Priceless: Contemporary Billionaire Romance Novel (11 page)

“You
are so gorgeous,” he whispered.  “But there’s more…”

He
turned to a lingerie chest, nestled in the corner, and pulled open its top
door.  They both saw the red corset and garter thong from earlier that day.  He
brushed past it and fished out a pair of white silk panties, trimmed with
lace. 

“I
want you to be comfortable,” he whispered.

He
moved behind her, cautiously unzipping her pencil skirt.  She did not resist
when he towed it down over her black nylons and removed her flats.  He rose again
and peered at her in the mirror. 
She was so beautiful, so genuine, so
sacred and sexy
.  He outlined the full shape of her legs, glazed by her
stockings, before peeling them below her backside and thighs.  He wanted to
liberate her completely from her old clothes and her old expectations of who
she was when she was with him.  Now, she stood before him—wearing only the
lilac sweater and her usual black panties.  He lowered himself to his knees and
peered up at her.  He wanted her approval.  She placed her hands on his
shoulders and allowed him to remove her black underwear, one leg at a time, before
redressing her with her new ones.  With a worshiping stroke of his palm, he smoothed
the white silk fabric over her curvy backside.

Miles
paused and rested his forehead against her thighs—her warm supple thighs—and
indulged in the sensation of her fingernails, circling the nape of his neck. 

“Miles,
you’ve done so much for me—the jewelry, the clothes, all this attention—and
it’s not that I’m not grateful, but it’s so much, so fast.”

He
waited.  He knew she was expressing her greatest fears and he didn’t want to
overpower her.

“I’m
just not certain I know what it all means, or what we can really ever be to
each other.”

It
was true.  He had considered whether or not Maribel was just another woman in
his bed, another sexual conquest, a convenient distraction from his stressful
life.  He had forged those types of relationships—many, many times in the
past—and Maribel was perceptive enough to assume it.  He understood why she was
cautious because he understood that he had not expressed everything that had
been churning in his heart.  But from the very beginning, she had made it all
different for him.  And now, he wanted her to know it.

“Maribel,
I know that nothing I can say will express what I’ve been feeling these past
two days.  But I want you to know that this connection between us is something
different for me, something I can’t completely explain with words—not even to
myself.  And yes, it’s only been two days since we’ve formally met each other,
but I feel like I’ve known you my whole life and now you’re finally a part of
it in a way that feels right.  And I can’t claim to know what it all means or
what we can be to each other, but I’m willing to find out…are you?” He searched
her eyes—those beautiful brown eyes that filled him with nothing but the
promise to save him from himself. 

Slowly,
she took up his hand and encouraged him to his feet.  She loosened his tie and
let it drop to the floor.  Button by button, she unfastened his business
shirt.  Miles moved his hands around her waist, preparing to draw her into his
body and consume her. But she stopped him.  Now, it was she who wanted to
undress him.  He dropped his hands and relaxed as she brushed open his shirt across
his broad shoulders and removed each sleeve.  The cool air of the apartment
pricked his skin.  She softened the chill with a kiss on his pecs.  He exhaled
and tried to run his hands under her new silk panties, but again, she stopped
and resisted him.  Her hands passed over the gold buckle of his belt.  She drew
it back, sliding it out from each pant loop.  Her release of its taut leather
unleashed a pang of desire in him—a basic instinct to embrace her, smother her
with his body, and force his way inside her.  But he quelled the urge to
overpower her.  Instead, her eyes arrested him—as if he could only hear her thoughts. 
Yes, she was willing to try, but only on her terms
.  He clenched his jaw
as she unzipped his fly, and watched as she lowered herself down to the floor,
stripping him of each dress shoe, sock, and pant leg.  She rose again and
circled behind him, peering at his reflection in the mirror.  Only his black silk
boxers remained.  Her soft cashmere sweater feathered against his back as she
lifted up his hand and moistened his thumb and forefinger with her warm lips.  He
exhaled with restraint.  He wanted to claim her, slip his wet fingertips under
her white panties and fondle her black pouch. 

But
it was she who towed down his boxers over his thighs and feet.  The contour of
her breasts brushed against his bare erection.  He throbbed for her—hard and
maroon, coursing with blood and emotion.  The muscles in his chest flinched.  Like
a reflex, he placed his hands on her head to guide her mouth downwards.  But
she removed them, and circled her hands around his backside and between his
cheeks, her fingers caressing him the way he had caressed her that afternoon.  He
exhaled and closed his eyes. She probed him deeper, then licked the slick tip
of his erection, letting the sensation linger until he opened his eyes to meet
her own.  Miles had never stood naked in front of any woman without exerting
his ability to overtake her.  Now, swollen and yearning, he stood naked and
vulnerable in front of Maribel, allowing her to tongue him with.

