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THE BILLIONAIRE'S AFFAIR 192
The first thing we had to do was wash my hair so Javier could cut it.He gave me two fancy plastic bottles with French written on them. “I want you to lather and rinse twice with the shampoo – really work it into your scalp. Then put the conditioner all over your hair, from your scalp to the tips. Leave it in for three minutes, then wash it out. Do you have a robe?”I winced. “Um… it’s kind of ratty…”“How did I guess?” Sebastian muttered.“I didn’t know I was going to do a makeover show, jackass.”“Just come out wrapped in a towel, I need access to your shoulders anyway,” Abby said. “But before you go in, I need to strip off your makeup first.”“Um… is that necessary?”“Yes. It is.”I sighed and let her get to work with cotton balls and some sort of makeup remover. As she worked, she gave me more directions.“I’m going to give you two bottles. Use the bigger one on your body with a washcloth, and exfoliate gently. The smaller one use on your face with just your hands, and do NOT rub
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Abby pep-talked me the entire time she worked her magic.“Your face is a wonderful canvas,” she said as she did about twenty-five more steps than I normally do before I walk out of my apartment in the mornings. “You have really good structure. Like Tyra Banks or Uma Thurman.”“Yeah, right,” I scoffed.“You only see them after they’ve had people like me working on them for an hour… or two… or three or four,” she said with a sly smile. Then she went back to being earnest. “I was really happy when Tyra started releasing pictures of herself without makeup. She did this book on beauty and makeup years and years ago, and that was the first time she ever allowed herself to be photographed without makeup – so women could see what she really looks like. And since then she’s been a lot more open about it. Don’t get me wrong, she’s still cute without it… but she could walk past you on the street and you’d never take a second look at her. And don’t get me started on Uma. Or anybody else you might
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I walked past the waiting lines of limos and wondered if this was what Academy Awards night looked like. It was crazy.I made my way past the valets, whose heads kept swiveling so hard I thought they might get whiplash. I wasn’t sure whether it was because of my makeover or because they might have recognized me from the news. Either way they were all polite, and I entered the lobby undisturbed.The Dubai’s lobby was just as luxurious as the first night I’d seen it. Even more so, since the opulent surroundings were filled with men in tuxes and women in evening gowns – most of them gorgeous, others daring, a few ill-advised, but all of them worth more than I used to make in a year as a secretary. There were famous faces everywhere, too: movie stars, television stars, rock stars, all of them mixed in amongst dozens of older men and women I’d never seen before, whom I figured were instantly recognizable to anybody who read Forbes Magazine.Except for one quartet in the middle of the lobby
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I stood there trying to psyche myself up.This was the reason I was here. This was the reason I’d gotten all dolled up. This was what I had told Sebastian I wanted more than anything else in the world.And I was terrified.A thousand terrible ‘what-ifs’ floated through my mind. What if he got angry? What if he cold-shouldered me? What if he was mean? What if he laughed at me?What if he didn’t even care?I told myself that was bullshit. Sebastian and Johnny had both told me he had been miserable for the last month; only an idiot would think it had nothing to do with me. He had cared enough to make Sebastian call Scott Shaw and get him to give me a shot.He just didn’t care enough to call YOU, the evil little voice in my head reminded me.But then the good angel whispered, So what?So what if he hadn’t called? Maybe he thought I should have called him. Seeing as I’d never bothered to call to thank him for the job advice and referral, maybe he thought I was the one being cold and aloof.
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We entered a service hallway of some sort, long and white and lit by fluorescent lights. Waiters and waitresses in black vests and crisp white shirts shuttled back and forth to the ballroom carrying silver platters of drinks and hors-d’oeuvres. They watched in shock as we walked by them, their heads turning as we passed.Not every day you see a walking sex scandal, I guess.There was a loud clack behind us and the tap tap of running shoes. We turned back to see Johnny entering the hallway through the same door we’d used. At first he looked panicked – until he spotted us thirty feet away. He gave Connor an admonishing schoolmarm look, then followed along discretely at a distance.“I can’t ever get rid of that guy,” Connor joked.“And you shouldn’t,” I scolded him.“I was afraid he was going to pull me back to the party.”My step faltered the tiniest bit. “Do you… want to go back?”“Oh hell no,” he grinned, and let his hand trace down to the curve of my ass. Then his expression froze a
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He swept me into the bedroom, my hands pulling at his tuxedo jacket buttons as I stumbled backwards, his hands supporting me so I wouldn’t fall. The entire time he kissed me fervently, relentlessly. I sighed and moaned as his hands edged beneath my dress, caressing my breasts, and then he smothered my moans with more kisses.He pulled the thin straps of my dress off my shoulders, and I felt the cloth slide down across my body and cascade at my feet. His arms reached around and unsnapped my strapless bra, and then he was kissing my bare breasts and licking my nipples. He knelt in front of me, kissing my stomach as he went, then hooked his fingers through my underwear and pulled them down to my ankles. I ran my fingers through his hair and closed my eyes in ecstasy as he kissed my thighs, then between them, his lips brushing lightly over the down of hair between my legs. His tongue gently touched my clit, circled it twice, stoking my fires, teasing me – and then he pressed his face aga
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He started slowly again, rocking inside me, letting me feel the pressure of his cock filling me up. I moaned and sighed, and he kissed me softly, romantically as I trailed my fingers lightly through his hair, down along his shoulders, and across his muscular back.“Lily,” he whispered in my hear.“What,” I whispered back, my eyes closed, my body lost in a dream of pleasure.“I want you to tell me when you start getting close again. Not right up on the edge of coming – earlier, when you start getting close.”I opened my eyes and looked at him as he moved in and out of me. “I think you’ll be able to tell,” I teased him.“Just tell me when it starts to build,” he ordered, his voice husky and low.I frowned and smiled all at the same time. “What are going to do?”“I’m going to sexually enslave you,” he grinned, and licked and nibbled my lips and tongue.“You’ve already done that,” I whispered.“Mmm… you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”Whoa.My mind boggled at the thought.“In the meantime… I’m g
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He worked on me in the elevator, too, alternating kisses (and well-placed caresses) with requests.“Come on.”“No,” I giggled as he nibbled my ear.“Are you coming back to the party?”I pushed him away at arm’s length and gave him an Are you serious?! look. “With my makeup like this? Hell no.”He grinned with self-satisfaction. “What? You just look like a beautiful woman who’s had the time of her life.”“Ohhhh, aren’t we self-congratulatory!” I said, and tapped the tip of his nose with my finger.“Well, I figured it was classier than saying ‘had her brains fucked out.’”“Yes, although the second part’s true, too,” I said, stood up on tiptoe, and bit his lower lip softly.He grunted… and then leaned over and hit the STOP button on the control panel.The elevator rapidly slowed and came to a halt.“Connor?” I asked, slightly alarmed.“We need to talk for a second,” he said.There wasn’t the annoying, clanging alarm that you normally hear in an elevator when someone stops it. I didn’t re
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