The Good Mistress: A BWWM Billionaire Romance (8 page)

But no, Blake couldn’t be attempting to manipulate her as his eyes warmed. 

“Well.” Mila snuggled into the nook of his chest muscles. The fit was perfect. Just as his dick had been last night, all though stretching her to meet his girth. “I slept so damn hard, and so good. Feels like I've been out for years, or at least caught up on the sleep I’ve been missing.” 

“Good, sleeping beauty. It brings me great pleasure to satisfy you, Mila. This is a smart bed, destined to identify exactly what your body needs. Did it do your body well?”

This man made everything transform into sex. 

Blake was sex personified. 

Staving off embarrassment, Mila rubbed her hand on her face and chuckled. He put her in good spirits. “Well I do believe, Mr. Baldwin, you have done my body so very damn well it's a sin.”

And shit, she meant it. A bubble of laughter erupted from her. She felt too old to be a giddy, whoring school girl. But she laughed until she cried with Blake holding her, claiming her...

Mila wiped tears from her eyes, and Blake took her hand before she could wipe the other cheek. He kissed the soft flesh of the inside of her palm. Then Blake licked those tears off his lips. The taste of her skin made him murmur. Last night he had toyed with her emotions, sexing her body in so many ways. It was as if there were two or three Blake Baldwin’s that needed to be satiated.

Her breath became heavy as his tender kiss went from her palm to the inside of her wrist. That soft skin which had
never
received an act of intimacy made Mila smile. Then his lips went to the last bit of tears on her left cheek. He wanted to kiss away the pain she had endured. A married man, he sought in his own way to make her whole... Or so she perceived it. 

They lay beside each other for a while, and the silent contentment almost scared her—it had the ingredients of a good marriage. Fresh air flooded Mila’s lungs in a deep sigh. She found herself asking about Blake’s abdominal scar as her index finger trailed up the deep welt.

“Uhhhhh…. I’ve got so many fucking scars. Let’s see, where did I get that one…”

“You’ve done all kindsa crazy stunts, huh?” She grinned. There were more slight nicks over his body, but all the scars enhanced his beauty. He had this aura about him, as addicting as her first take with Hewitt Corporation.

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Adrenaline is my drug of choice. This scar came from Annapurna II. I was climbing the West Ridge.” With bulging biceps, Blake pulled Mila on top of him. From his position, Blake looked up at Mila. “The Mountain was so fucking gorgeous, and at my fingertips. In my mind’s eye, I was no longer a rookie. But was I really ready for the glory of her. This breathtaking soul before me.”

Those two divine hands glided across her dark flesh, curving across her hips, to
own
every inch of her ass. Her hair became a cascade shrouding out the daylight, enveloping them into privacy. Mila’s pearly teeth sought and clamped down on Blake’s bottom lip. The act made his hardness spear the center of her thigh as she straddled him. She kissed Blake until all inhibitions floated away, then sat up to take a breath. Still holding Blake siege with her thick thighs, Mila ran her fingertips up and down taut skin. Last night she knew his body. If they never leave this room again, she'd die with every piece of him engrained in her soul. 

“I’m hungry...” His words were nothing short of a growl.

“Oh.” She began to move a leg from around him. 

“No.” His large hands stopped her retreat. “God made woman out of man, Mila, to be his everything. It's only right that I taste the sweetness of sustenance and that, my dear, comes from you.” 

She licked her lips. “Daily dose of vitamins?”

Chapter 12

Blake.

HE NODDED
.
Daily
dose of vitamins; the phrase had him laughing now. He felt like a mindless teen. For half the night, his blood had gone straight to his cock, which attributed to the teenaged hormones.

This was the woman of his dreams. The good girl Diane pretended to be when they first met. A few days ago, Blake returned to receive an envelope from Tom. Pulling out the money order from the lovely Miss Ali blew his mind. Yeah, he planned on fucking her. Mila returning his money didn’t offend him in the slightest. In that instant, Mila reminded him of the woman who helped raise him when his own mother was too busy.

