Billion Dollar Bad Boy (Big City Billionaires #1) Page 3

  Beneath it was a letter.

  Swallowing, I slid the paper into view. The surface was smooth, a single word scrawled, hidden by the sweet treat: Pet.

  Blushing, I lifted my head, eyeing the room. Had anyone seen this? No. Laralie would have mentioned it. She was nosy, so if she had said nothing...

  Biting my tongue, I worked the envelope open. Inside, the same brand of paper I'd touched several times waited for me. It shone in the overhead lights.

  Pet,

  If you want this to end, the choice is yours. Throw out my next gift, and I'll bring this to a close.

  Enjoy the cupcake.

  —S

  Shutting my eyes, I hung my chin low. The note was the first real evidence that made something abundantly clear. Something I'd denied again and again and again.

  The gifts were meant for me!

  Gripping my skirt, I pushed my shoulders into my ears. My muscles were bunching, trying to control the wild rush of heat and nerves that danced inside of me.

  S hadn't made any mistakes. Whoever he was, and whoever he thought I was, this... all of this was for me.

  I'm Pet.

  Snapping my eyes open, I stared at the glimmering cupcake. The 'S' on top looked bigger, heavier than before. This means he knows me. Do I know him?

  Dammit. I really did have a secret admirer! But who? Who could it possibly be?

  Warily, I peered side to side, expecting to find someone watching me. Even in this busy office, I was essentially ignored.

  Caressing the card-stock, I folded it carefully. Next to me the trashcan sat, mouth wide and waiting. Throwing this all away—the letter, the cupcake—would take no effort. Who would know? Who would care?

  My hand with the letter dipped low.

  He would care.

  I hesitated. The cupcake sat there, expectant.

  Lifting the dainty, frosted dessert, I took a bite. Vanilla and sugar exploded on my tongue. It was better than any cupcake I'd ever had. Smooth, rich; I came close to rolling my eyes back in my skull.

  With one last look at the trashcan, I squeezed the letter. It was proof that this game was being played with me.

  With me.

  How could I end it, when I'd only just realized I was actually a player?

  ****

  Inside my locker was a single box. The sight of it ramped up my adrenaline. Had I really missed opening these things so much?

  No. It was more than that.

  For the first time, I knew this gift was for me. That gave the whole experience a new allure. My guilt was gone, the lead in my guts melting into butterflies. What I experienced now was genuine excitement.

  Collecting the box, I drove home, trying not to break the speed limit.

  It had been over a week since the last gift; the lingerie that I now regretted throwing in my trash. I consoled myself by saying I couldn't have known. This was an esoteric game, I'd never been involved in anything like it.

  Casualties were bound to happen.

  I had, however, kept the emerald earrings. They'd gone unnoticed in my car's cup-holder. I'd found them minutes ago when I'd set my coffee into the deep indentation, spilling some when it didn't settle right.

  Crossing my living room, I dropped my coat and keys on the floor. I wasn't thinking about being tidy. Opening the package was an obsession, an itch that needed to be scratched.

  Migrating into my kitchen, I scooted into a chair and placed the box on the round wooden table. Like most of my furniture, it served its purpose, but that was all I could ask of it.

  Reaching down, I noticed my hands were quaking. Easy, easy. Laughing nervously, I made tight fists. When I peeled the tape away, my fingers still trembled.

  The package split open, a heavy object tumbling onto the table. It was thick as a carrot, but shaped like some odd, swooping curve that tapered on one end, wide and blunt on the other.

  Stroking the pliant, magenta surface, I blinked. “What the hell?” There was no one to answer my question. No one but S, perhaps.

  Searching in the box, I found a note.

  Pet,

  This is a special, unique treat that I believe will bring you great pleasure.

  Enjoy it to your heart's content. The idea of that will keep me very, very warm.

  And very hard.

  —S

  Pursing my lips, I folded the paper and put it aside. Lifting the magenta-thing, I twisted it gently in my palms. The small nub on the top of one side was squishy; I prodded it, testing the weight of the device.

  When I gave the base a firm squeeze, it came to life.

