Billionaire Corruption, page 17
At the end of the conversation, I had the feeling that he understood I was making choices differently now, that it was not specifically about people, but about making a choice about how I wanted to lead my life. I would never forget how he told me to get Grace in line, as if she was a servant stepping out of line or a dog that needed punishing.
I had never been as happy as I had been these past few months, getting my hands dirty by painting walls myself and moving furniture around. Some nights, my muscles aching, Grace would massage my back, placing soft warm kisses on my neck, which made every single injury worth it. She was my partner in every way and the coffee shop was our little project. The locals were intensely suspicious of all our efforts, enduring each addition with much objection.
“Now, you’re not going to change the chairs now, are you?” asked one of them.
“No, Mr. Jenkins, I promise you, the chairs will stay,” Grace would promise solemnly.
“I may paint them white though,” I’d call from the back. “That all right with you.”
“Dear God,” the man shook his head, “When will all this end.”
Grace would grin at me and shake her head. “You will drive away all our customers with your endless renovating.”
“You think it is too much?” I’d ask her and she always smiled and shook her head.
“I love it, we’re making it ours.”
That is why, when it came to designing the wedding cake, I wanted something special, to symbolize our relationship and the love we shared.
The baker I spoke to listened carefully to my instructions and even though I could see she thought it was odd, she was willing to go through with it. She constructed a special box to protect it and I wouldn’t let Grace peek. The cake was a surprise.
After the ceremony, I had the caterers bring in the cake and place in on a table at the front, at our bridal table.
“Before I invite all of you to have some of our wedding cake, I want to tell you why I had this special cake made. There is a story behind it, like there is a story of me and Grace too, which most of you probably don’t know about.”
I saw Grace’s father look at her mother and Gwen shrugging.
“You may not know that Grace and I met in an elevator, which fell a couple of floors and almost killed us,” I looked at Grace, whose eyes were brimming with tears.
“When the lights came on, we saw each other and it was a sign, a prophetic vision that both of us could hardly believe at the time. That we were supposed to be together, that we had been placed in this situation so that we would know who our significant other was, the one person we could rely on in this life, to hold on to and help us, no matter how far we plunged down in the darkness. I have no greater wish for all of you, than that you may find and treasure such a person in your life, because for me, it has been the key to true happiness.”
Grace stood up and kissed me to loud applause from our guests.
Then I took the box off the cake, unveiling a big brick of grey with doors that opened to reveal an inside of beautifully constructed sugar flowers and butterflies escaping from a dark, chocolatey interior. It looked fantastic and incredible.
Grace’s hands flew to her face, tears of joy streaming down her face.
She shook her head unable to speak.
“My love,” she finally said. “Thank you.”
She held up a glass and called out a toast, “to love!” and everybody shouted out, “to love” and I saw even my parents share a rare look of tenderness. I had admired status, money and power for so long, but with a shock I realized that love was even more powerful than all of that. It could bring happiness and joy that lasted past all financial quarters and couldn’t be captured on a spreadsheet, because it wasn’t one single small line item among many other assets.
It was, simply, everything.
And the only thing, that truly mattered.
Bonus chapter
I wanted to go somewhere hot for our honeymoon. Somewhere far from the city, no skyscrapers, no highways, not even flyovers. I wanted to look around and see only palm trees and beaches, and maybe, a waiter carrying huge drinks with little umbrellas in them.
“Yes ma’am,” Paul said and kept the destination from me, as a surprise. After the year we had, all the drama with the FBI, his work, starting the new business, I wanted to go somewhere where nothing looked like home or could remind me of what we’d been through. I couldn’t believe that we had finally gotten married, that he was not going to jail and that we had managed to start a completely new life in one of the most beautiful towns on earth. Not to mention that this bad boy was actually mine, forever.
As soon as I stepped out into the hot, tropical air, I started grinning.
“Welcome to the Caribbean, Mrs. McKinney,” he said with a sexy glint in his eyes, and I knew what he was thinking about. But I wanted to go to our resort, put on my bathing suit, and get into the water, at what the brochure said was our private beach.
“See you down there,” I said to him soon after our arrival, giving him a lingering look as I put on my bikini, and left our gorgeous chalet at the water’s edge. I ran down towards the water, kicking off my shoes before I had reached the beach. Then I simply sank into the warm sand, felt the water caressing my skin. It was warm and the temperature was just right. I closed my eyes and leaned back onto the sand.
I was lying in the shallow water, feeling the warm water wash over me. I opened my legs, inviting the water to run over my skin, tickling my clitoris even through my bathing costume. I opened my eyes, quickly looking around, but I was alone. This pleasure was all mine. Wonderful sensations rippled through my body. I leaned back, feeling my body charge with mounting sexual excitement.
I felt Paul come up beside me.
"Hello there," he said, sitting on the warm sand beside me. He reached out and stroked my hair, his eyes never leaving my face.
"Hello there," I replied, leaning towards him, and kissing him, letting my tongue explore the inside of his mouth. He responded, kissing me back and his hand ran up my leg and under my bathing costume. He stroked me, feeling how turned on I was.
