Trillionaire Boys' Club: The Internet Giant Read online

  Stop it, I say.

  But they’re just words. Truth is, everything inside me is lit up like holiday lights. Truth is, I’m soaking wet. Truth is, I can feel his hot breath even from where he kneels, quarreling with the slight morning breeze where it shouldn’t be able to reach.

  A group of college kids and a fat man walking a tiny dog join the swelling crowd around us. They’re all motionless, curious, like they don’t know what they’re seeing but want to see it anyway.

  I’m embarrassed. Mortified.

  I want him to keep going.

  Don’t. Not here.

  But his hands move back to the insides of my knees. He raises my skirt and opens me the rest of the way. My pussy greets the sunshine. I can’t see it from where I am, but I imagine it opening for him, no longer tight-lipped.

  I’m dripping, and everyone can see.

  I’m not sorry, Onyx tells me as he leans closer, his breath brushing my wetness. I’m not sorry because I don’t have to be. I don’t want to kiss you. I just want to lick your pussy until you come all over my face.

  I’m exposed. The entire town is watching. People are starting to take out phones and record what we’re doing. I see them all but can’t make him stop. I remember what this feels like.

  No one eats pussy like Onyx.

  I open my mouth to protest, but my words turn into a sigh as his tongue, wide and flat, runs up my pussy and across my clit. Everything is slick and wet. I don’t know if it’s my lubrication or his spit; I can’t track the sensations.

  I only know that I can barely breathe, let alone think.

  His tongue firms, probing my hole and running across my erect bud before it starts making patterns, flicking it. His finger slides inside me and hooks back, rubbing the front wall of my pussy, hitting my G-spot. I want to squeeze the finger, so I do. He keeps rubbing, slightly thrusting. His tongue circles my wetness.

  I’ve closed my eyes, not caring who sees this.

  There is only the sensation. Only the pleasure.

  I come immediately, and it’s like nothing I’ve ever felt — not with other guys, not with my hands or my toys, not even with Onyx.

  I cry out, loud. It seems to go on forever.

  I’m not in control of myself.

  I’m his for the taking.

  I’m just starting to recover when I feel pressure below. My pussy flinches; my clit is still sensitive. But then there’s nothing but ecstasy, and fullness, and completion.

  I open my eyes to see Onyx between my legs, pants pushed down, cock inside me. His jacket is off, his shirt unbuttoned and open, his glorious dark six-pack as cut as ever. His muscles flex as he fucks me. I crane my upper body up, wanting to see his cock slide inside me. Its dark length is slicked with my juices, flowing in embarrassing abundance. My pussy lips caress his shaft as he thrusts in and out. They cling to his cock like real lips — a blowjob from below.

  You’re still tight. Your pussy was always so hot and tight.

  I don’t know what else to say, so I try my useless defenses. I hate you.

  There’s no pussy like yours, Mia. Maybe I did try all the pussy the world had to offer, but in the end I came home to yours.

  This makes me furious. I don’t want to hear about anyone else. Onyx is gone from my life. He’s never supposed to touch me again. He isn’t supposed to be between my legs right now, here in public for the whole town to witness, fucking me until I —

  I come again, harder. The feeling surprises me, both because it appears from nowhere and because I don’t usually come from just intercourse. But he’s hitting all the right spots.

  Onyx always knew what he was doing, and right now I don’t care how he learned.

  There’s only the orgasm, and the gravity of abandon.

  His tempo increases until he’s slamming me back against the bench in a furious assault. I want it. I want it all.

  Oh dear God help me, I want all the fucking he’ll give me.

  Somehow I come a third time as Onyx makes a final thrust, arching back and stretching his naked torso out before me, face to the sky, mouth open and moaning. His strokes become more fluid as he fills me with his seed. We’re nothing but liquid. My pussy squeezes his hard cock, never wanting to let it go.

  But then his cock leaves me.

  Onyx stands, composes himself, and nods to the crowd.