Last night, it irked Blake to no end when she walked into his home, making demands. Her tenacity was fucking heavenly, but it alerted him that she planned to keep some of herself from him. That wouldn’t do.

“Blake…” Mila strummed his name while licking the silky pink of her lips. Those gorgeous brown eyes shied away for a moment. “Why do you look at me so…”

“Nobody’s ever looked at you like this before,” he asked, voice thick with sex. “As beautiful as you are, I don’t believe it.”

“Nope, never. Well, I’ve been flirted with before, but the way you stare…”

He wanted her to say more, waited even, cocking his left eyebrow.

With a tilt of his head, Blake gestured for her to climb on up his face. As Mila crawled up into position, her knees above his shoulders he said, “Well, I like a woman who isn’t easy, who’s challenging. An innocent woman with morals and a head on her shoulders. A woman who has ambition is a fucking turn-on. And to get to her to fall to her knees is even better.”

“Hmmm, but I’m not the one on my knees, Blake. It’s you that is below me.”

“Touché.” Blake grinned as she lowered her lady parts. His tongue had already conjured up the taste of those sweet lips and the crème that lied within as he helped her adjust herself around his shoulders. Head back, Blake got to work as she gripped the headboard and gyrated. Those soft moans were slightly muffled by her muscular legs near his ear, but when his tongue delved deep and began to lick away her desire, a deep moan erupted from Mila’s mouth and became his persuasion.

A dog. She'd turned the billionaire into a begging animal. His hands again clamped around her ass and hips, he plunged her pussy down harder. Damn, he'd almost gotten his chin in there. Blake’s dick tapped against his thigh, thirsty for a taste, too.

The quivering in her legs prompted Blake to heft her up even more. She needed support to survive. Fuck it. He could do it. He needed her essence to survive. Shit. She gave her nectar like water. The most vital source. 

Golden sunrays washed over their naked bodies. Though time was a non-factor, Blake supposed it had to be around noon as a bright glow beamed down upon his newest, most prized obsession.

“Time for a shower.” Blake's command warmed Mila’s entire body. She snuggled closer into the safe haven of his arms. He gave her slender, curvy body a quick squeeze promoting her reply.

“Mmm, maybe later.” She took a deep breath; it tickled his forearms. “Blake, I just want to rest again.”

“Rest?” His tummy rumbled with laughter, and Mila became putty in his embrace. “It’s your sexual demands have—”

“Those demands are still conclusive.”

“All right, Mila. You be the analytical one. On the other hand, I’d allow you to tie me any way you’d want. My only goal is for you to fully surrender. You’d be more relaxed if—”

“Fully
surrender
?” She turned around. “And allow?”

Though delving in a jovial mode, Blake’s gaze countered her confused almond glare. “Yes,
allow
. Yes, let go, Mila.”
You belong to me now.

Insulted, Mila snapped, “Have you
not
explored my entire body.”

He reached over, grabbed her high cheekbones and allowed his forehead to touch her own. “As I've said, get rid of those preconceived notions. I’ve seen your entire body, but fuck no, I haven’t explored it in a way that we both can truly enjoy.”

Mila moved away and got up from the bed, grabbing the linen around herself. “I've already told you that this—” she gestured at her chest, then him, “—this was a one night...” Then her eyes continued to glance around as if searching for a path to fly away.

The softness of her body had woven into Blake’s memory. He wanted Mila to be real with him. He wanted to keep her and placate all the uncertainty swarming through that gorgeous mind. “Continue.”

“Stop that!”

“Stop what?”
Shit, last night we were almost there.
He bit his lip, recalling how good the sex was once he’d gotten Mila into bed. That quick fuck downstairs should have taken the edge off. The way he kissed every inch of her body, in this very bed, now
that
should have had Mila more at ease.

