The Philanthropist (Trillionaire Boys' Club Book 5) Read online

  I meant what I said. I thought about Jamie every minute of my flight. I thought about her face and her body and her mind and her moxie. I want to fuck them all. I want to devour her. To make every bit of her mine.

  To hell with Barnes.

  To hell with the board.

  Nobody tells me what to do.

  “Spread your pussy. Show me how much you want me.”

  Jamie does. She licks a finger — wets her slit, then drags the digit along her opening, showing me what I’m desperate to see.

  My cock twitches in my hand. I don’t even know what I’m doing. It’s all a jumble. Did I come for sex? Or something else? I want to take her shopping and dress her like a doll. Take her out and show her off. I want nothing more than this evening. But that’s next, after the sex.

  I’ve never craved the after.

  What’s happening to me?

  “Come here,” she purrs.

  She’s laid back on a couch that probably costs more than an economy car. If she’s not careful, she’ll knock over a cartographer’s stand with her free arm as soon as I start fucking her. Near us is an antique-looking globe. When she comes and calls my name, they’ll hear her all the way in its gilded relief of Madagascar.

  I slip into Jamie’s pussy as I lay atop her. Her warmth clutches my cock. I look down, watching my shaft disappear inside her. This won’t take long. I could come right now. And it’s worse — or better — when she begins to move beneath me.

  I thrust, fighting the onrush of nerves threatening to hurl me over the edge. I’m inside her all the way, warm like a full-length kiss.

  When I pull back for each new thrust, I miss her.

  She’s my world. My everything.

  She buries her face in my throat, nibbling at me. I’m in her hair, at her ears, along the long curves of her neck. We gather speed as I’m losing my center. There is only sensation and sound. Exertion and sweat. Only Jamie. Only this moment.

  I come. So does she.

  We climax as one, and for seconds we’re weightless.

  We grip each other like lifelines — like we’re both seeking something, and believe in each other as our only possible answer. It’s absurd. But for that moment, I believe it.

  We slip down as the feeling retreats. But this time it doesn’t go all the way, settling into a comfortable ball at our feet. I still want her as my cock goes flaccid, but in a new way.

  How dare Barnes interfere in my life. How fucking dare he.

  Jamie looks around the storeroom. “We really should get out of here.”

  “In time,” I reply, my arms around her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  JAMIE

  AIDEN TAKES ME TO A restaurant for dinner, one that’s like nothing I’ve seen.

  The place is tiny, immaculately decorated, filled with all-white flowers. It’s in the same luxurious plaza as the pretentious furniture store, but despite its policies (no more than three couples for any dinner service) and its price (more than a thousand dollars per plate), Bella by the Sea isn’t pretentious. It strikes me as daring — a bold experiment by a father-and-son team that it turns out Aiden knows from way back. Marcello and Matt Vitale both come by to introduce themselves before we eat. The older man is charming, with a soft Italian accent. The son is striking, with quiet, almost angry eyes as blue as the deepest sea. They share a passion for food and a deep appreciation for beauty.

  I stare out across the open terrace, across the cliff’s edge and down to the crashing waves beneath. The sun is just setting across the ocean, turning blue sky to burned umber.

  “This place is beautiful.”

  “It’s normally booked for months,” Aiden says. “I knew they’d be full when I called. Turns out they had a last-minute cancellation. One couple out of three, with reservations made months ago, had to cancel at exactly the place I wanted to take you on exactly the evening you happened to be here. It’s almost kismet, how that happened. Like it was meant to be.”

  I smile. It’s almost sad, the feeling I have as my expression dawns. Aiden must see the something-like-sadness I feel, because he asks me what’s wrong.

  “It’s just strange, hearing you talk about fate.”

  “I’ve always believed in fate. It’s how I’ve achieved all that I have. You can believe in ambition to get things done — and believe me, I do. But at a certain point you need to have faith. You need to know that you’ve done all you can, and that the rest is inevitable.”