  I can’t move. I stay where I am, legs open, pussy spent but still wanting more.

  Stay away from me, I say. Stay away and don’t tempt me.

  Onyx says, No, Mia. We’re over when I say we’re over.

  Then he leaves.

  The crowd, suddenly disinterested, leaves me as well.

  And again, I’m alone.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ONYX

  The phone rings. At first I figure it’ll be Aiden, but it’s not. It’s Alyssa Galloway.

  I know before I answer because I actually look at the screen this time, but I still can’t keep the surprise from my voice when she comes on the line.

  “Well … hello,” I say. “Why are you calling me?”

  “Just checking in.”

  “But you don’t work for us anymore, do you?”

  “You don’t know?” Alyssa asks.

  “I can’t be bothered with such things. I’m too high up.”

  Alyssa laughs. It’s an unusual sound coming from her. She always had such a hard edge, and it took most of my charm to thaw it. Alyssa is pretty, but I never really considered trying to bed her. She was more of a friend — and honestly, my ability to be friends with a pretty woman makes me wonder if I’m finally growing up.

  Although there’s more to it on Alyssa’s side as well. I hear things are different for her now. Better.

  “You’re still a Banner client, even if I’m not your day-to-day rep.”

  “Oh. Good to know.”

  “But obviously that’s not why I’m calling. As your rep, I mean.”

  “‘Obviously’?”

  “I’m calling as a friend.”

  “People like us don’t have friends.”

  Another laugh. It’s a shame to think that all those years, when everyone knew her as such an ice queen, that pleasant sound was trapped inside her.

  “How is Education going?”

  Ah. Yes. The lie. Truth is, we’re scouting but may or may not settle Forage Education here. She’s still operating under the ruse we spun, before she turned down our offer in favor of something much better.

  “It’s fine. Of course, most of it is confidential.” I’m being playful, but that’s mainly to cover my tracks. I don’t remember what I told her and what I didn’t, other than that we’re planning to headquarter Education here and that I, personally, needed to be present for oversight — hence the bind that supposedly required Alyssa’s relocation to help me.

  “Mmm-hmm. And what about your other little issue?”

  “I’m still kind of an asshole. Although I’ve been having a lot less sex lately.” I’m still toying with her, bantering — but I also realize it’s true. I haven’t been having much sex. There was a day when I couldn’t keep my dick out of a soft, wet garage, but lately it’s like I haven’t had time for even the most casual encounters. I don’t think I’ve been laid since …

  … since before Aiden suggested I come back here to work the Anthony Ross angle?

  But … no way. Has it really been that long?

  “It’s like you’re becoming respectable,” Alyssa says.

  “No. Never.”

  There’s a long pause. Then Alyssa gets to the reason she called. “I meant your other problem. Since you’ve been back in town, have you heard from Mia Stover?”

  Hmm. Now, how should I answer that? “Well … sort of.”

  “‘Sort of’?”

  “I actually ran into her yesterday.”

  Another long pause floats between us. I’m sure Alyssa’s tone is about to become disapproving. Alyssa doesn’t directly work for me any more, and I for damn s
ure don’t work for her, but she’s always done this shame-shame thing with me, like she doesn’t think I’m capable of running my own life despite building a multi-eleven-figure business. Compared to a guy like Cole Ellison, I should have been an angel of a client, but for some reason I’m always getting her judgment.

  “I see. And how did that go?”

  “You’re calling as a friend?” I say, feeding Alyssa’s words back to her.

  “Of course.”

  “Not as a PR agent.”

  “Just as a friend.”

  “Then, friend-of-mine, I’ll be honest. It went pretty goddamn horribly.”

  “Couldn’t you turn away when you noticed her? Or is Inferno so white that you were bound to stick out anyway?”

  “Inferno is diverse.” I stop there, as if the first part of the question will go away if I ignore it.

  “And?”

  “I couldn’t just turn away, Alyssa. She knew it was me.”

  “Describe the scene. I need to see this in my head.”

