CHAPTER EIGHT
TRAVIS
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Leaning against the open sliding door that leads out to a balcony high above Central Park, I take a drag on my cigar.
I blow it out and watch the smoke drift into the darkness. Then back at the naked woman sitting on my bed looking like the most beautiful seductress I’ve even seen.
Her blonde locks are a mess, her lips bruised, and she has a glow on her cheeks that screams a real man has fucked her roughly.
He has.
Me.
I did that.
Which normally I’d be just as sated and happy with. I’d call her a cab and maybe return for seconds.
Except I’m supposed to be building Brook’s confidence and lining up another date. Which means less dick and pussy and more conversation. Something I’ve failed at for the past three hours.
Do you want to slaughter your father or keep tasting her pussy?
“So, what do you do?” I ask, taking another draw on the cigar and slowly blowing it out. I know exactly who she is, but Brook doesn’t know that.
“Guess?”
“Lawyer.”
“Try again.”
“Schoolteacher.” I smirk.
“Would you like that? To think you have a naughty schoolteacher naked in your bed?”
I shrug. “I don’t give a fuck what you do. You’re naked and you are in my bed.”
Which is not something that occurs often. I do not bring women back here. I fuck them at their house or at the club. Rarely in my personal space.
“Take one more guess.” Brook teases me, and I like it.
I like that she’s intelligent and sexy and bold.
That she’s having fun while completely vulnerable and ready for me to sink my thick cock inside her should I choose.
I’m a dominant man, and yet she seems to rise to the challenge, almost taunting me as if it turns her on.
I push away from the doorframe and cross the room to the bed, cupping one of her breasts in my hand.
She slightly arches.
Brooklyn gave her entire body to me, but I know she wants to retain some control. My ability to command her body turns her on and concerns her.
I run my thumb over her nipple, and she lets out a curse.
My cock thickens, and while I realize my mistake—don’t try to have a conversation with a sexy, beautiful woman while she’s naked—I can’t stop.
Stubbing the cigar out on the ashtray by the bed, I grab her thigh and move between her legs.
“Travis.” Her moan is pathetic.
“Keep talking,” I say, leaning to lick her swollen cunt.
“What?”
I smile. She can’t think while I eat her out.
Then again, neither can I.
What were we talking about?
Pushing both her legs as wide apart as they’ll go, I swirl my tongue around her pussy and watch her eyes fall back.
“Cup your tits.” I rasp.
Her hands do my bidding as her juices flow, and my cock gets rock fucking solid again.
“Please, yes. Oh, my god.” She moans and lifts her hips.
Nope. If she’s going to come again, it’s on my cock. The way she tightened around me earlier was divine. If I were a drug addict, I’d swap her sweet cunt for heroin any day.
I suck on her clit, taking her to the edge, then swiftly straighten, line my cock up, and slam inside her.
“You take my cock so good.”
My hand slams on the wall above her, and I cup the back of her head, forcing her eyes to mine.
Slam.
Brook is tiny under me and, Jesus, I love how my body engulfs her, empowering her, owning her. I want to destroy all her walls and hear her begging for release. For my cock.
For my mouth.
She grips the sides of my body, her nails digging into me, and I curse. The smile on her lips, which vanishes the moment I thrust in deeper, tells me she’s hanging on to what little control she has.
Then, when I reach between us and rub that hard nub, she loses the battle. Her body tenses, starts to shudder, and I follow, filling her with more of my cum.
I flop to the side and pull her against me, claiming her mouth. Lazily kissing her, I feel my cock isn’t done.
I have stamina, but this is crazy.
“I could stay inside you for days and never get enough.” I kiss her again.
“Not sure I’d argue. You’re an excellent lover,” Brook says, then something shutters over her eyes.
I pull back. “What?”
“Nothing. I was just thinking about work.”
Liar.
But it’s a reminder to pick up the pathetic attempt I made at talking. I need to get my shit together. Adjusting my position, Brook lays her head on my bicep, and we stare at one another.
“One more guess,” she says, reading my mind. Which she doesn’t because I know very well she is an investigative journalist with a podcast.
“Marketer.”
She smiles, giving me the tiniest shake of her head.
“Come on, you memorized my phone number but didn’t Google me?”
I shake my head.
It’s the truth—I didn’t need to.
“I was busy today. Arranging our dinner.” I wrap her thigh over mine and wonder if I sink inside her again, we could keep talking.
I’m useless at this.
Brook snorts. “Well, if you are telling the truth, then that proves you aren’t looking for a relationship. So that’s a good thing.”
“I promise I’m not.”
She studies me a minute longer then announces, “I’m a journalist.”
“ The New York Times ?” I lift a brow.
“No, self-employed.”
“How does that work?” I ask, playing out the conversation as I’d imagined it for a few days.
“I have a podcast.” Brook attempts to move away from me, and I get a sense she’s either ashamed or hiding something.
I can’t imagine why.
