The Long Hot Summer (Billionaire Season Book 1) (7 page)

BOOK: The Long Hot Summer (Billionaire Season Book 1)
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“Warfield Shipping owns entire streets and dozens of structures that it hasn’t bothered with. The family has its fingers in a lot of important pies in a manner of speaking, worldwide shipping
commerce is much more lucrative than historic preservation. There is one building they’ve fully restored, at least that’s what I’ve heard, no one has seen the inside as far I know. It’s this one,” he said, stopping in front of an imposing façade with massive cypress doors. They were intricately carved with what looked to be a scene of Adam and Eve eating from the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, the so called ‘Tree of life’.

“The doors are fantastic, are they original? What’s inside, is it a business or does someone live here? It must be apartments, this place is huge,” Allie said and as she shielded her
eyes from the sun and looked up at the full height of the structure she noticed that all of the exterior shutters were closed and bolted shut.

“Walden Warfield lives here, he’s our most infamous eccentric and that’s not a small distinction in a city known for its oddities. I doubt you’ll ever meet him and you’d do well not to, although it was his father who brought you here, wasn’t it? His late wife and my mother went to school together, they were both Tri Delts
at Tulane and southern universities are all about well-bred popular sorority girls. Soooo, that was a thousand years ago. Mom and William the third have stayed in touch and now here you are. How is it that you came under the beneficent wings of the Warfield family?” Brodie asked, although he wondered if he really wanted to know. This girl was very different from any woman he’d ever seen in the company of the Warfield men, but if she was not a love interest to the elder William or his son, then what was the connection?

“Here we are,” Allie said brightly when they reached the door of the Literary Society. “My mother was a love interest from Mr. Warfield’s distant past, he’s sentimental where she’s concerned. That’s all there is to it, I don’t know him or his son William at all. Just casually, I mean, I’ve met them both, of course… Okay, well. Time to get down to it, right? I’m anxious to get a look at some of the personal letters written by Eudora Welty in particular.”  

There is no way this girl is not on the younger William Warfield’s radar.
Brodie thought as he watched Allie’s sooo sweet ass outlined prettily beneath the silky fabric of her rather conservative dress. She must have chosen the Sunday school appropriate dress to avoid calling attention to herself but that was a definite fail. With an erotically curvy little high and tight ass like hers, not to mention the perky breasts that drew his attention like a pair of small supple peaches… to put it mildly the girl was the definition of ‘Sex kitten’. Rumor was that the Warfield’s liked their women a little on the trashy side, which Allie was not, so that was good because Brodie liked Allie. He liked the way she looked but more than that he liked the way she spoke about literature and the way she twirled a strand of blonde hair and stared deep into his eyes when she was making a point. He’d had his share of women but they all came to him, he had gotten lost somewhat as the little brother to four older sisters. Women ran the show as far as he could tell and with his good looks and good heart they chased him and he rarely ever ran. This girl was not like that, it was easy to see, she would not make the first move. He would just have to bide his time, wait for the right opportunity, and then ask her out on a date. The rest would be history, surely it was fate, Allie Darling was the girl for him. 

*

“Wait here, I’ll go get my car and be right back,” Brodie said, lifting Allie’s hand to his lips before he disappeared down the street. 

“Alaina
,” a stern voice came from behind her as she waited outside her office in the gathering twilight. There in the middle of the street leaning against a sleek black Porsche Panamera sedan was William Warfield the fourth. And damn if he didn’t look like living breathing sex with his freaking suit and tie and long tall body that was all bulging muscles and last but not least his stop-the-clock gorgeous face.

“I’m driving you home
so don’t give me that look, Alaina. Rage all you want and call me seven times a son-of-a-bitch, it won’t do any good. I’d forgotten that my father let the Literary Society move into this neighborhood, it’s mildly safe during the day but as soon as the sun starts to set it’s not a suitable area for you to be wandering alone. By the way, Brodie Maguire is a joke, I really can’t imagine the two of you hitting it off. Do you understand what I’m saying or are you just ignoring me and shutting out my words? Allie, say something please,” William said as he left his car and walked toward her.

“Brodie is giving me a ride to the hotel. Why are you here William?”
she asked and her voice sounded strange even to her own ears. The question was deeper than why William wanted her to go with him, the question was whether William wanted her to go with him on a much more intimate journey. “You’ve come here to drive me home? This city is not my home and you are not my keeper, William. I don’t know what you are to me or what I’ve done to make you torment me so. You warn me that you’re all wrong for me, that you have no interest in me whatsoever. Then you show up at my job acting like a jealous boyfriend, all alpha-male and domineering and what, I’m supposed to swoon? Do you enjoy this, is it some kinky perversion of yours to lead women on? I mean seriously, you must know that you’re freaking ridiculously hot and gorgeous and that any woman with eyes and estrogen and all those other raging female hormones is gonna want to sleep with you. You told me to go find a nice normal boyfriend and the first guy you see me talking to you swoop in to make sure I stay virtuous and untouched. Is that what’s going on?”

