Trillionaire Boys' Club: The Internet Giant Page 9

  Except between me and Mia.

  But now there’s no other choice. She’s doing what I told her even as she eyes me with lust-filled regret: moving to the desk, standing in front of it, and dropping her panties to the ground.

  She’s in a little black skirt that suits her, with a white blouse that looks almost like one of my dress shirts, tailored to fit her tiny frame. Her black hair and black-lined eyes are stark against her pale skin. She’s trembling, nervous.

  I know how she feels. I’ve never wanted any woman more than I want Mia now, and I’ve certainly had my pick. She’s the most beautiful thing in the world to me. When she sits on the desk and opens her legs, it’s all I can do not to dive forward without a thought. She’s watching me with a down-tipped chin, upturned eyes.

  Her eyes light me on fire. The look is innocent and craven. Good and evil. Desiring and avoidant. I’m drawn to her, and know I shouldn’t go.

  She lays back a little, opening wider, then hikes her skirt up to show me her pussy. One hand holds the desk and the other moves between her smooth folds. The skin there is blushed with moisture. She wants me, all right, just as I want her.

  My cock twitches as I watch her lips open like a flower.

  I want to fuck her like never before — to make her claw my back when she comes, to make her scream my name.

  I shouldn’t do this. For both our sakes, and given our past.

  I do it anyway.

  Part of me wants Mia to tell me to stop, to shove me away. It’s kin to the part of Mia, I suppose, that wants me to stop on my own. But I can’t stop, and she can’t tell me to. We’re both hopeless. We’re two ships bound to collide. Neither can steer away from the inevitable wreck.

  I’m not strong enough to stop wanting her, and she’s hopeless to stop craving me.

  We fit together in every way — until it’s over, and my true nature returns.

  I wanted to be true to Mia, but I was broken.

  Somehow I stop with the tip of my cock inches from her pussy. And I say, “It won’t be any different.”

  Mia bites her lip. Her chest rises and falls. Her fingers stroke her pussy, then reach for my hard shaft. I feel her soft digits caress me, bringing me toward the edge.

  There’s a moment.

  Then it breaks.

  “It can only be sex,” I say.

  Again she says nothing. Biting her lip. Watching my eyes. Her chest rising and falling.

  Without thinking, I pull her forward. I can’t put my cock in her like this, not with her face as a window to the past. We’re both adults; we know this is stupid. But at the same time, we’re both adults — mature enough to know this is an itch that must be scratched.

  I pull her from the desk. I turn her around and bend her over, so that she’s facing away from me — a smooth ass and a delicious pussy. Just another girl. One more place to dip my wick.

  She’s not Mia.

  I tell myself this because I can’t be with Mia, because … well, I don’t know why anymore.

  Without thinking, I press the tip of my dick against her pussy. It slides in without resistance. The sensation is intense as I enter. It’s as if her pussy is a fist, taking me by the shaft and dragging me inside. I’m all the way in and her tunnel squeezes me, throbbing like an orgasm. I move a little and the squeezing intensifies, then just like that Mia’s pressed flat on her own desk blotter, one arm striking out sideways involuntarily, striking a caddy full of pens and knocking it to the floor.

  She gasps and her pussy milks my cock and I realize she’s coming.

  Already, she’s coming, with my big dick inside her.

  I thrust, feeling the contractions. She’s so tight as she comes that I almost come with her. Instead she brings me to the edge — my balls pulled up tight against me, nerves screaming through crotch, everything tense as I try not to explode inside her.

  It’s nearly impossible.

  Mia keeps coming and coming, an endless orgasm, her breath in hitches and moans.

  She’s not in control. Neither am I.

  I fuck her slow to try and hold out, but there’s no way; she’s borne down on me, pressing herself flat to the desk, her body weight pinning my cock inside her, flattening her pussy between torso and desk.

  She’s grinding against me, pushing back, fighting my every attempt at restraint.

  But I can’t hold back. I think things I shouldn’t as I slide toward my point of no return.

