Chapter 24
24
And so we take a shower together—adding two more to my almost alarmingly high tally of orgasms accumulated over the weekend. We have brunch with the remaining wedding party guests and we say goodbye to Blake and Leah, who invite us to a dinner party next month. We’re spared from any further confrontations with Margot, who seems to have been convinced enough by our performance and left early this morning. And we climb into the Maddox Enterprises helicopter to make our way back to Manhattan.
I don’t know how to feel.
So I concentrate on the view of the Hamptons, which is just as beautiful as it was on Friday evening. But it looks different now. The whole world looks more vibrant and technicolored. Maybe because I’m a completely different person than I was three days ago. My body feels punished but enlightened in the best kind of way. After never having had a romantic relationship of any substance in my life, I’ve agreed to spend another night with my hot billionaire fake date. Because he’s beautiful and sexy as sin and I’m not quite ready to walk away from the magic he infuses into everything.
I’m a realist because I’ve had to be and I’m not allowing myself to think past tomorrow, but right now I’m feeling all of it.
I think I’m sort of desperately love with him, if that’s what this is. It feels overwhelmingly good to be close to him. He feels like mine.
He’s not mine, of course. He’s a guy I met three days ago—actually two—who I barely know anything about except that he’s a sweet-dirty talker, an extremely good lover and he might just break my jaded heart if I’m not careful.
Alexander is checking a few of his messages on his phone. Answering them. He seems to have a lot.
I watch him as he does this. It gives me a minute to just appreciate his magnificence without him being aware of it. That thick black hair that I know the feel of so intimately between my fingers. The handsome face that I once thought was stern and severe but now is relaxed and more endearing than I’d like to admit. The wide shoulders under the black cashmere sweater he’s wearing. The broad chest and hard flatness of his abs. The way his black pants fit him…his muscular thighs and his long legs...it touches something primal in me. He’s so impressive. So outrageously masculine. The swell of that gigantic?—
“You’re relentless, Jones.” He’s caught me staring at him. “You’ll get more of that as soon as we land.”
I turn to look out the window. “I don’t know what you mean.” But I bite my cheek to stop myself from smiling at him and I can feel the warmth on my face.
“What’s your number, Ivy Laine?”
“We’re exchanging numbers now? Do you think we’re ready for that?” I joke.
“We’ve exchanged a lot more than numbers. I think we can handle it.”
We certainly have. It’s shocking to think about exactly how much we’ve exchanged. I give him my number and he keys it into his phone.
“I’ll send you a text so you have mine.” My phone immediately chirps with an incoming message from inside my bag.
I can see the city skyline now. We’re getting close.
My heart beats faster because I don’t know what will happen. It was easy in the Hamptons. We had the buffer of our charade.
Now, we have Real Life stuff to contend with. Including the very heavy threat of police investigations and criminal convictions. Not to mention the possible consequences of having unprotected sex so many times I lost count—which are about as Real Life as it gets.
Tomorrow. I googled it and I have three to five days, at the absolute most. I’ll make that decision tomorrow and act on it. A hundred percent definitely.
Even if it’s only tonight, even if the haze of our playful conversations, our blazing lust and our intense chemistry fades out under the burn of New York’s glow, I’m grateful.
I’m grateful he showed me that an instant connection between two people can actually happen. I don’t have to wonder anymore if there’s something wrong with me because I never clicked with a man before him. I’m not broken. I’m capable of morphing into a sex goddess on steroids and I love that about myself. With him, I feel sexy beyond belief and it’s empowering.
I’m grateful I just had the best weekend of my life. I’m grateful it was him I finally cashed in my V-card with. It was as beautiful and hot as it possibly could have been. That’s something special. Not everyone’s first time is so…luxurious.
I’m grateful we have one more night together. I’ll stay with him tonight then I’ll leave in the morning, without expectations. Expectations have gotten me nowhere in the past and I’m emotionally prepared for this to end whenever it ends. I mean, he’s gorgeous and perfect, and I can hope that some of the things he said to me actually meant something. But chances are they were just words, spoken in the heat of a moment. Which is fine. It was a beautiful moment that’s now almost over. My heart is locked up behind her fortified brick wall that’s taken me a long time to build. I’ll be okay, like I always am. Like I always force myself to be because I have no other choice.
