Playboy Billionaire

“Don't tell my brother you saw me.”

“Ah hell no,” Reese said with a laugh. “No way would I tell your brother anything. As far as he knows, I've never seen you outside the times we've been at your house together. And this Maya – this sexier version I never knew existed – will remain a secret too.”

/> I smiled. “Good. My family doesn't need to know about this.”

“Your secret is safe with me, baby,” he said.

His voice was as smooth as chocolate and it dripped with sensuality. It was as if he knew he held me rapt in some magic spell. He probably did – or at least knew how to seduce a woman and was very good at it. There was no way I was his first.

Reese leaned in and kissed me, as he ran his hands through my long hair. He held my face and kissed me the way I'd always wanted him to kiss me. Then his hands moved down, over my body and for a moment, I feared we might not make it back to his place.

But Reese pulled away, leaving my mouth and my body yearning for more. I whimpered as he pulled away, my eyes wide as I stared at him, wanting him with every inch of my body.

“We should get going,” he said.

He took my hand in his, and together, we walked out of the club – which was pretty much empty, except for a few employees cleaning up the mess that had been left behind. No one even noticed as the two of us walked out of the club together. I was probably not the first woman Reese escorted out of the club after work. And hell, I probably wouldn't be the last. But it didn't matter. I was getting my wish. My one desire.

ooo000ooo

Reese lived down the street from the club, right in the heart of downtown Chicago. The part of town my parents told me to avoid, of course. But what did they know? I was a big girl now. Besides, what they didn't know wouldn't hurt them in the least.

We walked into his building – which was situated above a liquor store, tucked away upstairs.

“Sorry, no elevator. Old building,” he said as we started up the stairs, “But I'm only on the 2nd floor.”

“That's fine,” I said, cursing my heels and wishing I had worn more suitable shoes. After a long night at the club, my feet were begging for sweet relief.

We reached his apartment door on the second floor and Reese unlocked it. Apartment 207. For some reason, I'd always wondered where he lived and had sometimes imagined what it would look like. I knew he didn't live like my family did – in a nice, two story house in the suburbs – but I always wondered what his life might be like. Part of my interest in Reese was that he was so different than me. I'd never met someone like him before. All of the guys I went to school with were preppy and well-off, living in houses that resembled my own. We were all very much the same, living the same cookie cutter existences – but Reese was different.

I think that's what caught Luke's attention too. My brother so badly wanted to be someone else, to not be the loser in a family of winners. Reese offered him that, but little did Luke know, Reese was still the better person. Because in the end, Reese could hold down a job and lived relatively well for someone on his own in the city. Unlike my brother, Reese wasn't relying on somebody else to buy his toilet paper for him.

Reese's apartment wasn't what I expected, though. I guessed that I'd sort of figured flashy car and the expensive shoes meant he was well-off. But he lived in a studio apartment that was a little beat up and run down. There was a futon folded down into a bed already against one wall, a 52-inch flat screen tv hanging on the wall opposite the bed. And there was an Xbox hooked up beneath it. He had expensive electronics, but everything else seemed to be somewhat lacking.

Perhaps it was less about not having the money, however, and more about where his priorities were at.

“Want something to drink?” he asked, opening up the fridge. He pulled out a beer and offered it to me.

“Uhh no thanks,” I said. “Just some water, please.”

Reese reached over his head into the cabinet above the fridge and pulled out a plastic cup that said Bernie's Burgers on it. He handed it to me and I just stared at him blankly.

“Oh, sorry, I don't have any ice or anything,” he mumbled.

“Oh, okay.”

I walked into the kitchen and turned on the tap, filling up the cup. My hands were shaking to the point that I was slopping water out of the cup – I just didn't exactly know why they were shaking so badly.

“You know, maybe I'll take a beer instead,” I said, biting my lip.

Deep down, I was hoping the beer might calm my nerves a bit – or just numb them altogether. I needed to loosen up. I came to Reese's knowing what was likely going to happen, and yet, there I was – terrified. I needed to chill out, relax a bit. Maybe a beer would do the trick, even if I hated the taste.

“Here ya go, beautiful,” he said, handing me the beer.

I put the cup in the sink, and Reese took my hand again, this time leading me into the room that served as his living room and bedroom. He smiled at me – that boyish smile that often caused me to go weak in the knees.

He gave me an enigmatic, but still somehow salacious smiled. “Come over here, sexy.”

Not like I was going anywhere. Not now, anyway. I followed him over to his futon, which was actually really comfortable once we sat down upon it. It was softer and fluffier than I imagined it to be. And the view from his bed was of the city street – which was alive and full of people and cars. Even at that hour. It was nice, actually. Not what I was used to, but it was nice.