  Gasping, I dropped the vibrating object. On top of my kitchen table it buzzed in place, the fat nub wiggling obscenely.

  And then I knew.

  I knew exactly what this was.

  He'd sent me a damn dildo.

  I grabbed the toy, struggling to turn it off. The base had a hidden switch, and after a few presses, the whole thing shut down.

  My kitchen was eerily quiet without the constant buzzing.

  Sweat caught in the pit of my collar bone. He sent me something like THIS? I'd seen sex toys, I wasn't a total prude. But I'd never owned any, and certainly had never been gifted any.

  What did he expect me to do with this?

  Flustered, I bit my lip. Right. I know what he expects. After all, he'd said the thought of it would get him hard.

  It was such a perverse concept. My mind was vibrating harder than the toy had. This is too much. He can't be serious. How bold could one man be?

  Leaning back in my chair, I eyed the toy like it was a snake. Touching it, I jerked my arm back instinctively. Then, breathing into my gut, I cradled it in my palm. The material it was made from was luxurious, not hard plastic.

  Even here, S had extravagant taste.

  Frowning, I studied the object again. Imagining my benefactor buying this with me in mind... it was another facet to this whole game.

  I can't act too oblivious, I told myself. Part of me had to know what this guy was after.

  But what was I after?

  Accepting clothes and jewelry, building up a slow appreciation and knowledge about this stranger... that was safe. That was in my comfort zone. I suppose I thought, with time, I'd meet this S and it would be—

  What? I cut my thoughts off brutally. You thought he'd want to give you flowers and take you on a stroll?

  A man who played clever games and talked about sexy photos, lingerie, and... and sex toys... No. I was a fool to act naive.

  Gripping the vibrator, I sighed. He was taking us to a new level. My stomach was tingling with the idea. Was I ready to go this far?

  Standing, I carried the toy into my bedroom. Just the act of crossing the threshold had me shivering. Did he really picture me using this on myself?

  I traded it to my other hand uneasily. Did he imagine me moaning, writhing until I finally came from his gift?

  How much would that turn him on?

  Blushing, I shoved the dildo into my bedside drawer. I didn't have the guts to trash it, not after thinking about the poor lingerie I'd lost.

  I also wasn't ready to indulge in this side of things.

  Not yet.

  And maybe... never.

  - Chapter Five -

  Alexis

  “You look different.”

  Flinching, I stared up at Laralie as she leaned over my desk. “What?” I asked.

  She pointed to me, smiling slyly. “Your outfit, the way you walk... Oh my gosh, you're seeing someone, aren't you?”

  Scrunching up my eyebrows, I sank low in my chair. “Shh! And no, I'm not. I'm just trying out some new stuff.”

  Her stare said she didn't believe me. How could I blame her?

  In the past few days my clothing had shifted. S had sent me gorgeous shoes, brand name jeans, dresses with layers and even a Burberry coat.

  It was only a matter of time before others noticed.

  Rocking in my seat, I pretended my computer screen was very
interesting. “It's seriously nothing, Laralie.”

  “It's clearly something.”

  “It's not!”

  “It's—”

  A phone call interrupted our banter. Wagging a finger at Laralie to quiet her down, I lifted the receiver. “Salvador and Goldheart, how can I help you?”

  “Yes,” a decidedly male voice said. “I'm looking for Alexis Willow.”

  My back went ramrod straight. Laralie saw, and she hovered close with a curious gleam in her eyes. “Uh, yes. This is Alexis speaking.”

  “Alexis, this is Detective Roose. Do you have a few minutes?”

  A detective? My heart started to thump. “What's this about?”

  I heard him shifting in his chair. “Miss Willow, I'm going over some old files. This may seem abrupt, but you're familiar with the bank robbery at Old Stone, right? Five years back or so?”

  Old Stone.

  I clutched the receiver, the edges of my vision going blurry. Had I heard him right? Yes, there was no doubt. But why... why now, and why ever...

  “Ma'am? Are you there?”

  My ears were burning with a hollow noise. Everything sounded so distant. Laralie was watching me. From her face, I knew I looked terrified.

