“We need to talk.” Croix steps into my office after lunch.
My heart sinks. Nothing good ever came after the words we need to talk. The fact that he closed the door so that Bruno can't hear us only makes me dread this conversation more.
“We don't need to talk.” I hold my hand up to him. If I can squash the awkwardness now by admitting that we made a mistake, it will be better for the both of us.
“Yes, we do.” He sits across from me, occupying the same chair that Raj did earlier.
“If this is about what happened on Saturday, I realize we were both drunk, and I realize it can't happen again.” I feel hollow as I say what I know he needs to hear.
He quirks his head back. “Do you really think that what happened between us on Saturday happened because we were drunk?”
“Didn't it?” I raise an eyebrow.
“Wow.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I must have misread you completely.”
My mouth falls open. Is he saying that the sex was actually planned?
He stands, his expression a mix of confusion and something I can't quite place. “I'm sorry, Raven.” He turns to leave.
“Croix, wait.” I'm on my feet in an instant, my hand reaching out to him even though he's too far away to grasp.
“What?” He casts a glance over his shoulder.
“What did you think was going on between us?” I ask timidly.
“It doesn't matter anymore.” He shakes his head, continuing towards the door.
“Stop. Please.” I practically jog around my desk to get to him.
When he turns to look at me, there's a darkness in his gaze. It's not lust but something close. Something needier.
He takes a step towards me, and I hold my ground. His eyes scan over my face, searching. Again I feel the desperate desire for him to kiss me. The sexual tension between us is definitely there.
“I want more of you,” he tells me. The confidence in his tone is so thick that it makes my body thrum.
Even if I wanted to, I can't deny the truth. “I want more of you too.”
***
This is nothing like Saturday night. There's no alcohol to make me brazen and reckless. I'm acutely aware of the significance of what we're about to do—of the words that he spoke to me in my office earlier.
Blessedly, there was a delivery of furniture today. After our little talk, Croix spent a good part of the afternoon micromanaging the interior designer as she went about her job placing the furniture in the guest suites. Once everyone else left for the evening, he suggested that we stay behind and break some of the new furniture in. I was totally on board with that idea.
We're in one of the guest suites. I'm sitting on the bed, getting a taste of what The Billionaires Club is all about as I watch Croix undress one button at a time. I can definitely see why women would pay for this. He's beyond sexy. Just watching him already has my panties wet and my engines revving.
I hike up my skirt and rub my clit over my underwear, proving to him that two can play the teasing game. His calm demeanor immediately falters, and his hands work more quickly to get his clothes off.
“Holy fuck, Raven. You're so damn hot. Look what you do to me.” He grabs my free hand and places it over his boxer briefs. I can see the perfect outline of his cock. It pulses beneath the weight of my palm.
“I'd like to do a lot more to you,” I purr.
“My body is at your command.”
“Is that so?” I peel down his underwear as if unwrapping a package. His dick springs out to greet me, and I trail the pad of my index finger across the velvety skin on the underside. He hisses in approval, tilting his head back.
“That's so,” his deep voice is practically a whisper.
I wrap my hand around the base of his shaft and practically pull him to me by it. My tongue flicks out over his wide helmet. There's a bead of pre-seed forming on his slit, and I quickly kiss it away, tasting his saltiness.
He slips his hand into my hair, brushing it away from my face. Today, I'm all natural, my curls tangling in his fingers.
I open my mouth to accommodate his girth, taking him to the back of my throat. Usually, I'd spend some time teasing him, but I want him too badly for that right now—want him penetrating some part of me. He's the flavor of masculine heaven. I close my eyes and moan as I bob on him, pleasuring him with my lips and tongue. The small noises he makes are a gift that spur me to suck harder.
He grabs me by the shoulders and pushes me down onto the bed. My mouth leaves him with a crude popping sound. His actions take my breath away.