I’m grateful Josh will be back in the afternoon and he’ll have put the money back and everything will settle down. We’ll deal with what we need to deal with.
Everything will be fine.
The helicopter descends over the helipad on the top of Alexander’s building, touching down lightly before the engine revs down and the propellors begin to slow.
“Hey,” Alexander says softly, brushing his thumb gently over the furrow between my eyebrows, smoothing it. He unfastens both our seatbelts and lifts me into his arms. “Whatever you’re worrying about, don’t.”
“You don’t have to carry me.”
“Yes. I do. Over the threshold,” he says.
“What?” I laugh a little. “What threshold?”
“The one where this stops being a fake date and becomes a real one. Starting right now.”
It’s…sweet.
It does feel meaningful.
He carries me across the upper level of the rooftop, allowing me to once again marvel at the extreme opulence of the setting. All of New York City is laid out below us. And this time, I’m not just passing through to play a role. I’m here because he wants me here.
Alexander carries me into a glass elevator, which gives us a view of the lower level of the rooftop. I got a brief glimpse of it when we flew out, but now I can really take it all in. The huge, pristine pool surrounded by tropical plants is next-level. The wealth it would have taken to create something like this boggles the mind.
The elevator doors open and we enter the roof garden. Clearly no expense has been spared on the greenhouse or the outdoor kitchen and seating area, which is like a luxury lounge, framed by marble columns and folding doors that are pushed all the way open. Long white curtains have been tied back with gold tassels, giving the place a Roman Empire vibe. A giant flat-screen is mounted against one interior wall, playing a baseball game on mute.
Two men are hanging out by the pool. They’re drinking beer. One of them is cooking burgers on a grill, the other one is just climbing out of the glittering water. They’re both tall, muscular and shirtless, wearing only swim shorts.
They both look a lot like Alexander. At a guess, they must be two of his brothers.
They watch us approach. And both their jaws sort of drop.
“I don’t remember inviting you two to help yourselves to my pool,” Alexander says, but his tone is light. It’s easy to read that he gets along well with his brothers.
“And I don’t remember you being such an asshole,” says the brother who’s now drying his dark hair with a towel. He’s got a mischievous glint in his blue eyes. “Oh wait, yes I do.”
Both of them are intently watching the way Alexander is holding me in his arms. “Ivy, meet Noah. And Colton, who’s the most obnoxious of my brothers most days.”
“But today is not that day.” Recognition flickers across Colton’s smile as he checks me out. “Wait a minute. Ivy Laine? Your fake date is Ivy Laine?”
Alexander sighs, like he’s tired of the question. “Yes. You’ve heard of her?”
“Of course I’ve heard of her. Hey, Ivy. Cleo plays your music in the office all the time. And why didn’t Cleo mention she’d set you up with Ivy Laine?” Colton seems offended by the omission.
“Because it’s none of your fucking business,” Alexander explains, almost patiently.
Carefully, he sets me down on my feet, his arm settling around me.
“Hey, Ivy,” Noah says. He visibly stops himself from stepping forward to kiss my cheek or shake my hand because of the growly “mine” energy practically radiating off Alexander.
“Hi,” I smile, feeling a tiny bit awkward and flushed. The effects of my most recent double endorphin rush are still lingering and I wonder if it’s obvious to them that Alexander and I spent the weekend having very hot sex. “It’s nice to meet you both.”
“How was the wedding?” Noah is clearly trying not to stare, but he’s riveted and mildly entertained by the way Alexander is touching me.
“It was good,” Alexander replies, not elaborating.
“Everything went…well?” Noah’s digging for details.
“Yes,” Alexander confirms. “So well that you two can feel free to leave anytime you want.”
Colton finishes his beer, smiling widely. “Wow. Now, that’s a first.”
“I’m sure it’s not. I’ve definitely kicked you out of my apartment before,” Alexander’s voice is deep and graveled, like his comment is a veiled warning.
