“Luna spilled your virgin Bloody Mary, but fortunately, I brought you an extra one,” Enola said matter-of-factly when they arrived on our side of the pool with a drink for Belle and some of the snacks Elsie had made.

  “We mixed in some chewed-up pretzels June was gnawing on to make it extra chunky, in the very rare event that it spilled on Mags.” Luna beamed at Belle. “Crab cake?”

  They all toasted with their drinks.

  Walker motioned to me from across the pool.

  “I don’t suppose you have an extra bathing suit for Mags?” he asked me.

  Greg was carefully helping her out of the pool. A piece of celery was tangled in her thick hair, and chewed-up pretzels coated her chest.

  I couldn’t believe that Greg hadn’t kicked her to the curb, especially after she yelled at his sisters.

  But they weren’t my family. I didn’t really know the Svenssons’ dynamics.

  I hoped someone got the great spillage incident on camera, though.

  51

  WALKER

  “I think Gia has some swimsuits she would let Mags use. Of course, I’ll probably never hear the end of it from her, but if it helps keep the peace,” Ana said.

  “I didn’t bring you down here for a swimsuit,” I told Ana.

  “You didn’t?”

  I hooked two fingers in her bikini bottoms.

  “I hope Greg just takes Mags home.” I picked her up in my arms.

  I kissed her shoulder, smelling her warm skin slightly perfumed by coconut sunscreen.

  She shivered, so I kissed her again, smiling. “Are we alone?”

  “Yeah,” she said, shifting on the couch to put herself next to me.

  I grinned to myself and moved my lips from her neck up to kiss her properly. I loved how she gave into my kisses, how her sweet sighs escaped between her lips.

  My hands found her breasts, and she arched her back, slightly silently pleading with me for even more.

  “What do you want?” I asked, pleased with myself that my tone came out conversational though my dick was already half-hard.

  She sighed sweetly against me. “I want to sit on your face and then again on your cock.”

  Forget sweet. This woman was dirty. Deliciously so.

  I grinned my approval at that. My fingers started working their way to her swimsuit bottom. She shivered again as I reached between her thighs to touch and stroke her pussy. It wasn't the water. I could tell that she was already wet for me. I couldn't wait to have a taste.

  “Well, a gentleman always lets a lady come first.”

  She groaned, half slapping me on the shoulder, but when she pulled back, she was grinning.

  Then, in a surprising show of initiative, she pushed me back so that I was lying down on the couch, my head pillowed by a cushion.

  Lying horizontally like this, she crawled up my body, and I was treated to an eyeful of her bikini bottoms. I couldn't help it. I licked my lips.

  “Come here, hot stuff,” I said, grabbing her ass—and pinching her a little just for the fun of it—and pulling her close.

  I inhaled shakily then pushed the fabric to the side. She braced herself half on the arm and half on the back of the couch, positioning herself right on top of me.

  I knew my role, and I loved it. After pushing the fabric aside, I tilted my head up and just let my tongue play.

  This was Ana's show. And with her leverage, she could increase or decrease the pressure...and her pleasure. She rolled her hips against my lips, moaning, practically fucking herself into my mouth.

  I loved every second of it. My fingers weren't idle as my lips and tongue played with her rapidly tightening clit. I fluttered my index finger in and out of her hole, teasing her and giving her just that little bit more of sensation.

  Ana moaned, and I glanced upward to see her breasts bobbing over me as she bore down, bouncing a little, so close to coming that my own cock ached for her.

  I felt the moment she did, the full-body flutter that I had felt on the inside already. She went wild for a moment, pushing herself down on me, moaning, luxuriating in her orgasm. She was so wild and free. I had to have her.

  I gave her only a moment's rest before I reached for my own pants pocket, thankful that I had packed a condom. When it came to Ana, it was smart to stash condoms everywhere just for convenience’s sake so I could take her anytime I pleased.

  I rolled on the condom. To my surprise, she came back to life, pulling me down to sit next to her. And in the next second, she was scrambling into my lap, her back pressed to my chest in reverse-cowgirl position as she sank down onto me.

  “Fuck me,” she gasped.

  Her wish was my command. I thrust up in her, hearing her shout so loudly she practically screamed. I took her like that, her bouncing up and down on me while I thrust up hard, chasing my own pleasure. My hands came around and played with her breasts. Fuck. She was hot, and I couldn't get enough of her.

  Judging by the way she doggedly chased a second orgasm...she could not get enough of me either.

  I grinned to myself and switched to a new gear, thrusting up in a quick, pulsing way that I knew she loved. “You going to come for me again, Ana?” I murmured, taking the lobe of her ear between my teeth. “I want to feel you around me.”

  Her answer was a shaky groan, but her inner muscles tightened around me.

  I knew that she was close. I was, too, but I held myself back with rigid self-control...self-control that was currently unraveling, but still.

  “Walker,” she said, both a warning and a plea.

  I reached around and, with my free hand, played and rubbed over her clit. She had to be overly sensitive there from her first orgasm, but she moaned again. It was the key to unlocking her second climax. She tensed so hard that her muscles practically clamped onto me as I thrust into her. And then she melted like butter.