“Maribel,
I need you…” His hands encircled her wrists, urging her to signal that she was
willing to let him be more to her.

 “Why?”
she whispered, rising from her knees and locking eyes with him. “Why do you
need me so much?”

 “Because
you make me want to be a better man.”

The
sincerity in his confession disarmed them.  She gazed into his eyes, weighing
his words before the lights in the closet suddenly flicked off.  They stood in
the darkness, the sound of their breath their only gauge of each other.  Miles
listened for her response.  He felt her remove the luxury watch and diamond
tennis bracelet from her wrists.  They dropped onto the hardwood floor like broken
chains.

“My
love is free, Miles. Promise me you won’t forget that.”

Her
body relaxed as he nudged her for a kiss. 

“Not
free,” he said with a hush, and cradled her head against his own.  “Priceless.”

She
sighed and released herself to him, accepting the full weight of his tongue
flowing through her mouth and down her neckline.  He heaved his emotions into her
ear and consumed her with tender commitment.  She lifted up her hands, allowing
him to slide off her sweater and taste her nipples—
his sweet and salty
Maribel
.  His mouth dug between her breasts like she was offering up her
soul.  Miles felt the change in her body.  Slowly, she rotated her silk white
panties against his firm cock, unifying the full force of his pelvis into her
own.  It was the signal Miles had needed—craved—and now, it was filled with
mutual desire.  He swept her up into his arms and carried her to his bed, crisp
and fresh, waiting to be christened with the passion of their connection.  He
spread her out across its sheets, and admired her in the soft light of the
moon.  She lifted up his thumb and forefinger and sucked it with luscious
flicks.  Her stimulation hardened his cock and energized his determination to
satisfy her.  He slipped down her white panties over her smooth legs.  She
relaxed with his touch and butterflied her knees, wider, as his fingers nestled
between her legs and thumbed her clit.  He exhaled and peered into her eyes. 
I
love pleasuring you
, he told her with his unwavering gaze.   He watched her
face—lips parting, eyes closing, absorbing the palpitations of his sensual touch.  

He
shifted his palm against her pubic bone and fingered her deeper, massaging her
G-spot with rhythmic stokes and encouraging her to give in.

Yes,
yes, yes…
she nodded. 

Yes,
yes, yes
, he confirmed with the full force of his fingers,
taking in the view of her mouth, breasts, and legs—slackening with arousal.

He
lowered his tongue to her slit and licked her—once.  She flinched and heaved.  He
lowered her own hand between her legs to calm her inhibitions, settling her fingers
into his own and penetrating her—together.  Their fingers established long, repetitive
beats that assuaged her insecurities and relaxed her inner thighs. 
God,
Maribel
. 
You’re so beautiful.
  She was gushing and glistening for
him.  He lowered his chin and licked her again—first a teasing wisp over her
clit—and then, indulging deeper.  Her body quaked with convulsions.  He accelerated
his flicks until she could no longer control her need to be penetrated by him. 
She tried to draw him in. 
No, not yet, not yet…
his firm hand commanded her. 
Suddenly, he shifted their position, towing Maribel up into his arms and into
his lap, wrapping her legs around his waist.  His fingers spread open her backside
to fondle her with his forefinger.  She lowered her head against her shoulder
with a submissive exhale. 
Don’t stop, don’t stop
....  Miles had no intention
of stopping.  He massaged her in circles, priming her open with her own wetness. 
Then, he shifted his cock behind her and explored her with ginger tucks—slow,
coy pressure from his tip that tested her tautness and glazed it with his own slickness
without fully breaking through. 

In
the darkness, Miles noted the sudden silence of Maribel’s panting and sensed
her anticipation.  He knew she assumed it was what he wanted, and she was
willing to give it to him.  He simply sought to stimulate every part of her body
and arouse every part of her being.  She encircled his wrists and braced
herself for him to take her—completely.

Deeper? 

Yes,
deeper
.

They
both
sighed as he slowly pierced into her, forging past the friction
with one forbidden thrust.  Maribel’s head dropped backwards as her mouth opened
with an inaudible gasp.  She arched her back and accepted him deeply. 

