In the Billionaire's Lair

Chapter Nine

ANNA



I THINK I impressed him.

That wasn’t what I had meant to do, I swear. What the hell is wrong with him? Why wasn’t he acting like other men?

I wanted him to get scared as I whipped the car into every space I could get it squeezed into on the busy road. People were rushing home after dining out or after an overtime at work so there was traffic, but the car sneaked its way between vehicles and even had other drivers rattled several times when it looked like we was going to smash into them or slam at something. Instead of getting rattled himself, he slid his window down to grin proudly at an angry man behind the wheel of a truck who was honking crazily and sending them the finger.

Son of a b***h.

Him, not the truck driver whom I might have given a heart attack. Sorry.

Then he complained when I slowed down as we neared my house, asked me if I wanted to do another round. No. too much already. I sighed like a woebegone child once I parked in front of my front door.

“What’s the rush? Let’s do this again!”

I was looking resolutely at the front of the car – gosh, I enjoyed that, too! – before I turned to him. “You aren’t even worried about your car getting scratched?”

He shook his head. “As soon as you took that first turn, I knew you are good. I wasn’t even watching the road. I was watching you.”

“Me?” I frowned. “Why me?”

“When you were holding the wheel, you changed. Your eyes became very focused, and the whole expression on your face was fascinating. I could almost hear the turning of the wheels inside your head. I felt like I was in the presence of a master.”

I tsk-ed. But a glow that was warm and pleasant spread through me. I shot that down in the next moment. He’s just fooling around.

So, he wasn’t like other men when it comes to his baby. What’s next?

“You have coffee?”

“You already had coffee in the restaurant,” I countered.

“There’s nothing wrong with another cup.”

“I only have ordinary coffee, Alanzo.”

He grinned. “That’s even better.”

“Better?”

“That you didn’t say you didn’t have coffee.”

I opened my mouth, then closed it again. The nerve! But that warm feeling continued to spread very fast, had even overflowed the wall I used to stop it. What the hell was wrong with me? “What the hell is wrong with you?”

His grin was instantly replaced by a naïve, confused look. “It’s just coffee.”

I closed my eyes. I was getting impatient with myself—no. With him. With him. He’s the problem.

“Shall we have tea, then?”

“You’re not getting inside my house.”

In the next instant, I realized what that statement really meant. You’re not getting inside my house, my bedroom, under my clothes. But my body instantly protested. I shut it down before I could hear what it was complaining about. He was quiet. But, oh no, the silence was deafening. It was very, very loud.

There’s nothing wrong with fixing him a cup of coffee, right?

“It’s fine. I can just bring you to your door.”

He was right. Why wasn’t I leaving the car? Why wasn’t I finishing this so he could go? I pulled the key from the ignition and handed it to him, but I wasn’t really looking. I was awkward and didn’t really want to look, so I missed his hand and did it again. Then I overcompensated. And felt skin.

It was just his hand. He tried to correct the movement but I was doing the same, and we were touching.

The keys fell with a tinkling sound that seemed deafening inside the car but we didn’t move to recover it. I was still going through the sensation. It felt like a jolt of electricity, and it shocked me. I was just so aware of him that my whole body vibrated, my skin humming with the attraction. How could this be happening to me? What was this? I have to fight it.

The thought of having someone like him in my life was life-threatening, I kept reminding myself. I had kept reminding myself of that since I met him and realized how attracted I was to him. When it became apparent he was there in the café for me, I fought it harder because I just couldn’t believe it. How could someone like him have anything he would want from someone like me? He was perfect and I was a wreck. I wouldn’t know what to do with him. I couldn’t even believe the f*ck that someone like him actually existed and would dare venture in my part of the world. No, he did not belong there. He was unreal. I couldn’t believe him. This.

No.

Then he moved. His hand took my hand and interlaced our fingers until their palms were touching, like he did earlier this evening, when I let him. It was slow, like he was trying to be very careful. I gulped as I watched, then gulped at the surge of feelings because of the intimacy. I closed my eyes.

