Yes, Mr. Van Der Wells (Not Another Billionaire Romance) (56 page)

“Gloriel, it’s dirty money,” I remind her. “Would you advise your
son
to take dirty money?”

She stares at me straight. “If his father was murdered and there were zero attempts at justice for his life? Yes, I would advise him to take it. Because he would deserve every penny.”

My eyes cut to Graham. “Did you take yours?”

He reply is swift. “Dad died for that, sis. His life is overpayment for penance. Hell yeah, I took what he left me. You call it dirty money, I call it justice money.”

“Your father loved you, Charlotte,” Sarah says. “By the time he wanted to do right, it was too late. He was caged in, blackmailed, and manipulated. There was no way out. All he could do was take precautions for when his great fall came, do right by you and your brother.”

Gripping the back of the chair, I feast on my lip as I mull over what the hell these people are advising me to do. They don’t need to assure me Dad loved me. I know that. I was his little girl. He loved me with all his heart. He told me so. The revelation that he’d been funding a back-up plan for Graham and me for sixteen years is enough to make me want to mourn him all over again.

On the one hand, I want to sing and jump for joy and do the Gangnam Style, because this is a
huge
net. This means I’m caught, saved, and pulled from the mossy mire, by none other than the man who tossed me in it to begin with. This means I don’t have to worry about college and law school tuitions. This means…
a lot
.

On the other hand, I have to think about everything said money caused: Mom’s death, Dad’s death, my abuse, a year of anxiety and fear and ever-flowing tears. Do I want it? Do I want to think about Dad and his demise every time I spend a dime?

“I don’t know,” I mumble to no one in particular. “I just…I need to think about it.”

“That’s absolutely fine,” Sarah quickly responds, relief cuddled with hope gripping the edges of her voice. “Think about it. If you decide not to take it, it will go to your brother.”

“And I’ll just find a way to give it right back to her,” Graham fires, shooting his mother a displeased look.

Gloriel’s lips are pursed, her head shaking at me.

Head spinning, I thank them for dinner and all but run back to my suite.

Tossing my purse aside, I strip down to my underwear, grab a Snickers bar from the fridge, and plod off to the bedroom, crawling under the covers.

Thoughts of Mom, Dad, and my dirty millions dance around in my head as I chew off the entire Snickers bar. Crashing into a dead-end with my thoughts, I get my cell and text Noah.

Me:
Back at the suite. In a funk. Need ur tongue.

Noah:
Is that all I’m worth to you? Giving you good head?

Me:
Excellent.

Noah:
???

Me:
U give *excellent* head.

Noah:
What’s got you in a funk?

Me:
Will tell u after u get ur ass back here & make me come.

Noah:
And now I’m hard.

Me:
Just the way I like it ;)

Noah:
Will wrap this up and be at your service in a few.

Me:
K.

Noah:
I love you.

Closing out of his messages, I text my BFF. 

Me:
Whatchya doing?

Kiera:
On lockdown with Muscles…

Kiera:
He’s tryna force me 2 do the whole ‘relationship’ talk.

Me:
How’s that working out?

Kiera:
Bad. In a good way.

Kiera:
We’re warring via sex.

Me:
HOW? Aren’t u on ur P?

Kiera:
Lady P doesn’t bother him. Told
me 2 stick a tampon up there, & then anal, clit-play, & blow-jobs. 

Me:
1 word, 5 letters: GROSS.

Kiera:
Some really *gross* orgasms we’re having.

Me:
LMAO.

Me:
Have something huge 2 tell u…but u r on lockdown so 2moro.

Kiera:
What is it? Noah asked u 2 marry him & u said yes?!

Me:
LOL. Noooo. But he did tell me…those words.

Kiera:
Those words?! 0_0

Me:
Yep.

Kiera:
No. Way. How dumb is he? Falling in love with a nut like u?

Me:
Love is foolish.

Kiera:
So… M is rock-hard *again*, & irritated bcaz am texting u instead of blowing him. TTYL.

Noah doesn’t return “in a few.” He returns almost two hours later.

Having slept for the majority of the day, I’m wide awake, watching
Impractical Jokers.
Noah shadows the bedroom door, looking the complete opposite of how he looked this afternoon:
Content
.

“Hey,” he murmurs, hauling his V-neck sweater over his head as he approaches the bed.

Pointing the remote at the television, I hit mute. “‘Will wrap this up and be at your service in a few,’ he tells me.”

His sweater hits the floor. “I
did
wrap it up and was on my way to you. But Mom intercepted me…”

Sitting up against the headboard now, I guess, “She told you, didn’t she?”

“After insisting I have a drink with her. Got me buzzed so she could try to manipulate me,” he says through a chuckle, hands working at his belt buckle. “She wants me to convince you to take it.” 

“And…and what do you think?” I ask, distracted…by his hands and the sound his belt buckle undoing.

Ziiiip
, goes his zipper.
Thud
, goes his pants as they hit the ground. “I think you should do whatever you want.” He’s at the side of the bed now, his bulge aligned with my face. “Take it, don’t take it. Either way, I’ve got you covered.”