“What was I thinking? I don’t care that you and Diane can screw other people, even on the same fucking continent.” Her hands flew to the heavens. “Blake, I think it's time for me to go home...”

Chapter 13

Mila

AFTER FOUR MONTHS
of being stuck with just her own thoughts, the night had been jam-packed with more passion than Mila could take. As Lamb drove her home, she took into consideration the quick fuck upon arrival. Blake gave the release she needed. Why hadn't they smashed like rabbits all night long? Better yet, why hadn’t she thanked Blake for his service and not gone through the dread of going upstairs?

Shame on me for staying.
Mila’s head sank against the headrest as all of the “what if’s” crossed her mind. Heck, an even better question was: why hadn’t he grown tired and offered a predetermined stack of cash in an envelope, or further insult her by pulling out a checkbook and scrawling the amount he assumed she was worth?

Blake had done neither. The blow-your-mind sex, infused itself into her essence as she’d slept.  His scent, the way his five o’ clock shadow prickled the inside of her thick thighs, all solidified in her memory. He’d become that tangible.  Like graduating from college, or marriage, or the birth of your first child, Blake would forever be that memorable. And the moment she awoke in his arms, Mila knew she never would be the same. Let the sex continue. And so it had, until Blake implied he wanted to know more of her mind.

There were dark corners of thought, such as the young Somali mother and son, things she’d rather not divulge. No, Blake couldn’t have really wanted—to know
her.

Blake was supposed to be her six-foot-two, thick, sexy dildo. A big piece of plastic to give her sexual liberation and stymy all other emotions. She’d heard before that anytime a woman lays with a man, she loses a piece of herself to him. And in return, he leaves a part of himself in her. That was the biggest weight. She expected Blake to leave her momentarily placated. Mila wasn’t stupid. He didn’t love her. A married man like him never could. But she needed to feel alive for just a nanosecond as sure as she needed air to breathe.

Blake gave her that.

Then he surpassed her expectations. He touched her body in ways no man ever had. Mila couldn’t say she had no experience, having bedded three men. But she couldn’t lie, either. Never had she felt so much like a woman.

Those frosted eyes glanced through the rearview window as Lamb drove.

Playing with fire would come one of two ways. Blake Baldwin had the ability to make her comfortable. Even when he casually implied that he wanted to know her mind. Mila had wanted to talk to him, tell him… everything. But she decided that it was his allure. The more Mila got caught in Blake’s spell, the less the determination she had about taking his money. And that meant clinging to morals, emotions.

