Billionaire Season: The Long Hot Summer Page 2

  Chapter Two

  “Cool house, amazing actually,” Allie said, her senses overwhelmed as William ushered her into the vast residence he described as modest. “When was it built? We have these great historic buildings in northern California, especially in Monterey and Carmel, but this house is breathtaking.” You’re breathtaking. Allie wanted to say, he had grabbed one of his jackets from the hall tree and draped it over her shoulders, peering down at her with his unreadable intensely dark gaze. Then he lingered close to her for a moment as if he were about to say something or maybe he was just sizing her up. The jacket smelled of him, spicy and seductive, and something deep, deep inside her clinched deliciously and sent a shot of adrenaline coursing through her bloodstream.

  “The original house was built in 1734, it survived the Great New Orleans fire of 1788 that wiped out most of the Quarter, but it was burnt to its foundation in a subsequent fire in 1795. The present structure was rebuilt the following year and it’s weathered every hurricane and natural disaster since. My grandfather acquired this townhouse as a residence for my father when he was a student at Tulane University, and I suppose he considered it a sound investment as well, which it certainly proved to be. Miss Hawkins must be here somewhere, she’ll get you situated, I have plans for the evening.” He said, his tone changing in an instant from cordial to business like as he peeled off his jacket and tie and dumped them and his wet shoes in a pile at the foot of the stairs. “Hawkins!” he called out and a young woman scurried into the foyer and explained that it was Miss Hawkins day off. It was Monday and the entire staff had the day off, she went on, and she alone had remained in the house because the rainstorm had frightened her and she was watching a new and exciting episode of The Bachelorette.

  “Fine, Ginny, fine. Go back to what you were doing, I’ll deal with this myself. This is Alaina, she’ll be here for the night,” he said and Ginny blushed and covered her mouth to stifle a fit of giggles. “She’s not here with me, she’s a family friend. Just… if she needs anything make yourself useful, Ginny. Never mind, forget it, don’t let us disturb your TV viewing.”

  “I should go to a hotel, this is way too much trouble. Honestly, I can afford it and you have plans. I’m dying to get out and walk around the French Quarter and here I am right in the middle of it. Please, William, don’t let me take you away from your everyday life and your plans,” she said, dragging her fingers through her damp scruffy hair.

  His heart seized for a split second at the sound of his name on her pouty lips. It sounded so sweet and pure, free from the burdens usually heaped on it when his father or his business colleagues or the women who waltzed in and out of his life called him William. It was startling really, the pretty way she said it, even when he was a boy and his mother was alive she had spat out his name as if it burned her tongue.

  “No. I can’t allow you to wander these streets, the sun’s going down and you’re a beautiful young woman all alone. Safety’s an issue in the French Quarter these days, Alaina, things have changed since Hurricane Katrina. There are undesirable elements…” He picked up her duffle bag and scaled the gracefully curved staircase two steps at a time. He glanced back at her as they reached the third floor landing and she looked exasperated. Her bottom lip was full and pink and it was all he could do to keep from running his tongue across it as she stood there pouting. She probably wasn’t really pouting but that damned luscious mouth certainly was begging for his attention.

  “I’m twenty-two and a college graduate, I think I can do a bit of sight-seeing in New Orleans without getting into trouble. And seriously, I wish you’d call me Allie. Alaina is an old fashioned poetic name my parents saddled me with. I prefer Allie,” she said and she brushed past him when he opened the door to a large bedroom with tall arched French windows and charmingly sloped ceilings.

  “You’re twenty-two?” he asked, leaning back against the door frame as he watched her move gracefully through the room, her delicate fingers skimming the surface of antique chests and tables and the tasseled fringe on the toile de jouy drapes. She crossed to the decadent four-poster bed, sat on the mattress with her hands at her sides and bounced a few times with a blissful smile.

