into a real problem as I thrashed around in my closet, rejecting everything I pulled out, and tossing it onto the bed. I only stopped my rampage long enough to rescue Sam, who had gotten lost under the mountain of clothes that was rapidly piling up, and started yowling for help in his escape. I pulled him out and carried him around the room with me. My hair was up in hot rollers to help transform my natural wave into something a little fancier for the occasion.

Staring at the pile of clothes, I was starting to have flashbacks to getting ready for the Plush launch party a few weeks back. I had been faced with the same dilemma but luckily, Hannah had been able to help me out. I had texted her, but still hadn
’t heard back. I figured she was with Jett. The two of them had seemed to really hit it off and I hadn’t heard much from her since they met. I briefly considered wearing the dress I had worn to the launch party, but decided against it since Cooper had already seen it and I didn’t want him to think I only owned one formal dress.

Although, it was kind of true. I had two other cocktail dresses but they were from when I had been bartending at the strip club. They were really, really short and would not be appropriate for a nice restaurant. So, as much as Cooper would appreciate my slinky dresses, I didn’t think looking like a hooker was the best plan.

I decided I was too close to the situation and left the room to go do my make-up. I had one cat eye perfected when the idea hit me. I dug through the pile and found my skintight red dress. I wiggled into it and laughed at my reflection in the mirror when I turned around to see that it was so short, my ass was two centimeters away from being on display. I couldn’t remember the last time I had actually worn this dress out in public, but I cringed knowing that at one point in time, it had been worn outside of my house. I went back through the pile and found my black skirt and pulled it on. It was several inches longer than the hem of the red dress and even though it was layered, it looked almost like it could be one whole dress.

“Huzzah!” I shouted, taking a final twirl in the mirror. My sleeve of tattoos was showing, but I planned to wear a shrug and even if I took it off, I knew Cooper didn’t mind. He flashed through my mind and I felt myself starting to get aroused at the memory of the last time he had taken off my jacket and ran his fingers over my inked-up skin.

“Easy girl, you have to get through dinner first without having to change your panties,” I reminded myself, going back to the bathroom to finish my make-up. I smiled to myself in the mirror, thinking of the undergarments I had carefully chosen to wear. That had been the easy part—a sheer, lacy bra with matching panties and garter belt, since I remembered that had driven Cooper absolutely crazy. I shivered at the memory of watching his head between my legs, still in black thigh high stockings, spread for him as I balanced on the edge of his desk, rocking back and forth with each lick of pleasure.

Fuck…at this rate, I was going to have to change panties before even leaving the house!

I was still resolved to keeping Cooper to a look, don’t touch, policy, but looking sexy as hell was going to make it even more fun for me as I got to watch him lose his mind when I turn him down.

I took a deep breath and resumed my make-up application, mentally zapping at the new thoughts of Cooper that tried to take over my mind.

My make-up was done, my hair was released from the hot rollers and fell in soft waves around my shoulders, and I was killing it in my new dress creation. I turned and admired myself in the mirror. My Spanx were doing their job, and then some, to keep everything high and tight. My waist was cinched in and accentuated my hourglass figure. The sky-high stiletto heels made my legs look longer and leaner. I couldn’t help but laugh, imagining the look on Cooper’s face when he saw me come down the stairs.

I wanted him to suffer.

“To blue balls,” I toasted myself, hoisting up my pre-date glass of wine to my reflection.

I barely had time to take a sip off the top when the doorbell rang.

“It’s showtime!”

Chapter Thirteen

“Hello, Cooper,” I said, my voice low as I open the door.

His eyes raked down my body and I could see that he was stunned—and horny—just looking at me.

“Is this…what were your words…nice, enough?” I asked him.

“You look beyond gorgeous,” he replied. His eyes were dark and I found myself being pulled into them, momentarily hypnotized by the desire and lust hidden there.

I sternly reminded myself of my plan and snapped out of my fantasies.

“Shall we go?” he asked. He offered me his arm, like a true gentleman, and I couldn’t help but wonder what was going through his mind. He had to know how pissed I was at him, how much I did
not
want to be here. This “date” was more like a hostage situation. He wouldn’t
let
me say no.

I placed my hand on his arm and let him lead me down the stairs. I was actually a little grateful, since the steps were steep and my heels were so pencil thin. It took all my mental energy to keep from pitching forward and falling on my ass.

He led me around the corner of my building and I saw a sleek, black limo parked along the curb. I had been expecting his car—he didn’t seem the type to be chauffeured around town. He had always been the one driving anytime I’d been with him.

“I have a little surprise for you,” he growled into my ear.

My eyes darted to his and noted the sparkling gleam in them. He was up to something and I was fairly certain I was going to like it.

That was the problem.

His driver had come around at the sight of us and he rushed forward to open the door. Cooper held my hand as I lowered into the car, careful to keep my skirt down and avoid showing too much. Once I was inside, he released me and climbed in after me. The driver shut the door and it was dead silent for a moment. I could have sworn I heard my own heart beating frantically inside my chest. The nearness of Cooper was overwhelming—his eyes on me, his hand on my skin, and his intoxicating smell surrounding me.

I scooted along the bench seat, slowly trying to inch away to the other side of the car without him noticing. He placed a hand on my bare thigh and stopped my progress.

“Where are you going, Allison?” he purred.