  I sigh. Then I say, “How is Cole?”

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  “No, let’s change the subject. I don’t want to talk about this. My relationship issues are none of your business.”

  The old Alyssa snaps back into her voice. “First of all, you can’t leave me hanging on a cliff like that. It’s not fair, just from a human standpoint. If you wanted to hide this from me, you should have hidden it all. You can’t tell me you saw her, that it went badly, and then refuse to say anything else. You should have learned that in kindergarten, Onyx.”

  “Well, actually—”

  “And second, we have a work history together and I need the loop closed on that basis, too. When I started working with you and asked about things from your past that might come back to haunt your current-day public image, you said Mia Stover without even taking a breath first. We spent days trying to decide whether she’d ever come at you now that you were a billionaire, be it with some sort of spiteful defamation attempt or something more egregious like a paternity suit. You’re on borrowed time with that, by the way.”

  “I always wore rubbers.”

  “Hey. I’m on Mia’s side here. Now that I don’t work for you anymore, I sort of want some baby-mama to come out of the woodwork and give you what you have coming. I held my tongue when I was your publicist, but now that I’m not, I have to say it: You’re a real shit-face, Onyx. And I hope she kicks you in the balls the next time she sees you.”

  “Thanks, Alyssa.”

  “You can’t have me working on the potential Mia problem for nearly two years, then decide you have to go back for God knows what reason—”

  “I told you the reason: Forage Education.”

  “—and expect me to not be curious about whether you manage to stay out of trouble. Wrap that all together and we have a situation where I now know my friend-slash-former-client not only ran into the situation we’ve been fearing for years, but that it ‘went badly.’ So a big fuck-you for thinking you could avoid the details.”

  “Okay. Fine. She yelled at me. She shouted me down.”

  “Not surprising.”

  “She hit me. A few times.”

  Alyssa laughed. “Good. Serves you right. Did you say anything, or were you caught totally unaware when she spotted you on the street?”

  During the day yesterday, I went ahead and signed for the mansion I wanted to rent. Turns out, it came mostly furnished. One item I can’t quite abide is this giant grandfather clock. Its ticking drives me mad.

  In the pause after Alyssa asks her question, I hear every one like a hammer on steel.

  “Onyx?”

  “Well …” I shuffle, suddenly unable to get comfortable. “I thought I’d get her flowers.”

  Another long pause. Four clicks of the grandfather clock.

  “Wait. Are you telling me that you went to her?”

  “No,” I say, wondering what I’m trying to accomplish with such a simple, stupid lie now that the cat is out of the bag and loudly meowing.

  “After all we talked about? After all the scenarios? Don’t you remember, Onyx? We had teams of lawyers weigh in. Unless you knocked her up and didn’t know it, she has nothing on you because being a monumental bastard isn’t against the law. But that doesn’t mean she can’t stir up a lot of shit, and there are plenty of ambulance-chasers around who’d take up any frivolous thing she wanted on contingency just because you’re Onyx Scott and Forage has some of the world’s deepest pockets. They sue you, they sue you again, they sue you again … and sure, none of it sticks, but in the meantime you’re racking up legal charges and your name is getting dragged through the mud because believe me they’re letting the press know all about their cases. They want you to settle; doesn’t matter if there’s anything legit. But you told me, ‘She’s not like that,’ and we decided that there was one strategy that sounded best and that, honestly, we both thought would keep you out of trouble. Do you remember that strategy, Onyx?”

  I don’t reply.

  “Onyx?”

  Dammit, she’s really going to make me say it. “To stay away from her.”

  “Correct. So maybe you can enlighten me. Maybe you can tell me why, after years together and what I thought was a fair amount of mutual trust, you’ve decided to throw all of my work and advice into the crapper.”

  “It’s not that I didn’t take your advice. It’s that—”

  There’s a huge sigh. I imagine her free arm swinging wide as if trying to rise above a flood of stupidity, hair whipping as she spins away from me as if we’re in person, lips parting, exhale venting.