“Hey, William
would you mind moving your car out of the middle of the street? I’d appreciate it, buddy. Are you ready to go Allie?” Brodie had rolled his window down to speak to William but he decided to stop his car and get out. The look on William’s face was clear enough, he had staked his claim on Allie. From the murderous look in his stormy eyes and the firm set of his jaw it was probably futile to argue with him.
Fucking asshole
, Brodie wanted to yell and then knock the living shit out of him.

The Warfield’s ran the world or at least this part of it and if they set thei
r sights on a woman her decency and reputation meant nothing to them. Women were a dime a dozen to a billionaire and cheaper than that to a billionaire who looked like William the fourth. Brodie might concede the night and let William drive her to her hotel but he had faith in Allie to keep her wits about her and not fall prey to his seductive charms. In the meantime he would not give up on her, but he stopped short before he reached her.

“She isn’t going with you, Brodie. She’s quite safe in my ca
re, why don’t you ask her? She belongs with me and she knows it. Now be sure and tell your mother I said hello.” William said dismissing him as if he were an errant child.

BASTARD
COCKSUCKER
! Brodie didn’t say it but he sure as fuck wanted to, the ‘Mama’s boy’ implication was a low blow even for William Warfield.

Allie’s heart had leapt into her throat,
speaking wasn’t possible and breathing was damned difficult as William moved between her and Brodie. He wore a white button down shirt and he methodically loosened his tie and removed his cufflinks all the while giving Brodie a look that could kill.
He wants me
! That was all she could think, the rational ‘Stop acting like a caveman’ part of her mind had deserted her. The worst part was that she liked the whole ‘master of the universe’ scenario and not because he was richer than rich and powerful beyond comprehension. She had never wanted a man the way she wanted William Warfield and it was clear that despite his earlier reservations he wanted her in the very same way.

“It’s alright Brodie, I’ll see you here in the morning, don’t worry about me,” she said and she couldn’t believe she had regained her voice and sounded so nonchalant. She didn’t feel nonchalant, she felt
like she was about to hit the jackpot in the sex department. And yet she had spoken to nice, handsome, very available, soon-to-be a lawyer Brodie as if she intended to attend a church service with William and nothing more. What a devious little vixen she had morphed into practically overnight.

Chapter Six

 

“Where are you taking me,
and what happened to the Maserati?” she asked as William’s driver steered confidently through the winding cobbled streets and finally pulled into what looked to be an old train depot.


I have more than one car and I’m taking you somewhere you’ve never been before,” he said and before she could respond he clasped one big hand on the back of her neck and one on her waist and drew her to him. His lips silenced any word of protest she might have had. His kiss was deeply erotic, his tongue seeking hers and then retreating, leaving her wanting more as he gently sucked her bottom lip for an instant until she was moaning in his arms. Her fingers clasped at the back of his neck, holding his face close to hers as he trailed light kisses from the lips to her cheekbone and back down again. Even if she’d wanted to protest she couldn’t have and it didn’t matter where he was taking her, a volcano was erupting over and over down deep inside at her very core and all she knew for sure was that she wanted to feel the scalding heat of that eruption forever.

“We’re here,” he said, unlocking her hands from his neck and smiling at her soft cries of protest. “Come on, Alaina, follow me,”
he held her hand as they maneuvered through a poorly lit building that smelled of grease and dust and he caught her as she tripped over a shallow metal track. Just as her eyes adjusted to the gloom the overhead lights flashed on and she stopped and then turned in a slow circle admiring the vintage streetcars in the old car barn.

“Whoa! Are these original? They look vintage but weren’t the old streetcars destroyed in Hurricane Katrina?” She asked,
although she didn’t especially care about streetcars at the moment. That long neglected region at the apex of her thighs was vibrating with need as she tried to imagine what he might have in mind for the evening’s entertainment.

“They are original
s built by the Perley Thomas Car Works in the 1920’s, there are only a few of these historic beauties left working the rails on the city streets today. The newer red streetcars were lost in Katrina, water damage put an end to them. On the far side of the barn is the last car left from 1890, it’s in perfect condition and handles maintenance work along the lines.” They stopped at the steps of one of the elegant green cars and William’s strong hands circled Allie’s waist lifting her onto the wooden steps. She glanced back at him and thought for sure the pounding of her heart must be visible through the thin fabric of her dress. The look of scalding desire in William’s eyes was hotter than anything she had ever dreamed of. “Ready for a private tour of my world, Miss Darling?” he said, his voice was low and rough and she knew whatever was about to happen, she would never ever be the same girl she had been in the past.