Which Colton completely ignores. He obviously enjoys getting a rise out of his oldest brother. “Ivy, you should know that Alexander has never brought a woman home to his fancy penthouse before, not in all the time he’s lived here.”
I glance up at Alexander. “Really?”
“Not once,” Colton says. “We were starting to wonder if our boy here is allergic to?—”
“No one asked for your opinion, little brother,” Alexander cuts him off. “And I’d hate to have to rearrange that pretty-boy face, so my advice to you is to shut the fuck up.”
Noah laughs, shaking his head as he flips the burgers he’s grilling. “Sorry about them, Ivy. They’re like this all the time. And you can’t kick us out yet, we’re just about to eat. Do you guys want a burger? There are plenty here. And we just opened a bottle of Mo?t because it was in your fridge and we figured you’d either be celebrating or you’d need to drown your sorrows.”
“Definitely celebrating,” drawls Colton, grinning at me. “Big time.”
So we end up eating a late lunch together, as Alexander keeps me close to him. His brothers watch his protective way with me with low-key fascination, like his behavior is unrecognizable to them.
But they’re easy to be with and their crude banter is funny and full of affection.
All three of them are gorgeous, successful, built (I can’t help but notice) men. At any other time of my life, I’d be intimidated to be surrounded by three of the four coveted-by-every-woman-in-Manhattan-with-a-heartbeat Maddox brothers. But they’re welcoming and so comfortable in their own skin and their close-knit family dynamic, I end up just relaxing into it. I find myself enjoying their company.
Their extreme comfort around each other reminds me that I’ve sort of…missed out on a family. I have Josh, of course, and the two of us have always had an us-against-the-world outlook, but I’m still responsible for him. I’m always pushing him to work hard and make the most of his talents, and I’m sure I sound like a broken record most of the time. I know he gets annoyed by it and I would too. But if I don’t do it, who will? I know for a fact he wouldn’t have achieved half the things he has if he hadn’t been encouraged (okay, and lectured) on practically a daily basis.
It would be nice to have the kind of support these brothers clearly give each other, on a more even level.
It felt so good to lean on Alexander for the weekend. To feel protected by him. To not be alone for a change.
Don’t get used to it, girl. You’re going home tomorrow.
For now, I let Alexander hold me against his big, warm body, his hands casually stroking my hair and my skin.
It’s amazing to me that he already feels so familiar. Being with him is so easy, in a way that very few things in my life have been. It takes me a second to put a name on the way Alexander Maddox makes me feel and I’m almost unnerved by the realization.
He feels like home.
As they talk and laugh, I let that thought settle, holding onto it. For tonight and tonight only, I’ll let myself savor it.
Listening to their conversation, I learn that Colton is the youngest, at 26, and all four brothers are only a year apart. “Our parents were very busy for four years,” Noah explains. “Then they barely spoke to each other ever again.”
Alexander told me that his father was stern and business-minded and the two of them had a difficult relationship before his death a few years ago. Colton and Noah add more details to the story.
Their father was a tyrant, according to Colton, and a genius, according to Noah. Their father wasn’t interested in earning their love but did earn a certain amount of their respect, mainly because he taught all four of them how to make a shitload of money.
It’s easy to see that Colton is the wild child youngest son who enjoys winding his brothers up. He’s got a rebellious streak and spends a lot of his time “sowing his wild oats,” as Noah puts it.
Colton is gorgeous but in a more college-boy way than Alexander, whose masculinity is seasoned and swarthy and baked in. I have no doubt Colton Maddox could have any woman he wanted. Alexander knows this about his brother only too well, it seems. He keeps me very close to him, shielding me and shutting down Colton’s naturally flirtatious jokes.
Noah is more relaxed. He’s built like a football player, slightly stockier than his brothers, but still tall and lean. He’s almost romantically good-looking, with hair just a fraction longer and lighter than the other two. The blue of his eyes is more of an aquamarine than sapphire. His sense of humor is wry and genuine, and his low laugh is infectious. It’s easy to see that he’s the diplomat of his family, keeping the peace between the other two, whose personalities rub up against each other like flint and steel. He’s smart, and his brothers clearly respect him and rely on his advice.
