I’m standing in a supermarket line when he calls me. Actually, to be more accurate, I’m standing in the line at the customer service desk, ready to ask about a job.

Not that there’s anything wrong with working at the supermarket, but it’s not the same as being a programmer. It’s not what I want to be doing, and this isn’t exactly a nice supermarket.

I don’t know why I pick up.

Maybe it’s because I’m missing him. Maybe it’s something else. Maybe I’m just crazy.

He is, after all, the douchebag billionaire.

But this time, when he talks, there’s something different in his voice. Something different in the quality. He says he wants to talk about something. He says he wants to tell me something. And I know from the way he says it that it’s not about work. I can’t explain it, but I just know.

I take one more look at the supermarket around me, and realize that while I really don’t want to work here until I find a programming job, I must be crazy for walking out of here right now because I apparently “know” that Ryan wants to tell me… something, instead of just jamming his cock into me.

About an hour later, I’m at his house.

I really can’t afford taxis or Ubers anymore, so it’s public transit for me, with the crowds and strange smells. Not that I have anything against it, in general, but you know when you’re sitting next to someone who’s just gotten off a long shift of manual labor?

Yeah, walking down the street with the fancy houses towards Ryan’s place… it’s a breath of fresh air. I hope seeing him is going to be too. Not that I don’t want to make another bad decision and just jump his bones… but I can’t. I need something else from him. I just don’t know if he can really give it to me.

I stand on the fancy front porch with the pillars and stare at the door for a moment.

Should I really be doing this?

What would Hailey tell me to do? Not that I’m talking to Hailey anymore.

What would my mom say to do? The mother I know would tell me to come home and work at the furniture store. But the mother I just spoke to most recently would tell me to… follow my dreams? Those are her words, not mine.

Well, let’s hope this dream pays off. Let’s hope I’m not doing something incredibly stupid… again.

Before I can ring the doorbell, the front door flies open.

It’s Ryan, looking as hot as ever, with his broad shoulders, his perfect model-like jaw line.

He’s wearing just some old jeans and a t-shirt, showing off his tattoos, as well as his incredible arms.

His hair is a little disheveled, and he looks tired but also excited at the same time.

Looking at him again, so many emotions come up: anger, excitement, attraction. All the big ones, wrapped together in a confusing package.

I don’t know what to say. I don’t have the slightest idea, so I say something basic and stupid instead of something real. “How did you know I was here? I haven’t even rung the doorbell yet.”

“Intercom system and cameras,” says Ryan, pointing to the camera up in the corner of the porch roof.

“Oh,” I say.

“Come in,” says Ryan, holding the door open for me.

I had better not be doing something stupid again, I think to myself, before walking past him into the house.

I’m so nervous that I find myself holding my breath as I do so, as if that would somehow protect me.

I have to squeeze past him to get into the house, since he’s not holding the door open that wide. My body brushes up against his, and it sends a thrill through me.

We walk into the living room. The sun is shining brightly all through the house, lighting everything up inside here. Once again, I’m struck by the luxury of the house, the decorations.

We sit down on the couch, side by side, but with plenty of space between us.

“So what did you want to talk to me about?” I say.

I’m practically holding my breath, waiting for an answer.

His demeanor is a little different… he’s still rocking his commanding presence as always. He’s obviously the boss of just about everything and anyone, whether or not they’re working for him. I’m not going to call it a softness, but there’s something else there.

“I wanted to talk to you,” says Ryan, turning his body to look me right in the eyes. “I… I don’t know where to start, but, well, I just wanted to tell you a story.”

“A story?”

I guess I was thinking he was going to admit his love for me… this isn’t exactly what I was expecting. But he’s talking differently than he usually does—I’m not growing angry.

“My mother raised me,” he says. “My dad ran off… It was just me and her. That’s how I got started in computers, you see…”

The story comes tumbling out of him. He tells me all about his childhood with his mother, and how if it wasn’t for her, he wouldn’t have known anything about computers whatsoever. He tells me how close he and his mom were, how she made dinner for him every night, despite being dead tired from her job as a secretary. And he tells me how she took classes along with her job and still managed to raise him.

There aren’t any tears in his eyes, but I can see the sadness in his face as he tells me how his mom started getting sick, and about how he finally found a doctor who was able to diagnose her, only to find out that she was going to die very, very soon from terminal lung cancer.

“I’m so sorry to hear that,” I say. There may be no tears in his eyes, but there are some in mine. The way he tells the story is just heartbreaking. I’ve never had anyone open up like this to me ever, and the douchebag billionaire is certainly the last person that I would ever expect to talk like this.

He tells me more, about how he locked away all these feelings for so long, and about how it wasn’t until today that he opened the box that contained the pictures of his mother… feelings that he’d been trying to lock away for so long came rushing back… he’s glad he did so.

“And I wanted to tell you all this,” he says. “Because… well, I realized I’ve been locking away all sorts of emotions… not just those about my family history…”

His words come out in spurts, but he’s still not awkward and he’s never stumbling over his words.

“Thanks for telling me,” I say.

“And this has a lot to do with you.”