*

The streetcar pulled out of the barn with only the two of them and the conductor aboard and rambled along the rails skirting the river. The glittering mystery of the moon had replaced the vivid glare of the delta sun. Allie smiled to think of the word lunatic having to do with the effects a full moon had on normally sane men and women. She didn’t feel sane as she strolled through the vintage streetcar, her hands reverently smoothing the polished mahogany seats and reaching out to touch the polished brass lanterns.
Sexy, romantic, and unexpected—the streetcar and especially the man
.


I thought you might like a private tour of the city, Allie, and a streetcar named Desire seemed appropriate somehow. We can stop and have dinner… get off and walk along the river… or stay in here and see where we end up. We’ll do whatever you feel like doing…” It took a tremendous force of will on William’s part to keep from crushing her body to his, she was so enticing and sooooo unwittingly sexy. William had added greatly to the scope of his family’s fortune by trusting his gut reactions and his reaction to Alaina Darling was unmistakable. When he thought of her or saw her face or smelled the subtle green grass and just picked tuberose scent of her hair and skin his brain shouted ‘
MINE!’
Scores of women had tried to capture William Warfield time and again with their well-practiced feminine wiles, and without even trying Allie had bewitched him and he wasn’t sure if he had the will or desire to break free of her enchanting spell.

She’d finished her tour of the streetcar’s interior and now she stood before him, gazing up as he towered over her. Her eyes were wide grey-green pools he could so easily drown in, her skin was smooth as a baby’s and creamy pale with that fine smattering of freckles, oh such a girl, so fine and so willing. Her eyes implored him to take her places she’d never believed could exist. Her hair shone like a curtain of gold in the soft light from the old gas powered lanterns and before he could stop himself his hands were lost in its silky fullness pulling her to him, his forehead resting against hers as he worked to slow the runaway freight train that his heart had become. He tried to be gentle but his need for her had ripped him to shreds through the night and day he’d spent without her and he was suddenly like a teenager, eager and greedy and intent on making her his own.

Allie
matched his ferocity when his mouth claimed hers in a lust-driven kiss, her lips parting, her tongue licking into his mouth. Her hands grasping his powerful arms and then settling onto his broad sculpted chest. His body was a work of art, carved from massive slabs of rock-hard muscle. Her need to feel every plane of his body was like a fire in her gut, an aching need so intense that as she fumbled with the buttons of his shirt the cloth ripped under her fingers.

He smiled down at her and said, “Slow down baby, we have plenty of time, but God, I want you too.”

His big hands
slipped beneath her dress and cupped her perfect little ass, his breath catching in his throat as he lifted her. The blood was raging through his veins and he slammed her against the wall of the streetcar too hard. “I’m sorry baby, I’m sorry,” he groaned against her lips.

She moaned as
his teeth tugged at her lip, her legs circled his waist and her heels dug into his thighs. “Hurt me,” she whispered, “show me how good it can hurt. You’re dangerous William Warfield and that’s what I want. It’s what I need.”

“Allie, n
o. I don’t want to hurt you. I want to make you ache with pleasure until you come so hard that you’ll scream my name, and then I want to do it again and again,” he whispered against the velvety skin of her neck, tasting her sweet-salty skin. His skilled fingers made quick work of the buttons on her dress and he pushed it off her shoulders. One hand reached behind her and unhooked her bra so that he cupped her bare breasts with his thumb tracing the tip of each sensitive nipple.

“Please!” she cried out
as his hand skirted down her stomach, his long fingers pushing the silk panties aside and sliding over the long-neglected mound of her pussy. She didn’t care about the conductor at the front of the car, to hell with him, to hell with everything but William’s hands and his mouth and the sublime masculinity of his body.

William
scooped her up as if she were light as a feather and laid her down gently on a polished bench. Her dress fell open and his breath hitched at the sight of her body so beautifully exposed and so trusting and expectant. He knelt over her, his big body molded to hers, her arms wrapped around him, her hands gripping his wide smooth/hard back, holding on for whatever decadent delight was to come. He kissed her lips, her neck and then his mouth captured an erect nipple and a shock of pain and pleasure pulsed through her. She arched toward him without thinking, a distinctly sexual response for more, wanting and needing him to continue, to go farther, to never let this erotic fantasy end.

“Ah,” she cried as he moved from one throbbing nipple to the next, lost in the
nearly unbearable bite of pleasure and close, so close to the edge of orgasm. “William, please!”

“Please what, darling girl? Please stop or please more?” He said as his fingers parted the scandalously wet folds of her pussy, his thumb circling her clit slow and easy until she began to quake and moan. She was so tightly wound and yet so responsive and then she was quivering and shaking and crying out his name as he slid a long finger inside her and she came
apart at the seams.

