Her Brother’s Billionaire Best Friend (Her Billionaire #1)

Chapter TWENTY-SIX

(Matthew)

Somehow, in a few minutes, Charlotte had managed to do for me what the therapist I’d run away from hadn’t been able to do: make me see that the situation with my leg was not the end of my life.

After a perfectly lovely dinner at the sushi restaurant where she ate her body weight in sashimi, Charlotte was eager to get back to the castle.

“I have a plan,” she informed me, linking her arm through mine. “Wanna hear it?”

“Of course.”

“I know you said you’re not into the slippery thing, but I do want to try it at least once. I was thinking maybe while I did that, you could find someone and get back into the swing of things.” She grinned at her own pun. “Swing. Get it?”

“I got it. I didn’t laugh because it wasn’t that funny.” I nudged her arm with my elbow. “Are you going to be all right on your own?”

She looked at me like I’d suggested holding her hand to cross the street. “I’m not going to be on my own. There are going to be like, a hundred people there.”

“At least,” I warned her.

“I’ll be fine. We came here to have sexy adventures. Let’s do it.” She paused. “Of course, I’m going to want details when we get back.”

“Obviously.” If I wasn’t going to look in on her activities at the orgy—and the chances of me resisting a peek in were slim to none—I would at least want to hear about it.

“We can trade stories and get off to them,” she suggested cheerfully. “I did love masturbating with you.”

Someday, her frankness would cease to shock me.

My stomach dropped at the thought. Someday? What we had was casual. Tenuous. At the moment, I couldn’t imagine my life without her, but she was young and didn’t commit to relationships. This wasn’t permanent, no matter how much I might want it to be.

I put those thoughts away. Charlotte was right. We’d come here to have fun. If her idea of fun was writhing around in a pile of slippery bodies, I wouldn’t stop her. And there was no reason to not have some fun of my own.

“Hey.” She tugged on my arm to stop me and looked up into my face, earnestness written on every feature. I braced myself for some heartfelt expression of friendship, but she asked, “Stanley Tucci never came here, did he?”

“God, I wish.” The man was a powerhouse of sexual charisma. “But no. I’ve never met him.”

“So, the DVD…”

“It’s a good movie.” I refused to defend myself on that score. “And if you’re not moved by the sheer coldness of one Ms. Emily Blunt—”

Charlotte held up her hand. “No judgment.”

We didn’t walk all the way to the castle. It would have been too much to ask of my leg, and I wanted to be at full power. A staff member drove us up on a cart, with Charlotte practically leaning out of the thing to see as we got closer.

The castle was an impressive sight when it was open, windows pulsing with lights from the many parties within. A cacophony of competing music filtered through the walls, though inside it would be too loud in the individual rooms to overhear what happened in the next one.

“This looks like the biggest party I’ve ever been to,” she breathed, chest rising and falling rapidly with excitement. “What do I even do in there? Walk up and join in?”

“That’s the idea,” I confirmed. “You’re about to get real friendly with a lot of strangers.”

She shivered.

Maybe something was wrong with me, but I wasn’t as enthusiastic about the prospect of splitting up as she was. Still, it seemed unfair to hold her back. “If you get overwhelmed again…”

“I’ll be fine,” she assured me. “And if I’m not, like I said, I know how to get back to your house. Maybe I’ll comfort myself with a movie. I’m sure you’ve got some mid-two-thousands romcom in there I can enjoy.”

“Don’t knock romcoms,” I warned playfully. “There’s no shame in watching people fall in love.”

“You only say that because you’re a romantic,” she argued.

“I’m romantic?” Why did it sound like an insult, coming from her? “Where did you get that impression.”

“From someone we’re not talking about on this trip.”

The cart pulled up beneath the porte cochere, and Charlotte hopped out before I could help her.

“Is this where we part ways?” I quipped, and she beamed at me. “Meet you back at the house tonight?”