The Staples Center came into view as she decided emotions wouldn't do. Leaning back on the headrest, Mila knew it was the safer bet. 

~~~

Mila called Clarissa, and they decided to take a run along the beach. As they jogged down the steps in the back of Mila's house, the sky was a plethora of colors in the horizon as daybreak crept in. 

“Oh Mila.  I've been calling and calling. I came by late on Friday night with the girls to tempt you to a night of heavy muscles and cocks of every color.”

“Yeah, I was… asleep.” Mila let the lie roll off her tongue as she followed behind Clarissa. “You know I don't prefer strip clubs, either. Anyway, you have a realtor friend don't you?”

“Leanna, sure. If you hadn’t been such a sleepy head, you and Leanna could have chatted. Wait a friggen minute.” Clarissa stopped at the bottom step to turn around. Her hand went to narrowed hip as she conducted an inspection.

Mila lifted her leg and allowed her ankle to lean against the railing as she stretched. “Those bony ass legs of yours are going to feel heavy. Ten miles, Clarissa. Get to stretching.”

“Not so fast. You weren't home the night before last. Girl, don't let me think you have been avoiding me for no reason. You've been slutting around. Why not have Blake help sell your home. You know those rich people—”

“Wait, what?”

Clarissa spoke quickly, as if a defense attorney clearing the guiltiest of thugs. “You and I were at The Yardhouse for lunch when I grabbed that magazine about Blake paying your mortgage. You were in there for a long time, and I know for friggen sure that Blake has some goodies in his office.”

Mila took a deep breath. Her friend was on point. The damn man had an oasis in his office. She almost smiled at having the bravery not to give into Blake even then.

“You didn't want to go to the spa last week; I'm betting Mr. Money Bags worked those kinks so good he damn near broke your back! So forget Leanna, have one of his realtors’ take a look at your home. The property is
gorg
. Now where is he moving you to?”

“Clarissa, you're worse than Lido.” Mila began in a slow jog while stretching one arm across her chest, pulling her elbow.

Clarissa kept stride. “Talk to me. What happened?”

“Okay, what happened…” Mila scoffed and stopped her run. She wasn't in the mood, anyway. She'd dreamt of Blake all night since running away from him yesterday afternoon.
I’m too damn old to be infatuated with a sex freak.

She missed Warren, her equal. Her bank account qualified as the butt of many a standup comedian’s joke. But she refused to disclose it for fear of being perceived as a failure.  But she already knew the truth. She was indeed a big, fat failure...

As Clarissa hungered for just a morsel of Mila’s ‘fairytale’, Mila sighed. “Girl the sex was so good I saw the Holy Ghost himself.”

“
That
good?” Bright red strands slapped Clarissa's face, and she grinned.

“No! Not
that
good
because I'm far from poetic. I need a friggen thesaurus to find the words! Clarissa, let me tell you, girl… it was even better.”

“So you're his new slut?”

There it was. The part Mila didn’t want to get into. The moment people assumed the worst. Not that Mila censored herself around Clarissa—heavens knew she didn’t judge. Her good friend embrace whoredom. Mila just didn't want to compromise herself. Being Keith’s friend in college had done this very thing. People thought they were more than platonic, even when he brought around a different chick for every encounter. But with Blake… Mila actually tried, and failed at keeping everything kosher with him.

“C’mon Mila! Spill it already. Where did you do it? How?” Her eyes brightened further. “What size is
it
?”

“None of that matters. I won't be laying eyes on Blake Baldwin ever again.”

Clarissa paused. “But you sound sad... Did he... Was he one of those rich creeps that like it rough? You said
no
, he
refused
to stop! Do we need to tell my brother, Wyatt?”

Cool air glided across her skin, conjuring the feeling of Blake kissing all over her body. Mila shook her head no.

Clarissa held a hypothetical belief of cheating. The fox toyed with the opposite sex. But when the shoe was on the other foot, her big, beef head brother Wyatt made all the pain go away.

“Okay, so Blake isn’t a creep. I don’t mind telling Wyatt, you know he’s head over heels for you. What should we do?” Clarissa followed as Mila kept a brisk pace. Mila shrugged, and they walked silently for a while.

~~~

Monday's were always particularly trying, but this one took the cake. She'd spoken with Leanna after her run with Clarissa, and they planned to meet tomorrow evening to view Mila’s home. While she’d made the call, Mila remembered the day Warren first brought her to this house. He made her put on a blindfold while driving up Pacific Coast Highway, then his Porsche had lurched to a stop. The sound of the ocean below tempted Mila, but he wouldn’t allow her to take off the scarf. The cool salty air feathered through her hair as he took her hand and led her out of the car. Even in her darkness, Warren’s happiness wrapped around Mila, making her giddy. And the sight before her eyes was a dream come true.

A vision of herself jumping into Warren’s arms popped before Mila’s eyes as she pulled up the winding driveway. But just as quickly as her fiancé flashed before her, Mila felt the warmth of another man. The
wrong
man.

All her thoughts these days led back to Blake. How had he worshiped her body so well?
If he can sex my body any better—
Mila stopped herself from wishful thinking. She’d ruined any chance of happiness. If you could call sleeping with a billionaire without commitment
happiness
.

She turned the wheel and moved pass the wrought iron gates. Then Mila’s breath caught when seeing an Aston Martin in the driveway.