Doomed. I am dooming myself.

Then, again as carefully, he pulled me to him, his body moving to meet me halfway.

“No…” I whispered.

He stopped. “Anna…”

The sound of his voice was so soft and gentle it made me shiver. I knew he felt it. His hand slightly shook as it tightened its hold on mine.

“It’s going to be alright. I promise. I’m never going to hurt you.”

I laughed at that as I opened my eyes. “No self-respecting person will use the word never.”

He took a deep breath, and released it slowly. “Then how about this…? I will give my life first before I let you get hurt. I’ll do anything to make you happy. I’ve been looking for you, and now that I’ve found you, I’ll protect you. I will make everything you’ll ever need and want possible. I swear it on my life.”

I stared at him. Nothing about him shouldn’t shock me anymore. I shouldn’t believe anything he says, as I wouldn’t if he had been any other guy. But why was he so damn convincing? Why was he making this so hard? “You’re creating a fantasy world. No one can protect someone else like that.”

He smiled, and it was so confident it caught the breath at my throat. “Try me.”

I couldn’t truly understand what he was saying, but the look in his eyes were so intense it broke through my resistance. The floodgate was opened and suddenly, all the yearnings in my heart about love and security, about being held in the arms of a strong man who could protect me, and about seeing that look on his face for someone like me leaped out and I was naked and vulnerable. His eyes glittered, and lowered to my lips. His head followed, and I closed my eyes and let him do it like I must.

He kissed me.

Our lips were touching and the buzzing in my ears increased its crescendo. As I opened my own lips to surrender more to him, his arms went around me and he pulled me to him. I melted towards him not just because it felt nice, but because my bones have melted of their own accord. I felt so weak and hot for him.

The kiss deepened and I opened my mouth to his exploration. I wasn’t even surprised that he kissed exactly as I wanted to be kissed. That he responded to the need in mine in exactly the way I wanted to be responded to. I couldn’t believe how perfect it was the first time. I couldn’t believe a man could kiss like he did. I couldn’t believe I was still thinking and observing, waiting for something bad to happen. For the other shoe to drop.

I didn’t know how long it was, I didn’t care. The kiss would be my evidence. I would hate it. It would make me push him away, I’d see. But our hands had begun to explore and I felt his hands on the sides of my neck, on my cheeks, before they slid down to my back to caress and pull me as close as possible in the cramp space of the car. I knew when the kiss became hotter. We were kissing, and it was an alteration in our relationship that was as forceful as his presence in my life. I wasn’t expecting anything more. I wasn’t expecting to push at it more.

I wasn’t expecting anything else but a proof that I was right. But I wasn’t expecting the breathlessness and the palpitation in my chest. Not the sudden craving of my body for more of his lips and hands and heat. I was suddenly curious about how it would feel like to be made love to by him. I was suddenly needing to find out how to be possessed by someone like him.

A powerful man who seemed to know what he wanted even if I didn’t, and would pursue what he wanted even if I didn’t understand his drive. Could I ever understand men like Alanzo? There were so many beautiful women in his life. Why me?

“Why me, Mario?”

“You make me feel, querida…”

No, Alanzo is different. He would move on. But I wanted him. I wanted him enough that what he could give tonight should be enough.

I pushed back and there was a smacking sound as my lips left his. We were both breathing hard. It was very warm in the car.

“Do you still want that coffee?” I asked in my breathless voice, my heart racing so hard. What if he didn’t want what I wanted? What if he refused?

“I want you,” was his hoarse answer.

Oh my God. I think my panties just melted.

I gulped. It was never like this. I never wanted anyone this hard. I never felt like this with Mario, even when he’d tried to be different for me, even though he couldn’t ever escape his life.

My gulp was a sound that was deafening in the car.

Then I replied back. “Let’s go inside.”