His hand on my leg was sending my senses into overdrive and clouding my mind.

“No—” I stopped, sucking in a sharp breath as his hand slid higher, nearly to the hem of my skirt. “Nowhere.” I answered.

“Good.” His hand left me just long enough to reach down and produce an opened bottle of champagne. He poured a generous amount into a delicate-looking flute and handed it to me. I gingerly accepted it, his fingers brushing across mine in the exchange. He poured himself an identical amount.

“To tonight,” he said, lifting his glass up.

“I’m not sure it will be a toast-worthy night,” I added. I clinked my glass against his and was about to drink, but he stopped me, his fingers enclosing my wrist.

“What do you mean?” he asked, his face shifted and a flicker of anger shot through his dark eyes.

I rolled my eyes, preparing myself for his theatrics. “I know what you
think
is going to happen tonight. It’s not. I just thought you should know.”

I pulled my wrist away from his grasp and took a sip of the zingy bubbles that had accumulated in the top of my glass. To further add to his frustration, I licked my lips slowly.

His eyes were trained on me, not missing a fraction of a second.

“Allison, why must you make things so difficult?”

I laughed. “
I
make things difficult? You cannot be serious.”

His eyes told me that he was.

“Cooper, all you do is use me. Over and over. And yes, I know, none of it was forced upon me. I was a willing participant. But it stops now. I’m tired of feeling like yesterday’s trash every time we do
this
!”

“This?” He cocked an eyebrow at me, as if he didn’t understand my insinuation.

“Yes,
this. Hook up, fuck, whatever you want to call it. It’s demeaning and I’m done with it. I don’t care how good-looking you are or how much money you have, it’s not worth it.”

I finished my tirade and sucked back the glass of champagne, taking it down like a shot. I desperately needed the alcohol to hit my system so my insides would stop freaking, the fuck, out.

Cooper stared at me, his face unchanging. A shiver of fear went slinking down my spine.

“Is that all you think this is? Hooking up? Fucking?” he finally asked.

Something about the tone of his voice suddenly had me spinning, questioning myself.

“Yes?” I said—my voice unsteady as I reconsidered my argument.

“It isn’t. Not for me.”

Fuck.

Me.

My heart raced even faster as the sudden rush of alcohol hit my system and made my mind fuzzy. I looked at my glass, momentarily wondering if I had been drugged, but then realized I hadn’t eaten anything all day and the pre-date glass of wine coupled with the champagne was wrecking me.

Before I could say anything else, he leaned into me, pressing his body against mine. “Say the word, and I’ll stop. But Allison, I want you.”

He waited two beats, his face hovering over mine, creating a current of heat between our lips as they nearly touched with every word. My lips parted, trying to speak, but then I surged forward and pressed my lips against his, throwing aside any rational thought I might have had.

Cooper charged at my initiation and within seconds, his hands were back on my thighs and working their way up my body, skimming over the skintight fabric, up to my breasts that were tight and firm, waiting for his touch. He cupped them in his hands and ran his thumb along my nipples that were hard under the fabric of my dress. I shuddered at the light touch and moaned into his kiss as his tongue pushed past my lips and tangled with my tongue in a frenzied dance.

My hands slid up his chest and rested on his solid shoulders, feeling every movement as he continued to search my body with his own hands. He broke away from the kiss and his lips went to my neck. He worked his lips up to my ear and gave a nip to my earlobe before enclosing it between his lips and tugging slightly. The quick burst of pain, followed so closely by pleasure, sparked another moan of excitement and desire. I closed my eyes and let the sensations dance across my skin, lighting my body on fire, as they spread.

“You’re so beautiful, Allison. I have to have you.”

I opened my eyes and found him staring at me. His words were so sweet but the way he said them was pure lust. His eyes were darker than before and filled with need.

“Say you’re mine.”

I hesitated, my brain slow with the effects of the champagne. My eyes darted back and forth between his, as I searched for the right response.

“Say it,” he repeated, his voice lower and huskier.

“I’m yours,” I whispered.

Cooper’s eyes flashed and his hands squeezed my breasts. I cried out and lay my head against his shoulder.

“I want to see your beautiful tits,” he growled into my ear. “Show them to me.”

I looked up at him and stared into his hungry eyes as I slipped out of the sleeves of my dress. I pushed the fabric down, over the left, and then the right breast. I hadn’t been able to wear a bra with the dress, so my breasts were exposed and bare for him. His eyes widened at the sight and he quickly placed his hands back on them. His palms were warm and I whimpered at the waves of heat and desire rushing through my body. Each touch drove me higher and higher, the pulses of pleasure gathering together and settling between my legs. I felt myself getting wet and shifted in my seat, trying to satiate the throbbing need between my thighs.

He lowered his head and rolled his tongue along the pink buds of flesh, circling my nipple and teasing me.

“Cooper, please,” I begged, arching back for him.

He smiled up at me before he took the nipple in his mouth. He tugged slightly, his lips firm as he toyed with the tender skin. I moaned and closed my eyes again, laying my head back against the seat.

He alternated between my breasts, licking, kissing, and sucking every inch. My hands were buried in his hair, pulling gently as he drove me higher and higher into ecstasy. His hand slid back down my body and went under my dress, skimming up the inside of my thigh towards the heat in between my legs. I spread my legs apart as much as I could, desperate for his touch.