  “But when most people talk about fate,” I say, “they talk about things being outside their control. You speak of inevitability. That’s not fate, is it — if you believe you create it yourself, then it becomes truth in advance?”

  “It’s simpler to get what you want if you believe it’s already yours, because then you can stop worrying about working toward a thing, and focus on taking what already belongs to you.”

  My smile widens.

  Again, Aiden says, “What?”

  “You’re deeper than you seem.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You come off as an obnoxious braggart who cares about nobody. But alone, you talk like a philosopher.”

  “I’m just confident to the point of being obnoxious.”

  “No doubt,” I say, reaching out to touch his arm.

  We’re quiet for a while.

  “Something happened today, didn’t it?”

  Aiden nods.

  “With the Syndicate. With what we talked about the other day, back in your room.”

  Aiden watches the sea. He sighs, then looks me in the eyes in a way that makes me feel like the only woman in the world. “You said we had two options. Do you remember that?”

  I nod. “I could talk to Anthony for you. Or I could not.”

  “And neither seemed good. Talking to Anthony would make you a pawn. It’d be me manipulating you — but, I’m now seeing more and more, it would go deeper than that. You wouldn’t just be my pawn; you’d be the Syndicate’s. You’d be a pawn for the Eros board. Barnes. Players you don’t even know, like Caspian White and Evan Cohen. Maybe even this mysterious Alexa Mathis.”

  I nod again.

  “But if you don’t talk to Anthony on my behalf, that means you’re still against me, like always. I’d have to find another way to reach him, if there is another way now that I’ve let go of the board. We’d have to agree that this was all just fun and games. Each of us got sex from the other. We used each other. But that was it, because we’ve been enemies since the beginning. It’s your job to get in my way, and my job to steamroll past you.”

  “I don’t love either choice.”

  “And I thought those were the only choices,” Aiden says, “until I got a phone call. From Parker Barnes.”

  “Oh? And what did Barnesy have to say?”

  “He told me to break it off. Which was interesting, because until that point I didn’t think there was anything to break off. It’s not like we were dating. We were fuck buddies in limbo.”

  “Of course.”

  “But the thing is,” Aiden says, reaching up to scratch his ear, cocking his head into a disobedient tilt, “I don’t like being told what to do. So Barnes’s proclamation convinced me that the one way I didn’t want to decide was his way. And that made me wonder: What’s the opposite of breaking it off with you?”

  He’s not really saying this, is he? I’ve thought it, but that’s because I was being an idiot.

  My heart races.

  “Maybe,” he says, “Secret Option Number Three is to double down.”

  “‘Double down,’” I repeat. “With me?”

  Aiden takes my hand. “And what’s the opposite of a pawn?”

  I shake my head. I’m sure I don’t know.

  “A partner,” he says.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  AIDEN

  WE’RE SITTING IN LEATHER CHAIRS that are more comfortable than they appear, in the giant Forage conference room overlooking downtown Seattle. It’s
surprisingly clear. The sun brightens the room. It’s a mammoth space with a handful of columns, the entire wall made of windows.

  Seattle is usually gray, but today it’s the brightest blue. I’m taking that as a sign — the faith I told Jamie about. It isn’t woo-woo; it comes from confidence, guts, and ignoring all that is contrary.

  Right now, I can’t lose this. Because right now it’s fact.

  I’m surrounded by a home field advantage? That only sharpens the point.

  “Are we waiting for someone else?” Onyx asks.

  What an adorable asshole Onyx can be. We know exactly how many people are coming, and my partner knows damn well that Eros only sent Daniel Rice, Parker Barnes, and Bridget Miller. We put out the fourth chair on their side on purpose, just to fuck with them. My side of the table is me, Onyx, Jamie, and Ross. On their side are three people and a missing nobody.

  An observer might see this as four against three. In reality, it’s either six against one or four against one with two abstaining. I’ve always liked Daniel, and we get along well. I don’t know his wife Bridget especially well, but she’s smart as hell and didn’t earn her position near the top of Eros by sucking dick.

