Obsession: (Billionaire Venture Capitalist #5) A Billionaire Russian Mob Romance Page 14

  “Please what?” he groans through clenched teeth. Todd runs his hand up my spine until his fingers find my hair. He grabs as much as he can and pulls, forcing my back to arch and a gasp to escape my mouth.

  He presses the sensitive head of his cock against my entrance and shoves himself inside, fully seated on the first push, forcing a moan from me. He grabs my hip roughly with his free hand and thrusts hard into me, the sound of our skin slapping together coming with every thrust. Our eyes are glued to one another’s, and I moan loudly as he begins to pound into me, pulling out almost all the way only to shove himself in again. The muscles in the pit of my stomach contract as he hits that special spot that only he can reach.

  I’m almost yelling now, saying all kinds of profanities. “Oh fuck, Todd. Oh God. Right there,” I moan, gasping between almost every word. He plunges harder and faster until I push myself off the wall involuntarily and start shaking. My breathing is fast and shallow as my orgasm rips through my body.

  The contractions in my lower half bring Todd close to the edge of his pleasure almost simultaneously. He pulls out and spins me around. Instinctively I lean over, bracing myself against the seat at the back of the shower. Holding my hips tight, he takes me hard and fast, moaning my name and sending shivers of pleasure shooting down my spine.

  When we’ve finished, he sits on the shower seat and pulls me into his lap, holding me against him as we catch our breath. The water’s no longer hot, but I can barely feel it against my blazing skin. Todd kisses my forehead tenderly, and we finally decide to get out and dry ourselves off.

  We crawl between the sheets and snuggle in close. His semihard cock rests at my back, and with his arms wrapped around me, I feel safe and secure.

  “Good night, my love.”

  “Good night,” I murmur.

  Chapter TWENTY-ONE

  Todd

  It’s another crazy day here at the office. It’s hard to imagine everything that’s happened since leaving New York. Honestly, I thought it was a death sentence when Angus asked me to open this office. I couldn’t care less about leaving my friends, and my parents are in Florida, but my life had always been in New York.

  Leaving meant I was starting over. I’ve never really started from scratch. I knew CeCe wasn’t as into me as I was into her, but she’s always been gracious about introducing me to her friends and very generous in pointing me in the right direction for doctors, dry cleaners, and neighborhoods to live in.

  Then she introduced me to Cynthia. I thought I was really missing out by not dating CeCe, but she has the magic touch when it comes to matchmaking, and I’m absolutely over the moon crazy about Cynthia. I can’t get her out of my mind. Someone will say something, I’ll smell something, or I’ll simply spot a dark-haired woman, and it makes me think of her.

  My cell phone pings. When I see it’s Cynthia, my heart beats a bit faster.

  Cynthia: A few of us are getting together for drinks tonight after work. Care to join us?

  It takes me two seconds to respond.

  Me: Count me in. Where and what time?

  Cynthia: 7:00, Downstairs Bar.

  Me: I’ll be there.

  I head back to my apartment, change into something a little less financial formal, and then go over to the Downstairs Bar in SHN’s building to meet everyone at seven.

  When I arrive, Cynthia’s waiting. I kiss her on the cheek. “Hey, beautiful.”

  “Hey, yourself. Glad you could make it.”

  Looking around, I see her security detail sitting at the next table, trying to look inconspicuous—well, as inconspicuous as two guys in oddly fitting suits who are obviously concealing at least one weapon each can look. Part of me likes that she has a team constantly looking out for her, but the other part of me worries that this may be our lives forever.

  Sitting around the table, I spy Sara, Trey, Dillon, Emerson, Cameron, and Mason. “Looks like I’m not the last to arrive.”

  Cameron grumbles, “No, a couple the girls are running late. What else is new.” He looks disappointed, but I finally understand that feeling of not being with the woman I’m crazy about.

  I notice Mason’s girl isn’t here, though he doesn’t seem concerned. I’m not a fan of Annabel and learned recently that I’m not the only one.