  “Almost, well, I will be in November. This room is like something from a fairytale, a French fairytale, like Beauty and the Beast… This bed is huge, I bet I could get lost in all these whisper-soft linens.” She held a feather bed pillow to her cheek and closed her eyes with thick fringed lashes resting against her cheeks as her voice trailed off. Her eyes fluttered open just as he jerked the shirt-tail from the waistband of his pants and her breath caught in her throat when she glanced down at his enormous erection just before the hem of his shirt covered it from view.

  “November is a long way off, it’s barely June, Miss Darling, you’re most definitely not twenty-two. I’ll let you get situated… make yourself at home. The bathroom is well stocked I’m sure, and it has a steam room and… I don’t know what all, but get comfortable. Get dressed, I meant to say, we’ll go have some dinner. Just wander downstairs when you’re ready, I’ll have a shower and change and then I’ll meet you in the… downstairs… downstairs living room,” he stumbled a bit over the words as she slipped off the bed, crossed the room and stood staring out the gracefully arched window. She didn’t turn to face him but kicked off her rubber boots and began to carelessly weave her damp hair into a single thick braid.

  “It’s almost dark outside and the rain has stopped,” she said. “I’m still on California time, seems like it should be the middle of the day. Just so you know, I graduated in the top two percent of my class at UC Berkley and I did it in only three and a half years. ” She turned to face him, to look right in his eyes and let him know what she had seen, but he’d already gone. The sight of his arousal was imprinted on her brain and picturing it sent that electric jolt of endorphins or adrenaline or lust thundering from the pit of her stomach to the center of her sex. She’d only just met the man and she’d never been gung-ho about sex in the first place and yet here she was, short of breath and tingling and wetter in some places than she had ever been before.

  *

  The rain had moved on and thankfully it had left none of its usual humidity behind. The bright full moon hung above the slate roofs of the tightly clustered townhouses in the Vieux Carre, or French Quarter as it was more commonly called. Allie begged William to walk with her rather than driving to the restaurant and he had put on his stern face at first but eventually he caved. They left his house on St. Louis Avenue and turned onto Bourbon Street with Allie demanding to try one of the infamous NOLA Hurricanes.

  William wanted to tell her no, that the drink contained an ungodly amount of alcohol and she was too young to handle it. He had no right to dictate what this unknown girl drank or ate or did while she was in his city. But he felt responsible now that his father had basically dumped her in his lap and fuck if that image didn’t stir up his libido again. And what the hell was that all about? He had sex with women, a lot of women, but it was simply a physical release and they certainly didn’t cause his cock to react like he was thirteen instead of twenty-eight. She was twenty-one and looked younger, on top of that she seemed completely unaware of how unintentionally sexy she was. She walked beside him touching his arm now and then to stress some point she was making as she spoke and it affected him. She wore a short floaty sundress with the half-moon tops of her small high breasts just visible above the bright fabric. A little white sweater was tied at her waist and she wore flat sandals with leather laces at her ankles. Her toenails were polished bright blue with tiny palm trees and a sunset cleverly painted on them. She was intoxicating in the most simple and wholesome and elemental way.

  William had his choice of women, thanks to his striking good looks and family name and fortune. But he avoided romantic relationships. His parent’s ruinous marriage and combative attitude toward each other coupled with his father’s tiresome insistence on carrying the proverbial torch of undying love f
or Liza had soured him on the idea of love and monogamy. He kept his interaction with women purely social or purely sexual, never combining the two. He attended society functions with young women from suitable families and had sex with anonymous women he met at The Cathedral or happened upon in the course of the day or night. Women whose names he didn’t care to know, which wasn’t an issue since they were drawn to the wild carnal hunger in his eyes and blatant erection outlined in his finely tailored pants. He reached out to the unknown beauties and one or more took it with wildly heated blood and they followed him to barely secluded hallways, alleys, elevators, park benches or any place where their sexual acts might possibly be discovered. That was his need, the risk, the anonymity, the lack of emotion, the excitement of fucking women he would never see again, the possible discovery amidst the undercurrent of danger in the seedier parts of his native city.