  Moaning all the while.

  I closed my eyes and let go, finally, letting the waves of pleasure crash over me.

  I kissed one of her breasts then the other.

  “Now that I have you right where I want you,” she said with a grin, “can I convince you to come be my date at a wedding?”

  “Is there cake?” I asked.

  “Of course there’s cake. It’s a wedding.”

  “You would be surprised,” I said. “I was once at a wedding where there was no cake, only cake-shaped cookies in the gift bags. And Popsicles.”

  “Why?” Ana asked, clearly offended.

  “The bride apparently didn’t like cake.”

  “That’s really upsetting,” she said. “No, this is a high-end wedding. There will be lots of socialites in attendance and their rich fiancés. So if you don’t mind the dick-measuring contest with them all bragging about their investment firms, it shouldn’t be too bad.”

  “Please.” I snorted. “I live for a dick-measuring contest. Mainly because I always win.”

  “And you have a very nice dick,” she said, palming my cock.

  She slid off the couch.

  I admired the curve of her breasts and her hips as she pulled on her bikini.

  She was about to reach for her phone.

  Damn it, I needed her to leave it here so I could get Grunge’s number.

  I grabbed Ana’s ass and pulled her back to me, mouthing her pussy through the skimpy bikini bottoms.

  “I think I’m going to need to make you come one more time,” I said, voice slightly muffled against her.

  She gasped as I pulled down the bikini bottoms.

  Her pussy was still hot, wet, and throbbing from when she’d ridden my cock.

  I bent her over the coffee table. Her ass rocked against me as I licked her pussy, my tongue dipping in her opening then along her wet slit to tease her clit.

  Her gasps were raw as I licked her, teasing her into a frenzy until she came, shuddering against me.

  “God, you’re good at that.”

  “The painter is only as good as his canvas.” I slapped her lightly on the ass. “I’d take you upstairs and fuck you again if my sisters weren’t probably on the lookout for me.”

  “I should probably still go find Mags a swimsuit, though. Just in case she decides to go for round two.” Ana headed upstairs.

  I picked up her phone.

  I’d memorized the password from watching her unlock it once.

  I quickly unlocked the phone and scrolled through her contacts.

  As I was searching for Grunge, a text message came through.

  Grunge: Bram’s phone number is attached. I already told him to expect a text message from you.

  Grunge: Will let you know about the solstice.

  I memorized the number and locked the phone.

  Score.

  I did feel the slightest twinge of guilt, but I stuffed it down.

  It didn’t matter if I got her father’s number through her phone or from hiring a private investigator. Whether or not I talked to him, it wouldn’t affect Ana in any way, shape, or form.

  Stop obsessing about it.

  52

  ANA

  I kind of wished Walker had whisked me off after the pool party. But his sisters had had a lot of sugar and a lot of sun, and I knew he had to take them home. I wasn’t going to be like Mags and get between Walker and his relationship with his sisters.

  I was pacing around the living room, trying to compose a text message to my dad so that I could organize a meeting between him and Belle.

  I finally settled on a short and sweet message asking if he’d like to do brunch the next weekend.

  My phone chimed, but it wasn’t him. It was an email from the magazine asking about the status of the article.

  Crap. I had to give them a draft in two days.

  I didn’t have enough content for an article. Nothing funny or particularly interesting had happened. No one would want to read an article about how I’d been in a pretty good relationship with a billionaire who hadn’t done anything strange or crazy. Shoot, the dinner I’d had with Grunge and my father was probably more interesting article content than the past couple of weeks with Walker.

  “You have to write something,” I told myself.

  After shooing the ferrets off my laptop, I opened it. I had all of five hundred words written, and half of them were I don’t know what to write!

  “Crapola.” I closed the laptop.

  The ferrets yipped and jumped back on top of it.

  I called their ferret mom.

  “Oh my god,” she said drunkenly when she picked up. Reggae music was playing in the background. “I’m, like, not in the country right now. We went to the Bahamas to party.”

  “You need to come pick up your pets,” I told her firmly. “I have other pet-sitting jobs coming up and can’t have the ferrets here.”

  “I’ll Venmo you some more money,” she wheedled.

  “No,” I scolded one of the ferrets when it started chewing on the corner of my laptop.

  “I’m just in the middle of working things out,” she slurred, sounding like she had been pounding back rum and Cokes all day.

  The line went dead.

  I opened the accounting software Elsie had set up with nifty charts and graphs to track my budget.

  Everything was red.

  I looked around my home. Would I have to sell it and move?

  “Don’t give up yet. Maybe Walker will pull a Prince Charming and propose to you.”

  Becky’s wedding was coming up. Maybe I could drop hints at the reception that I’d like to get married one day.

  Oh, who was I kidding? That would be so thirsty he’d dump me right then and there.

  Probably would make a good ending for the article, though.

  The epilogue would be me dying old and alone, surrounded by ferrets.

  My phone beeped.

  Dad: Going out of country.

  Dad: Can meet tomorrow at 10 at the Starbucks at Times Square.

  Well, at least one thing was going my way.