 I’m
going to fall in love with you, Maribel Martinez…

Miles
wasn’t sure if he said it aloud or not, but he knew he could no longer deny it. 
They exchanged breaths in rapid succession. Sweat glazed their cheeks and
shoulders.  Miles embraced Maribel with all his strength and shifted himself
deeper inside her, wanting her to feel the physical consequences of his stolen
heart.  There was nothing in the world more important to him in that moment
than his quest for her unconditional trust.  Then, as if they traded hearts and
minds, they heaved in unison with a shuttering fervor before falling back
together against the stark sheets of his bed.  It had been the most intense two
days of Miles’ life—and yet, he knew it was only the beginning of his love for
her.

Chapter Eleven

Miles
awoke to the smell of pancakes. 

Vanilla
,
he thought and rose from the bed in search of the source of the sweet scent. 
She was there in his kitchen, dressed in her rosebud pajamas and bunny
slippers, manning a skillet and spatula over his massive stainless steel stove.

“Good
morning,” she smiled, her eyes tracking him to the island, where he slipped
himself onto the black leather stool and watched as she flipped the bubbling
flap jacket.  He rubbed his face, half-awake, and admired her in the natural
sunlight.  Her black hair fell over her shoulders and her face was fresh and
invigorated—blushing cheeks, full lips, shining eyes.  It was the same woman he
had sought to please last night, and now she was seeking to please him by
making pancakes.

“I
missed you this morning.” His eyes lingered on her. 

“Sorry,
I wanted to surprise you with breakfast.”

“I’m
surprised.  But I still missed you.”

Maribel
smirked, tender but sassy, as if she pretended not to believe him.  She flipped
the pancake with her spatula, then opened his refrigerator.

“You
have everything in here.  I snuck into your kitchen this morning, expecting it to
be an empty bachelor pad.  Instead, I discovered a fully-stocked refrigerator. 
Milk, eggs, fruit, butter, cheese,” Maribel closed into his refrigerator and
peered into the sleek modern cabinets.  “Even your pantry is stocked with
baking ingredients.”

“Courtesy
of Fang Ji, my housekeeper.”

“You
even have whipped cream.”

“Yummie. 
For later,” he joked and circled around to steal a kiss.  She shrugged him off
and poured syrup onto his flapjack.  Then, she guided him back to the island
with a place mat and utensils.

“It
will get cold,” she said.

“Delicious,”
he eyed her.

She
slid around his red Brazilian hardwood floor in her bunny slippers like she was
skating on ice.  She removed the butter and cream from the refrigerator and
pulled down two mugs from the wall hooks.  He loved watching her, settling into
his kitchen with ease.  It had been a long time since Miles had woken up with a
woman with whom he looked forward to spending the whole morning. Not only did
he look forward to spending the whole day with Maribel, he looked forward to
never letting her go. 

She
poured him a cup of black coffee and offered him cream.  He shook his head and
accepted the mug.  He smiled and relaxed his bare chest against the edge of the
island’s granite countertop.  He was completely naked, but comfortable and
relaxed, as the morning sunlight basked against his bare back.

“You’re
spoiling me with your baking.” He drank from his mug and endured the sharp heat
of the coffee.

“Somebody
needs to spoil you,” she answered over her mug’s own rim.

 “You
spoiled me last night,” he countered. 

Maribel
lifted her brown eyes and sipped from her coffee, but she did not respond.
Instead, she shifted her eyes onto ringing cell phone, buzzing in front of them,
interrupting their peaceful morning.

G-A-R-Y. 
The name flashed across the phone’s screen.

He
noted the look of disappointment in Maribel’s eyes as she turned away and
poured more pancake batter into the skillet.

 “Answer
call—speaker phone,” he called to the device.  Gary’s stren voice erupted
through its base.

“Brax,
where the hell have you been?  I’ve been trying to get ahold of you all fucking
morning.”

“I’ve
been busy,” Miles replied, drinking from his mug, “eating pancakes.”  He winked
at Maribel, who pretended not to enjoy the attention.  “By the way, Gary, don’t
swear so early in the morning.”

“Jesus
fucking Christ, Brax… have you lost your fucking mind?  I’m trying not to lose you
a hundred million dollars, and you’re telling me to stop swearing while eating
pancakes on a fucking Monday morning?”

Miles
stopped smiling.  He registered the uncharacteristic alarm in Gary’s voice,
took up his phone, and switched off its speaker.

“A
hundred million dollars is an over-statement, Gary.  The Olson & Anderson
deal is only worth thirty-five million.”

“Fuck
the Olson & Anderson deal.  The Olson & Anderson deal is dead.  They’ve
signed with Zale at his Amory building.  I’m taking about Faber and Orsolini.”

“What
about them?”

“She’s
taking them.  Gillian’s taking away all of them.”

Miles
weighted Gary’s words, trying to piece together their implications.