  Nobody likes the Eros board — not even other members. Barnes is alone here, more powerless than he pretends, with even his own company’s CEO against him.

  But there are politics in play. Hence the meeting.

  And our posturing — right down to Barnes’s chair “accidentally” being two inches closer to the ground so the rest of us can tower above him.

  “No,” Daniel says, smirking. “This is everyone.”

  “I thought Alexa was going to be here?” I say to Barnes.

  “Alexa is just a writer.”

  “But you’re leveraging her work. She should be here.”

  Barnes squirms, then says what we’ve already figured out — probably because Daniel told me directly: Nobody’s ever met Alexa. They found her online, working forums like a pro. They liked her ambition and her ability to think a mile outside the box, heard what she had in mind, and hired her to work for them.

  Now Alexa writes, and Eros manipulates. Alexa’s books — and some questionable, secret technologies that somehow support them — are the tip of a propaganda iceberg Eros is meticulously building.

  “It’s fine.” Then I repeat what Barnes said, claiming it as my own insight: “After all, Alexa is just a writer.”

  Daniel eyes the four of us across the table. Jamie doesn’t have an official position at Forage, because the stockholders wouldn’t stand for it. But she does have an official position with Anthony: she took my slot on his board.

  For all intents and purposes, Jamie is fully in charge. She has a VP title and watches the money. Anthony’s foundation has nothing to do with what we’re trying to accomplish here today, but in another sense it means everything. Anthony’s heart follows his charity. And the world knows that he never delves into anything with less than all of his heart.

  It’s funny — what I thought from the start is now legally, literally true: You can’t get to Anthony Ross without going through Jamie. She’s on our side, or no one’s at all.

  Daniel says, “So. I take it from your presence here, Anthony, that you’ve decided to incorporate the Forage algorithm into the Syndicate’s plan after all?”

  “Hang on,” says Barnes. “I don’t believe Mr. Turner’s Syndicate has officially ratified Anthony’s plan for the money. It’s Anthony’s idea, not the Syndicate’s.”

  “For now,” Jamie says.

  Barnes sneers because Jamie shouldn’t officially know anything about the Syndicate — but neither should Barnes, so fuck him.

  “It only makes sense to involve Forage,” Anthony tells the Eros representatives. “So yes.”

  Bridget looks at Daniel. Both glance at Barnes, then they trade tiny smiles that I happen to see. I get the feeling there’s a joke in play already. I happen to know a few things about Eros that I probably shouldn’t: One, that Daniel’s knocked Barnes on his ass before, and two, that Daniel and Bridget actually loathe the artificial intelligence program that Barnes is so invested in.

  I don’t know all of the details, but somehow the AI — Halo — was a point of contention after Eros’s Trevor’s Harem experiment. The whole thing pissed Daniel off, somehow insulted Bridget, and nearly got Barnes canned. I don’t know details, but I do know that if Halo burned tomorrow, neither Bridget nor Daniel would shed a tear.

  “Excellent,” Barnes says, though it looks like he’s thinking the opposite. He asked me to bring Anthony around on Forage so that Eros, Forage, and Anthony could all work together. But the man still senses a catch.

  And he’s right to. We have a doozy coming for his complacent ass.

  “So the Syndicate can use Forage’s search algorithm,” Bridget says.

  “That’s right,” Onyx adds. “Along with other algorithms we’ve been developing, including one in use right now — under the radar, of course — on the LiveLyfe social network.”

  “And Anthony? You’re fully on board?”

  Anthony nods at Bridget. “It’s my idea. Putting it into effect requires my … unique platform.”

  Jamie squeezes my hand under the table. When Anthony says “unique platform,” he’s referring to the hundreds of millions of people who know his name and follow his work. If Anthony were evil, he could be another Hitler — he’s that charismatic, that influential.

  Good thing he’s not evil. And good thing he has Jamie to help steer his ship.

  “Excellent,” Barnes repeats, still looking uneasy more than anything else. “So we’re a go.”

  “With one exception,” I say.