  Clearing my throat, I whispered, “Sorry, yes, I'm here.”

  “Did you hear my question?”

  Twisting my chair, I half-faced away from Laralie. “Yeah. I remember Old Stone, why are you calling about that?”

  The detective—had he said his name was Roose?—cleared his throat. “I'd rather talk about it in person. I just need a few minutes of your time. Can we meet up this Thursday?”

  Images were rolling through my head. Things I really, truly did not want to think about.

  Not now, and not ever.

  I worked my tongue, forcing words. “What's there to say, it was five years ago. You probably know everything about it.”

  His chuckle was kind, but it did nothing for me. “I really don't want to do this over the phone. Let's just say, some new things have come to light. I can meet you at your office. It's Salvador and Goldheart, right?”

  My jaw tightened. Of course he knew where I worked, he'd called in and found me. I wasn't shocked, but it left me sour. “I guess I don't need to give you the address, do I?”

  He sounded like he was smiling. “I won't take up your day or change your schedule. It would really help me, ma'am. Really.”

  More than anything, I ached to tell him no. That robbery... how could it come back to haunt me? I'd forgotten to breathe, so when I did, it sounded desperate. “Alright. A few minutes on Thursday.”

  “Thank you.” Unless I was mistaken, he was genuinely relieved. “Well, I'll let you go back to your business. See you in a week, Miss Willow.” Then there was just dead air.

  Turning, I set the phone down, fingers cramping.

  “What was that about?” Laralie asked, bending over the top of my desk.

  I stared at her, dazed. “A detective wants to talk to me.”

  She pushed her lips together, eyes becoming huge saucers. “You? What did you do, Alexis?”

  “Nothing.” Fixing my hair, I sighed. “I don't know. It's about...” Shit, even saying the name was a struggle. “You remember the bank robbery at Old Stone?”

  Her face came to life, sparkling with interest. “I knew I heard you say that name! The robbery that wasn't much of a robbery? Of course I remember! What does that have to do with you?”

  I had some idea. I didn't dare say it.

  “I wonder,” she mused out loud.

  I cocked my head. “Go on.”

  “Well!” Splaying her fingers, she grinned in barely held back excitement. “Okay. Maybe this detective is looking for information on Old Stone because of the new bank hacking!”

  I spluttered. “W—what?” Was the room suddenly very warm? “Who hacked another bank? How do you know this?”

  Laralie crinkled her nose. “I don't know who. No one does. And they didn't even manage it, it was just an attempt that triggered the security system or something. It's been all over the news, how have you not heard about it?”

  Truthfully, I'd been so busy with my own sordid, personal game with S, I hadn't turned my TV or radio on in ages.

  I cupped the side of my skull. It was swelling, ready to split. A new hacking? A detective who wanted to meet me? This was all too much. Standing, I dusted myself off. “It's getting late, I'm going to head out.”

  “Aw, Alexis!” Pouting, Laralie crossed her arms. “Don't keep me in the dark. You're becoming very intriguing lately, you know?”

  The smile that crossed my face was thin as ice. “I guess so.”

  I didn't want to be interesting.

  ****

  My mailbox was empty.

  Gawking, I continued to squint into the locker, like I'd manifest a package into existence if I stared long enough.

  Why was there nothing? A single day hadn't gone by where I didn't receive a gift from S. Not since I'd started accepting the packages again, anyway.

  The gaping slot taunted me.

  Something is wrong. Snow flooded my veins, pricking my anxiety. Shutting the mailbox, I walked on numb legs back to my car. Surely this was just a weird mistake. Perhaps he was busy.

  Yes, I admonished myself, climbing into my car. Don't be greedy. It isn't like I should just expect these gifts all the time!

  I kept a structured life. His treats had become part of my routine.

  Shaking myself, I tapped my cheeks. I had to get a grip. I was being silly.

  Laughing at my overreaction, I left the post office. Tomorrow, things would surely go back to normal.

  Except...

  They didn't.

  Day after day, as I ripped open my locker with more desperation, I found nothing inside. Sometimes bills, or junk, but no more packages.