“With me? What do you mean?” I know what he’s going to say, I think, but I have to ask anyway.

“I feel something different for you… Something intense, and I didn’t want to admit it.”

I pause for a moment. A thousand thoughts are buzzing in my mind, with a thousand possible things to say. In the end, I let my instincts guide me, and tell him what I feel. “I feel the same way about you,” I say, my voice soft. “You hurt me… I thought there was something between us, but then you treated me like any one of your other girls.”

“There aren’t any other girls. You’re different from anyone I’ve ever been with… and I feel something for you… I think I…”

I hold my breath, but he doesn’t say it.

“Let’s give it another chance,” he says.

I don’t say anything. For a response, I lean across the wide gap between us and kiss him softly on the mouth, letting my lips fall against his like rose petals.

He kisses me back, softly, but not so gently.

“Let’s take it slow this time,” he says.

“OK,” I say.

We continue kissing, and his strong hands work their way across my back and down my shoulders. He pushes my hair aside and kisses my neck gently.

I moan softly.

“I don’t know if I can take it slow with you,” I say, my voice soft and throaty, filled with lust.

Just being near him again, having his hands on me, it’s incredible.

This time may not be slow, but it’s different than the other times we’ve had sex. I can already tell this isn’t just fucking. There’s more than lust here, something else, something powerful between us that pulses through our bodies.

I feel his hard cock in his pants, pushing outward and upward.

“We’ll go to the bedroom,” he says. “No more closets and couches for you.”

“None?” I say, inflecting my voice. “But I liked the closet.”

“I know you did.”

He picks me up in his arms easily and carries me against his dense chest. He carries me through the house, up the stairs, and lays me gently on the plush mattress.

It’s almost dusk outside. We’ve been talking for hours without me realizing it. Ryan closes the blinds gently, and comes to lay beside me on the bed, putting one of his strong hands on me.

I snuggle up to him, and his hard cock presses against me.

“I love having your cock pressed into me,” I whisper.

Slowly, I start grinding my body against him and his cock. I can’t help it. I do it almost automatically.

The tension builds and builds between us, and finally it snaps like a twig. There’s simply too much attraction between us to take it slow.

His mouth mashes against mine, our tongues tangling. His hands are all over me, and mine are on him.

I push my way on top of him, laying my body flat on his. His cock pushes right into the space between my legs.

We go through the clumsy business of removing our clothes, only it’s not clumsy at all. Instead, it feels romantic and special. With me straddling him now, he reaches down and removes my shirt from my torso, and he unhooks my bra from behind, letting it fall away.

He leans up and sucks on my nipples, which are hard little daggers pointing right into his mouth.

I unbuckle his belt, undoing his pants, and move aside and off of him so that I can tug them down.

Soon, our clothes are on a pile on the floor, and I straddle him once again.

A condom appears nearly out of nowhere, and I help him put in on his big cock, letting my hand stay there, pushing my palm into the base of his cock.

When I remove my hand, there’s an instant where I’m about to slide myself down onto his cock, taking him into me.

He pulls me down with his hands on his shoulders and kisses me, gently this time, but passionately.

“I love you,” he says.

I can see it in his eyes that he means it. This isn’t just some line. My heart fills with the most intense joy I’ve ever experienced.

“I love you too,” I say.

I slide myself down onto his cock and it enters me. I love being able to control the speed, and I start out thinking I’m going to ride him slowly. I actually do for a little while, long slow rocking motions, rocking back and forth along his muscular body.

But soon, the tension builds, and I simply want him too much.

With my eyes locked onto his, I start riding him faster and faster, until I’m panting with exertion.

His cock feels so fucking good inside me. I don’t ever want it to leave. My hands are planted on his chest, palms downward.

He growls as he winks at me and basically just picks me up and flips me over, getting on top of me quickly, without his cock ever leaving me.

I start moaning as soon as he’s on top of me. He doesn’t break the rhythm at all. He’s riding me hard and fast, with his eyes still locked onto mine.

His hands hold my head around the side, cupping me like I’m the most precious thing in the world to him. It’s sweet and also ragingly hot at the same time.

This is just as hot as when we fucked in the closet, but it’s different… it’s impossible to explain, but there’s emotion now. That doesn’t make it any less hot, less naughty, or less intense. It makes it more intense.

The orgasm rushes through me and I cry out as he keeps riding me.

He comes a moment later, his cock twitching inside me, frozen, buried deep.

We stay like this for a full minute before disengaging. We’re both panting, and he’s still looking into my eyes, brushing the hair out of my eyes.

“Wow,” I say, finally getting the strength to talk again.

“Wow is right,” he says.

“So this is where you run off again, right?”

He laughs, a deep chuckle coming from his chest.

“Not this time,” he says. “You’re staying right here with me.” He pulls me close to him. He’s on his back, and I nestle my head into the crook of his arm. His muscular arm drapes up and around me, holding me close to him.

We fall asleep like this, drifting off into the night, into dreams that are as sweet as what’s developing between us.

“I love you,” I tell him, right before finally closing my eyes.

“I love you too, Lily,” he says.