Torn Between- Seduced by the Billionaires Read online

  Gently he pulled the strap of her bathing suit down, exposing one breast to his kisses, then the other. Reaching down, he placed his palm over her cleft, enticing her further. Jacqui ran her hands across his chest and allowed her body to enfold underneath him. By the time he slipped the wet, Lycra bikini bottom off her waist, his tongue following the movement, she was rendered immobile. He reached out and turned on the little radio he brought to “add ambiance” to their moment. For a long time Jacqui would remember that as the sweetest touch.

  His mouth ran across her tummy, making her squirm for just a moment. He looked down at the neatly trimmed red triangle below his lips.

  “Jesus,” he gasped, his tongue lapping and kissing her nether lips as the wetness shone on the scarlet hued area.

  “Don’t blaspheme,” Jacqui corrected. Although she realized her actions at the moment were anything but pure, she didn’t want to incur any more of God’s wrath than necessary.

  “I’m not,” Eddie gasped between kisses, his tongue diving into her. The taste of her virginal fluids was something he would always treasure. “It’s holy down here.”

  Jacqui put her head back and felt the waves of pleasure overcome all her doubts and fears. He pulled himself back up, hovering over her body. She felt the head of his shaft rubbing atop her mound, gently separating the flesh.

  “Are you okay?” Eddie asked and looked into her eyes. She nodded, her mouth open, longing for him to kiss her again.

  “I want this,” Jacqui managed to whisper while the pressure and newness coursed through her system. “I want you in me.”

  Eddie smiled and gave her the kiss she desired. There was a stretching, a tension she hadn’t counted on, and yet every second he remained inside her body she welcomed him more. Slowly, he made his way through her opening, stopping when he felt a hint of resistance.

  “This might…” he mumbled, with an apologetic tone.

  “Do it!” she urged, thrusting her hips upward as a sign of readiness and desire. With another deep kiss he pushed all the way through. She sucked in her breath for a moment when the quick twinge happened, feeling her body’s last defense give way to an opening of passion.

  He responded with building speed and the small lunges grew longer and more insistent as time went on. Their bodies were so new and awkward to each other. He would push when she would pull. They laughed at the odd rhythm they found with one another.

  Jacqui’s narrow opening felt the friction of his shaft rubbing and working deep in her, but any discomfort was overridden by the intense wanting for more of this feeling. She couldn’t get enough of the sensation. Kissing and talking gave way to the desperate panting of ragged breath. Eddie’s movement changed to sharper bursts; her sore channel registered each one acutely.

  “Stay in me,” she said softly. “Stay inside me and give me everything.”

  Relieved to know for sure, he resumed the short thrusts and her body sped up to accommodate this last charge against her innocence. Then he stopped, a groan escaping his lips. His arms went weak for a moment, and he collapsed on top of her—their wet and sweaty bodies melting together.

  When he slid to the side, his withdrawal left her feeling emptier than she would ever feel in her life. She was already longing for the next time he would fill her. They listened to the radio side-by-side on the towels in silence—an occasional click, probably part of the static on the radio, was their only interruption.

  Simon tried to be careful; snapping the pictures with 35mm camera Eddie gave him only when the song on the radio was loud. Photographing the scene had left him with his own urgent erection and clouded his thinking. The first time he filmed them, he shot the entire roll. Later Eddie advised him there would be a lot of opportunities with different events and angles so just take a few pictures. Processing these kinds of pictures was hidden, expensive, and touchy. If Simon wanted the camera like Eddie promised, he needed to be more circumspect.

  Throughout the long, hot summer Eddie played the rollercoaster ride. He’d pull away and then she’d promise him more if he’d go “swimming” with her once again. Simon kept vigil in the wooded hedge. The pictures were priceless: the future President of the Alpha Chapter of Kappa Delta on her knees giving a local intern the blow job of a lifetime, some 69 on a cloudy day and the pinnacle—a shot from behind of Eddie spreading her cheeks, entering her most private space. Simon nearly fell out of the hedge taking that one; a sound Eddie conveniently explained as an overly curious raccoon.