“If you’re not back by sunrise, I’ll send a rescue party.” I framed it as a joke, but the thought of Charlotte spending the night with anyone else felt wrong. Thinking about not holding her as she slept made my arms ache.

Maybe it would be better if she spent the night with someone else.

“Go on,” I said, against every instinct raging at me in the moment. “Have a good time.”

I watched her practically skip off into the castle and considered getting on the cart and going home. But we’d made a deal. I was going to get laid tonight, and, damn it, I would enjoy myself.

By the time I got into the lobby, Charlotte was nowhere to be seen. I wasn’t in the mood for domination or impact play. At least, not without her. So, I headed to the other lounge.

The swingers room was an all-out fuckfest. There was no other way to describe it. Though it was early in the evening, there were already threesomes, foursomes, tangles of limbs and moaning, writhing bodies covering most of the furniture. By the time the sun came up and the party ended, the room would smell like sweat and sex. Despite my half-hearted investment in the night, my cock rose in my trousers.

I scanned the room, looking for anyone who didn’t seem to have a partner. Or, partners, plural. I wasn’t in the mood for a group situation.

That’s when I spotted exactly what I wanted. Leaning against the wall, naked, his broad shoulders and ripped torso enough to make me feel like I’d been slacking on my core workout. He had the body of a professional wrestler, the haircut of a Marine, the pretty face of an A-list actor, and a shocking lack of people draped all over him.

He noticed me as I made my way toward him, feeling overdressed and weirdly old as I leaned on my cane for support to maneuver past a couple on the floor. His gaze traveled over me, his placid expression never changing. There was something cold in his eyes that appealed to me. I hoped he was into men, because I was about to proposition him.

“Taking a break?” I asked by way of greeting, once I was close enough to be heard over the driving dance music.

“Getting warmed up.” He took his half-hard dick in his hand and stroked it, tilting his head as he regarded me. “Top or bottom?”

I gave him a slanted smile. “Versatile.”

“Something to be said for flexibility,” he replied in his flat, almost bored affect.

Damn, that arrogance was sexy. It was like a challenge.

“Something to be said for privacy,” I countered.

He raised his dark eyebrows.

I grinned. “Come with me.”

I hated my slow pace as we left the room, but the nameless stranger didn’t seem to mind. He walked beside me up the stairs, to the long hall of private rooms. There was one at the end of the hallway, flanked by metal bracketed torches with blown glass electric flames. Unlike the other rooms, this one didn’t have a number.

“I think that’s for staff,” the guy said as I passed the final open room on the hall.

I took my keys out of my pocket and dangled them. “I know the owner.”

I don’t know if I expected him to act impressed, but he wasn’t. “You are the owner, aren’t you?”

That took me aback. Usually, if people knew I owned the resort, they were clamoring to fuck me. Which could be a little off-putting. It wasn’t as much fun to have sex with someone who was doing it for prestige the act certainly did not carry.

“I am,” I confirmed. “Is that a problem?”

He shook his head and looked me up and down. “I don’t see much in the way of a problem here.”

My hand tightened on my cane. I slipped the key into the lock and pushed the door open. “Then come on in.”

My private room in the castle wasn’t necessarily larger or more opulent than any of the others. It was just free all the time, so I didn’t have to wait. Sure, I had my house, but I rarely took resort guests back with me. My castle room was outfitted with a wide, padded bench about the size of a double bed, a tall, wing-backed chair, and an armoire stocked with toys, restraints, and safe sex supplies to accommodate any comfort level. All the furniture, and even some spots on the walls, had attachment points for ropes or shackles.

As the stranger walked in and I closed the door behind us, I noted the way his near-flawless, tanned skin stretched tight over the muscles of his back, like his strength was so great it could barely be contained. I was no slouch in the gym, even after the bear accident, but I’d never looked anything like this guy.

I tried not to guess at the occupations of resort members; if they’d passed initial screening, I knew they hadn’t made their wealth off war crimes and human rights violations. But I couldn’t imagine what kind of job a real-life action figure like this man would have that he could afford a membership to Ascend Red. He had to be a pro athlete of some kind. Or maybe a fitness model who’d done remarkably well for himself.