  Then the two missing girls—Hadlee and Annabel—arrive, and both men light up.

  We order drinks and snacks and enjoy a nice, fun evening. Our conversation revolves around some wedding planning and vacations. I enjoy the trip ideas, although I’ve already been to Lake Como and climbed Machu, but the wedding planning makes me blanch just a little bit.

  Eventually the girls break off to talk about weddings and the guys talk about football. I’m a Giants fan, so I’m good for a few comments.

  After a while, Cynthia leans over, her hand on my thigh and her pinkie rubbing my cock, and whispers in my ear. “I sure would like to spend some time alone with you this evening.”

  My cock responds first, instantly rock hard.

  I whisper back to her, “Your wish is my command.”

  We signal the security team, say our goodbyes, and head to the door. Idling just outside the door is a giant suburban with a member of Jim’s team holding the door open for her. He sits on one side, we put Cynthia in the middle, and I sit on her other side while the car races directly to our apartment building, dropping us in the garage right outside the elevator banks.

  They radio the FBI, who acknowledge our arrival, and we head upstairs knowing there’re cameras watching our every move. It’s the only thing that keeps me from undressing her and taking her now that we’re alone.

  When we exit the elevator, I nod to the security guy on the floor and we enter my apartment. I barely have the door shut when Cynthia turns to me, crashing our lips together. I can’t get enough of her.

  My hands wander, my fingers exploring, until she leads me by the hand back to our bedroom. I’m consumed by everything about her. She turns to me as she enters the room, and I walk her backward to the bed. As I lay her down and climb on top of her, tongues colliding, I see something in the periphery.

  I break the kiss long enough to look up and see the most disgusting sight—an eviscerated rat splayed across my pillow.

  I jump up. “What the fuck?”

  Cynthia turns to what I’m looking at, then screams and covers her mouth.

  The security detail and the FBI all come running in with guns drawn, ready to shoot.

  I pull Cynthia to me as she hides her eyes from the violent scene. It’s then that I turn and look at the wall above the bed, reading in what may be rat blood, “Keep Your Mouth Shut, Bitch.”

  My blood pressure skyrockets in a matter of milliseconds. I’m going to kill the motherfucker who did this.

  “Where the fuck have you guys been?” I demand. “How did they get into my apartment?”

  They don’t answer me, too busy talking into walkie-talkies and earpieces. I pull Cynthia tighter as she cries.

  The team decides she needs to be moved, and they attempt to hustle her away, but she won’t let go of me. “Not without Todd. I’m not leaving without him.”

  More concerned about her security, they don’t fight her. Six tall, strapping men surround us as we take the elevator back down and climb into a waiting SUV.

  Leaving the building with lights and sirens through the city streets, blowing red lights, we head toward the 101.

  Cynthia keeps repeating, “I don’t know anything. Why don’t they understand that I don’t know anything? Why won’t they leave me alone? I don’t know anything.”

  All I can do is hold her head, give her assuring strokes, and tell her, “It’ll be okay, sweetheart. I promise.”

  We’re driven to a nondescript concrete building somewhere south of the airport. Jim and the head of the FBI’s local office are there to greet us.

  I don’t let them say anything before I explode. “How did someone get into my apartment? Where were your guys all day toda
y? When the fuck did this happen? Our building was supposed to be secure. Your team’s supposed to be watching the cameras and making sure things like this don’t happen. What would we have done had somebody been in our apartment and got to us? Or tried to kidnap her?”

  “Mr. Wellington, we understand why you’re upset. We assure you, we are too. We’re trying to ascertain how this person got in and was able to accomplish what he did. The team was alert and watching the cameras, and right now we don’t know how the intruder entered your home,” Agent Walker bristles.

  I pound my fist on the table. “That’s not good enough.”

  “Sir, we understand, but we’re doing the best we can.”

  Jim looks over at him and says, “Your best is not good enough. They got into her apartment, and now they’ve gotten into his apartment with your team three floors down and cameras throughout the building. How the hell did this happen?”