  Short days saw both lovers back to their respective universities and if anyone suspected their summer was anything more than good ol’ fun in the sun, no one ever said. In time, Eddie started working in the accounting department two floors below his father, and the newspapers all recorded the opulent day Jacqueline Beverly Benloch became Mrs. Jacqueline Benloch-Howell, wife of Thomas Winston Howell, an electronics magnet of the first order.

  Six years to the day Eddie first put his lips on that providential red triangle of hair, the Grafton Gazette held a tragic story above the fold. Roger Benloch, Sr. and his only son, Roger Benloch, Jr. had been killed in a tragic boating accident. Also deceased was the captain of the small boat they chartered, a man named Simon Saenz. Later tests would reveal the captain had narcotics in his system and the engine had been missing several directional gears before the crash. The unregistered boat did not appear to belong to Saenz, and where it came from was a mystery time would never solve.

  A few weeks later, Eddie asked to see Jacqui in private to give her his condolences. She probably agreed because she didn’t remember his name, and she was very distracted trying to figure out what to do as Benloch Pharmaceutical’s sole heir. She remembered him as he walked through the door, the pang and desire of her first time aching between her legs even as she handed her toddler to a nanny and extended her hand to greet him.

  He licked his lips while he followed her thin frame into a private sitting room. Her body had born a son to her husband, yet didn’t look more than five minutes older than the sunny summer days it stretched beneath Eddie, surging with his lust. Her hair was still fire.

  “I understand you inherited all of Benloch Pharma,” Eddie said casually after the proper condolences were made. Jacqui was taken aback by the rudeness of the comment and the directness by which it was brought forth.

  “Yes, I have,” she diverted her eyes to the wall. “I would give it all back to have Dad and Roger with me again.”

  “I’m sure you would,” Eddie replied in kind. It was the last humane thing he would ever say to Jacqueline Benloch-Howell. “But you’re not going to give it back. You’re going to give it to me.”

  “What?” Jacqui sat straight in her chair, her eyes matching the fire that framed her.

  “You are giving the company to me. Well, my father actually. We’ll buy it, of course. For a song.”

  “You’ve lost your mind. Get out of my house this instant!” She rose and pointed toward the door. He didn’t move a muscle.

  “Before you do something you regret, Mrs. Benloch-Howell, you better sit back down.” Eddie regained control of the situation before her rear hit the chair. “I inherited something, too. From Simon Saenz. You know, the man who killed your father.”

  “I know who Simon Saenz is,” she hissed. “What did you get from him? A meth lab?”

  “Better,” Eddie grinned. He opened the folder tucked neatly under his arm. It was a lie, naturally. He had always been in possession of the grainy 35mm shots, more than once using them as prime personal-relief material, but letting her think he just found the photos kept any further suspicion away. “Apparently Simon was a bit of an amateur photographer.”

  “Why would I possibly care about that? And what does it have to do with my company?”

  “MY company,” Eddie corrected. One-by-one he placed the photos on her coffee table as what little color her skin held drained onto the fine carpet. “I, personally, like the oral shots the best. Instead of signing your society pledges
‘JB Howell’ you can start signing them ‘BJ’ once these make the rounds.”

  “Oh. My. God.” It was all she could say as mental images of her entire life, her family, and her children all came crashing down around her.

  “Don’t blaspheme,” Eddie chuckled, remembering a moment she had forgotten.

  In the end, it wasn’t what she thought her husband would say, or even the potential for her to be drummed out of Washington’s high society that led her to sell the company to the very newly formed “Dunning Research Group.” It was simply the knowledge that what is seen can’t be unseen. The fire of her desire turned to ice that very day. Though she stayed married the rest of her life, the house on the hill remained way too cold for love.

  Eddie looked down at the phone which so recently felt the frigid sting of Cami’s rejection and vowed to turn his fortune around. After all, he was the dealer, and a game like this is always the dealer’s choice.

