The Scandalous Billionaires Collection (18 page)

"Jason?"

"I'm… uh flattered."

"Oh crap."

"Crap?"

"Was I speaking out loud just then?"

Jason nodded his head with a sexy smirk on
his face. "You sure were. The view from over here is pretty
breathtaking too." He said. "And Paris isn't bad either."

He leaned over the table and put his hand to
her cheek, his dark eyes looking deeply into hers. God they were
intense. Melissa thought of all the business opponents they must
have intimidated and all of the beautiful women they must have
seduced.

Her head began to seriously swim, doing
possibly the back stroke, and she felt utterly captivated, lost,
euphoric, swept away in a dream.

Jason leaned in even closer and her heart
raced faster still, her breath almost catching in her throat. His
lips joined with hers and she forgot about everything else in this
world.

Melissa awoke to complete darkness and total
confusion.

"Where the hell am I?" she mumbled. Her head
was pounding with what was clearly her second hangover in just four
days. That was more hangovers than she had had in a decade.

She crawled out of the unfamiliar bed she was
in and came to her feet, her eyes slowly adjusting to the darkness.
She recognized nothing around her.

"Where the hell am I?" She repeated. She was
wearing only her underwear. There was black tie evening wear draped
across a seat next the bed.

"Oh my God. What did I… what have I done? Oh
no."

She searched her mind but the last thing she
remembered was...

"Oh my God, no. I kissed him. But what
else...?"

She remembered that thrilling kiss, like an
answer to all her prayers, Jason's hand resting softly on her
cheek, thinking to herself that she would do anything for him, do
anything with him.

But there was more; a vivid memory of the
most side-splitting, throat wrenching, back arching orgasm she had
ever had in her whole life. But that memory was in her home,
before… before what?

She ran to the drapes and pulled them apart,
a lazy Sunday afternoon Paris ambled in the streets below her.

She turned around with her hands over her
face.

"Oh my God."

Jason Demovic was sitting in an armchair
watching her. Smiling his billionaire smile. He was fully dressed,
smart casual, as manicured and beautiful as ever. On his lap was a
silver tray covered with a pristine white cloth.

"Breakfast?" He said.

"Oh my God." She stumbled to the bed and
dived under the bed clothes.

"Pervert." She said accusingly.

"Me?
You
are calling
me
a
pervert? That’s rich. After the things you begged me to do to you
last night."

"I was drunk last night."

"And those things you wanted me to do this
morning."

"Oh my God." She buried her head deeper in
the covers. "Stop fucking with me, I can't remember anything."

"Would you like me to refresh your memory
with some footage of your lost night in Paris?"

She panted for breath underneath the thick,
luxurious covers and had nothing to say in response.

"I've been around the block a few times
Melissa but I guess in your line of work as a therapist you've come
across scenarios that would make even a porn star think twice.
You're just lucky I promised not to lay a finger on you because
of--"

"You did what?"

"I promised someone that I wouldn't take
advantage of--"

"You wouldn't take advantage? Don't make me
laugh. If you're so concerned about my modesty then why were you
sitting there in the dark just waiting for me to…to…"

"Jump out of bed in your sexy underwear?"

"Exactly. Yes. I mean no. Not sexy, just,
just--"

"I'll be the judge of that and I call sexy on
this one. Very sexy. And albeit I have to admit that I enjoyed the
show, it's only fair to say that I could never have predicted that
you would actually jump out of bed the way you did. Especially not
after the condition you were in last night. I also had no way of
knowing what you would be wearing underneath there. Or how
surprisingly arousing it would be."

"You mean I could have been naked?"

"That would have been nice."

"You bastard."

"I just brought you breakfast and that's how
you thank me?"

"You gloated at me in my underwear."

He smiled. "In your alluring lingerie."

She looked at herself under the blankets. She
didn't recognize the underwear at all. He was right, she hadn't put
those on when she rushed to get dressed the previous morning. This
was designer underwear with Parisian couture.

How the hell…?

"I'll just leave this here Melissa. If I had
wanted to see you naked then I could have said yes to any number of
the uh… suggestions you made to me last night. Now as much as it
pains me, I'm going to leave you alone to get dressed. We need to
get ready to fly back to New York. I've got work to do and so do
you. Have breakfast. Get cleaned up and put some clothes onto that
gorgeous body. You have an hour. Then I expect you to be ready to
work with me on the flight back to New York. I think I'm about
ready to open up to you. Considering how, uh, very open you've been
to me in the last…" he looked at his watch, "twelve hours or so.
I'll see you on the plane."

He closed the door gently as he left.

Melissa sat with her head in her hands.

"Wait!" She shouted. "Come back here."

The flight attendant had said he never broke
a promise. The personal assistant had said it too.

"Jason Demovic. Get back in here."

He promised someone he wouldn't take
advantage of her.

"You made a promise to someone. A promise
that you broke."

He had kissed her. At the very least.

He claimed he needed her help.

The polished golden door knob slowly
turned.

"You promised you wouldn't take advantage of
me but you kissed me, that much I remember. You kissed me when I
was drunk. And before that you… you…"

Gave me mind blowing oral sex.
The
words wouldn't quite come out of her mouth.

The door opened.

"Melissa, we can discuss this on the plane.
We don't have time."

"I have time. I have all the time in the
world. After Tuesday afternoon I'll have nothing but time. So you
get back in here, sit down and talk to me or you can fly back to
New York by yourself. I'll fly coach back home on my own dime. I
still have enough money for that."

Jason ran his fingers through his thick hair,
sighed and then strode across the room to sit down in the armchair
again.

"Okay Dr. Price. You have my full attention.
Now what is it?"

"Who did you make the promise to?"