  53

  WALKER

  “How do you want to handle the call?” I asked Greg the next morning. We were in his office at the top of the Svensson Investment tower.

  He tapped his pen on the imported-Italian-leather blotter, the only sign that he was even slightly unsure.

  “Just act casual,” Greg said finally. “Don’t apologize for having his number. Just make it seem like the most natural thing in the universe. That of course you two are equals. Then tell him you wanted him to come in for a quick meeting and see if there was any way we could help him achieve his vision. Tell him that you’ve been talking about him with the firm partners and that they’re interested but want more information.”

  I put the phone on speaker then dialed the number I’d stolen from Ana’s phone.

  Bram picked up. “Who the fuck are you, and why are you calling this number?” he demanded.

  This call was not off to a good start.

  I cleared my throat. “Hi, Bram, it’s—”

  “Are you with the Feds? Huh? Is this the SEC? Fuck you all.”

  Greg pressed two fingers between his eyebrows.

  “No,” I interjected, “this is Walker.”

  “Who the fuck who are you?”

  God, this man is a lunatic.

  “Don’t you know I’m in the middle of a breakthrough? You’re interrupting my concentration. Fuck!”

  “This is Walker Svensson. We met at your house. I’m Anastasia’s boyfriend.”

  “Who?” Bram shouted.

  Geez.

  “Your daughter. Eldest daughter, I’m assuming.”

  “God, her fucking mother. What a cunt. I had to pay her millions. Do I look like I have that kind of cash on hand?”

  “That was actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

  “You want to invest?” He immediately calmed down.

  “Maybe,” I said slowly.

  “I have the best ideas. My company is on the cutting edge. I have to fly out to Beijing tonight. I’ll come by your office this afternoon. We’ll talk.”

  The line went dead.

  “I don’t know if you even need him to come in at this point,” I told Greg. “There’s only one way his stock is going, and that’s down. This guy is unhinged.”

  “Nothing wrong with some due diligence,” Greg said smoothly.

  I couldn’t wait for this deal to be over.

  Quantum Cyber would have an influx of cash, and I would be free to pursue my relationship with Anastasia without worrying about her figuring out I was maybe, a little bit, using her for access to her father.

  It will be over after today.

  You can just carry on like normal.

  Ana would never find out.

  She’s happy. You’re happy. Greg’s happy. Owen’s happy. Everybody wins.

  54

  ANA

  I tried not to fidget as I waited in the Starbucks for my father. I twisted the paper straw wrapped on my ice coffee. The floor was sticky, and my chunky dress boots made a noise whenever I shifted my weight.

  All the tables were taken by people working on their laptops or talking.

  Belle was at one of the tables. We had arranged it so that when my father arrived, I would say, “Oh, I think that person is leaving,” then act surprised when I saw it was Belle.

  Of course, my father was twenty minutes late.

  Anastasia: I don’t think he’s going to show up.

  Anastasia: Sorry.

  Belle: No worries, thank you for doing this anyway.

  Belle: Lunch is on me after this.

  Anastasia: I say we give it fifteen more minutes then bounce.

  The door opened, and my father stormed in. His face looked a little puffy, and he was scowling, his eyes darting around.

  “Are there any media here? Did you see any Feds?” he demanded when he stalked up to me.

  “I hear they’re selling tinfoil hats on aisle five,” I joked awkwardly.

  “Stop joking,” he berated me. “This is serious business. Now, what do you want?”

  He was irritable and annoyed. Business must not be going that great.

  “Maybe we could sit down and talk? I just wanted to catch up.”

  He gave me an annoyed grunt. “There aren’t any tables. I have a meeting to get to before I fly out.”

  “I think that lady is about to leave,” I said, making a beeline for Belle.

  I pretended to be shocked and surprised to recognize her. “Hi! How are you? I didn’t see you there.”

  My father wasn’t buying it. His lip curled. “Did you plan this out?”

  “She’s just a friend,” I said hastily. “I didn’t know she was here.”

  “Oh yeah? Do you work for some stupid dog-pound nonprofit? Are you here to beg me for money?”

  “Hardly,” Belle said. “I work for an investment firm. I was going to give you money.”

  “Bullshit.” Spit flew out of his mouth.

  “It’s not,” I told him, holding up my hand placatingly. “They have a lot of properties under management.”

  My dad’s nostrils flared, but he didn’t say anything.

  I plowed on. “Since you just said business isn’t going that well, maybe you could just hear her out. If you haven’t been sleeping, things must be pretty bad.”

  “Oh no,” Belle said, “I’m sorry to hear that. I’ve been in contact with some of your VPs. We invest in—”

  “I don’t want some girl investing in my company,” my father snarled, his fists clenched beside him. “I can’t believe you’d betray me like that, Anastasia, after everything I’ve done for you.” He stormed out, almost knocking over the cup of coffee at another lady’s table.

  I slumped down at the table across from Belle. “Sorry. He’s an asshole.”

  “Yeah. No kidding.”

  “Guess you’re not buying part of his company.”

  “No,” Belle said with a scowl, “guess not. We’ll have to pivot.”

 

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