Taming the Heiress (2 page)

"Calling to grovel?" I ask with a syrupy
sweet voice and I can feel her discomfort across the line. It makes
me feel good, knowing she's embarrassed about what happened.

"Aaaaactually," she begins nervously, and my
blood becomes ever so slightly colder in my veins. Because her tone
is a bit strange, and I'm really not in the mood for whatever she's
going to tell me.

"Well?" I ask impatiently. "Would you spit
it out already?"

Emmalee clears her throat meaningfully while
I'm rapidly losing my patience. When I'm just about to scold her
again, she finally gets to the point.

"Have you seen Hello! today?" she asks
hesitantly.

I scan the magazines at my bedside table,
which I haven't gotten to yet, too busy with my beauty ritual to
check for mentions of my mail. My assistant usually does that for
me, but it's her day off today.

"I haven't," I say, my tone warning her to
be careful where she treads. "Am I in it?" I immediately perk up at
the prospect of being mentioned in a tabloid - I always like seeing
my name in the press.

"Oh," Emmalee chirps on the other side,
giggling nervously. "Well, there's an interview in it ... with
Kaiden. Don't get too upset, okay?"

"Upset?" I laugh it off. "Why would I be
upset? Like I give a fuck about that guy."

But I can't deny the fact I'm already
searching the stack of magazines until I see the familiar logo.
Pulling the magazine out, I flip the pages until I come across a
full-page photo of a smiling Kaiden.

Son of a bitch.
Of course he got a
full-page portrait.

I bet the journalist was a single female,
clenching her legs to stop her urge to jump his bones as she took
down his answers for the interview.

My eyes scan the article as Emmalee goes on
and on, talking my ear off. Not that I hear a thing, especially as
my eyes end up on a specific question on the bottom of the
page.

How are you enjoying New York
City? Any girls you have your eye on?
asks the journalist.

And here is his response:
Oh, most
definitely. I've had a few flings here and there, you know, boys
will be boys. (chuckle) But I have my eye on someone, for
sure.

And who might that lucky lady
be?
Ha! You can almost smell the jealousy coming out of her
mouth, wanting to keep Kaiden for herself, probably.

You might've heard of a little lady called
Francesca DeMarco. She's quite popular in your fashion column, I
believe. But from what I've heard, she's definitely not like the
prissy princesses of the Upper East Side. I hear she's quite
[censored] and she likes to [censored], even with a few people at a
time. So yeah, you could definitely say I'm interested! I think
she's pretty kinky.

I hear a shrill scream ring out through the
room, and unlike those clichéd people in books, I am well aware
that it's mine. I can also hear Emmalee shouting something over the
phone, but I've already cut the line and torn the article to
pieces, paying special attention to the photo of Kaiden.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid fucker!" I scream
loudly, stomping around my bedroom loudly and groaning as I imagine
my super strict father reading that article. I want to sink five
feet down in the ground, but that's not about to happen.

Not until I'm finished with a certain
Kaiden Hunter
.

Even though I'm fuming angry, I know full
well I can't just storm out of the apartment. I'm sure there are a
bunch of paparazzi waiting for me, and I'm not about to be
photographed in a state of disarray, especially not courtesy of
Hunter.

I get ready in a rush, but with my usual
carefulness. I pick out an outfit put together by my stylist (if
anyone asks, I don't have one. And if you tell, I will cut your
fingers off one by one. I'm serious) and add my signature scent,
Chanel Chance.

Throwing on some dainty jewelry and doing my
hair and makeup, I check out my appearance in the mirror.

With my bedroom waves - which actually take
half an hour to create - my striped top and A-line black mini, I
look like a Parisian. After a short thought, I apply some red
lipstick and throw on my tortoiseshell cat-eye sunglasses.

I chose some red pumps, grab my Chanel bag
and am out of the door in a hurry.

Don't mind the fact it took me an hour and a
half to get ready.

Emmalee keeps calling me, so I finally
answer, needing Hunter's address anyway. From the way her voice
sounds when she gives it to me, I'm pretty certain she slept with
him, which is the reason why she recites the address to me
immediately.