“She
can’t.  We’ve got letters of intent, Gary.”

“Fuck
the letters of intent.  There’s no signed leases—are you planning to drag them
into court with only letters of intent?”

Miles
raced to calculate in his mind the potential loss of both lease deals. 

“Maybe,”
he hit back.  “Or maybe I just sue Gillian for breach of fiduciary duties, just
to shake her up.”

“Brax,
this isn’t the time to play revenge within your personal life.  If you’ve been
fucking her, and now she’s pissed off at you for not calling,
call
her, and
get these deals back on track.  Then, dump her after the ink is dry.  But don’t
blow her off now.”

Miles
looked over at Maribel.  She was organizing and re-organizing the kitchen, peering
into cabinets and drawers, scoping out all the cookware and kitchen utensils
that had remained untouched for months. She pulled out the eggs from the
refrigerator, cracked them into a bowl, and whisked them with milk.  She was
preparing scrambled eggs.  He loved scrambled eggs.

“Christ,
Brax… who the hell is doing all that banging?  Your cat?”

“I
don’t have a cat.  Just a small mouse.” 

“Some
fucking mouse.”

Miles
pulled the phone away from his ear.  Gary’s swearing was grating on him.  Miles
wondered if he used to sound that way.  He felt the urgency to change.

“Look,
Gary, if Gillian wants to fuc—” he stopped, and reconsidered his words
carefully. “If she wants to kill all my deals, then so be it.”

“Brax,
I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately but we’re talking about a lot of time
and money here.  These deals have been in the works for months.  You piss away
these deals and you’re not going to be able to replace that kind of revenue
overnight.  Especially in this economy.  We’re talking about a big hole in your
bottom-line.  And for what… ?  Because you’ve got a new itch that needs scratching
and you’ve decided
now
is a good time to trade up for a younger,
prettier girlfriend?”

            Miles
wanted to hang up on him.  Every muscle in his body fought the urge to end the
call and walk away completely from his life.

            “Gary—shut
your mouth and stay the hell out of my personal life.”

“Okay,
okay, fine,“ Gary backed off. “I’m your lawyer, not your conscience.  But we’re
talking about over a hundred million dollars—and that’s just the three deals
Gillian can guillotine now.  That’s not even all the future business that
she’ll drive to your competition.”

Miles
traced the same sparkling shard of quartz, embedded in the counter.  “It’s been
easy money for too long, Gary,” he finally said.  “Time to make a change.”

“Ahhh,
fuck me, Brax.  I hate it when you say that.”

“Well,
good… then you’re used to it.”

“Brax,”
Gary said, giving it one last kick at the can, “Gillian’s acting like a scorned
woman.  And a scorned woman is nothing but a bitch-on-wheels. I don’t know what
happened or what you did to her, but just make sure you know what you’re doing.”

“I
always do.”

“Yeah,
okay,” Gary laughed with sudden relief because they both knew it was true.  “And
Brax… she must be some fucking stellar special mouse.”

Miles
smirked, watching Maribel cook scrambled eggs in her rosebud pajamas and bunny
slippers. “She is, Gary.  She is.”

He
hung up and flipped over his cell phone, face down on the countertop.

“Work…?”
she asked.

He
nodded, but didn’t offer more.  Instead, his eyes gazed out across the crystal
waters of Lake Michigan, trimmed with ribbons of floating ice like frosting. 
It was going to be a beautiful, winter day.  He tried hard not to think about
all the ways he was going to lose millions of dollars.

“I
have to go into work at one o’clock,” Maribel reminded him. “Maybe we could go to
the library before then.  I love wandering through their exhibit halls on the ninth
floor.  We can even sneak into the Winter Garden.  Its skylight atrium is
amazing. Plus, it’s the perfect day for it.”

“The
library?” Miles arched his eyebrow.

Maribel’s
eyes narrowed at him.  “Yeah, you know… a big public building where poor people
congregate and borrow used books.”

“Ahhhhh…I
see,” he softened the edge in his voice and circled around the island,
attempting to reconcile her wounded pride with his embrace.

“You
might even find something that you like there.”

 “I
already found something I like,” he whispered in her ear with a kiss.

She
tried to shrug away, but he refused to let her go.  He tongued her ear lobe and
covered her mouth with his own, kissing her with long, intense gestures of
forgiveness—until he was certain she would no longer flee from him.  Then, he
looked down at his plate of perfectly prepared scrambled eggs. 

“The
library, huh?” Miles considered the last time he had sat down to read anything for
pleasure.  It had been years.  He nudged her lips for another kiss.  “Sounds
perfect.”