The Billionaire’s Obsession. 3
he replied gruffly, closing the door of the Ferrari and strapping himself in. He watched as Henry got into the Hennessey and entered the track, taking it easy with the expensive vehicle as he rounded the first lap.
I’m not going to do it. I’m not going to do it.
Travis wanted nothing more than to hightail it over to Sully’s Oasis and see if Ally was okay.
Yeah, she’d been okay for a few years now, but that had been before he knew that she worked there as a bartender, without a decent man in her life to watch out for her.
Now, all he could think about was other men salivating over her as the drinks she served got them more and more drunk.
Intoxicated guys were dangerous.
Ally was dangerous to intoxicated men.
Fuck! He wished his damn cock would just explode into tiny little pieces and put him out of his misery.
He put his hand over the denim-clad bulge, wondering if it just might.
Night after night, all he could think about for the last four years was Ally going home to some other asshole, letting him touch her, fuck her until she screamed.
Apparently, that hadn’t happened.
The bastard hadn’t even appreciated what he had with Ally, while Travis would have given his right nut to have her in his bed.
She’d never talked much about her fiancé, and now he knew why.
Too damn tired from working two jobs, she probably did nothing but focus on work.
God knew that she was a hard worker.
He’d put her through the wringer over the years, and she’d never complained about her workload, never stopped the string of sassy remarks coming out of that sexy mouth of hers.
Now, he regretted being so hard on her, but it had been his way of creating some kind of distance between the two of them.
He leaned his head back and closed his eyes, reliving the incident this morning, the mouthwatering fragrance he’d inhaled into his lungs when he’d gotten close to her.
All he’d wanted was to freeze that moment, absorb the light, flowery, intoxicating scent of her skin until it filled every cell in his body.
He wanted her just that damn desperately.
Maybe Ally was a tough woman, but he’d seen the flash of vulnerability in her eyes hidden beneath her sarcastic comments this morning.
And he hadn’t liked it.
How could she not know that she was probably every man’s wet dream? He knew for a fact she was his only wet dream, had known it for the last four years and thirty-two days.
That’s how long he’d been beating off while fantasizing about Ally.
He hadn’t been able to stop himself from getting close to her after she’d let down her guard, letting her know how damn beautiful she was earlier today.
Ally was a fighter, and he hated seeing that hurt look in her beautiful green eyes, unhidden by those sexy, naughty librarian glasses she wore every day that drove him half crazy.
The glasses fueled his fantasy of stripping Ally of every prim and proper notion from her brain and making her come until she became a wanton woman, needing nothing except him.
Was it the glasses she usually donned for most of the day that had kept him from noticing the dark circles under her eyes, and how tired she looked?
Or maybe it was just the fact that his dick was hard every moment that she was in the same room with him, and he’d been too damn defensive to notice.
Grudgingly, he admitted that fighting with her kept her at a distance, which he desperately needed.
But even that wasn’t really working anymore.
He’d barely contained himself from pummeling Jason Sutherland today, just because the guy smiled at Ally.
Sutherland was supposedly an irresistible lure to women because of his golden good looks and money, and Travis didn’t want the man—any man under the age of eighty—near Ally ever again.
She’d just gotten rid of a loser.
Not that Sutherland was a loser, and Travis had actually ended up liking the guy.
But he didn’t like Jason when he was touching Ally, and he hadn’t liked her touching Sutherland either.
The smile she had given Jason this morning had slammed him right in the gut, making him wonder why he’d never seen that relaxed, happy look directed at him.
Maybe because I’m an asshole whenever she’s around? Admittedly, he was an asshole most of the time.
Okay…maybe all of the time.
But there was never a moment that he didn’t feel out of control about Ally.
He’d just learned to rein it in because she was involved with another guy.
He hadn’t had a choice.
But had he known that she wasn’t happy, what that bastard was putting her through, he might not have been as hesitant to poach on another man’s territory.
In fact, he would have done it quite happily and without remorse had he known that Ally wasn’t being treated the way she deserved to be treated.
She might piss him off more often than not, but he hated the thought of her not being treated right by a man who supposedly loved her.
He started the ignition, waiting for it to fire up.
Maybe it would have been better if he hadn’t known about her situation, if he was completely ignorant of the fact that her prick of an ex had hurt her.
But now he did know, and it was driving him completely insane.
She was working too hard, pushing herself too much.
She could end up sick, collapse from exhaustion.
Or some prick at the bar could decide she looked ripe for the picking.
He was angry with himself that he hadn’t noticed before because he was too busy trying to get a grip whenever she was near him.