  ***

  Dr. Sovich squeezed his barrel chest into the small framed chair and folded his legs underneath the tiny table at the Coffee Carol kiosk. He was as uncomfortable as the topic he was about to spring on Tyler, but thankful his employer hadn’t dragged him out of the lab into an open, public park this time.

  “We have to stop, Tyler, yes? It is enough,” the scientist pleaded.

  “Stop? We can’t stop,” Tyler replied, annoyed. “I’ve put half my company on the line for this formula. I’ve risked our stability and our reputation. Dunning is circling like a shark that smells blood. It needs to work, Andrew.”

  “Just because it needs to does not mean it will.” The Russian tried to lean back in the chair only to lose his balance and nearly topple over backwards. A strong set of hands pushed him back into position.

  “Easy there, big guy,” Jasmine soothed as she used every ounce of strength in her body to keep the large man from taking up space on the floor. “We aren’t insured for giants.”

  “Thank you, Jasmine,” Tyler breathed a sigh of relief. The vision of Dr. Sovich, his company’s only hope, sprawled on the tile of the building’s coffee shop was the only thing that could possibly be worse than the news Andrew Sovich was giving him.

  “Can I getcha anything else, Mr. Bach?” The young woman asked with a twinkle in her eye. Tyler waved her off. She turned her back to the men and started cleaning a nearby table. One of the most valuable lessons her years as a barista brought Jasmine was the fact that if you aren’t looking at someone, they don’t think you can hear them.

  “There are significant changes in the brains of these mice. I have isolated the compounds that might be causing it, but not how to eliminate it,” Dr. Sovich struggled with both his English and his explanation. Finally, he went for the simple approach. “This formula will cure a cold, Tyler. Then, it will kill you.”

  “Can you interrupt that cycle? Just do the curing part and not the killing?” Tyler chuckled as he batted away any notion that his billion-dollar bet wasn’t going to pan out. Dr. Sovich sighed and shook his head.

  “I have a few more things to try. I have a…what do you call it…a…um…”

  “A miracle?” Tyler blurted. Stress had never been his friend.

  “A…notion…a…hunch? ‘Hunch’ is right?” The doctor asked.

  Tyler mumbled a disappointed affirmation. “Yes, that’s right.”

  “I have a hunch I want to pursue. But, it is no sure thing. I have put all the information about the formula, what it contains, and why it is failing in this folder. Guard this. Someday another scientist better than me can maybe make your dreams come true.”

  “Are you leaving? Are you giving up?” Tyler took the medical folder Sovich slid across the table and placed his hands on top of it as if the gesture somehow made it invisible.

  “Not yet.” The doctor looked around to see if anyone was watching. He knew Tyler met in the coffee kiosk because he felt there was a spy or bug in his office, but for a man like Sovich being in the open was the least safe place of all. “I have some more work to try. But, soon.”

  The men finished their conversation chatting about how much Sovich despised living in the city and wanted to find a country home when the lab didn’t require his constant attention. Tyler offered the names of several good realtors, but the doctor didn’t seem to pay attention to any of them. They parted with a handshake. Sovich went out the revolving door, shielding his eyes from the bright sun. Tyler got into the elevator, heading back to Dyes Industries. Jasmine counted all the way to 100-Mississippi before pulling out her phone.

  “It doesn’t work, Mr. Eddie,” Jasmine bubbled as soon as the call connected. “It doesn’t work and the doctor is leaving and everything about everything is all in this folder the doctor gave Mr. Bach and it looks like a really good day for you.”

  “Slow down,” Eddie commanded. “Young people are always in such a hurry. Start at the beginning. What doesn’t work?”

  “The thing. The thing that you wanted information on,” Jasmine stopped for a second to try to replay the conversation in her head. It was enough of a moment of clarity to reveal that although Jasmine had proven resourceful, she really didn’t know what she was doing.

  “What do you mean, the doctor is leaving?” Eddie gripped the side of his desk as his house of cards began to wobble.