  This girl, Alaina Darling, Allie, was not one of those women. He doubted that she’d ever had sex with a stranger or in any position other than missionary. Of course looks could be deceiving, but he’d be willing to bet she was a ‘nice girl’ with one or two boyfriends left behind in her home town and no desire to explore her sexual limits. It was really too bad, he mused, and then he wiped the thought away quickly. She really was a stunning beauty. Her hair proved to be a light shade of honey shot through with darker golden highlights and that wide pouty mouth made him want to lift her lips to his and taste her sweetness. Her body was disarmingly enticing, long and lithe and yet softly curved in all the places where a man’s hands and mouth and cock might take pleasure. She had the hypnotic eyes of a dove, bottomless and soulful, the kind of eyes that promised respite and understanding, but he doubted that she would understand or condone his sexual proclivities.

  “I want a Hurricane in an outrageously tall glass from one of those touristy looking bars,” she laughed at the look of disbelief on William’s face when he explained that there would be fine wine and decent cocktails at the restaurant. And what a face it was, he had shaved his sexy stubble and his hair was slicked back from his shower. He smelled of that clean hot spicy male scent that had planted itself in some primal part of Allie’s brain. It was a smell that made her want to reach up and bury her face in his neck and maybe taste his skin on her tongue and then rest her hands against the firm wall of his chest and move them lower…

  “Alright, Allie Darling, here you go. One obnoxious and probably poisonous Hurricane,” he said, handing her the unsavory drink as the corners of his delectable mouth turned up into a quizzical smile.

  She took it from him with a huge grin and then she stretched up onto her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek, he turned just then and their lips brushed lightly. He had to reach out and steady her as she gasped at the current that passed between them and again his brows knitted in annoyance before he stepped back and stared down at her.

  “Thanks for the drink,” she said and it was barely more than a whisper. They walked a few blocks in silence and then he hailed a cab that whisked them to the Restaurant August on Tchopitoulas Street.

  *

  “Good evening Jacob, any chance you still have a twenty-ten Screaming Eagle Sauvignon Blanc?” William handed the wine list back to the sommelier without having opened it as soon as they were seated in a quiet corner of the restaurant.

  “Yes sir, we have a single bottle reserved especially for you. This must be a special evening, would you care for oysters on the half shell with that, Mr. Warfield? They’ve just arrived, and they are indeed exceptional this evening.” William could see that Jacob was trying not to stare openly at the lovely Miss Darling and her small but fascinating cleavage but it was no use, he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

  “We’ll start with a dozen, thank you,” William said taking note of the slight wrinkling of Allie’s nose as if she’d smelled something unpleasant. “Let me see, Alaina, are you displeased because I disposed of your ridiculously gaudy street-vendor cocktail or do you have a distaste for fine wine?”

  “Oysters, I don’t want to look at them much less put one in my mouth,” she said and he had to hold his long fingers to his lips to keep from smiling.

  “I see, well, you’re in the Big Easy now. It’s sacrilege to refuse to eat a plump fresh oyster, but I suppose if you have trouble putting certain distasteful delicacies in your mouth, then I wouldn’t want to force you.”

  Her eyes widened and her cheeks burned scarlet as her pretty mouth dropped open and she uttered just one word, “Oh!”

  “I think you should try it at least once, eating oysters, that is. The chef here at Restaurant August has access to the most proprietary oyster beds along the Gulf coast. They’re smooth and creamy with the most delicate flavor, it’s like taking a bit of cool ambrosia onto your tongue and swallowing.”

  “Ambrosia?” she asked, as Jacob returned and poured the cold white wine and waited until William tasted it and nodded his head.

  “Ambrosia, the food of the gods,” William said, smiling slightly as she sipped the cold wine and a look of satisfaction settled over her delicate features. “I assume you approve of the wine?”