Blake
...

Every instance they crossed paths, Blake drove a new toy. Nonetheless, Mila had poked a hole in that ship before it could even set sail. Desire pooled in her mouth, and she had to gulp down the anticipation.
Stop it
; she warned the warm swelling of her labia.

Mila pulled alongside the baby blue coupe, but he wasn't in the car.

Her eyebrows knitted as she looked through the suns glare in the window to get a glimpse of Blake’s sexy face as he paced back and forth near the clay fountain.

The height was all wrong.

Mila grabbed the banana leather purse from the passenger seat and stopped her huff of disappointment as she got out the car. 
I ran away like a raging lunatic. Blake doesn’t want to be bothered with me anymore.

Like the coiling of her abdomen, Mila’s luck continued its turn for the worst.

The man was 5 foot 11. Dreamy, dark brown skin, clean shaven head. All Keith had to do was turn around and the slight slant of his dark eyes would bring her back to memories pre Warren.

I thought we would end up together,
was the ‘nicest’ thing he had said a few months after claiming to be content with their friendship. The four roommates were all packing, ready to close one chapter in their life and step into the field of their respective careers. Keith flipped out—

For the past few years, Warren saved her from Keith’s presence. Keith had married, but everyone who knew Keith knew that a band on his finger and words said before God meant nothing. The announcement of Warren and Mila’s engagement had been conducted in front of a large group of family, and she remembered Keith’s speech when he heard the news.

“Well big bro, I’ve been so used to the hand-me-downs over the years. Thanks to mom that didn’t occur with my very first car.” Keith chuckled, eyes on the bubbling champagne instead of the friend he’d known for years, “But I see the situation has reversed. Congrats on your engagement.”

The stinging came instantly to Mila’s eye ducts as she clutched the purse like a barrier to her heart. An image of everyone clutching their wine glasses as their eyes flitted back and forth, determining if they should drink to the ‘toast’ or not, flashed in 3D before her. That had been two years ago. He’d apologized, but nothing would ever be the same.

It was too late to toggle the stick shift and high tail it back out of the wrought iron gates. He'd seen her.

No. This was
her
home. Well, for a little while.  She sucked up those tears threatening to break through, and took a deep breath.

Keith’s gaze stroked up and down her body, assessing her burgundy pantsuit. His mouth arched to the left in approval. To Mila’s dismay, she too, drunk him in. No, not as the dreamy boy she’d crushed on at a tender age, but in calculation, in a desire to perceive his brother. Keith didn't wear khakis or polos or nerdy things like Warren. A custom suit adorned his athletic body. It didn’t bring her any closer to the man who once held her heart.

“Hello, stranger.” He rubbed his sharp laid goatee.

“Hey, Keith.” She dug through her purse. The keys had slipped underneath a square-like contraption.

“You've been gone all weekend, Mila. The family is concerned,” he said in a tender tone. The very one he used to apologize to Mila after Warren had a long hard chat with him at the engagement party. What good that did; Keith tried his hand again when the Save-the-Date invitations came out. He’d cornered her while Warren was out of town, reminding her of that kiss they shared.

She put up a finger while gripping her keys. “The concern isn’t necessary, Keith. I am a grown ass woman so tell your
concerned
mother to keep her nose out of my finances.” 

He chuckled at the mockery. The corporate attorney had become more stoic by the moment. Gone was the laughter he extended when she took difficult General Ed courses such as biology or psychology. These days, she stayed away from Keith, even after the apology. Warren had made it easy on her.

“No, Mila. I came by on my own accord—”

“You sure it isn’t at your mother’s insisting? You know what, maybe I’m wrong. That would be pitting her beloved, baby boy against the Somali village whore!”

“Oh grow up, Mila.” He’d grown stuffy since embracing his mother’s requests: Make partner at the law firm. Marry out of your race. All that was left was to have two children once he turned 35.