  “He says he has a little more work to do then he wants to move to the country and raise chickens or something,” Jasmine explained. Eddie breathed an instant sigh of relief. Sovich wasn’t planning to leave; he was just fantasizing about escape. Jasmine went through the conversation as clearly as she could remember it. He listened intently, refusing to let his excitement get the better of him until he had all the facts.

  “Did you see anything inside the folder? Did it look like copies or original writing?” he asked. The documents in the folder Sovich dropped off at The Spreader Bar two days ago were all copies. If he could get Tyler’s folder and it contained the originals, or at least matched the notes Eddie had, he would know Sovich and the formula were still under his control.

  “Are you crazy, Mr. Eddie? I didn’t see inside the folder! I was pretending to clean up.” Jasmine rolled her eyes. The fat cats think this info business is so damn easy, but it takes a lot of common sense none of them seem to possess.

  “All right, all right.” Eddie soothed. “I’ll send over a check by this afternoon. Now, how would you like to make more in one evening than your manager makes in a year?”

  “Keep talking,” Jasmine encouraged. She had no idea how much her manager made in a year, but she liked the sound of it all the same.

  “Get me that folder.”

  ***

  Tyler Bach had always been a careful man. Too careful, to hear his ex-wife tell it. Staring at the folder on top of his desk, he begged time to take him back to the days before he decided to play chicken with Eddie Dunning over the abyss of bankruptcy and shame. He heard Cami’s signature tap and had just enough time to put the folder into his top desk drawer before she entered.

  “I have the schedules you wanted for the lab and the meeting set up for the convention. I need you to sign some purchase orders and you need to dictate a letter for the cover of the convention welcome book.” Cami bustled in and plopped down in her customary chair.

  “Hello beloved,” Tyler looked up and smiled weakly. “How have you been?”

  “Hello. Now, to work?” Cami had been so busy dodging Eddie’s sexual advances she had accidentally been stuffing Tyler’s attention in the ice box as well. “I mean. I’m fine. I miss you, and I’ll be glad when things settle down to a time when we can just be us again.”

  “A time when we can just be us, there’s a dream come true,” Tyler cooed wistfully.

  “Are you okay?”

  “The cure doesn’t work,” Tyler confessed, holding his tears in with everything he had.

  “What?” Cami’s heart sank. All this time, all this nonsense, all that money—for nothing.

  “Well, it works,” Tyle
r corrected, remembering Dr. Sovich’s analysis. “Then, apparently, it kills you.”

  “Not good,” Cami nodded. “Not good at all.”

  “I’ve put almost everything into the cure,” Tyler began, edging dangerously close to emotional collapse. “I’ve invested everything—heart, soul, money, status—in three things: Andrew Sovich, the cure, and you. Now I feel like I’m losing them all.”

  Tyler put his head on the desk, now struggling to keep his disappointment limited to a few tears and not a flood. Cami left her folders in the chair and moved to wrap her arms around her embattled lover.

  “Shhhh, now,” she said compassionately. “You’re not losing me. I’ve been distant because of all the drama around the cure. I don’t want it infecting our relationship. This is just a season. It won’t last forever.”

  Tyler lifted his head and wiped a few tears from the corner of his eye. Placing his hand on her face, he kissed her, letting his lips linger on hers. She returned his sweet kisses, feeling the calm surety of his love return between them. She tried to control her thoughts, but soon she was thinking of Eddie, and how he would have had his hand on her head at this point, bending her toward his cock. Tyler would never presume to do that to her. Maybe that was the problem.

  Reaching down, Cami let her hand run over Tyler’s pants, her wiggling fingers trying to stimulate some interest. She moved her body in rhythm with her kisses, wanting to transform the energy of his sadness into fuel for his passion. She reached for his zipper, but he put his hand on top of hers, stopping the flow of the moment.

  Tyler spoke with feather soft words tinged in regret. “I have to see Rachel tonight. Kendra’s daughter’s baby is due at any time and even though we are divorced, Rachel has the right to know what’s going on. She may be a grandmother soon.”

  “Can’t you call her on the phone?” Cami asked, moving his hand to the side, continuing to try to rub some life into her lover’s flaccid member. “The baby’s not coming right now.”