Eyes transfixed on the hard-on straining against his tiny white boxers, I’m only half-listening, half-invested in this conversation.

Soon, my face is being elevated as he fixes an index finger under my chin and forces me to meet his stare. God, he’s so damn hot. Ripped abs just inches from my lips. His chest—my all-time favorite part of him—taut, hard, mesmerizing. Green flickering flames for eyes. So. In. Love. With. Him.

“The decision is up to you, babe. You can refuse the money and let me take care of you
without
arguments or choose to have your own funds, so you don’t have to think twice about telling me to kiss your ass whenever I demand head, anal, or threesomes and you don’t feel like it.”

Unintentionally, instinctively, my tongue glides across my bottom lip. “I’ll never
not
feel like giving you head, I’m always up for a threesome, and I’ve always been curious about anal. So, epic fail on your part if this is your ridiculously lame attempt to convince me to take the cash.”

He studies me for four or five heartbeats, before his eyes coat over with a challenge, an eyebrow lifting ever so slightly. Hands moving to the waistband of his boxers, he shoves them down his hips.

One hand grips his length and begins to stroke, while the other shoots out and grabs a fistful of my hair, forcing my head toward his stroking fist. “
Polish my hardwood,
Slutty Housemaid.”

I swallow, needing a bib because I’m damn near drooling at the sight of his blunt, blood-engorged head,
dying
to have it in my mouth. Yet, when I raise my eyes to his, what comes out is, “Kiss. My. Ass.” Then I smile something taunting. “Look at that, I’m broker than MC Hammer, and I just told you to kiss my ass without thinking twice.” Pushing up to my knees, I jab a finger at his chest. “You can’t douchebag me into making the decision you want me to make, douchebag.”

In the next second, I’m crushed to him and his tongue is in my mouth. Whiskey and something sweet is marinated in his tongue, and I lap it all up, sucking every last bit of taste off his tongue. Before long, I’m falling back on the bed as he rips his mouth from mine and shoves me backward, his weight on me in the next second.

He grabs my wrists and pins them above my head. “Why do you constantly challenge every good thing that comes your way?”

“Because not everything that glitters is gold,” I feed him. “Not every nicely wrapped package should be opened.”

“No, not every package,” he agrees. “Just the ones from a trusted sender with
your name
on it.”

My legs aren’t pinned, so I wrap them around his waist. “Why are you
for
me taking the money?”

“Because I love you and I want you to have a worry-free life. You’ve already had three years of hell. I want you happy, I want you smiling, I want you independent, I want you to have the world. If I believed you’d take whatever I offer you, it wouldn’t matter to me whether you take the fund or not, but I know you’ll fight me at every turn whenever I offer you stuff. You’ll insist on working to pay your school fees and buying your own things. All that will lead to is frequent arguments between us, and that’s not what I want for us. I don’t want our relationship to be about us constantly fighting about money.” I feel his erection twitch against my belly. “So for the sake of us, please, Lotty, just take the damn money.”

I chew my lip as if it’s a Bubbalicious gum, thinking that everything he just said is right. I can’t see myself mooching off him or Gloriel. I’d want to earn my own, and this would most definitely mean arguments because Noah would want to
give
me whatever I need. And I’d never take it. School wouldn’t be cheap, that’s for sure, so I’d more than likely be working two jobs to pay for that. Again, something Noah wouldn’t tolerate. He would want to take care of my schooling, and I wouldn’t accept it.

I can’t help it. It’s just who I am.

“For the sake of us?” I whisper.

His relief, as he realizes he’s made a breakthrough with me, is almost palpable. “For the sake of us.”

“Can we try anal tonight?”

His head jerks, suffering a whiplash from the sudden careen of conversation, but he recovers almost instantly. “You don’t want my tongue anymore?”

“Of course,” I reply with a teasing grin. “In my anus.”

His lips begin to curve, but he quickly sinks his teeth down to stop it. Head dipping, he kisses my chin, my neck, down my cleavage, my stomach tightening and releasing with impatient need.

This man makes me feel all kinds of ineffable, unfathomable, indefinable things and feelings and strange emotions. He makes me want to stretch my arms out wide and free-fall into his soul. Drown in his love. Die in his heart. He’s what I wasn’t looking for. What I thought I didn’t need. Until I woke up one day and found myself buried deep in love with him. And I pray, sweet gracious Father, I
pray
it stays this way forever.

He unpins my hands, but only long enough for him to bodily flip me over onto my stomach, grip my hips and pull me onto my knees, butt pointed in the air. I let out a moan. When he’s this rough, it only serves to get me even wetter.

My panties are then torn off, and I brace for and embrace the hard slap on my ass, the stinging sensation lingering long after. He loves to do that because he loves my ass, so I’ve learned to expect an ass-slap the moment I’m in a position such as this.

Two fingers plunge inside me, and this is smoothly ensued by his slick, warm tongue in my anus.
Sweet sugar tamarind
, I’m on cloud nine, cloud ten, cloud eleven. I’m singing raunchy, perverted hymns and baptizing nine-inch penises.
Sex heaven
.