Billionaire Brothers 2 : Love Has A Name (32 page)

BOOK: Billionaire Brothers 2 : Love Has A Name
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“Guilty, your honor. What’s my sentence?”

He ground his hips into me so I could feel his good-morning-hardness. “Oh, I could think of numerous penalties.” He ground harder against me and groaned. “But for now, meeting’s adjourned. I’ve gotta go pay homage to the Big Guy. You know, the guy that’s bigger than
this
Big Guy,” he said, as he lifted my right leg to grind his erection deeper against my core one last time before he gave me a swift kiss and rolled off me, snatched his Bible off the nightstand, and vanished through the bedroom doors.

He was going to do devotion with a hard-on?
I mused. I could imagine that being a
very
awkward moment for God.

Fumbling for my cellphone, I made a quick call to Tish, giving her instructions to get the gym open and running. The woman had been more than overworked ever since I started humping Lovello’s third leg. I needed to remember to give her a raise. A huge raise.

As I started for the bathroom, I gained a new knowledge: prolonged lovemaking will leave you far more sore than thirty minutes of jackhammering. Yet, though I was sore, I was starving for more. For two people who’d never made love before, last night was out of this world. The way his tongue had … his lips had … his touch was so … the slowness of it all was … Gah, I just
couldn’t
explain how great it felt. It was a moment I’d never forget, that’s for sure.

Denuding myself in the opulent en suite bathroom, I sluggishly aimed toward the rain-shower, grabbing a washrag from the towel rack on my way there. While I turned the taps and waited for the shower to heat, I noticed my favorite
Balenciaga Paris Shower Gel.
Lovello didn’t buy that for himself, I’m sure. For one, it was for women, and two, he didn’t like shower gels. All he used were those Tom Ford soap bars — and yep, there was a reduced bar right next to the shower gel.

Did he buy that gel for me, or was it someone else’s? It couldn’t possibly be for me when he didn’t even know I’d be coming here. Or did he? Looking around the capacious bathroom, I also noticed a replica of my purple robe on the hooks outside the shower. On one side of the large double-sink vanity, there was an exact purple Oral-B vibrating toothbrush like I had at home, along with the face wash and moisturizer that I used. Lovello had said he didn’t bring women here, so maybe he knew I’d turn up eventually?

On a shrug, I hopped under the amazing rain-shower. Heavens, this felt
good
. I could swing by every day just to use this shower, or maybe I could install my own. Some fifteen minutes had ticked by before I decided to let the shower be and headed to finished freshing up.

When I emerged from the bathroom feeling fresh and revived, I cursed myself for not thinking ahead in bringing an overnight bag. Boxers and T-shirt would have to suffice until I could get home to change for work. Glancing around the man’s vast bedroom, I tried to guess which piece of furniture he stored his boxers in.

I padded towards a chest of drawers and slammed it shut the very second I opened it. Panties? I opened the drawer to double-check and slammed it shut again. Yep, they’re panties. I opened the second drawer. Bras? Yep, they’re bras. Slamming the drawer shut, I began fumbling around for my clothes from last night.

Silly me for thinking that the stuff in the bathroom was bought for me. The man was a notorious liar. He claimed he’d never brought any women here before, but clearly, not only has a woman been here, but — hold that thought. I ran towards the closet and wrenched open the doors. Yep, you can let go of that thought now. Someone
lived
here with him.

Walking into the closet, which more resembled a mini-boutique, I stared in disbelief at the lines of women’s clothing that consumed the entire left side of the closet. Rows of shoes: thigh-highs, sandals and sneakers. Top-brand handbags lined off on the top shelf. And a semicircular vanity in the corner with
MAC
make-up products and various hair accessories.

My skin felt like as if it had been flayed as my heartbeat galloped. Turning to what was his side of the closet, I eyed the rows of color-coordinated suits and shoes. Neatly folded sweaters and jeans. Hats and leather jackets, neatly coiled belts. The typical. Knowing the mess of a man that he was, it was either Rosa or his mystery woman who kept this closet tidy.

I darted back into the bedroom, dragged on my clothes in record time, grabbed my handbag and fled the room. How did I end up being this imbecilic?
Love
had made me idiotic. I’d known and had also been warned that Lovello was not the type of man to fall in love with. Nevertheless, I’d recklessly done just that.

Halfway down the hall, I collided with a hard wall of male. “Whoa, slow down, beauts. What’s the rush? Is the gym on fire?”

Avoiding his eyes, I tried to sidestep him. “No, I just … gotta go.”

But he wouldn’t let me. “Beauts, are you okay?”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. Fearing that I might do that abominable, girl-like thing called ‘crying’. Axia Blacksille didn’t cry. Especially over a man. “Yes, I’m fine. Will you excuse me, please?”

The sigh that he emitted said that he was growing impatient, but I didn’t give a heck. He held my chin firmly between his thumb and forefinger and tilted my face so I could look at him. “
What
. Is. It. Now. Axia?”

“You couldn’t have told me?”

“Tell you
what
, Axia?”

“That you live with someone…”

Lovello’s face frowned in bewilderment. “That I live with someone? What in God’s good name are you talking about? Aren’t you the one here with me?”

Knocking his hand away from my chin, I swung my handbag straight at his face. “Stop treating me like you think I’m a damn imbecile!”
Smack!
“Half your closet is consumed with her stuff!”
Smack!
“Your drawers, your bathroom!”
Smack!
“And you have me right in the center of it, just like another one of your bimbos!”
Smack!
“I am not…”
Smack!
“a brainless bitch!”
Smack!
“I’m a woman!”
Smack! Smack!
“A woman!”