  “It’s remarkable, it sort of evaporates in my mouth but I can still taste the distinct flavors. Yes, I like it very much, and I don’t usually care for wine, you know, it’s kind of sour mostly, but this is seriously delicious,” she said, finishing off her glass in a few gulps so that Jacob was there in an instant to refill it.

  I’ll bet you’re seriously delicious and I intend to taste every part of you. William had to literally shake the thought from his head, what the fuck? He was not interested in girls who were starry-eyed and barely out of college; it was like the old cliché of letting the small head think for the big head. In this case his cock was fucking dictating, (interesting word, “dick-tating”) nonstop images of Allie naked and in an interesting array of positions.

  “Tell me about this internship that’s brought you to New Orleans, I’m interested.” He said, although he didn’t know why it mattered. Tomorrow she would be his father’s guest for the rest of the summer and other than Tanya, who was the closest thing he had to a best friend, he didn’t ask women about their private lives.

  “I’m here to work for the Southern Gothic Literary Society. I just got my bachelor of arts in American Literature from UC Berkley. In the fall I’ll either go back to Berkley or maybe to Tulane to start on my master’s degree. I’ve been accepted to both schools to do my post-grad work, I’ll have to make that choice before the end of summer. Berkley is my home but it would be conducive to my field of study to be immersed in the culture that influenced so many extraordinary American authors. So, to answer your question, I’m going to be delving into musty files containing notes and secrets about the lives of Southern writers. I could do my graduate thesis on Faulkner or Tennessee Williams, but most likely I’ll choose a female author, either Carson McCullers or Eudora Welty.

  A server sat a pewter tray on the damask covered table and it was laden with oysters in their shells nestled into a bed of crushed ice with a sauce that smelled of fresh horseradish and limes.

  “How do I do this, can I just swallow it whole? I don’t think I want to bite into it,” Allie said, holding the oyster on a little three-pronged fork and waiting expectantly for William’s instructions as if he knew the answer to every question in the universe.

  “Like this,” he said, scooting his chair half way round the table so that he sat next to her. “Squeeze the lime over it, dip it in sauce, savor it on your tongue for a moment, chew and then swallow. If you swallow it without really tasting it then all the locals will say you’re an amateur.” They laughed easily as the wine loosened their inhibitions and he wrapped his fingers around hers to guide her hand and stared into her eyes as she tasted the briny mollusk. They both felt the energy crackle in the space between them as they touched and she closed her eyes and swallowed and then smiled.

  “It’s interesting, unlike anything I’ve ever tried before. I like it,�
�� she smiled and it was a smile that made her eyes sparkle and lit up her face.

  William cleared his throat and moved his chair back to its original spot far across the table from Allie. The simplest look or gesture or word from this girl set his blood on fire, it was an experience he’d never known until now and it left him completely off balance. He needed sex… hard, merciless, uninvolved sex and he needed it soon. He intended to have dinner with Alaina, drop her off at his house and then go to The Cathedral. He didn’t need to let his wayward cock have what it was suddenly craving. He absolutely did not need to lead Alaina Darling down the garden path or any other place where he would be forced to push up her flimsy dress and jerk her panties aside and let his fingers bring her to the brink of…

  “Aren’t you going to indulge? I mean you were so insistent, you’re not going to let me go it alone are you? Because I’d hate to finish them off all by myself, come on and join me William, have an oyster.”

  A few drops of wine glinted on her bottom lip and he reached out and brushed them away with his thumb. It sent a shiver of white-hot desire straight to her core. She had the urge to stop his hand before he could take it away, to pop his thumb into her mouth and find out if he tasted as heady and sensual as the oysters. She had the distinct feeling that he would taste like sex and not just the “I guess bad sex is better than no sex” kind she’d was used to. He had already stoked a fire in her belly and in the tender secret depths that her dull but endearing college boyfriend never had.