The Billionaire Bundle (6 page)

Eventually, Ian's thrusting slowed until finally, he stopped.  Heaving a great sigh of contentment and still breathing heavily, Ian knelt beside her on the bed. Gently, so gently, he began to untie her hands.  "You were spectacular, Tessa.  You've given me such great pleasure already.  You are so beautiful, so responsive." 

"I.." she blushed, realizing how ridiculous it was for her to be embarrassed now, after all they had just done.  "I... I've never felt like that before."

"This is only the beginning, my sweet Tess.  I have so much to show you, so much love to make to you."

Only then did she think to look around for the other woman, realizing she was no longer in the room with them.

"Where's Stella?" she asked breathlessly, sitting up and rubbing her wrists as she looked toward the bedroom door.

Ian smiled and caressed Tessa's cheek. "You'll see her again," he replied, leaning down to kiss her neck.  "We have a glorious month in front of us."

#   #   #

It was Friday afternoon, just after 4:30. I was at my desk, already dreaming of kicking off my weekend with a chilled glass of buttery Chardonnay, when I glanced up from my computer and saw the face of my boss, Gary, looking at me from above my cubicle wall.

Now, any of you who have ever worked in an office with cubicles knows damn well that it is
not
a good sign when your boss appears at your desk right before the weekend.  I groaned inwardly, and mentally prepared myself to thwart whatever idea he had that involved my working on the weekend. 

"What is it, Gary?"

I tried not to sound too snappish, but I couldn't completely keep the tone of irritation out of my voice.  Gary's a nice enough guy, I guess -- late thirties, still has most of his hair, kind of socially awkward, which he tries to hide by pretending to be really blasé about everything.  But really, the effect is that he comes off as this odd mixture of hyper and stoned.  It's hard to explain.

"So, yeah, Lindsay, if you could just go ahead and stay a little late this evening to work on an important deadline, that'd be great..." Gary drawled, in a fairly unfunny impersonation of the irritating boss from
Office Space
.  I didn't give him the satisfaction of a pity smile.  I've found that encouraging him in his attempts to be funny only prolongs the agony. 

"Seriously, Gary? I've got a million things to do this weekend.  Are there seriously no other accountants you can ask?" Okay, I didn't exactly have that much going on this weekend.  But that's not the point, is it?  The point is, it's called the week-
end.
And it's
mine.

"Linds, I'm sorry.  Believe me, if it was up to me, I wouldn't ask you to do this.  Orders from
on high.
Out of my hands," he explained, doing air quotes for the "on high" part and rolling his eyes upward, toward the top floor, where all the executive offices were.

"What, so I don't have a choice?
Whose
orders?" I retorted, sure that he was inventing some fictional command from the bigwigs so I'd be more likely to agree.

"Jeff Hansen's," he said with a conspiratorial wink,
pleased to call my bluff.

Wow.  I
f he was bluffing, he wasn't afraid to go big.  Jeff Hansen was one of a handful of VPs at Allen James.  He and his twin brother, Greg, also a VP, were the sons of the former CEO and current major stockholder, Robert Hansen.  Jeff and Greg Hansen breathed rarefied air, they were a major force within the company, and by all accounts they were not to be fucked with.  Plus, they were gorgeous as hell.  I had never met either one of them, but I had been in the same room with either or both of them on a few occasions.  Jeff had a reputation as a friendly, outgoing guy but with very high standards.  He was a bit of a playboy, with sandy blond hair, blue eyes, and a gorgeous, square-jawed smile.  His fraternal twin, Greg, had similar features but darker, almost chestnut-colored hair, and was quieter and more serious.  Jeff seemed to always have a string of one beautiful woman after another, whereas Greg had been connected to various socialites in longer-term relationships, the last of which had been rumored to have ended about six months ago. 

I'm not saying I have a thing for these guys, but I will admit that I have fantasized about one or the other of them more than once late at night, in the privacy of my own bedroom.  The two of them have these simply luscious, pouty, full lips... God, it's like their mouths were made to make women dream of one of them lowering his head between your legs and softly nuzz
ling you
down there
with their lips and tongue... Ooohhhh, it's enough to make my panties wet just thinking about it right now.  My face reddened, as though Gary could read my thoughts, and I cleared my throat and clicked a couple of things with my mouse to make it look like I was thinking about work.