They talk about their other brother Cash, who recently fell for a woman he met in Hawaii. “They had a one night stand,” Noah tells me, “but they never told each other their first names. And when he woke up the next morning, she was gone.”
Colton shakes his head. “We were all wondering what his problem was when he got back because he was so distracted, searching for clues about who she was on the internet all hours of the day and night. But he couldn’t find her.”
“How did he find her?” I’m already deeply invested in this story.
“She turned up a month or two later as his new junior analyst.” Colton tops up our glasses, laughing about it. “I swear Cash would have given her the keys to his office if she’d only said the word. The cynic of our family—or one of them, anyway—was slayed.”
Noah grins. “He really was. And still is. I think it’s getting worse.”
Colton tips back his drink. “That ring on her finger is ridiculous. We’re talking two mil, easy. Cash said he knew the minute he saw her that he’d marry her. I asked him if he got abducted by aliens in Hawaii and they swapped his brain for some sappy romantic’s, but he only smiled and told me it’ll happen to me one day. Personally, I can’t think of anything worse.”
Alexander’s arm wraps more securely around me. “I think it’ll happen to all of us. In fact, I’d bet money on it.” Alexander presses an open-mouthed kiss to my neck.
It’s incredibly intimate.
And both his brothers are watching.
Noah takes the hint. “Yeah, we should think about hitting the trail, Colt. I’ve got to stop by the office and pick up some paperwork Cleo was working on for me, about a legacy company I’m thinking of buying. It’s floundering and the price is right.”
We’ve finished eating and two people dressed in waitstaff uniforms are discretely cleaning up. They collect our dishes before disappearing. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised that Alexander has staff.
Alexander is holding me so close I’m practically sitting on his lap on the large couch. “I’m going to show Ivy inside,” he says. “You two can let yourselves out.”
Colton nudges Noah. “I guess that’s our cue.”
“It was a pleasure to meet you, Ivy,” Noah stands, reaching to shake Alexander’s hand. “Cash and I will be at your office at eleven-thirty tomorrow morning.”
“Right,” Alexander says, like he’d forgotten about whatever meeting they’d scheduled.
“We’re having an office party out at my Hamptons place a week from Saturday,” Noah says, to us both. “You two should come.”
“We might be away that weekend,” Alexander tells him.
Away?
That weekend?
Colton follows Noah’s lead, putting his shirt on. “Ivy, I’d kiss your hand like the gentleman I am, but I know from experience that Alex’s right hook is a doozy and extremely painful. I do have to tell you though that this is a brand new look for our esteemed and very lone wolf oldest brother and I’m digging it. I’m sure we’ll see you again. And you should also know that, despite the billionaire grump shtick, he’s without a doubt the most trustworthy person I know. I’ve never in my life heard him say something he didn’t completely mean.”
I smile. It’s somehow exactly the right thing to say. “It was nice to meet you, Colton. Bye, Noah.”
Noah grabs Colton by the scruff of his shirt and pretends to drag him away.
“Bye, Ivy!” Colton yells.
The elevator to the street level closes behind them and Alexander pulls me by the hand toward the open glass and steel sliding doors leading into his apartment. “Sorry about them.”
“They’re nice.”
He leads me inside and I’m speechless for a few seconds.
His apartment is unreal.
The room is open plan and so spacious I wonder if this room takes up the entire floor. Three walls are steel-framed glass, so clean it looks like there’s no glass at all. The twinkling lights of the city at dusk spread out like a textured, glittery carpet all around us.
All the furnishings are chunky and masculine, but comfortable-looking and very clearly the best that money can buy. A few tropical plants continue the theme from the outdoor area. Low lights illuminate a wall of built-in shelves, where spotlit compartments contain single pieces of glass, stone and metal sculptures.
It’s sort of minimalist but there’s a plush comfort to it too. The whole place sort of hums with safety and luxury.
“Wow.”
“I’ll give you a tour tomorrow. But right now there’s only one room we need to see.”
Alexander leads us down a swanky hallway with art on the walls. I pass by one of them and it looks vaguely familiar. I think it might be a freaking Picasso. The carpet’s so cushiony I feel like I’m walking on clouds.