“Wait,” I said, my breathing already faster.
I didn’t want to rush this.
"I want you," he said, and I nodded, not wanting to speak. He smiled at me, and I saw the raw desire in his eyes. He pulled his T-shirt up and over his head, then took off his jeans and boxers. I noticed that he was already erect. I sat up, wanting to touch him. My fingers brushed over his thighs, then over the soft skin of his penis. My hands were wet, my fingers slippery, and I explored his body, hearing him moan.
I lay back and opened my legs. I slid my bathing costume aside and let him see me, every inch of my skin. He groaned aloud, then moved in between my legs, his hands under me as he lifted me up, his face between my legs. I felt his tongue, licking me, gently rubbing against my clitoris.
“Oh, my God,” I moaned as his tongue thrust deeper into me, exploring every inch of the most private part of my body.
I arched my body, opened myself up to him, wanting more and he thrust his cock inside of me and I was so wet and slippery, he closed his eyes as we rocked together in the water, not caring who saw us. The energy intensified as our passion gained momentum and I was crying out loud, begging him for more, to go deeper, harder, arching my back to get as much of him inside of me as possible, until I couldn’t bear it anymore and with a loud cry, I came, feeling him come with me.
“Oh baby,” I said as soon as I could speak. “You were wonderful!”
“I don’t know,” he said, smiling as he turned to me, “I think we should keep practicing.”
“Definitely!” I laughed. “How much practice do you think we’ll need?”
“Lots and lots and lots,” he said, leaning over to kiss me again and I felt a spark of desire ignite again, deep inside.
“We have two weeks to practice,” I said with a smile.
He added, “And a lifetime to get it right.”
Here’s a FREE Preview to Erica Frost’s new release “The Comeback: College Second Chance Romance”
I won’t let the quarterback break my heart a second time.
I gave Callum my heart, thinking we were college sweethearts meant for each other.
But once he got on the football team, he dumped me.
Callum is a cruel heartbreaker.
A bad boy who only cares about himself.
When I come across this jerk again, he flirts with me shamelessly.
Wrongfully believing that being the quarterback makes him irresistible.
But I won’t make the same mistake.
He’s not getting a second chance from me.
No matter how hot he looks in his football jersey.
He can flex his muscles and flash his winning smile, all he wants.
I’m not letting him anywhere near me.
But Callum won’t stop pursuing me.
And when I receive terrible news, he’s right by my side.
Is it possible that Callum has changed?
Or is he playing the same old game with me?
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Chapter One
Elsie
“Do you really think I want to spend the evening watching drunken jocks hit on the Cappa Beta girls?” I roll my eyes at my roommate Rachel, grateful not to be one of them.
We all know the type. Pretty little airheads. Perfect hair. Perfect teeth. Perfect everything. As opposed to the rest of us, mortal girls, who have to deal with bad hair days, braces and of course, clever comments which we might be forced to dumb down in order for the guys not to feel threatened by a clever girl.
“You could spend the evening being hit on by those same drunken jocks,” Rachel tells me, giving me a suggestion which, coming from her, sounds very weird. In fact, coming from anyone, it would come off as weird because that is about the last thing I would want to have done to me.
I find this weird because she’s usually the voice of reason. Not only that, but she is also my roommate, my best friend, and pretty much my Jiminy Cricket, who is now telling Pinocchio to actually go out and have fun. What the heck? Has the world gone topsy turvy without me noticing it?
“I think I’ll pass,” I tell her indifferently, shrugging.
She walks up to me, locking her arm with mine. Her long, raven black hair is the first thing that catches everyone’s attention. Then, it’s her striking green eyes. She’s like a wicked fairy from some old, forgotten Andersen fairy tale. Only, she’s not wicked. At least, not all the time and not to me. That’s what counts. Having a best friend who would kick someone’s ass for you and look flawless while doing it.
“I think you need to get laid,” she tells me, matter-of-factly, as if one night of mindless sex will solve all the problems I’ve been having lately.
“If only the solution was that simple,” I pretend to sigh. To be quite honest, I think her suggestion would only make an already complicated situation even more complicated, but I don’t say this out loud.
“You’re the one making it difficult,” she tells me. She might have a point here, but once again, I don’t say it out loud. I don’t want to give her the satisfaction.
“In any case, I really don’t feel like going,” I admit, whining a little, hoping she’ll leave me alone.
She tilts her head to the side and gives me an introspective glance. “You’re not gonna make me play the favor card, are you?”
My eyes widen in disbelief. “Come on,” I frown. “Not for this.”
“No, no, no,” she shakes her head at me, showing me number three with her fingers. “I got three favors. Count them. Three favors which we agreed I can claim at any time, night or day. I’m claiming one now.”
“Seriously?” I blurt out. “For this stupid party?”
“Yes, seriously,” she confirms. “Now, go and get dressed, before I use another favor and make you wear a mini skirt that shows half your ass.”