I’m not going to do it.
I’m not going to do it.
Everything she was going through at the moment could be easily solved, her bills could be paid, and he could pay for her house. Travis scowled. Well…maybe not that house. He didn’t want her living in a home where her ex had banged another woman. Stupid bastard! But he could get her a different home. Hell, he could even help her get into an MBA program if that’s what she wanted. He could do it with a simple phone call. For some unknown reason, all he really wanted to do was make her smile, have her look at him like she’d looked at Jason this morning.
I’m not going to do it. I’m not going to do it.
Shortly, he’d have to spend four days in her nearly constant company on the trip to Colorado. If she ever learned exactly why he needed her to be there, he’d get nothing but scorn and disbelief from her. He’d never tell her. That had been decided before he’d ever insisted on her being there. She’d never have to know.
He wondered irritably what in the hell had possessed him to give her two weeks off. He hadn’t gone more than a few days without seeing her in the last four years. The office would probably fall apart while she was gone. Oh hell, who was he kidding? He’d probably fall apart. Being able to see her, even if they were throwing insults at each other, had been the only thing that had kept him balanced. And she’d still be working at the bar every night, with horny, inebriated men slobbering all over her.
I’m not going to do it. I’m not going to do it.
Nope. He wasn’t going to do it. Travis Harrison did not do anything to draw attention to himself. Making a vow to himself and his brother after his parents had died, he’d clawed to get the Harrison name out of the gutter, make it respected again. And for the most part, it was. There might be an occasional article in the tabloids, but none of it really scandal. There had been talk when their sister had returned after going missing for a few years, and it had been news when Asha had been found and recognized as his brother-in-law Max’s half-sister. But he’d deliberately and carefully never given the news something to talk about in the Harrison family. Not that he hadn’t done anything that could possibly be newsworthy after his parents’ deaths, but he made damn sure that the press never found out. Other than that, he’d kept his goddamn control, and he wasn’t about to lose it.
Travis released a frustrated groan and put the car in gear with a little more force than necessary. He executed a precision turn, the tires squealing as he left the pavement and started down the dirt road that led to the freeway.
I’m not doing this. I’m not. I’m not going to stalk the woman like some kind of lunatic with a dick that’s about to explode! I have control. I’ve always had control.
“Fuck it!”
Travis growled, stopping the vehicle while he pulled out his cell phone, looked up the location of Sully’s Oasis, and programmed the address of the bar into his navigation system. Christ! Did she have to work in that neighborhood? The bar wasn’t far from the Hudson clinic, the same place where Simon’s wife, Kara, had been attacked by drug addicts. Didn’t Ally have any sense? And what the hell was wrong with her ex that he actually let her work in that area with drunken men?
Shit! It’s a public place. I can just stop in for a drink.
Travis was doing it, and he no longer gave a shit about the repercussions.
Strangely enough, although Ally loved the work she did at Harrison much more than mixing drinks, she felt the most comfortable here at Sully’s. It might be a mind-numbingly boring job sometimes, but it was a place where she could be herself, and not have to be on pins and needles all night like she was in her job at Harrison. It might not be as interesting, but it was a lot more relaxed. It wasn’t in the best neighborhood, but most of the customers were regulars, people she saw almost on a nightly basis because it was a small, friendly bar. And Charlie Sullivan was the fatherly type. Her boss here at Sully’s was way different from her billionaire boss from Hell at Harrison. If any guy ever gave her hard time in any way, Charlie booted his ass out the door. He didn’t put up with anyone harassing his bartender or cocktail waitresses.
It was getting later, and the crowd in the small bar was thinning. It was Wednesday, a typically slow night anyway. She wiped down the bar, smiling at several of the patrons she knew, making drink orders in between her cleanup.
She hadn’t told anyone at Sully’s about her breakup with Rick. She’d never had an engagement ring because Rick had never had the extra money, so it wasn’t like Tina or any of the other ladies here at Sully’s had any physical indication that anything had happened. And it was too humiliating to share the fact that her fiancé had been screwing another woman in their bed. She’d kept her problems to herself, coming to work here every evening and just doing her job.
The only person she had confided in was Travis.
“Happy Birthday, Ally!”
Charlie Sullivan, a big bear of man with reddish hair and a booming voice, came out of the back room, carrying a tray of drinks.
“What’s this?”
Ally asked, puzzled. Tomorrow was her birthday, but she hardly wanted to be reminded that she was turning twenty-eight years old, and no longer had a life plan of any kind.
