Resisting the Billionaire Collection (52 page)

She was waited, staring into his eyes,
hungry for what he had to say. Had he followed her?

"You followed me?" 

He was in pain.

"
Don't make it sound so weird, MJ. It’s not like
that.
"

"Not like what?"

He looked down, avoiding her gaze. Words
failed him.

"Like a sophomore with a
crush? Is that what you mean?" What happened next Adam would never
have believed possible. Not in a million years.
 
Please Jesus, this can not be
happening to me. Make it stop, please God. 

MJ couldn't believe
her
eyes as she saw the
flush begin to rise in his cheeks. He was actually going to blush.
This cocky guy, all six-foot two of him.

He glanced up and saw the astonishment in
her eyes. The sexy grin on her face the let him know she was onto
him. He tried to turn his face away but she followed him and held
onto his hand, refusing to release him. The hunter had become the
hunted.

Eventually he conceded defeat and lifted up
his face to reveal a big goofy, sheepish grin on his impossibly
rugged and good-looking face.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you after I
delivered the package. So if you want to call that a sophomore
crush then yeah, sure, it’s exactly that. I'm sorry." He said and
smiled again.

"I'm really not a
stalker." He emphasized.
But there’s a
first time for everything and I will stalk if I have to.
He thought.

"I know." She said. "I've had stalkers
before and they don't blush like ripe tomatoes." She grinned at him
and he smiled back, then they both laughed. She was still holding
his hand. He felt like a fool, like a stupid schoolboy, but still
he didn't want her to let him go.

She didn't.

He might be just a courier, but he was one
of the good guys. Even she could see that.

"We're even now, okay?" She said, referring
to her own blush when they had first met earlier that
afternoon.

She wants me.
He thought, but his mind felt like a ping pong
ball at the Beijing Olympics. Did she? Didn't she?
Go for it Adam. Don't let her get
away.

"Not even close." He said, his confidence
returning. "Your blush was so cute I nearly asked you out on the
spot."

She felt her color beginning to rise again.
What was it with this guy? He knew how to push her buttons. He knew
where all of them were. He stared at her as she forced the blush
back down.

"So why didn't you?" She
asked. 
Stop it MJ, don't get
involved, don't get involved.

Now it was his turn to choke. Why the hell
hadn't he? 

"I… " He had nothing.

He had never felt like this before. He was
always in control when he was with women. He always took the lead,
but with MJ, he couldn't figure out what was happening anymore. Did
she want him to take her? Most women did, except maybe some with
issues. But MJ... he couldn't figure it out. He waited.

"Forget it." She said before he could think
of anything. "Come on inside so I can get you cleaned up."

She sat him down in the kitchen and found
her little first aid kit. First she cleaned the wound, disinfected
it, and then applied a simple dressing. He never moved throughout
and just sat like he was carved out of warm, sensual wood,
accepting her care, inwardly trying to keep his arousal to a
minimum.

There was no way around it. The act was an
intimate one -- sexual even. Her face was so close to his that she
became intoxicated by his masculine smell. Nurse fantasies floated
through his mind and her incredibly feminine smell mixed with
whatever perfume she wore made it hard for him to think
straight. Her face was so close to his that the urge to kiss
her was impossibly strong.

But he held back.

She had to brush back his hair, running her
fingers through it to expose the wound, and the thrill shot through
his body and straight down into his balls. She could feel his
reaction to the sting of the disinfectant and his self-control as
he swallowed the flinch. It took his reeling mind briefly off
the impossibly sensual woman next to him.

He could hear her breath; soft, female,
delicate, and sensual. Every inch of her was made of sensual curves
and lines, her tapering neck plunging gracefully into refined
female sexuality.

She could hear his breath; deep, male, and
powerful. Every inch of him made of sinewy muscle, his broad neck
rippling with power and restrained desire. 

MJ couldn't help imagining what it would be
like to be lifted by him, thrown into his bed and then have him on
top of her, satisfying his male need inside her. Her panties
were already wet and she imagined his head between her thighs,
laving her with his insatiable tongue. 

Adam looked into her eyes and saw images of
himself lifting her bodily to throw her into his bed and then
satisfing her female need under him. He pictured his head between
her thighs, laving her insatiable bud of desire with his relentless
tongue.

He glanced down and saw
the curves of her bodacious cleavage just inches from his nose,
tongue, and lips. 
Oh my God.
He thought.
This is
getting bad...

MJ stopped and drew back. Aware of how ample
her boobs were, she suddenly realized that they were practically in
the poor guy’s face. It wasn't fair. If she wasn't going to fuck
him, why turn him on? It was as though her body were taking over
and her conscious mind was losing control.

She wondered if he was turned on already.
Part of her hoped he was feeling something, even if all he would
get today was a thank you, a cup of coffee, and maybe -- just maybe
-- a peck on the cheek.

Adam sat there, sweating.
If it were not for the hell of trying to control his pulsating
erection, he would have been in heaven.
She’s doing it on purpose.
He
thought.
Turning me on like an electric
flagpole.

Was she getting off on toying with him?
Taking control of his body away from him without even laying a
finger on him? Was it some kind of kinky control issue? Probably
she would bring him to a cliff edge of fully-clothed climax, perk
him up with a cup of coffee, and then give him a trouser-ripping
peck on the cheek, acting all innocent as though her lips on his
cheek weren’t like flame to naked gasoline.

He would ride the crowded
rush hour subway home with a circus tent pole in his pants unless
he could jack off in her bathroom before he left.
Would that be appropriate?
Now the thoughts were just getting crazy.

He couldn't take it anymore.

"Could you stand back please?" He said in a
choked voice.

"Excuse me?" She replied.

"Would you mind just standing back a little?
I'm sorry but I'm only human and as much as I'm enjoying it, God...
" He was breathing hard.