Luckily, she didn’t make good on that threat, and I end up wearing just a pair of jeans with a cute little, cropped top. When I check myself in the mirror, I have to admit I don’t look half bad. I washed my hair just this morning, so it’s flowing down my back. I consider a ponytail, but eventually, just leave it as it is. A bit of mascara, some gloss and I’m good to go.
When I appear before Rachel, she eyes me top to bottom.
“Tight jeans showing off your butt? OK. Showing some skin there as well? Better than OK. You look good enough to eat, girl,” she winks at me, and I can’t help but chuckle. Somehow, she manages to make even the crappiest days better. It’s a skill, really and not everyone has it. I sure don’t.
We head to the party, and by the time we reach the Omega Lambda frat house, the party is already in full swing. The music is blasting loudly. A small group of guys is chugging beer on the front porch, while girls are cheering them on.
I turn to Rachel, with one raised eyebrow.
“Don’t judge a book by its cover, smartass,” she tells me as she pulls me inside.
“This is not a book,” I murmur. “This is a comic.”
She looks at me, then we both chuckle out loud, as we make our way through the crowd of people who are dancing, talking, kissing and groping each other. We reach the refreshments table, and Rachel grabs us two still unopened cans of beer.
“Just one,” I say, accepting it. “Then, your favor has been paid off.”
“Five drinks or three hours,” she tells me with a shrug.
“Who came up with that rule?” I laugh.
“I did,” she tells me. “Just now.”
“I can’t do either,” I admit.
“Three hours isn’t much,” she says.
“Around these people?”
I turn around. I doubt I know anyone here. And I don’t care to get to know them. I make a disgruntled face, as we head to the other room. The music is even louder there, but Rachel doesn’t seem to mind. She immediately finds an object of interest, in the form of a tall, dark and handsome stranger, who immediately returns her gaze. I know she just wants my permission to leave, so I let her go.
“Are you sure?” she asks.
“I’ll be fine,” I nod. “If you don’t see me, that means I’ve had enough and went home.”
“No,” she shakes her head. “You can’t. Besides, I’m just going to chat him up a bit. He might not be interested in me.”
I chuckle at that. “Has that ever happened?”
She shrugs as she walks backwards, grinning. The moment she starts talking to that guy, I can see he’s already eating out of the palm of her hand. I sigh to myself. She makes it seem so easy. And I’m sure that it is for her. But for girls like me, there’s nothing more difficult. I had that one boyfriend in first year, and everything after that seemed to be a flop.
A new song blasts off and I feel like my ears will start bleeding if I stay here. I glance at Rachel, waiting for her to look back at me. When she does, I mouth the word outside, and point to the door. She nods and gestures a little with her fingers. I nod, giving her a thumbs up, then I head out.
Once again, another flop. Honestly, I don’t know what it is I was even expecting to find here, surely not someone normal you can have a proper conversation with. When I find my way out, I realize that it’s just as crowded on the front porch. The same guys are chugging even more beer. The same girls are cheering them on.
Then, I notice a small passage around the house. I figure maybe there’s less people behind there. Maybe I could take a breather before heading back in and convincing Rachel that there’s no point in staying here.
I walk around the house, noticing several trees and a manicured lawn. And just as I turn around the nearest tree, I notice a guy standing, with his pants down half his butt, as he’s peeing against the tree.
I quickly jump backward, turning around, and frowning.
“Oh, come on!” I shout at him. “Were you born in a barn?”
He doesn’t say anything at first. I hear the sound of the zipper being pulled up, then he takes a few steps.
“All the bathrooms inside were taken,” he tells me.
Immediately upon hearing his voice, I realize I know him from somewhere. Somewhere very private, very personal. Somewhere like my own heart, my own bed.
Of all the people to meet…
I turn around, and there he is. Callum Holland. The reason why the entire first year of college was so wonderful, and every other day after that was such a hell. But not for him. When we met, he was a scrawny thing, and now, he looks like a boulder that got separated from a mountain. I guess that’s not a bad thing at all when you’re the star quarterback. Still, I preferred how he used to be. Not that I’d be given the chance to choose anyway, nor would I want to.
“Elsie,” he recognizes me immediately. At least that. “What…” he starts but doesn’t continue.
“What am I doing here?” I continue his thought. “Honestly, I have no idea myself.”
I can’t take my eyes off him. He looks even better than he did back when we were dating. He was just a scrawny little guy, and now, he’s twice the size he was back then. Even his facial structure changed somehow, giving him a rough edgy look. No wonder all the girls are dying to sleep with him.
“I just went out for some fresh air, only to find you pissing against a tree,” I frown, wanting to make him as uncomfortable as I was feeling now. But one look at him assures me he already feels uncomfortable enough. After all, he was the one being caught with half his butt out.
“I told you,” he repeats. “No– “
“… free toilets,” I cut him off, finishing his thought again. “Got it. Still doesn’t make it nice.”
“How have you been?” He asks, obviously desperate to change the topic.
A part of me wants to tell him the truth. The whole unadulterated truth of how miserable I’ve been, of how I even started to doubt my choice of profession and now I have no freakin’ idea what I am doing here. All those things are on the tip of my tongue, dying to spill. But I manage to keep them subdued.