"That doesn't make any difference."

"It does to me. Now you tell me or you fly
alone."

She pushed back the covers and sat up in the
bed exposing her naked shoulders and full breasts adorned with the
exquisite silk underwear that she had no memory of putting on.

Jason looked at her, his eyes in dark shadows
under his brows.

"Okay." He said, glancing at her as though
the sight of her partial nudity were almost painful to him. "When
you put it like that…" He cleared his throat. "I promised my
brother I wouldn't sleep with you until he said it was okay to do
so."

Melissa burst out laughing and then swung her
legs out over the side of the bed. The dark silk stockings she wore
contrasted perfectly with the tasteful pink and black of the rest
of her underwear.

Jason watched her intently.

"My God Melissa…"

"Until he said it was 'okay'? What the hell
does that mean? When exactly does your brother deem it 'okay' for
you to fuck your psychotherapist?"

"That came out wrong. Melissa, please just
get back into the bed--"

She stood up.

"You don't get to tell me anything anymore
Jason Demovic. God I don't know why I've been so afraid of you all
this time." She walked over to where he sat and stood in front of
him, her abdomen and navel just level with his face.

"Melissa, please just get dressed--"

"Shut up." She said. "Just shut up, alright?
I'm sick of being controlled by you. Now you tell me what's going
on. No--first you make me a promise."

"If you get dressed."

"I'll get dressed when I please." She put her
hand on his forehead and pushed it back. He looked up at her and
the fear in his eyes rocked her. Her hand faltered.

"Jason, what is it? What's wrong?"

"Please just get dressed." He said huskily.
"You're torturing me."

She continued to look at him until he dropped
his gaze.

"Promise me that you will always tell me the
truth." She said. "Promise me that you will never, ever lie to me
about anything again."

She watched him tremble and was filled with
amazement. It was always the same; the closer she came to the real
Jason Demovic, clearly the harder it was for him to control
himself, emotionally or physically. She had the eerie feeling that
she could ask anything of him in this moment and that he would give
it to her without hesitation.

The thought was wildly exciting.

"Say it." She said, feeling her nipples swell
and grow tender under the sexy lingerie.

He lowered his head still further, his chin
coming to his chest, heaving in turmoil.

"I promise." He hissed. "Now get dressed. For
God's sake. Please just put some clothes on."

He struggled from the chair, pushed her aside
while trying to avoid physical contact as much as possible and then
fled from the room leaving the door wide open.

Melissa looked around the room in a daze. If
her gentle kiss on the forehead to Bill Kingsley was ethically
questionable, there was no doubt in her mind that what she had just
done was profoundly wrong. Or that it had felt so profoundly,
thrillingly right. It felt like it was meant to be, that his
sickness, whatever it was, had been crafted and molded just for her
and for her needs. He was made for her and she was made for him in
every conceivable way.

In the grand scheme of things maybe
professional ethics really were just a minor concern getting in the
way of the real emotions that would heal them both forever.

She let out a long sigh of confused relief,
awe, and sexual pique.

She glanced down to her breasts and realized
how aroused she had become in just seconds, her nipples swollen and
pressing hard into her bra, the crotch of her exotic French panties
already soaked.

Her emotions inflamed with anger and lust at
the same time.

"Who the hell am I?" She whispered, looking
aimlessly around the room. Her gaze stopped on a slim black smart
phone resting on the seat that Jason had occupied while she had
extracted his word of honor from him.

It was his phone.

He had recorded her last night and he had
shamelessly photographed her when he had first come to her
house.

She looked at it for a moment more. It was
his
phone; the man she was experiencing the strongest,
craziest feelings for in her whole life and a man more powerful and
dangerous than any she had ever encountered before.

Those pictures are of me.
She thought.
I have every right to see them.

She snatched up the phone and the screen came
to life. It had been recently used and not shut off leaving her
with full access. A call had come through and gone to voicemail.
She looked at the number and recognized it instantly. Her hand
shook as she tapped the button to listen to the personal messages
of Jason Demovic, billionaire.

Jason gazed at the defiant woman opposite him for
several minutes and then finally broke off the contest. It was the
second time he had done so that day. He hardly recognized himself
anymore, hating his newly discovered weakness and wanting to fuck
her into submission more powerfully that he had wanted to fuck any
woman in his whole life.

Zach.
He cursed his brother with
infinite frustration.
If it wasn't for that damn
promise.

He glared out the cabin window and adjusted
his cufflinks. He was like a caged animal, rippling with muscle and
tension under the expert cuts of hand tailored cloth that covered
his athletic body.

"You got what you wanted." He said. "So
what's next? You grill me about my sex life? My relationship to my
mother? My father? Isn't that what you spend years studying to
do?"

Melissa looked at her note pad. It was still
blank. She set it to one side, uncrossed and then re-crossed her
legs while Jason watched her every move.

"You look like you think I'm going to pounce
on you." She said.

"You wouldn't be the first therapist to do
that."

"Is that what you want me to do?"

He inhaled sharply, but said nothing.

"Remember you promised to tell me the
absolute truth about everything." Melissa continued. "You made me
that promise. You haven't told me a thing I can use up until now
and we only have until Tuesday. So you better start talking."

The huge, sexy beast of a man before her
looked down at his shoes and then back into her eyes. Despite her
position of obvious control Melissa was apprehensive. Having power
over Jason Demovic was like being given control of a tornado; lose
your focus for a second and the backlash could be devastating.

"Do I have to answer
that
question?"
He said.

Melissa mulled it over, considering her reply
carefully as she watched him through the prim glasses perched on
her nose.

She was in full psychotherapists attire, more
tightly wound up and business like than ever and fully aware of the
effect this was likely to have on her taut and anxious client.