If Jeff Hansen was really the one behind this deadline, then I might just have to suck it up and work tonight. Not that I'd probably ever get any sort of recognition for my dedication; he probably would never know that I was the one sacrificing her Friday evening.  Or maybe he would. Maybe I had been chosen for this because I was one of the single accountants -- someone who didn't have a spouse and kids to return home to.  Was I being chosen because I was what one euphemistically called a "big girl"?  Was I someone it was easy to assume would have nothing better to do on a Friday night?

Pushing those thoughts from my mind, I looked up at Gary and said, "Okay, so I'm not saying I
will
do this.  But tell me what the deadline is about." 

"Honestly?  I have no idea," Gary replied, dropping the overly casual act for once.  "All I know is, Hansen said it was critical, and he asked for you specifically."

What?!
He had asked for me specifically? I had no idea that either one of the Hansen twins even knew I existed, much less my name or what I did.  "Are you pulling my leg so I'll say yes, Gary?" I retorted, eyeing him suspiciously.

"No, I swear he did!" Gary protested, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "In fact, he asked you to go up to his office to be briefed ASAP."

My curiosity had gotten the better of me. I told Gary I would go upstairs to see what was required of me -- much to Gary's visible relief.  "Awesome!  Thanks a million, Linds!" He turned and happily walked away, a little bounce in his step.  Sure, I thought:
you're
happy.  You're leaving now, to go home and enjoy your weekend. 

I, on the other hand, was about to meet Jeff Hansen face to face.  I grabbed my purse and trotted over to the bathroom to check that there wasn't something stuck in my teeth before facing the inevitable.  Once in the bathroom, I looked at my reflection in the mirror.  Nope, I hadn't miraculously become beautiful since last time I looked.  I gave myself a critical once-over: same dark-blond hair, tied up in a loose bun.  Good skin, clear green eyes.  Luckily, I had good cheekbones, despite my full-figured frame. My lips were nice and full, too.  But then, there was my figure.  I sighed in resignation.  I would never be model-thin -- far from it.  I had more curves than I knew what to do with.  I had a tough time finding clothes that fit me well and were professional, since most of those kinds of clothes seemed designed for stick figures.  Today, I had on a dark red button-down silk blouse and a black skirt that hugged my hips without being too revealing.  I smoothed the skirt and re-tucked my blouse. On impulse, I took my hair out of its bun and brushed it out, letting it fall gently over my shoulders.  My hair was one of my best features, and I figured it shouldn't go to waste on this first impression.  I reapplied my lipstick, gave myself a final glance, and then exited the bathroom.

I wandered over to the elevator, my thoughts all a jumble.  When the doors opened, I got in and pressed the button for the top floor -- the first time I had ever done so.  The doors closed, and time seemed to warp and slow as the elevator made the steady, mechanical ascent to the top.  I heard the bell ding, and the doors opened again to reveal a large reception area, done in rich chocolate browns and deep reds, with inviting leather sofas to one side, and a large reception desk to the other. 

Behind the desk sat a gorgeous blond woman, impeccably dressed.  "May I he
lp you?" she intoned in a sultry voice.  Great, I thought; I'm already intimidated by the secretary.  Sighing inwardly, I steeled myself. 

"Yes," I said brightly. "I was told Mr. Hansen wanted to see me.  Lindsay Hamilton."  

"Ah, yes, Ms. Hamilton. Right this way." Well, at least so far, it seemed like Gary hadn't been lying. The woman escorted me down a hallway past a conference room, to a large door.  She rapped three times on the door, and then turned the knob.  "Mr. Hansen? Ms. Hamilton is here to see you," she said smoothly, opening the door completely and nodding to me to go through.

I stepped inside. The décor in here was similar in style to the reception area, but a little lighter in palette.  One entire wall consisted of floor-to-ceiling windows with a stunning view of the late-afternoon city skyline.  It was so beautiful that I forgot why I was there for a moment, until I heard a deep, throaty voice say, "Ms. Hamilton. It's a pleasure to meet you."