  This is Mia I’m fucking.

  I’m inside Mia, all over again.

  My balls clench and I thrust faster into her, slamming against her ass, gripping her shoulders, my feet barely able to hold me upright.

  We shouldn’t be doing this.

  I swore, for both our sakes, that we’d never do this again.

  Not because I didn’t want her.

  But because we were hotter than the sun. Hotter than any mortal is equipped to take. We burned bright and died early. Whatever we’re doing now … it won’t end well.

  “Onyx,” she says. “Onyx, I’ve missed you.”

  Her words should make me wither. Instead, they push me over the edge and I explode inside her, my fingers on her shoulders like talons.

  I pull out, already regretting what we’ve done.

  “Tell me you’ve missed me, too,” she says, her voice soft.

  Of course I have.

  But I say nothing. Instead I buckle up and leave her behind.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  ONYX

  Aiden finds me in his Tesla.

  He didn’t even rent it. He bought the thing after landing, the way a man who forgets his toothbrush on a trip will simply buy a new one. He leaves it unlocked, figuring it doesn’t matter if anyone steals it, and when he’s done here he’ll do one of two things. Either he’ll leave it somewhere and wait for the city to ticket and eventually repossess it, or more likely he’ll contact one of his charities and have them take it for auction — in a very public way.

  And when I say that, I don’t mean to sound jaded. It’s not that Aiden’s famous philanthropy is disingenuous; he means it. It’s just that when he does good things, Aiden insists on getting credit. For PR’s sake.

  It’s after eleven when he finally comes down to the car. It’s almost lunchtime inside, and Aiden’s work is done. I, however, will eventually need to go back. I don’t want to. Because if I play my cards right, I’ll find Mia back on her usual hook — where I no longer want her.

  Aiden opens the passenger-side door, slides in, and has closed it by the time I look over.

  “Tell me you hit that.” I don’t reply, so he holds up a hand and repeats: “Tell me you hit that.”

  “Put your fucking hand down.”

  I don’t look over, but from the corner of me eye I see him shrug. “Fine. Leave me hanging. I thought we were better friends.”

  I refuse the bait. “Did you handle the meeting? Is it over?”

  “Jamie will take over most of the day-to-day. I made it clear that it’s not permanent and that we’ll be bringing in someone to manage things.”

  “Now you’re hiring? This is a lot of work, Aiden.”

  “One of your Education people can do it. There’s like fifteen people in the entire company. How hard can it be to manage architects and civil engineers?”

  I say nothing. I’m still thinking, mostly ignoring my partner.

  “Relax, Onyx. Based on what Jamie said, the office runs itself. Simon was more in the way than anything.”

  “And now we own an architecture firm.”

  Aiden confirms what I’d already figured: “We don’t have to go through with it. When we’re done here, we can let Simon have it back.”

  “I get the feeling he doesn’t want it.”

  “Then we’ll make some process improvements in the meantime. I’ll infuse some capital. We need the loss on the books anyway. He’ll get back a better company than he left. What’s the problem?”

  I sort of grunt.


  Aiden turns to face me. “What’s going on with you, Onyx? You just got laid. I’d think you’d be stress-free, not stressed out.”

  “This was a mistake.”

  “Of course it’s not a mistake. I saw Jamie and Mia in the break room on my way out, so I stopped to listen. That girl is really hung up on you, Onyx.”

  Yes. Yes, she is. That’s exactly the problem. And what I can’t tell Aiden for a dozen reasons is that it’s not entirely one-sided.

  The way Mia and her mother always saw things, I was the bad guy. And yes, I was awful. But there was a second truth: I always fucked things up when I started to think about Mia too much. I didn’t like the control it felt like she had, given all the things I wanted to do in the world.

  When she started to feel like shackles, that was when I broke things, when I took whatever we were building and lit it on fire.

  “Your logic is fucked up, Aiden. Even if Mia starts liking me again, Jamie will be a stumbling block. Mia can say I’m awesome all day long, but Jamie won’t go to bat for Forage with Anthony Ross as long as she — Jamie, not Mia — thinks we’re rotten.”