Her middle-aged boss patted her on the back as he brought the drinks to an empty table. “You told me just the other day that even though you make these drinks, you’ve never tried any of them. I think you need a little birthday surprise. Time to try out something new.”
“I have to work tomorrow. And I have to drive home.”
She gave Charlie a dubious look. She didn’t care for beer, and she did have an occasional glass of wine, but that was the limits of her experience with alcohol. Having been the only child of an alcoholic, she didn’t experiment much with booze. Maybe it was a bit odd that she was a bartender and yet had never been drunk. But she never had the time to breathe, much less be laid up with a hangover.
“I’ll take you home,”
Charlie replied, taking her by the arm and leading her around from behind the bar.
“Come on, Ally,”
Tina, one of the waitresses, encouraged as she sidled up to the table. “Live a little. Try a few.”
“I’m not completely done with my cleanup,”
Ally protested laughingly as Charlie brought her over to the table.
“I’ll clean up. And make any drinks that need to be served. Try out your instructor’s concoctions,”
Charlie encouraged.
Ally looked down at the tray of drinks, and then around the bar. There were only a few regulars, and they had already crowded around the table, patting her on the back and hooting for her to celebrate her birthday.
The tray consisted of almost all Blow Jobs, a drink that she’d made about a thousand times, and watched women consume with great relish every single weekend. Charlie had piled the whipped cream on the shot glasses high, which would make it almost impossible for her not to make a mess.
Live a little.
Really, Ally had never really lived, never did one thing that wasn’t carefully planned. Would it really hurt to try to have a little fun just once, laugh with a few friends? It wasn’t like she was going to become an alcoholic like her mother just from having a few drinks. Tomorrow was her birthday, and she’d be spending the entire day taking shit from Travis.
Do it, Ally. For once in your life, do something spontaneous. It’s a special occasion.
“Oh hell, why not?”
she conceded, reaching for one of the shot glasses.
“Oh, no,”
Tina said laughingly, playfully slapping Ally’s hand. “You have to do it the right way.”
Ally groaned, but compliantly put her hands behind her back when Charlie positioned them for her. She’d just try it once. Tina put the drink on a napkin on the table.
Ally had seen this done by other women often, but they made it look much easier than it actually was. Opening her mouth wide, she felt the burst of silky sweetness hit her taste buds and closed her lips around the rim of the shot glass. Unfortunately, the drink slipped and she only downed about half of it, the rest falling down the front of her t-shirt as the glass shot out of her mouth and to the floor.
Everyone groaned, and then laughed uproariously, encouraging her to try again. Tina came forward and gave her instructions on the fine art of doing Blow Jobs, and Ally tried again, getting the entire thing down this time. It was sweet, smooth, and went down easily, the taste delicious. She licked the cream off her mouth and went for just one more.
“Ally, if you’re going to do a blow job, you have to do it right. Tip your head back farther and swallow.”
Travis stopped in his tracks, his whole body freezing as he heard that booming comment from outside the small bar. His hand tightened on the doorknob until his knuckles were white.
Ally? Blow jobs? Swallowing? Holy fuck, no!
Travis felt his anger rising to the surface, something that almost never happened. He rarely let it get that far before stuffing it back inside him, except for his normal disagreements with Ally. But it wasn’t the same kind of anger; it was the much more dangerous kind. His stomach rolled at the thought of what he might find when he stepped inside, and he was suddenly feeling homicidal at the thought of Ally touching anyone in that way—or any way at all.
He heard several men laughing and one female voice that didn’t belong to Ally. What in the hell? Were they having a bar orgy?
Travis put all of his weight against the door as he turned the knob, the forward motion propelling him into the one-room tavern. There, in the middle of the room, was Ally. There was a man holding her hands behind her back, and Ally had her head tilted backward so far Travis was surprised her neck didn’t snap. One woman and several men stood around the table, all of them smiling.
Bastards!
“What in the hell are you doing?”
Travis bellowed, causing Ally’s head to snap forward, and a shot glass to pop out of her mouth. Judging by the amount of empty glasses already on the table, it wasn’t the first.
Ally eyed him in horror, her tongue snaking out to catch white cream from her lips.
Anger was pulsating in waves from Travis as he growled, “Take your fucking hands off her or I’ll break every finger you’ve got.”
Seeing the man, any man, handling Ally made him lose control. And the fact that he was holding Ally in a submissive position nearly had him jumping on top of the guy and pounding the hell out of him.
The older man backed away from her. “Look, man, I’m not looking for a fight. Ally’s my employee. We were just celebrating her birthday.”