  Agent Walker’s obviously angry too. Through clenched teeth, he says, “We’ll have an answer for you in the morning.”

  Jim turns to us. “I have a safe house I’m taking you to. Please come with me.”

  We all pile into the back of an SUV and are driven in circles to make sure we have nobody tailing us.

  After a while, I ask, “How do you know they don’t have trackers on us?”

  “There’s a blocker inside the car, so you’ll notice there’s no cell phone coverage within the car or once you get close. While we were inside, the team went through and checked every crevice of the car with a scanner, looking for anything emitting radio frequencies that could identify our location.”

  We finally come to a small, quiet neighborhood and pull up in front of a craftsman home. We’re ushered inside and taken to a bedroom.

  “Would you like one bedroom or two?” Jim offers.

  Cynthia turns to me and asks, “Do you mind staying with me tonight?”

  I kiss the top of her head and hold her close. “Of course not.”

  I send texts to Mason and Thomas, letting them know what happened and that neither of us will be in tomorrow. We don’t know where we’re going to be, but we’ll be sure to fill everybody in as soon as we know.

  Mason: WTF? How the hell did anyone get past the FBI and Jim’s team?

  Me: I’ve been asking that same question.

  Mason: Let us know if you need anything.

  Me: I will. Right now I think all she needs is a good night’s sleep.

  She strips down to her underwear and climbs beneath the covers. Under normal circumstances, I would want to ravish her, but tonight’s not that kind of night. I want Cynthia to feel safe, and I know we have plenty of time for that in the future.

  During the night, Cynthia wakes up, thrashing and screaming, “I don’t know anything!”

  I rub her back and soothe her back to sleep. Despite my own lack of sleep, my body’s wide-awake at 4:00 a.m. I lie there holding Cynthia as long as I can. Finally my body tells me it needs caffeine, and I smell coffee.

  Carefully extricating myself from Cynthia’s grasp, I pull on my pants and wander into the kitchen. Jim’s sitting there with four members of his team.

  “Mr. Wentworth, so nice of you to join us,” he calls out. “My team has established where there was a break in coverage. Apparently there were no cameras outside on your patio, and they came in that way.”

  I just stare at them, my frustration continuing to increase. “How the hell did they get on the patio?”

  I have to hand it to Jim, he handles me well. “It looks like they rappelled from the base of Coit Tower to your patio, entering through the garden door.”

  “So there were no cameras on my patio? Nowhere on the thirty-five-hundred-square-foot open patio?”

  “No, sir. But to be honest, we didn’t expect that anyone would be able to drop onto the patio. We believed it was only accessible via the inside or by climbing up the one hundred and twenty feet on the exterior of the building without being noticed.”

  Running my hands through my hair, I look at each of them carefully. “Why are they so obsessed with her? She doesn’t know anything!”

  “We don’t understand it ourselves. We’re trying to figure it all out though.”

  “So where does that leave us?”

  “I believe you’ll be safe back at your home. If you think she can feel secure there, we’re going to set up cameras on the patio facing the streets, and we’ll continue to work with the FBI. I won’t lie and tell you that they won’t surprise us again. However, I do believe that between both teams, you’re going to be more than covered there, and Cynthia will be safe.”

  “We’ll have to see how she feels and if she’s good with that idea. I want to be assured that your team doesn’t leave her side. You go to her office with her. You walk with her home. The second she steps outside of my apartment, there is somebody with her. She doesn’t even go to the bathroom alone.”

  Behind me, I hear a small voice say, “I think I can go to the bathroom by myself at work.”

  We all turn to look at Cynthia. The circles under her eyes are prominent, her hair is disheveled, and yet she still looks beautiful.

  I stand, pushing my chair back with a loud squeak. “Hey, babe, how are you feeling?”

  “I could use a little bit more sleep.” She rubs at her eyes and self-consciously combs her fingers through her hair.

  Walking toward her, I wrap her in my arms. She feels so delicate and yet so brave. “Would you like to stay here, or would you prefer to go into the office?”