I love Emma, but she's
such
a slut.
For a quiet girl, she sure gets around a lot.

Indeed, there's a flurry of photographers
waiting for me, and they take a few snaps as I jump in a cab. I
didn't have time to call my driver, so I scoot on the edge of the
seat in the car, but not before wiping it with a baby wipe.

The cab driver gives me a look in the
rearview mirror, which I promptly ignore, but he's obviously one
for conversation. "Dressed to kill," he whistles, and I roll my
eyes.

He keeps chattering about something or
other, which goes on and on and
on
for half an hour before
we make it to Brooklyn. Who even
lives
in Brooklyn?

I pay the driver handsomely, and he thanks
me profusely, which I wave off. I stand in front of Hunter's
apartment building for a while, getting ready to pull his heart out
through his throat.

Then, finally, I set out inside, flash a
smile at the doorman, who even walks me to Hunter's door and take a
deep breath before pressing the doorbell with purpose.

"Coming," he calls groggily from the inside,
but I don't let go of the doorbell.

"For fuck's sake, would you just ..." He
starts unlocking the door, grumbling something under his breath,
and I cross my arms in front of me, tapping my foot
impatiently.

He opens the door finally, and he's
shirtless.

I gawk. Fuck, I admit I do, because he's
like a marble statue.
Delicious.

"Eyes up here, princess," he says with a
smirk, and I raise my flushed cheeks to his face. He's wearing
jeans, low-slung on his hips, and that perpetual fucking smirk that
makes me crazy, as much as I don't want to admit it.

"Well well well," he says, grinning widely
and crossing his arms in front of his body, mimicking me. But he
makes sure to flex to show off his muscles, the jerk. "What a nice
surprise this is!"

I curse out loud and shove him to the side,
walking into his flat, steam probably rising off of my skin.

Oh, wait. That's his skin, because
apparently he just got out of the shower. There's a shower on the
floor and his hair is soaking wet. There are even a few droplets of
water on his chest.

Yum.

No! Not yum.

"I take it you saw the article," he says
lazily, strolling inside after me and closing the door after he
enters.

"You bet your ass I saw it," I scream out
loud, not caring about my tone or my volume. He raises his hands in
the air defensively, but that smirk is still present on his damn
chiseled face. "What the hell were you thinking?" I snarl at him,
ready to claw his face off for what he said.

"I was just being honest," he feigns
innocence. "If anything, I should think you would be flattered - I
did pay you a compliment, after all, didn't I?"

"A compliment!" I shriek loudly, and he
makes a theatric gesture to cover his ears, as if I'm really that
loud. Okay, so my family is Italian, but I know how to keep it
down.

Not that I'm about to do that now, or today,
for that matter.

"You said I was kinky! You said I did
threesomes and God knows what else that got censored," I whimper
angrily, waving my fists in the air while he fights back
laughter.

"Isn't it true?" he asks innocently, looking
me straight in the eye and raising his eyebrows, only tempting me
further to smash his teeth in.

"NO!" I scream at him at the top of my
voice, waving my arms around. "Not at all! I'm a perfectly ...
perfectly presentable member of the society, unlike you - thank you
very much!"

"I wouldn't say you're
perfectly
presentable," he says with a chuckle and points to my chest.
Enraged, I look down and horror overtakes me. My pretty draped top
has somehow moved to the side and exposed my whole boob -
thankfully in a pretty bra.

I growl angrily, and I've finally had
enough. I throw myself at Kaiden, nails out, ready to draw
blood.

He walks backwards trying to get me off of
him, and I realize too late that he's leading us directly into his
bedroom. And I make another lunge for it, which ends up sending us
right on his king sized bed with - oh,
fuck
, incredibly soft
sheets.

What thread count is that?
I wonder
distractedly.

Just then, Kaiden clasps my hands in his and
as much as I wave them around, I can't move an inch in his grip. I
realize I'm basically on top of him, pretty much straddling him a
moment too late.

Because the next second, our eyes meet and
I'm immediately hit by such a red-hot attraction I nearly topple
over the bed.

