Chapter 18
Caroline
Oh my God, yes.
The first time we slept together, it was slow and passionate. That was great.
But it wasn’t what I wanted today. Especially after eyeing Rafael in that form-fitting suit all day. A man who was strong, and capable, and protective in all the best ways.
And when I told him that I wanted him to hurry? He gave me exactly what I wanted.
He took charge, forcing me over to the bed and bending me over like I was his own personal plaything. Pulled my hair just the right amount. Whispered in my ear how badly he wanted to fuck me.
I threw my head back and moaned loudly. He drove into me steadily, hitting that perfect angle that was almost too intense for me to handle.
And when his hand slid around my hip and found my clit, pressing into it with the perfect amount of pressure, I absolutely fell to pieces.
My orgasm shuddered through my body like a thunderbolt, so powerful that I almost had to clench my eyes shut, but I kept them open and drank the sight of the two of us in the mirror to the left.
Rafael’s strokes lost their steady rhythm then, and he fucked me harder and more frantically.
His fingers dug into my hip, holding on for dear life as I clamped my pussy around him.
And then he was crying out along with me, his cock trembling inside me, and I wished he wasn’t wearing a condom so I could feel him fill me up with his hot seed.
He fell forward on top of me on the bed, kissing the back of my neck, then the spot between my shoulder blades. I lay there, savoring the weight of his body, slowly catching my breath.
I eventually let out a carefree giggle. Rafael started laughing too, and asked, “What’s so funny?”
“I don’t know.”
“Neither do I.”
Our joined bodies shook together.
I let him go to the bathroom to clean up first, then I did the same. When I returned to the bedroom, the door was open, and he was standing guard with his hands clasped in front.
“I thought we agreed this would only happen once?” I said.
“We did,” he agreed. “But twice is good, too.”
“Twice is very good.” I poked my head out into the hall, checking to make sure nobody was nearby, then I brushed my lips against his.
“My only real concern,” I said quietly, “is that the longer this goes on, the more Harrison is likely to use it against me.”
He flinched. “Use it against you?”
I shrugged. “A man like him knows how to utilize leverage.”
Rafael laughed. “Harrison wouldn’t do that.”
“Wouldn’t he?” I challenged. “He’s ruthless. Cutthroat. It’s how he got to the position he’s in.”
“When it comes to business, sure,” he agreed. “But personal matters are different. Trust me, Caroline. There are plenty of angles where he might use leverage to get what he wants from you, but this isn’t it.”
“How can you be so certain?”
“I just am.” He kissed me again, a little bit longer. Then he pressed his forehead against mine and whispered, “I could fuck you all over again.”
I glanced at my watch. “I could let you.”
His phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked it and sighed. “He has another meeting in five minutes. He wants me to sit in on it.”
“He needs his head of security in a meeting?”
“For some reason, he values my opinion occasionally,” Rafael said. “See you later, Caroline.”
“Will I?” I asked with a suggestive grin.
He smirked back at me, then wiped his face clean like a slate until it was blank. I couldn’t help but stick my head out the doorway to watch him leave.
His slacks made his ass look amazing.
I unpacked my makeup bag and went into the bathroom to apply a few touch-ups. God, it felt so good to be a little reckless. I normally had to be perfectly professional at all times. I rarely got to let loose in any capacity.
I set up my laptop on the balcony and did a little bit of work while admiring the view.
Andre, the man who was supposed to show me to my room, came by and invited me to have dinner on the dining platform—which was similar to my private balcony, but larger and up on the roof, with an even grander sweeping view of Los Angeles in the distance.
I drank a glass of wine by myself before Harrison eventually joined me.
“Sorry. Sometimes I feel like they’re trying to bore me to death with meetings.”
He was wearing form-fitting khaki shorts and a linen shirt, and his thick hair looked perfectly windswept. He sighed as he sank into the chair across from me, then scooted it around so he could take in the view of the city too.
“Quite the view,” I said.
“The best money can buy.” He sipped the wine. “Same for this. Good vintage, I’m told.”
“Almost as good as Napoleonic whiskey.”
He closed his eyes and chuckled. “Rafael told you about that?”
“He didn’t just tell me about it. He poured me a glass.”
Harrison blinked in surprise. “That’s an expensive drink. He must really like you.”
“I think he just wanted a buddy to get drunk with after the knife attack,” I countered.
Harrison dipped his head in agreement, then sipped his wine again. He opened his mouth to say something, then his phone lit up on the table. He glanced at it, then swiped the message away.
“It never ends,” he complained.
“I bet.”
He stared off at the city in the distance. “You know, sometimes I wish I could give this all up.”
I couldn’t help but snicker. “Harrison. I don’t know if you know this, but you’re a billionaire.”
He gasped and put a hand to his chest. “I’m what?”
The joking reaction made me laugh.
“I’m serious, though. You have enough money to retire a thousand times over.”
“I know.”
“Then why don’t you?”
He swirled his wine around in his glass, holding it up to the setting sun to observe the way the legs ran down the glass. Then he turned his intense gaze on me. “Would you?”
“Would I what?”
“If I gave you enough money to retire right now, would you quit your job at The Wall Street Journal? Would you stop doing what you love and sit on a beach all day?”
“All right,” I admitted. “Good point.”
“I like the game too much to quit,” he said, staring off again. “I know that I already have more money than I could spend in a lifetime. But I can’t stop. Not yet. I enjoy this, Caroline. If I retired, I’d be bored out of my mind.”
“My dad got into running when he retired,” I told him. “Marathons and ultramarathons.”
Harrison’s laugh was carefree, like he was only now dropping his billionaire facade and was his true self. “I need something more fulfilling. Besides, I hate running.”
“Me too.”
We clinked our glasses together.
The chef made us a delightful dinner of salmon and roasted potatoes that tasted better than anything I had ever eaten in my life—and that wasn’t an exaggeration.
We chatted about running, and the various hobbies we would get into if we had to retire.
I told him I would try to get my private pilot’s license, and he admitted he would become one of those recluses who spends all his time building train sets in the basement.
When I pointed out he could buy an actual railroad rather than just a toy set, he smiled and said, “I want a hobby, not another investment.”
By the time the meal was over, we had finished the bottle of wine.
Harrison said goodnight to me, and then we hugged.
I wasn’t sure who initiated it, but the hug felt right.
The hug of two acquaintances who enjoyed each other’s company, warm and personal.
He didn’t try to make a move, turning away as soon as the hug ended to make it very clear that it was only a hug, not the prologue to something more.
I went to bed thinking about how much had changed since the auction. Did I actually like Harrison Blackstone as a person? Eddie would laugh when I told him.
Harrison had another private meeting the next morning, and then we flew home to New York. Rafael sat across from me on the private jet, while Harrison paced in the aisle, giving instructions to someone on the phone.
Rafael’s leg brushed against mine accidentally. The next time it happened, it wasn’t an accident. I slipped my shoe off and ran my foot up and down his leg, savoring the way his cheeks reddened.
“You’re bad,” he said when Harrison was out of earshot.
“I know,” I replied. “Isn’t it fun?”
He smiled.
A car was waiting for us on the runway to take us back into the city. The driver whispered something to Rafael, who then whispered in Harrison’s ear.
“For fuck’s sake,” the billionaire cursed.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
“It’s Lucien,” he said as we got into the car. “His private jet landed an hour ago. He’s in New York and wants to meet with me.”