He eyes me like a predator. The mood has changed—has shifted to something more intense. My breath hitches as he roughly grabs the waistband of my panties and pulls them down my thighs. There's a distinct ripping sound. It doesn't make him give pause. Instead, he becomes more aggressive. Rather than pull my underwear off the rest of the way, he uses both hands to shred them, discarding the pieces over the side of the bed.
“Well, aren't you being a naughty boy?” I grin.
“I can't wait to fuck your cunt. Your panties were in my way, so I got rid of them. I'd destroy anything that tried to keep me from fucking you right now.”
His words are like an aphrodisiac, elevating my desire for him. I spread my thighs when he pushes his body between them. There are no thoughts of resisting him. I want him inside of me just as badly as he wants to be there.
“I'm going to fuck you so hard that you'll feel me inside of you all week,” he tells me before kissing my shoulder, his body hovering over mine.
I still feel him inside of me from Saturday night. It's a delicious soreness that I've savored. The fact that he's going to be adding to it, extending it, turns me on even more.
I drag my nails across the nape of his neck, my hand settling there while he reaches to angle his cock towards my opening. His tongue circles my ear, and he nibbles on the lobe before I feel his hips pressing forward.
“Tell me how badly you want it?” He stalls, nudging just the helmet inside.
“I want everything you have to offer.” I writhe, trying to take more of him in.
“Everything?” He smirks against my cheek.
“Everything,” I parrot in a voice full of desperation.
“I don't think you can handle everything I have to offer.”
“Maybe not, but I'm certainly going to try.”
***
In the short time since I've been working at The Billionaires Club, the picketers have doubled. Even worse, when I show up to work the next day, there's a reporter with them. While the picketers are smart enough not to approach me when I pull into the parking lot, the reporter is not. As soon as I step out of my car, she's on me with a camera crew.
“Are you Raven Tarley?” she asks. The microphone is ready at her lips, though the uncertain question makes me think they might not be recording yet. Or maybe they are and will just edit the film later.
“I am.” I give her a wary look.
“Hi, Raven. I'm Austin Villarreal. We're doing a story about what the opening of The Billionaires Club will mean for the local community. Could you spare a few minutes of your time to talk about it?”
I glance at the glass doors of the building, wishing that Croix would come out and rescue me. This feels like an opportunity to cast The Billionaires Club in a good light, but I'm really not sure if I should say anything at all.
“I'm sorry, but I'm not the person you want to speak to.” I keep walking, trying to ignore them.
They follow me relentlessly, making me feel like a criminal. For some reason, despite the fact that I didn't agree to an interview, Austin decides to ask me questions anyway.
“Many believe that The Billionaires Club will be a stain on the community. A lot of local organizations are protesting it. How are you planning to get past that?”
“I'm sure that The Billionaires Club will be donating more money to charity than all of those organizations combined. If they have an issue with The Billionaires Club, then maybe they should take it up with the charities who support us. Or better yet, start donating money to them instead of spending it lobbying against us.”
Croix appears just as I reach the door. He looks angry, opening the door for me to come inside and then blocking the entrance with his imposing frame.
“No more questions,” he says firmly. “The Billionaires Club has nothing to say to the media right now, and we would appreciate it if you don't harass our employees.” He closes the door and locks it behind us before placing his hand on the small of my back to quickly lead me away. “Vultures,” he mutters under his breath. “They'll stand there until they don't see us anymore.”
“They're looking for a story. That's their job.” I'm annoyed, but I understand the reporter's situation. They need a scoop, and right now we're it.
“Did you say anything to her?” He glances at me as we walk.
“Nothing that I shouldn't have.”
“Good. We shouldn't have to defend ourselves.” He smooths down the front of his suit as we enter the elevator.
“The picketers have grown in numbers,” I comment.
“The numbers will diminish after we open. It always happens that way. They're nothing to worry about.”
“If you say so,” I sigh, hoping he's right. There will still be a while before we open. I'm beginning to worry that one day I'm going to show up at work and find an army at our gates.