  “You got her flowers! You made a decision to walk right into the den of a problem we spent hours and hours and hours trying to solve. There was one thing you needed to do if you absolutely couldn’t avoid Inferno. Do you know what that was, Onyx? You fucking well should, seeing as we talked about it at length when I stepped down from your account and turned down the offer.”

  “If I remember correctly, you missed your chance for the offer.”

  Another long pause. I picture my mother staring at me for trying to say some stupid bullshit.

  “The one thing I told you to do in Inferno,” Alyssa says slowly, “was to stay away from her.”

  “That’s easier said than done.”

  “Yes. Yes it is, when you get a fucking bouquet, seek her out, and plop yourself right in front of her. You didn’t tell her you always loved her, did you? You didn’t say she completes you or anything. Did you get down on one knee? Tell me there were limits to your humiliation.”

  “Just the flowers. But—”

  Alyssa stops me again, probably pacing the room, unable to believe my stupidity. “Let me ask you something, Onyx. Answer me honestly. Do you have any respect for this woman at all? And I mean, I know you don’t, or you wouldn’t have been the fucking asshole you told me you were to her.”

  “Are you sure this is you calling me as a friend?”

  “Please tell me you didn’t actually think that was going to work. Please tell me you didn’t think that after years of repeated, chronic cheating and lying — after betraying her innocence again and again — you didn’t actually believe that you could just walk up and hand her flowers and it’d all be better.”

  I snap. Fuck this. “Well, then, what the hell should I have done?”

  “I don’t know, idiot. Maybe stayed away like I said ten thousand times?”

  “Maybe I didn’t want to stay away. Maybe I wanted to say I’m sorry.”

  “Is that true? Or is it bullshit?”

  I hesitate. The answer is, It’s complicated. If we’re just considering me, then sorta, yeah. But there’s Aiden in this, too. We have a mess on our plate — me, Aiden, Mia, her friend Jamie, and Anthony Ross. We’re all swimming in it together.

  “Yes,” I say.

  There’s a shorter pause, and I think Alyssa might be about to hand me the key to the female psyche. It’s like her h
and is on the wheel of the girl vault, considering whether or not to invite me in. “Well, too bad. You lost your chance with this one.”

  “I was a kid.”

  “You weren’t that much of a kid. Last time you fucked around on her was … what … five years ago?”

  “Six,” I say, a tad defensively.

  “So you’d have been 21. That’s an adult. And it’s not like you grew up in the lap of luxury, so don’t pretend you were partying on Daddy’s dime then.”

  “So … what? People aren’t allowed to change?”

  “Talk to me in twenty years. Maybe then, if you’re good, I’ll tell you that you can try again, see if she’ll buy that you’ve changed.”

  “I have changed!” But I haven’t. Not really.

  “Too bad. You don’t get a do-over every time. Some shit gets written in ink. Forget about Mia, and trying to make it up to her. In her shoes, I wouldn’t even want you to try. Take my advice on this one, Onyx. I’m serious. The best thing you can do for Mia right now — if you have changed enough to regret what you did — is leave her alone.”

  “I want her to know that I’m sorry.”

  “So what? That’s about you and your conscience. It has nothing to do with her. So you say you’re sorry. Is that supposed to make it all better?”

  “No, but I think that—”

  “Are you a woman, Onyx? Do you have a vagina?”

  I’m assuming this is rhetorical, but I answer anyway. “No.”

  “Then honestly, it doesn’t matter what the fuck you think on this one. You don’t get to try and make yourself feel better. You get to take your own shitty consequences and sit in them. And that’s just tough fucking titties.”

  I bite my lip. I don’t know how to continue this conversation. I can’t tell Alyssa the whole truth. Not only do I doubt she’ll have a solution, I’m also pretty sure she’ll fly to Inferno and murder me.

  “I know you’re an asshole, and I like you anyway,” Alyssa says, somewhat more gently. “Never in a thousand years would I ever date or sleep with you, but—”