I looked toward the desk to see Jeff Hansen in the flesh walking toward me.  And what gorgeous flesh it was. Good God, this guy was even hotter up close than he was far away.  He held out his hand, and my smaller one was enveloped in his larger, muscular one.  His broad shoulders perfectly filled out his impeccably tailored suit.  He was stunning, and moved with such fluid ease in his clothes, which fit him so well.  Even so, I found myself wishing I could get a chance to see whether he looked even better naked.  Mmmm... My mind wandered, imagining myself tracing my tongue along his hard pecs, to his abdomen, and then down his happy trail, to his...

"Thank you for agreeing to come on such short notice, Ms. Hamilton. I'm so glad you were able to do so." Jeff Hansen's eyes crinkled as his lips turned up easily into a slightly bad-boy smile.  He seemed to be enjoying the fact that I clearly didn't know why exactly I was here.  Oh, man.  I hoped he couldn't read the thoughts I was having about him.  I struggled to clear my head and maintain a veneer of professionalism. 

"Can I offer you a drink?" he asked, gesturing to a mini-bar behind me. 

"Um, I..." I started. "Well, I'm not sure that's such a great idea.  After all, I'm sure you don't want my head cloudy when I'm going through your figures."  He laughed, and I blushed, feeling a little prim and hoping he wouldn't catch my unintentional "your figure" double entendre. 

"I wouldn't worry about that, Ms. Hamilton.  May I call you Lindsay?" I nodded mutely, amazed that he even knew my first name. "The nature of what I'll be needing you for doesn't preclude a little drink.  It is Friday evening, after all.  What can I get you?"

"Um... vodka tonic?" I ventured.

"Perfect," he affirmed, striding over to the bar.  As he mixed the drink, my curiosity got the better of me.  "Mr. Hansen..." I began.

"Please.  Call me Jeff."

"Jeff," I began again. God, this was strange.  "What exactly
is
the ... nature of what you'll be needing me for?"

"Let's have a seat and enjoy our drinks, shall we?" he said, handing me mine and gesturing to an overstuffed leather sofa facing the view. I went over to it and sat down, and he sat beside me.  Catching my gaze, he raised his drink to mine and said, "To the beginning of an enjoyable relationship."

I clinked my glass against his, not knowing what I was getting myself into.  I took a sip of the drink.  It was perfectly mixed, just the way I liked it.  I forced myself to relax a bit, and try not to focus on worrying what all this was about.  I tried to act like I was in the company of incredibly handsome, incredibly rich men all the time.  The fact was, I was not often in the company of
any
men, rich or otherwise.  I guess I was just picky, and probably also self-conscious that I didn't look like the standard male fantasy of beauty.  It's not like I didn't have any sexual experience at all, but what experience I did have was sorely lacking in spark or flames.  Most of it had been pretty vanilla, and not very satisfying.  My fantasies, on the other hand, were much more exciting -- including the fantasies I had had about the man in front of me and his brother.  As I sat there, trying just to enjoy the moment, my mind wandered to what this man and I had done together in my mind. As I felt the vodka begin to warm my stomach and my skin, my panties started to get wet with the thoughts of Jeff Hansen fucking me with wild abandon, making me cry out for more.  Mmmm...

"How is your drink?" Jeff asked me.

"Mmmm... delicious," I murmured, still a bit lost in my thoughts.  I started, remembering where I was.  "I mean... well, yes, delicious.  Exactly the way I like it."

"I'm glad to hear it," he replied, looking into my eyes with a mysterious smile.  "I hope that I'm able to respond to your tastes as well in... other areas."

"Um... care to explain that?" I said boldly.  Clearly, the alcohol was lowering my inhibitions.

"Yes, actually, I'd love to.  So, I'm sure you have been wondering why I sent for you."

"Yes, very much so.  My boss wasn't able to give me many details."

"That's because I didn't tell him any," Jeff responded. "He doesn't need to know anything about this. It's between you and me.  And my brother."

"Your brother?" Now I was
really
intrigued.

"Yes. My brother.  You see, today is his...
our
... birthday."

"Happy birthday."

"Thank you.  I hope it will be.  For this birthday, I wanted to get Greg a...
special
present."  He eyed me speculatively as he said this.  I waited for him to continue. 

"Greg and I are very close," he went on.  "We do many things together, and we have many similar tastes, despite the differences in our personalities.  Our tastes in women, for example, are very similar.  And both of us have noticed you."

"Me?" I almost gasped.  How could that be? With their good looks and wealth, they were certain to be constantly surrounded by beautiful women.