He opens another door that leads into yet another gigantic area.
So I was wrong about the other room taking up the entire floor. This is the other half of it.
His bedroom.
Again, three of the walls are glass. His bed looks like it might be…is there such a thing as a double king?
I don’t know.
All I know is that the colors are muted, shades of gray and black, lit by the early evening setting sun over the city, down below and far away.
They can’t touch us here. Nothing can.
We’re in a realm that might as well be heaven itself.
It’s almost daunting, how good it all feels. How unreal and how lucky.
Slowly, Alexander pulls me against him and his hand slides under my hair. He gives the nape of my neck a squeeze, sending a current of electric warmth through my entire body, centering in the light pulse that’s already taking hold.
His voice is low and his eyes burn like blue embers. He leans close, his stubble scraping lightly against the shell of my ear. “Stop charming everyone, Jones, including my over-attentive brothers. It makes me want to fucking throttle them. It also makes me want to fill you up with my hot cum again so everyone—and especially you—knows you’re mine.”
I look up into his midnight blue eyes and I don’t care anymore, about what I should or shouldn’t be doing or worrying about. Alexander has a way of soothing everything. All normal considerations are no match for his power over my body, which comes alive whenever he touches me.
“Then do it,” I whisper.
His grip is hard and lust-heavy as he pushes me onto the bed. “Bend over. I want you on your knees.”
I crawl onto the bed and he’s already there, pushing my dress over my ass.
He goes still. “Are you telling me this whole fucking time, in this short little white dress that barely covers you, you weren’t wearing panties?”
“Cleo packed my bag for me. She seems to have forgotten that detail.”
Alexander unzips my dress, pulling it completely off. Then he pushes my head down to the soft duvet and shoves my knees wider. “Give me everything,” he commands, his voice low.
And I will. I want to. I feel different today than I ever have. Like I hold the key to the universe.
I arch for him, offering myself. I’ll give him whatever he wants.
Some buried feminine instinct loves that he’s pinning me down and taking control. I can’t stop him. And even though I don’t want to stop him, the thought gives me a quiet, primal thrill. Which is strange, when you think about it. The simple biology of it. The deep, voracious cravings of my body for him and his aggression and the liquid gush of his pleasure. I want it inside me. I want to inspire it and make it overflow.
I know I can. Very easily. Just by inviting him, and leaning in to how damn hot I am for him. He, too, is sort of rough and crazed with his lust. It’s a heady twist, to fully realize your own sensual power over someone so much bigger and stronger.
He licks me everywhere, eating me slowly at first. Opening me for his own pleasure.
“Fuck, you get me hot, baby girl,” he growls, and I can feel the heavy bulk of him, sliding against me as he mounts. “Are you trying to fuck with me, Jones? Strutting around in this dress like you’re doing it just to push me over the edge? I’m going to have to teach you a lesson.”
The head of his huge cock is there, pushing into the tight, wet constriction of my body. He teases me with his heavy thickness, dipping inside, then retreating.
I arch back and he slides a little deeper and I moan because he feels too good. I want to come. I need it.
“Beg me for it, baby girl. You’re so fucking gorgeous. So wet for my big cock.”
I don’t care about anything except tempting him so much he loses control and gives me what I need. “Please,” I breathe. “I need you. Please give it to me.”
“That’s my good little girl.” He grips my hips and drives slow but so, so deep, until he’s all the way inside me. Thrusting, in, then out, then deeply in. He’s kissing and biting my skin as he fucks me hard.
The sweet, pain-edged ache begins to spread and build deep inside me.
He pulls out a little, but not all the way, pushing back in, stoking the fire. With each plunge, he retreats a little less, until the cyclical glide isn’t a withdrawal at all, but one rolling thrust that stays with me, never leaving the stroking contact of that deep, perfect trigger.
The pleasure compounds, riding a silky wave, coasting then breaking with a force that sends clenching stars through my body that I can feel in zapping surges all the way to my fingers and toes. My inner muscles draw lusciously around his massive, pulsing cock until he groans and lays his body heavily over mine, gripping me as his climax racks through him.