The Billionaire's Payment(8)

By: Alexis Moore



He secretly laughed at their efforts to thaw his frozen heart.

No woman was strong enough to break through the thick layers of ice, he’d thought.

Then Shakira walked through the door and he felt the drip as it started to melt.





Chapter Four





I don’t know what just happened. One minute Jared was sucking hard on my right nipple and tugging the left with his fingers. Now he was looking at me as though I had two heads. It was probably a good thing that he stopped playing with my nipples because it felt like there was a string or some kind of nerve running from my nipples to between my legs. Every time he pulled I felt myself getting wetter and wetter. I was beginning to get worried that I would wet his sheets and they looked expensive.

Should I have lied and said I touched myself?

“Let’s have a shower together.” He got off the bed and reached out a hand to me.

“But I—”

Oh God, did I have a smell? I’d made sure that I’d had a bath less than an hour before I left the house. And had sneakily used my mother’s Chanel No5 as she hadn’t been in the house.

“You smell gorgeous.” Jared came closer and placed a kiss on my neck. “But I want to smell and taste the real you.”

“Oh.” Relieved I gave him my hand and let him pull me to my feet.

His bathroom was like something out of a Hollywood movie with a large, sunken bath that could probably hold six people and a double shower unit.

“The steam room, sauna and Jacuzzi are through there.” He pointed to the door on the left. “We’ll try out them tomorrow,” he promised.

A Jacuzzi! My grandparents had had a beautiful Jacuzzi in their Hampstead home and I used to spend hours in it. Heaven!

“I just need to trim you.”

“No!” I held my head and backed away from him. My mother had convinced me to cut it à la Audrey Hepburn for my eighteenth birthday, but it hadn’t suited me. My grandmother had sworn that my mother had done it out of spite because my hair was longer than hers at the time, but I’m not sure if that was true. I had been trying to grow it back ever since. It was now midway down my back.

“Not the hair on your head, sweetie.” Jared laughed as he grasped my waist and placed me on the cool marble surface next to the wash basin. He pushed me gently backwards until I was resting on my elbows.

“Oh.” I felt my face redden as he placed my feet up on the edge and exposed me to his gaze.

“I love this.” He entwined his fingers in my curls. “But we can both get serious cuts if we’re not careful. I’m going to trim the area between your legs and leave the top as it is.”

I hadn’t ever trimmed my hair or shaved. My mother wasn’t the kind you asked those sorts of question. But even if she was, my father hadn’t told her about me spending time with Jared. She thought that I had finally kicked my depression and was off to spend the week with a friend from college. She hadn’t even asked which one.

I gazed around the bathroom as he took out a pair of slightly-curved and very sharp scissors and got to work. The grey bathroom fittings were the exact shade as in the grey and white marble. It was a very masculine bathroom, but I liked it.

“Now, let’s have that shower.” Jared placed the scissors next to the sink and reached into the cabinet for a body polisher and two clear plastic bottles: one filled with conditioning shampoo and the other shower gel.

“Shouldn’t I clean that up?” I asked as he started towards the shower, leaving the mess.

“Ambrose will take care of it,” he said dismissively and pulled me along.

“Won’t he know it’s pubic—?” The hairs were jet black instead of the dark brown on my head. My face burned at the thought of the man brushing them up, knowing where they had come from.

“It’s none of his concern.” Jared’s cold authoritative voice sent a shiver through me. I’d almost forgotten who he was.

He stepped out of his boxers and I couldn’t help the gasp of surprise that escaped me. His penis wasn’t erect and it wasn’t long, but I doubted that I could get the fingers of one hand closed around it.

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