  “I wouldn’t mind going into the office in a little bit, but first I think I’d like some breakfast. I have a splitting headache, so maybe a large glass of orange juice followed by a very large cup of coffee. Come to think of it, maybe a pot of coffee will be better to get through my day.”

  They all jump and make room for her at the table while one of Jim’s guys pours her a cup of coffee.

  Another of the guys, a three-hundred-pound black man, stands and introduces himself, “Ma’am, my name’s Curtis, and I’d be delighted to make you some breakfast. How do you like your eggs?”

  “Nice to meet you, Curtis. Scrambled is fine, but I’m happy to make them myself.”

  “Not a problem, ma’am, I don’t mind a bit. Please drink your coffee and juice.”

  I hand her a large glass of orange juice, and she downs it quickly. “Ahhh.” She looks around the room and says, “So, what’s the plan, boys?”

  Jim walks her through everything going on and carefully explains how we’re going to move forward. He tells her how they got into the apartment and how they’re going to remedy that for the future. “Are you comfortable staying in the apartment?” he asks in the end.

  She pauses for a few moments before answering. “Sara offered her beach house up in Stinson. What do you think, Jim? Would that be a good alternative?”

  “We could certainly make that work. I do think you’re safer in San Francisco, but I understand if you want to escape for a few days.”

  “I think I can stay in San Francisco as long as Todd’s with me.”

  I wrap my arm around her waist. “I promise I won’t leave your side.”

  “Maybe we can go up to Stinson for the weekend?”

  I nod. “I’m up for Stinson—wherever that is.”

  Jim nods at both of us. “We’ll get that arranged.”

  We spend the morning debriefing and then head back to my apartment for showers and a change of clothes.

  When we arrive at my place, we walk hand in hand, prepared for the worst when we come to my bedroom. I’m surprised to find my bed stripped, the wall cleaned, and my pillow gone. I guess I’ll need to get that replaced.

  Cynthia squeezes my hand. “We’re going to be okay.”

  I’m not sure if she said that for herself or for me, but I believe it. “Yes, babe, we sure are.”

  Chapter TWENTY-TWO

  Cynthia

  I spend a good part of the day dealing with Walker Clifton and
the US attorney’s office. Marci’s there holding my hand the entire time. They’ve definitely moved from me being a suspect and knee-deep in this crap to being an asset. I want to get my life somewhat back to normal. Well, as normal as it can be for someone with a full-time security team following them wherever they go.

  I work hard all week, and Dillon and I manage to leave the office one day to meet with Oliver Peters for lunch. He doesn’t notice my entourage, so that’s encouraging. I have to admit, it’s really hard to be stuck in the office all day every day. I swear my backside’s growing, and God blessed me with big boobs and a big ass at the start. Those are the last things I want to grow.

  My coworkers and friends have been wonderful through all of this bullshit. They each go out of their way to make sure they’re inviting me to lunch dates here in the office or coffee breaks to at least break up the monotony. At least it’s been gray and cloudy the past few days, so I don’t feel like I’m missing much.

  After a long three days, this afternoon we’ll head to Stinson Beach, just north of San Francisco on the other side of the Golden Gate Bridge and Mt. Tamalpais State Park. Sara and Trey will be there, but they assure me there’s plenty of room for all of us. Todd has been a great comfort, but ever since the break-in, he hasn’t touched me, and I hunger for it.

  Rolling over in bed, I note his spot is cold. It doesn’t surprise me, given it’s after six and he’s been gone for over two hours. As I think about our time together, I picture all the things he did to me. I shudder at the thoughts, my pussy clenching involuntarily. He’s awakened something deep within me, and I need more.

  I start to play with my nipples; remembering his touch, they’re hard and wanting more. I gently twist and pull them, and they send an electrical current directly to my core until I’m completely aroused.

  My fingers find my clit, slowly circling it while my other hand continues at my nipples. I imagine it’s Todd doing this to me as I remember our time together, the smell of his cologne and the slight scratch of his two-day-old stubble. I move my thumb and forefinger against the nubs of my nipples a little harder and a little faster.