But I don’t let her go far. Tugging her back, I kiss her again and wait until her muscles relax. Then cup her breast and slowly play with her nipple.
“You don’t have an off button.” She purrs.
“No.”
“I’m getting sensitive.”
I release her breast and cup her face, letting my thumb brush harshly over her bottom lip. “Tell me about the podcast.”
She kisses me. “You won’t be interested.”
“How do you know? You haven’t asked what I do.” I lift a brow. “Unless you googled me. Which, if you’re a journalist, I guess you did.”
“You guessed right. Travis David Warner. You own the chain of Alliance golf courses across the country. You’re not married, have no children or siblings, and have a net worth of one point five billion. Mostly made up of land, property, and stocks.”
She’s right, the land my golf courses sit on is worth a lot. Many with ocean views and all in prime locations to attract the customer base we have.
“Impressive.” My lips twitch. “What else did you find?”
Suddenly I don’t want her to know about the Alliance Club. It shouldn’t matter because she’ll never connect me with the man I once was, but that isn’t why I don’t want her to know.
Owning an adults-only club comes with its own judgments, and despite the fact I’m lying naked with my cum pouring out her pussy, I don’t want her knowing that place is a part of who I am.
I guess I want her respect.
Weird.
The Alliance Club is not easy to find—membership is by invitation only—but she’s an investigative journalist, so it’s possible she will at some point.
By then, Brook will have done her part in my plan, and I’ll have walked away.
It’s much more important that she doesn’t find out my true identity. She cannot know I am Leo Taylor’s son.
“You’re single, don’t have much of a public profile, and were in your mid-twenties when you created the golf courses.”
“Correct.” I wrap one arm behind my head and lean back against the pillows.
I wait for her to mention the club.
“Pretty boring really.” Her fingers trail down my chest.
“Most women are excited to meet a billionaire. Aren’t you going to ask me to fly you to the Hamptons in a chopper?”
“No, I’ve done that.”
She’s not watching as I smirk.
“Holiday in the Maldives?”
“I prefer to ski.”
“Switzerland then.”
She glances up just before reaching my cock and grins. “That would definitely be a date, so no thanks.”
I grab her hand and place it on my chest, suddenly wondering why she is so against dating. I’d go so far as to say I was worried. “Who hurt you, Brooklyn?”
She pulls away and starts to climb out of bed.
I let her go.
“I’m single, so all of them, obviously.” She laughs while pulling on her dress, and it’s fake as hell.
Am I going to be the next asshole that hurts her?
Another reason to do this fast and not get too close. It’s not what either of us wants.
I tuck my other arm behind my head. “I enjoyed tonight.”
Brook sits on the edge of the bed, putting her shoes on. She’s wearing a pair of sexy high heels with a goddamn sprained ankle. Typical Manhattan woman . But I kept that thought to myself because she wore them to look sexy.
For me.
When she returns from the bathroom, she walks to her purse and looks inside, closes it, then finally looks my way.
“Thank you for dinner, Travis. Do me a favor, don’t listen to my podcast.”
I laugh. “Why not?”
“Because I suspect you’ll call me a conspiracy theorist or some other derogatory term that people who follow mainstream media use these days.”
I lift a brow.
“Can’t it be both?”
“Generally, not.” She blanches and hops on her foot, and I’m out of bed before I know what I’m doing.
“Sit.” I point to the bed and nudge her off her feet. “Do not move.”
“I’m fine.”
I head to the bathroom, ignoring her, and clean up. Then grab a pair of sweatpants on my way back through the walk-in closet.
“Wow, is it possible for you to look terrible? Like ever?” Brook shakes her head.
“Why don’t you stay and find out? I might look like a monster in the morning,”
Did I just ask her to stay the fucking night?
What is wrong with me?
I walk over, push her legs apart and step between them, then lean down to kiss her. It deep and long, one that neither of us wants to end.
She’s panting when I release her mouth.
I don’t wait for her to decline my invitation, because I know she will. That’s far too much like a relationship for both of us. Although I’d be happy to wake up and fuck her all day Sunday.
“I want to see you again,” I rasp, my hand on her neck.
“No.”
“Okay.”
She blinks. Just once. But it’s enough.
That was not the answer she was expecting, nor wanted.
“Then let me reword that. I want to fuck you again.” I push her back on the bed, my cock tenting my sweatpants and pressing into her dress.
“You have no panties on, and it would take little effort to be inside you again.” I growl.
“But you are sore right now, so say yes, and I’ll pick you up after work on Monday and spend the night eating your pussy. ”
Brooklyn tries to fight it, so I slide my fingers under her dress and inside her already wet flesh.
“Or you can choose option C, which is both.”
Her fingers dig into me, and hips lift in answer.
“Fuck me,” Brook moans.
I flick my cock out and thrust inside her. I hear her purse drop to the floor as I yank her dress down and take her nipple in my mouth.
“That’s my dirty girl,” I growl.