  “This was your logic, partner. And it’ll work. Just let me worry about Jamie.”

  That turns my head. I saw them together earlier. Based on her LiveLyfe profile, Jamie doesn’t strike me as the kind of girl who’s easily fooled or even wooed, but I did see her flirting with Aiden. And there’s no question about the guy’s charm.

  “So now you’re sticking around? Going to manage an architecture office in Podunk, America?”

  He laughs. “Of course not. I’m taking the jet to Seattle as soon as I grab my shit from the hotel.” He looks around the car’s cab. “You want the Tesla?”

  “So you’re not staying?”

  “Why would I stay?”

  “You said you’d handle Jamie.”

  “I said, ‘Let me worry about Jamie.’ What, did you think I was going to fuck her?” Aiden laughs. “She’s hot, but she’s way too smart for me. Not that I’m against intellectual chicks — I just mean it’d take more time to crack her than I’m willing to invest. And hell, she’d probably see right through me. I’ll hurt the cause, not help it.”

  “So why fly down?”

  “To make sure you didn’t fuck things up.” He frowns. “Or, perhaps more accurately, to make sure you did ‘fuck’ things up.” He makes a show of sniffing the air. “But yes. I do think it smells like pussy in here.”

  I hate that Aiden knows what happened between me and Mia — even if that was his plan. Putting us at the helm of Urban Design is a way to keep me close to Mia so she can fall for me again, but I had to cross that particular line first, today.

  Now it’s handled —but what I did feels different than the plan. And I resent AIden’s nose in my business.

  “I’m going back to my place,” I say, reaching for the door handle.

  “Wait.”

  My hand is still out, but I turn my head to look back at him.

  “How long have we known each other, Onyx?”

  I don’t answer. It’s rhetorical, and I don’t particularly feel like playing his games. Normally, I like Aiden a lot. He’s like a brother. But today? I don’t know — I want him gone so I can be alone.

  “I know how you are,” Aiden says. “I know you better than you know yourself.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “You’re not always a cold-hearted bastard. A lot of the time, you seem like one — and I’d say you are — but every once in a while you’re a decent guy.”

  I wonder if I’m supposed to thank him.

  “There’s a lot riding on this, Onyx. You know there is. Ross’s platform is a perfect match for Forage. It’ll turn us into the intelligence behind the entire Internet … and that’s for starters. You know how Ross is. He doesn’t have a five-year plan. He doesn’t even have a ten-year plan. The ideas Ross has hinted at? They won’t fully realize for fifty years. It’ll be the 2060s before we know what this all really meant and why it mattered.”

  “He’ll be over ninety in fifty years, and lucky to be alive.”

  “And if the rumors we’ve heard are true? In twenty or thirty years, ninety won’t be that old for a guy like Anthony Ross … or for guys like us, if we play our cards right.”

  I’ve heard this all before. It’s bullshit, but I don’t feel like arguing with Aiden right now.

  He fixes me with his blue-eyed stare. “My point is that now — right here, today — we have a chance to get into this thing with Ross, if the Syndicate votes the way I think it will when the time comes. If we do, then we can only imagine what we’ll have created when the 2060s roll around. But if we fail? If Anthony Ross isn’t interested in talking to us because his surrogate daughter doesn’t tell him what amazing visionaries we are? Well, then Forage will be another search engine, eventually losing the race to Google.”

  “What’s your point?”

  Now Aiden reaches for the door handle, actually opening his. He’s either planning to walk away from me or hail a cab. I guess this is my car now, no matter whose name is on the registration.

  “My point is that every once in a while, you’re a decent guy,” Aiden says. “But for the love of God, don’t let now be one of those times.”

  He’s out of the car. I reach over and hold the door open.

  “You’re just going to leave me to deal with this alone? Just like that?”