"What?" She was
breathless, he watched her full round breasts begin to
heave.
That's it!

"I'm sorry." He said. "I need some air." He
jumped up and stepped out onto the fire escape.

He mopped his brow and thought of her
fingers and how just a moment ago they had rested there, so gently
but so powerfully. This girl must be practicing some kind of sexual
witchcraft.

MJ stood in the kitchen with the last of the
dressing in her hand.

Well done.
She thought. She looked down at her boobs and
hardened nipples.
Bad girls.
She spoke to her breasts.
Even the hot stalker is getting scared off by you
guys. 

Adam looked below and saw a cycle courier
going by with a pile of items for delivery. 

"You're out late, buddy." He murmured to
himself. 

The bike looked familiar. The delivery items
looked familiar.

"Hey, what's your name?" MJ called out to
him from the kitchen, realizing that there was, in fact, a large,
aroused man in her small apartment, and she had no idea who he was.
He didn’t answer.

"Are you okay?" She asked. 

 
"Oh my God!" He
hissed. "My goddamn bike!"

He came rushing out from the fire escape.
"MJ, I've gotta go. I'm really sorry but I have to run. Please call
me. You have my number, right?"

"Uh yes, I think so. It's in my
wallet." 

"Okay." She said, totally confused.

In the heat of the moment, before he even
knew what he was doing, he had leaned in and put a peck of a kiss
onto her lips. Then he fled the apartment, racing down the hall and
taking the stairs three, four, and five at a time.

The thrill of his kiss lingered in her body,
sending tingles through her skin. It had been so tiny, so brief
,but nobody had ever kissed her like that before. 

What the hell just
happened?
She thought.

"Meeeeoooow!"

Blackjack was back. MJ gave him a wry
look. 

"Just like a guy." She said. "Out the door
when the chips are down, back again when it damn suits you."

Chapter
Thirteen

"Sir, I have the bike." Joshua’s guy had arrived in a
van with Adam’s bike in the back.

"Good work. Now go find some kid to ride it
up and down the street."

The guy thought about questioning the order
but thought better of it and set work. Within minutes he had found
a local teenager to get into the saddle and ride in full view of
MJ’s side of the building. Two hundred dollars beforehand and the
remaining $200 upon completion of the task. If anyone challenged
him, he was instructed to take off and not hand that bike or those
packages over for anything.

It wasn’t long before Adam came tumbling out
of the building and chased down the road after his bike and
packages. Joshua watched him with a slight grin.

That’ll teach you to
double cross me.
He thought.

A moment later, a black cat wandered up and
began purring as he rubbed his sides against Joshua’s ankles.

"Hey, Blackjack." He said as he picked up
the fat cat. "You look like you haven’t been fed yet today."
Blackjack purred heavily in response.

"Make sure this animal gets fed well." He
handed the cat to his guy and looked at his watch.

"Damn it! I’ve got a plane to catch." It was
a face-to-face meeting with the head of a major American bank that
he couldn’t afford to blow off. He looked absentmindedly at the
antics taking place between Adam and his paid decoy.

"Keep your eyes on MJ and let me know
immediately if she needs anything. Don’t let her out of your
sight."

"What about the courier, sir?"

Joshua laughed. "Adam? I think we’ve taken
care of him." He hopped into the van and ordered the driver to step
on it to JFK.

Chapter
Fourteen

Adam raced through the streets shouting after the
bike thief, his face plastered with an incongruous smile and his
cock at half-mast in his pants. He feared for his bike and his
job, but all he could really think about was that peck on the lips
he had given MJ before he ran. It had felt like nothing before in
his whole life. Better than boning half the chicks he had been
with; better even than doing a couple of them at the same
time. 

No way. This girl was the one. 

It didn't take him long to catch up with the
thief. Adam was extremely athletic, an accomplished wrestler, and a
decent martial artist. Unless he saw a gun or a knife, he knew
absolutely no fear. Even then he might weigh up his chances before
throwing in the towel.

He set his hands on the culprit's shoulders
and bodily swung him to the ground, careful to disable but not hurt
him.

"That's my goddam bike, you asshole!" He
shouted into the skinny youngster's face. The young man was yelping
in fear. 

"I'm sorry man! I'm sorry, I'm a homeless
guy, I just needed a buck, please don't hurt me!"

He heard the groan and twist of metal being
mangled -- a bicycle frame to be exact. The young man's face
changed from fear to absolute terror. 

"Oh Jesus, please don't hurt me, man! It
wasn't my fault! You grabbed me. I was taking care of the goddamn
bike."

He looked over his shoulder to see his most
valuable possession and only means of income mutilated beyond any
hope of repair by a delivery truck. The driver was getting out. He
was big and he was angry.

"What the hell? Look at my truck! Which
asshole owns this bike?"

"That'd be me." Adam said. The driver looked
him up and down. 

"God damn cycle couriers. Never looking at
stop signs, thinking you own the damn roads. Who's this piece of
shit here?" He pointed to the young man.

"He stole the bike from me."

"It wasn't locked." The thief shrieked, as
though this were justification. The driver looked at him
enraged. 

"You little piece of shit!" He started
stamping down on him but Adam pushed him back. 

"Leave him alone. He's just a kid and he's
homeless."

"You're protecting him? What kind of moron
are you?" The driver turned from them and returned to his truck. He
picked up what was left of Adam's bike and yanked it from under his
front wheels. The metal groaned and twisted even more.

"Hey, hold up dude! That's my bike you got
there." Adam sprang to life to rescue what was left of his ride. As
soon as he did, the thief jumped and ran. 

"I don't care buddy, just get the piece of
shit off my fender and then give me your insurance because you will
pay for this. Do you understand me?"