Lovello’s self-control seemed to wane as his anger waxed. He grabbed the swinging handbag from my hand and tossed it down the hallway, causing it to land with a loud clatter as all its contents scattered about. When I started to pound my fists at his chest, he grabbed my hands and shook me so hard that my eyeballs jiggled in their sockets. That made me wide-eyed and inert.

“Yes, Axia. You are a woman. A
crazy
woman who needs to see a goddamn psychiatrist!” he bellowed, his deep voice echoing down the hall and reverberating through the walls. Weals began forming on the side of his face that I’d abused with my handbag.

Lovello swerved me to the side, pinning me against the wall with his hips and restraining my hands by planting them to my sides. “How is it possible for me to live with someone here when I was living at
your
house for almost three weeks? Do you think so little of me to believe that I would have some ‘bimbo’ sleeping in the bed that I share with my woman and using her stuff? That I would give you all the information to the home where I lived with
another
woman? Oh, and where the hell is the woman?”

He had a point. But … “So how do you explain the stuff?”

Lovello sent his eyes heavenward. “Jesus, Axia, are you that dense? They’re
yours.

“Mine? But … how?”

Vibrating with exasperation, he hauled me off toward the bedroom, while using his free hand to feel the weals on his face. “I swear to God, Axia. Sometimes I wonder what the hell I’ve gotten myself into with you. You’re more than a handful.”

“I wonder the same about you, too.
All the time,
“ I whispered in a meek voice. But Lovello only glanced back at me over his shoulder with a cold stare and shook his head.

Pulling me into the closet, he stood on the left side where all the female things were. “Just look and tell me, Axia. Aren’t these all brand new things with tags? Aren’t all these things
your
style of clothing?”

Gliding my eyes over the apparels, I saw the tags that my stupid eyes didn’t let me see earlier. That there were no dresses. Thigh-highs as the only heels — because those were the only heels that I did wear. Loafers that I absolutely loved, sneakers and sandals — all that was
my
style. Well, once again I was left feeling stupid. But how did he know what to get? “Who —”

“My cousin, Lori — with information from your housekeeper about your size and such — arranged this wardrobe for you. Lori’s a lot more shrewd than you think. She detected that you’re not a dress person, so…” Lovello went to the end of a rack, pulled off a brown garment bag and laid it down on a black leather bench situated in the middle of the closet. “
I
picked your dress for the wedding.” He stood back and folded his arms across his chest, waiting for me to take a look.

Murdering the cat with curiosity, I unzipped the garment bag and lifted out a flowing, ivory silk dress which had straps made of rhinestones. I peeked up at my genius and he smirked back at me. Of course, he made a brilliant pick. There were no frills, no twisty fuss, no leg splits, no bows, lace or puffs. Just simple elegance, with the rhinestones being that small touch of fuss. This is how you get a reluctant woman to wear a dress. “You want your pound of flesh, don’t you?”

He chuckled, and I was glad that his anger had subdued. “From you? Hell, yes.”

Placing the dress back in the garment bag, I made a tsk tsk sound. “I would, Mr. Nelson. But I’m afraid you’ve made one tiny error. You see, this dress is ivory, which makes it too close to the bride’s color. I’m pretty sure the bride wants to be the only one in white.”

Lovello laughed as an expression fleeted across his face as if he were remembering something. “Trust me, if it was up to the bride, you’d be wearing a rainbow-colored dress. You should’ve heard the argument Sadie and Natalio had about the color code for their wedding,” he said, shaking his head and laughing as if the argument was one that would never be forgotten. “Of course, my brother won. It’s an all-white wedding, beauts. So stop finding excuses and give me my damn pound of flesh.”

“I will, but not the way you want.” I stepped up to him and threw my hands around his neck. “I want to give you your pound of flesh in a more
physical
way.”

Lovello’s eyes darkened and his lids lowered, but he remained obdurate. “I’m still mad at you, Axia. I can’t believe you’d think —”

“I’m sorry, okay? I was just … I didn’t think you’d buy an entire wardrobe for me and have it here where I don’t even live. Why’d you do this anyway?”

“Because I want you to feel at home when you’re here. I want you to never have to leave here to go home for anything, because you already have everything here. I want to share my space with you.”

“And how did you know I was even gonna use the address?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

His lips quirked. “Call me The Optimist.”

“I’d say you’re too damn sure about yourself.”

“That, too.”

“Can I kidnap you for the day, Pretty Boy?”

He locked me against him and circled his hips. “Maybe for an hour. I have to work and you have a commercial shoot in two hours.”

Mierda. I’d forgotten about that entirely. When Lovello felt my body stiffen, he laughed. “You forgot, didn’t you?”

I groaned. “Yeah. Maybe if your brother wasn’t so damn bossy about it…”

“That’s Natalio for ya. I’m surprised he even called you and not just show up at your doorstep demanding you come with him.”

My head fell back as a laugh bubbled its way up my throat and through my mouth. “That’s exactly what I said to him! Asked him why’d he even bothered to call me and not just show up at my doorstep.”

Lovello chortled as he nosed my hair, then breathed a heavy sigh. “Axia?”

“Hmm?”

“I need you to trust me and stop flipping out at me every two seconds, okay? You’re all I’m about. You make my mind calm — well, until you start yelling and throwing things at me.”

“I can’t promise you that I will,” I whispered in his chest. “I don’t know if I can.”

“But you
must
.”

Te Amo
… so … “I’ll try.”

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