  S had vanished from my life.

  It made no sense, and it had happened so suddenly. I felt like an addict, craving relief but never finding it. His game had wormed under my skin. I didn't know how to turn off my desire, or my depression.

  What had I done to upset him?

  That was the only conclusion. I had done something. Why else would he punish me?

  Punish. I tasted the word, scowling. Was that really it? In what way could I have wronged this man I still hadn't met?

  My week was bleak. One day faded into the next, and when Saturday came, I was swaying into gloom. It was pathetic, I knew that. But I swear, it felt exactly like...

  Like a breakup.

  S had broken up with me. I guess I became boring. The thought was wretched.

  I went back and forth all day, resisting the urge to go to the post office. The clock ticked like it was stuffed with honey. Each hour dragged until I could think of nothing else.

  I was weak.

  And I didn't care.

  The ride to the post office was quick. I'd delayed until the building was near closing time. Rushing, I pulled into the lot so hard my tires kicked up dirt.

  I have to hurry. What if, what if today...

  The slight hope that this time, a gift would be waiting for me, was enough to make me run. Shoving inside, I stared straight at my locker.

  Facing away from me was a man.

  It was that lanky, young guy who worked here, his jacket partially hiding his uniform. He'd opened my locker on top, where the workers could drop the mail inside.

  In his hand... was a letter.

  “It's you,” I gasped, startling him.

  Twisting around, that guy—Kerie—stared at me in disbelief. The letter in his hand crinkled from his tension. “Excuse me?”

  Step by step, I approached him. Rage and confusion tormented my insides. Suddenly, everything was clicking together. “Of course. It's the only way you could put the packages in my locker without addressing them. You're...” I swallowed. “S?”

  His brow knotted, but he didn't move. “No. You've got the wrong idea.”

  I s
topped, my heels digging in. We were mere feet away. “Don't lie to me.” After everything, my mystery admirer would dare try and—

  “I'm serious!” Lifting his arms like I had a gun on him, he offered the letter. “The guy you're talking about? He's been paying me to stick this stuff in your mail. I don't know who he is, but I'm sorry for being so sly. Just please, don't tell my boss.”

  My confidence crumbled. Taking the envelope, I looked from it, to Kerie. No. There was definitely no way this young, nervous man was my S.

  “You met him?” All at once, my ribs became too small. “What's he like?”

  Crookedly smiling, Kerie shrugged. “I don't know. I can't judge guys. I guess he looks fine.”

  “No, not what he looks like, I meant...” It didn't matter. I could tell from Kerie's comment that he would give me nothing. Did I care what S looked like? Maybe somewhere deep down I did, but our connection was woven from something else. Not rock hard abs or chiseled cheekbones, this relationship was—how did I even describe it?

  Fuller. Deeper.

  Meaningful.

  I squeezed the letter, then brushed it softly. “So what, this guy just showed up one day and demanded you put things in my mail?”

  “Kind of. He came in, told me he needed me to slip those packages to you. I tried to explain it was against the rules, but he offered me a lot of money.” His blush was furious. “Really, I'm sorry for playing dumb.”

  It was hard to stay angry. Especially now, with news from S between my fingers. I clutched the letter tightly. “I won't tell anyone. But, if I'm ever in here when he is... promise you'll point him out to me.”

  Kerie shifted side to side, hands in his pockets. “If I can be subtle, okay. I will.”

  That was good enough.

  I started to turn, cradling the square of paper like it was made of glass. Kerie called out to me, stopping my retreat. “Wait!” I turned back. “There's one more thing in here.” Reaching through the top of the locker, he withdrew a slim, long box, about the size of a pillow.

  There was another gift, and I'd almost left it behind.

  “Thanks,” I whispered, taking it gently. My face hurt; when had I begun smiling? “I—I should go. Good night, Kerie.”

  He gave me a brief wave, leaning on the locker until I was long out of sight.

  I wondered what he thought about all of this. For almost a month, he'd been accepting money in exchange for playing the part of a stealthy delivery boy. S was determined to keep his identity secret from me.