  Barnes looks at me, almost confused. He’s not a bad looking guy, but between me, Daniel, and Anthony, the man seems almost puny. With his two-inch-lower chair, we all tower above him. And he’s seemed more meek than his ego since he came in, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

  Right now, the way Barnes is looking at me, he knows that second shoe is coming.

  This is too easy, I imagine Barnes thinking. I told Aiden to break it off with Jamie but he didn’t … yet our deal has still magically come together.

  “We’ve decided not to use the Halo algorithm,” I continue. “Anthony and I have discussed it, and decided that what Forage already has is sufficient for this project.”

  “You and Anthony discussed it?”

  “Anthony, me … and Jamie,” I clarify.

  Barnes stares daggers at Jamie, but he’s impotent. Anthony and Jamie control the plan, the platform, and a good chunk of the money. The Syndicate’s inert without them. It’s either do as Anthony wants, or find another plan.

  I can feel Barnes’s hatred like heat on my skin.

  But then again, if Barnes didn’t want me to partner with Jamie — and hence Anthony — against him, he should’ve kept his fucking opinions about who I date to his goddamned self.

  Barnes looks at Daniel. Then at Bridget. “Did you know about this?”

  “We discussed it,” Daniel says, failing to hide his smirk.

  Barnes says, “This is your company. If they don’t use Halo, your company loses out.”

  “Just like it did after the first time the board tried to use it without my consent — and failed,” Daniel responds. “And yet, we survived that catastrophe fine.”

  Daniel gives Bridget a meaningful look. I wonder what happened between the three of them in the Trevor’s Harem experiment last year. I only know that it took place in the company’s remote lodge in the Rockies, shortly before Bridget joined Team Eros — before she and Daniel got married.

  But whatever happened, it set Daniel against the others. He came out on top, with no love lost for the board, the AI, or the failed experiment itself.

  “Did you do this, Daniel?” Barnes asks. “Did you do it on purpose?”

  Bridget answers for him. Her voice is husky and full of grit, sexy as it spills from her long, thin frame. “He didn’t
do anything. This was Anthony’s decision.”

  “And Jamie’s,” I can’t resist adding.

  Daniel stands. Brushes at his blazer.

  “Where are you going?” Barnes asks.

  He takes Bridget’s hand as she rises. “We have another appointment.”

  “Wait. That’s it?”

  “What more is there?”

  Barnes looks at me and Onyx for help, as if we’d give it. “It’s only been fifteen minutes. I’ve blocked out the entire day.”

  “You overestimated by a hair,” I say.

  “But … we flew all the way up here!”

  Hands are being shaken. Only Barnes seems out of place, even after he stands from his midget chair. We’re all smiling, wishing each other luck, and saying that it’s been pleasant. Barnes is blustering. I almost feel sorry for him. But also? Fuck Barnes, and the board he represents.

  “My flight isn’t until tonight!”

  “You flew commercial?” Daniel manages to make it sound concerned rather than condescending, but it’s clearly the latter. I know Daniel and Bridget were in Texas when I called this meeting, but they didn’t mind flying to Seattle in the Eros jet any more than Jamie minded flying up. It’s part of her job, now that she’s with Anthony’s foundation instead of Urban Design, and it’s part of Daniel and Bridget’s job, too.

  So I guess it’s part of Barnes’s as well — but with the Eros jet in Texas, he had to fly with the masses. Delta. And no First Class tickets were still available, so apparently he sat middle seat between two morbidly obese and sweaty men.

  Anthony reaches into his briefcase and hands something to Barnes across the table. “Here. The Seahawks are home tonight. You can use my box.”

  Barnes, despite being lost, consults the tickets. “My flight leaves halfway through the game.”

  Anthony says, “Then maybe just tailgate.”

  We file out with cordial goodbyes. It’s ironic. Before I sent Onyx to ply Anthony through Jamie and her friend Mia, the parties in this deal didn’t trust each other. After I started fighting with Jamie, that distrust grew into animosity. Only now — after Barnes fucked up by trying to guide my life — have things settled into friendship.