  “Just pretend to be yourself,” Aiden says, “and make sure Mia believes.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  MIA

  My knee-jerk reaction is to feel like an idiot, but I convince myself that it’s worth turning the coin to see the other side. Maybe I’m not a fool. And maybe it’s listening to my knee-jerk reactions — instead of properly thinking things out — that keeps getting me into trouble.

  It’s backwards psychology, telling me only what I want to hear. Part of me recognizes my bullshit, but not all of me. Somehow I decide that maybe I had so much trouble with Onyx in the past because I never stopped to consider the consequences … and conveniently ignore the fact that what I’m not stopping to consider the consequences of this time is having sex with my emotionally abusive ex-boyfriend.

  Honestly, though. That’s something I should feel stupid about. I mean … come on.

  Still, I manage to pull my shit together once Onyx leaves the room, telling myself that maybe he didn’t kiss me or look at me or say goodbye because he was being discreet. Maybe he’s trying to keep a playful secret alive between us, and that’s why he didn’t ruin our beautiful carnal moment with … you know … courtesy.

  I suspect this is a defense mechanism.

  I suspect I’m telling myself these lies because if I don’t, I won’t be able to look at myself in the mirror. I’ll have no respect left for this skinny black-haired girl who can’t resist the asshole.

  So after work, I tell Jamie. And she flips right the fuck out.

  “You what?”

  And when she says it, she’s not responding to my revelation that we had sex in my office today. That would be logical. Instead, she’s responding to something much more offensive that I just said: That I think he might be feeling things for me again, and that maybe he’s changed.

  “Mia. Honey. He and his partner bought the company you work for just a few days after he came to you on the street with flowers, looking to—”

  I point a finger in her face. We’re at a table on the patio at Hill of Beans, and there’s a light breeze in the air. The day is fragrant. I hear chirping birds and smell the season’s freshest blooms while the logical part of my brain points at me and laughs.

  What am I, a fifteen-year-old in love? This is Onyx. He’s caused me more pain than my dentist.

  “That’s just it,” I interrupt. “He came with flowers.”

  “And you punched him in the dick.”

  “He deserved it. I’m just saying, time can change people.”

  Jamie squints at
me as if trying to read tiny writing on the bridge of my nose. Then, carefully, she says, “You’re just trying to justify the cock.”

  “Jamie!”

  “You are. You got fucked. But you told me yourself that he said it was just about sex.”

  “Oh, I don’t know what he meant by that.”

  “I think it probably meant, ‘This thing I’m about to do, where I put my dick inside you? It’s just about sex.”

  “You didn’t see how he was.”

  “I know exactly how he was. Not today, but for … like … all of your past.”

  I sigh. “This was different. I … saw something in him.”

  “I think what you both saw was something in you — namely, his cock.”

  “It’s not just sex.”

  Jamie looks like I’ve set someone on fire. “Mia! He told you, ‘It’s just about sex!’”

  “That’s out of context.”

  “Uh-huh. And right after he said it, you … what? Went to a carnival? Oh, no, wait. You had sex.”

  I knew this was a bad idea. I should have kept it to myself.

  I went into the bathroom after it was all over — wiped the evidence away, pulled my panties back up, and pretended to be an upstanding member of the office with nothing to hide despite the looks I got after leaving my shuttered office. I stared into the bathroom mirror just to prove to I could do it.

  He’s not just using you again, I told myself. He’s changed.

  He may have changed.

  It’s somewhat remotely possible that he’s changed … you don’t know.

  But now, facing Jamie, those lies are harder to believe. It was simple yesterday, because we were two separate people with a terrible past. Now we’ve had this encounter. And if I didn’t do it because I believed that Onyx had changed, I’ll have to admit to being a sucker — his fuck toy, there for the taking.

  Jamie puts a hand on my shoulder. “You know I love you, right?”

  I roll my eyes. She usually suggests we go jogging right after saying something like that — like she’s softening me up by pointing out how my life or health needs saving.

  “If he wants it to be just about sex, then cool, as long as you want it to just be about sex. I wouldn’t have recommended it, but you sort of jumped the gun without asking me, so what’s done is done.”