He walked around the room, eyes narrowed almost suspiciously. “No cameras in here either, right?”

“No cameras,” I assured him. “Have you been here before?”

“Once. But I wasn’t quite ready to…” he shrugged. “I was more of a voyeur that time.”

“Sometimes, that’s all people come here for.” I went to the tall-backed armchair in the corner and sat, suppressing a groan of relief at being off my leg. “All of our members here have a lot at stake. I want them protected from blackmail. And I want to be protected from it too. Hence, no cameras.”

“I’m nervous,” he admitted. This physically intimidating man was nervous?

Why did that make me feel like we were on even footing?

“I’ve never done anything with a guy. Don’t get me wrong, I’m bisexual, I just…” He stopped himself. “I’m sorry, this isn’t therapy. You came up here to fuck.”

“I invited you up because I found you intriguing,” I clarified. “I don’t want anything from someone who isn’t ready to give it.”

His shoulders visibly relaxed. “I’ve never felt safe or comfortable hooking up with a dude. In the real world, I mean.”

“I get it,” I promised. “I’m bi. I went through a lot of years being with only women because it felt easier.”

“Exactly,” the stranger agreed heartily. “Look… You’re hot as hell. You know that.”

“I think I look okay.” Liar. I knew I was gorgeous. And I knew there were doors in my life that never would have opened if I hadn’t been.

Finally, that got a smile out of him.

“You don’t have to put up a front. You’re here to have a good time, not to second-guess yourself,” I told him. “And I’m up for pretty much anything with you.”

He blushed. The big strong guy blushed.

I got to my feet and moved toward him. He leaned against the wall and waited for me, his intense gaze never breaking from mine. I stepped up so close, I had to avoid crushing his bare toes with my loafers. I bent one knee between his and leaned in; his hands clenched to fists and his cock pressed into my stomach.

At six-three, I wasn’t short, but this guy had two inches on me, at least. I could reach his throat, so that’s where I kissed him, with a long sweep of my tongue. The shudder that went through him shot straight to my dick. The thought that I could get a reaction out of him when he seemed physically and emotionally carved from stone thrilled me.

The prospect of making him lose all that tightly held control brought a sound of pure hunger from deep in my chest, and he echoed it with something more desperate, tinged with need.

“What do you want?” I asked, grazing my teeth over his shoulder.

“I…” His eyes closed, and his Adam’s apple bobbed with a nervous swallow. “I want to suck your cock. I want you to fuck me. I want—”

He cut himself off by lowering his head to capture my mouth in a searing kiss. I held on to his massive biceps, dug my fingers in the way I wanted to dig my teeth in. One hand sank into my hair and tightened, holding me against him. Our tongues slid together, sparking delicious sensation through me until we both had to stop for breath.

“Well, you’re in luck,” I quipped in response. “Because I want to fuck you.” I ran my thumb over his full bottom lip. “And I want you to suck my cock.”

“Oh, fuck, that’s hot,” he said with a breathless laugh.

I reached between us and gripped his shaft, sliding my hand back and forth a little. Not enough stimulation to be anything other than a tease. A taste of what I wanted him to have. Then I pulled away.

“What if I told you exactly what to do?” I suggested, turning away from him.

“And I had to obey whatever you said?” There was a cockiness to it, an element of challenge that made my pulse roar in my ears.

I opened the armoire. “Exactly. You know the safe word, don’t you?”

“I do,” he confirmed with a nod, never moving from the wall. “But I don’t want to be tied up.”

“I don’t tie people up unless they ask me to. What I do…” I selected one of my favorite toys, a weighted silicone plug with a remote-controlled vibrator. I held it up and his eyes widened adorably. I opened a drawer and took out some lube and a few condoms and tossed it all on the bench. “…is make people’s fantasies come true.”