“William… William!” she murmured, her arm was thrown over her eyes and her chest heaved from the power of her climax but he didn’t give her time to recover.

His hands slid under her ass and lifted her hips up as his tongue licked over her still vibrating cleft and she was lost to reality once again. It was too soon, he knew her clit would be so sensitive she would have to ride the stinging pain for a moment until the hot erotic waves washed over her and took her beyond thought to a place where only touch and sensation and ecstasy mattered. She screamed when the power of the second orgasm hit her, screamed that it was too much and too powerful but mostly she screamed his name.

“I need you inside me, I want to feel you, I have to, please
please please…” she was wild as she tore at his belt buckle and the zipper of his pants. She jerked at the waistband of his boxer briefs, pushing them down just enough so that he sprang free and she gasped at the sight. His cock was as beautiful as he was but it was a course primal beauty. Long and thick with a wide blunt head and ropey veins that pulsed with need. The need for her, she realized with sheer happiness as the large velvety head lay against the slick opening of her sex. Her hands held his face and drew his mouth to hers as he slowly pushed into the tight little glove of her pussy and they both moaned and began to move as one.

“Allie, fuck! Baby, you are so hot and so tight,” he whispered against her ear as he thrust into her. He was fighting the urge to pound fast and deep into her sublime pussy as it gripped his cock, pulsing and massaging and driving him close to the edge of losing control.
“Birth control?” He growled through clinched teeth as her hands gripped his ass, her hips rising up to meet his as she ground her clit against him and he plunged deeper and deeper.

“Yes… yes, I’m good, I take that shot. Ohhhhhhh
, fuck!” She shouted as his cock hit the very end of her, pounding hard against that hidden sensitive spot that she never knew existed. The friction of his body, the feeling of his long thick cock stretching her and pushing her past her known limits was more than she could stand. She was beyond thought then, tremors shook every fiber and nerve ending in her body and she raked her fingernails down his back as the third orgasm sent wave after wave of pleasure surging through her.

“Allie, what have you done to
me!” It wasn’t a question but a cry filled with wonder and supreme satisfaction as he tensed and emptied himself for long moments into this incredible girl.

When they were too exhausted to move or speak they lay twined together
, her arms held him close and his weight rested against her and one word was seared onto his heart and soul—
mine
!

*

“Allie Darling, what a revelation you are. I’ve never heard you use the word “fuck” before,” he said, ushering her into the hotel’s elevator. He pressed her into the wall, nuzzling her neck, scattering kisses across every angle of her lovely face, his erection thick and insistent between them, lengthening along his thigh from the nearness of her body.

“Hmm
, I just couldn’t help myself. Now you tell me why you changed your mind and decided to let yourself fuck me.” She said, smiling wickedly at his look of surprise when the word rolled effortlessly off her tongue once more.

“Because of your eyes. T
hey’ve changed over the last few days. They went from doe-eyed innocence to a blatant demand to be fucked. I know that look, you were going to give yourself to someone and although I have a strict rule about steering clear of honorable young women, I couldn’t live with the idea of you with anyone else. It’s that simple, I haven’t progressed past the Neanderthal stage when it comes to you.” He said, kissing her luscious mouth as the elevator opened into the vast lobby of his offices. “Come on, let me show you where I work when you’re not disturbing my thoughts. Which means I haven’t gotten a single thing accomplished since we met.”

His offi
ces were on what was known as the ‘Upper deck’ although it was two floors below the topmost deck of the ship. In its glory days when the ocean liner had carried passengers in ultimate luxury across the Atlantic this particular deck had housed the expansive formal dining rooms and kitchens. All of that had been stripped away leaving only large trapezoid shaped windows elegantly trimmed in gleaming teakwood. The cavernous space had been fashioned into offices and conference rooms centered on a grandiose lobby that stretched across the width of the ship from port to starboard. William’s private office was at the far end of the ship, the stern or aft most end as it was called. There was a sleek and seamless wall of pivoting glass doors that opened to a deck that appeared to float on the horizon high above the water. 

“This is just wayyyyy too much, how can one man need an office this… huge? But it is amazing. Oh wow, the view from these windows is spectacular, the river, the city and I suppose that’s the Gulf of Mexico in the distance?” Allie said, taking in the
priceless Art Deco onyx topped desk and vintage chrome and leather club chairs and then staring in amazement at the numerous Edward Hopper paintings that graced the walls. “My God, these are by Edward Hopper! Are they originals? Of course they are you’re a billionaire, you can afford to own art that normal people only see in books and museums.”

BOOK: The Long Hot Summer (Billionaire Season Book 1)
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