“They’re all friends,”
Ally confirmed, licking at her lips again.
“This your guy, Ally?”
the older man asked, looking toward Ally.
“No,”
Ally replied, moving over to Travis. “What are you doing here?”
she whispered anxiously.
“I’m Travis Harrison. And she’s my employee, too.”
Now why in the hell had he said that? He hated telling people who he was. There were very few people who wouldn’t recognize the name. He looked down at Ally with a scowl. “Are you sure they weren’t hurting you?”
“Totally sure,”
she replied, her green eyes slightly glassy.
It was the only answer that kept Travis from beating the hell out of all the men. “Are you drunk?”
he asked, surprised.
She covered her mouth and hiccupped. “I think I might be a little tipsy. I don’t usually drink.”
“I’m taking her home. She’s not driving,”
the older man who’d been holding Ally’s hands behind her back added.
Only in your fucking dreams, man. Travis shot the auburn-haired guy a warning look. “I’m taking her home,”
he informed everyone, his tone daring them to argue. There was no way he was letting anybody near her right now. She was too damn vulnerable in her condition.
Ally put a hand on his arm, and he looked down into her liquid emerald eyes, and then raked her entire body with his gaze. The tank top she was wearing was thin and wet, and he could see the outline of her nipples through the skimpy, low-cut top and obviously damp bra. She had on jeans and sneakers, and he noticed for the first time that her hair was down, the mass of blonde curls tumbling over her shoulders.
“I was just doing Blow Jobs. I’ve never done them before. Would you like a Blow Job?”
Ally asked him, licking her lips again.
Travis almost came in his jeans. Ally was definitely a little beyond tipsy, and had no idea what she was saying. There was no guile on her face, no seductive expression. She was simply offering him a drink because she was in an inebriated daze. But Christ, hearing those words from her lips was one of his horniest fantasies, and watching her flick her tongue to keep licking her sticky, full lips was nearly killing him.
He grabbed her hand and pulled her toward the door. “Time to go home, Alison.”
“Wait.”
She pulled her hand from his and turned to Charlie. “Thanks, Charlie. I had…fun.”
Charlie grabbed her purse from under the bar and handed it to her. “Have a good birthday, Ally,”
he said sincerely.
Travis grabbed her hand, watching her wave happily at the remaining people in the bar as he dragged her out the door.
“Guess you didn’t want a Blow Job. They’re actually really good,”
Ally told him cheerfully as they exited the bar.
“For Christ’s sake…stop saying that, Alison.”
Travis tried to sound calm, tried to keep the desperation out of his voice. If she asked him about that one more time, his cock was definitely going to detonate.
He got her to the car and strapped her into the seat, before moving around to the driver’s side. Tomorrow, they were going to have a very serious talk about her safety. Or maybe there would be no talk…just action. That was what he was good at, and he planned on making certain that Ally was okay from now on. Obviously no one else seemed to worry about her, and her dickhead fiancé had never cared.
Travis knew her parents were both dead, and that she had no siblings. Her father had died when she was very young, and her mother had passed away soon after she had started college. No wonder she had been ripe for the first asshole who had promised her forever. She’d been easy pickings for a hustler like her ex, probably still grieving and alone. Not that she had shared those things with him. Most of her history he’d learned from Kade, and for some reason, that completely pissed him off.
Maybe she talks to Kade because he isn’t an asshole to her like I am.
Travis drove Ally home, saying very little except to get directions to her house. He was afraid that if he said anything, he would definitely lose control. There was no forgetting that moment when he’d seen her with her hands being held behind her back by some other guy. His protective instincts had flared, and he’d been ready to throttle the bastard just for touching Ally, even though the situation had been mostly innocent. He hadn’t reasoned, hadn’t thought anything through…he’d just reacted. Things didn’t work that way for him, not usually. He was a planner, a thinker, weighing the risks and benefits of every action. And he never, ever did anything remotely emotional or scandalous.
“Why did you come to the bar tonight?”
Ally asked quietly, sounding more lucid; clearly, the drive home had sobered her up a little. “I know it’s definitely not one of your usual hangouts.”
“I wanted to make sure you were doing okay,”
Travis answered honestly as he pulled into Ally’s driveway.
“Is it because I nearly had a meltdown in your office earlier?”
No. It really wasn’t. He’d done it because he hadn’t been able to stay away after he’d realized exactly what her situation was in life right now. How could he explain that he suddenly wanted to protect her, fix things for her, in addition to the fact that he was dying to fuck her? He didn’t even understand it himself. But he answered, “Yes.”
It was the easiest excuse.