Kaiden's gaze is burning with desire when it
meets mine, hot and steaming, letting me know he wants me, plain
and simple.
No words needed.

I gasp pathetically as I feel his cock
stirring directly under me, in a spot that might just drive me
crazy ... And then he pushes himself up on his elbows and his lips
are locked on mine in the next moment.

He kisses like a maniac, all hot and
cold.

One moment, his tongue is darting in my
mouth and claiming it possessively, the next, he's biting my lip
shyly and gently like we're in the third grade.

But fuck, it feels good ... His burning hot
lips feel too good to resist, and before I can stop myself, I'm
responding to his kiss, deepening it, claiming him with the same
desire he has for me.

"Knew you wanted me," he moans against my
lips, and I immediately smack the side of his face while he grins
wildly at me. "You don't kiss like a prude," he finds out loud.

"Oh, and I look like one?" I roll my eyes,
lowering my lips against his once again, determined to convince him
I am anything but.

He plays with me, torturing me with his
tongue, making me think I won't be able to kiss anyone else without
thinking of him first ... Which I'm pretty sure is about right.

Finally, I break our kiss, realizing what we
just did. I look at him with horror, his devilishly handsome face
grinning back at me, tempting for me to slap him.

"Fuck," I say softly, moving away from him
while things are still relatively innocent. "Fuck, fuck, fuck," I
repeat over and over again, remembering my resolve to give Kaiden a
piece of my mind.

Note I said mind, not ass.

He gets up along with me and tries to grab
my hand, but I move it out of his touch.

"I should go," I mutter to myself, already
grabbing my jacket and purse, moving out of the bedroom to the
living room where I left them.

I notice in the meantime his apartment is
definitely a bachelor pad, but a classy one at that. He has it
clean and modern, probably a designer's work. But some pretty
interesting artwork hangs on the wall, and I'd like to imagine he
picked the pieces himself.

Nevertheless, I need to leave.

"Scared?" he taunts me. "One kiss, and
you're gone. Didn't think I was that scary."

I roll my eyes immediately, which is
becoming an instinct when I'm around him. I try to dodge him, but
he keeps walking right behind me, and I'm mainly afraid he'll hear
the beat of my heart, which is very loud indeed.

Because that kiss ... Oh, God, that kiss was
everything
.

"Bye, Kaiden," I say softly, turning around.
His face is still plastered with a grin all over it, but he seems a
little ... disappointed.

Sure. I bet he thought I'd end up in his
bed, without my clothes on. At least I managed to keep
some
dignity.

But looking at him, I can't help doing what
I do next. Which is stepping on my tiptoes and pressing a soft kiss
against his lips.

Just a gesture,
I tell myself.

But the unsteady beat of my heart hammering
in my chest as I run down the stairs lets me down it's definitely
something more ... Or could be, if I let it.

Which I'm not about to.

As soon as she leaves, I curse out loud,
feeling frustrated. I had her right there, in my bed, panting,
wanting my kiss just as much as I wanted hers. Yet I let her go,
and once again, my cock is stiff with the thought of her, but I
have no one to take care of it.

I swear, this girl is going to drive me
crazy.

I try t go about my day like everything's
okay and perfectly normal, but I can't help but think of her most
of the time.

I'll be shopping for groceries, and the
lobster in the seafood aisle will remind me of what she ordered for
lunch on our double date, never getting to her food because I
chased her off.

I get a haircut and I stare in the mirror,
imagining she's by my side, her long luscious locks twined between
my fingers.

Everything I do, she invades my mind,
demanding attention, her mouth pouty and just asking for me to
punish it with a deep kiss.

I keep replaying what happened in my
bedroom, the way she straddled me, immediately rousing my cock from
what felt like a lifetime of napping. I think of her lips, so firm
yet so soft, the way her breasts rubbed against my hard chest.

Fuck, the thought alone could get me hard in
a minute.

That is how the rest of my week goes.
Francesca is always on my mind in one way or another, but what
shocks me most is the fact I don't fuck another girl.