The Billionaire's Secret Love Child(206)
“Fuck,” James said, as he pulled his slick dick out of her wet snatch, and she laughed and nodded. It had been a while since she felt so used, and she was hoping he would be up to using her again later that night.
It turned out he was, and he used her three more times before the Sun rose. She went home the next morning, early on Sunday. The limo wasn’t around, but James called a taxi for her, already paid with his credit card over the phone. They exchanged numbers, but Viola was half convinced it was going to be a one-time thing, and she was alright with that.
When she got home, she was pleasantly surprised to return to an empty home. Jerome was gone, along with most of his belongings. Viola showered and then took a nap. She hadn’t slept much the previous night. She was off on Sundays, and she slept until the late afternoon. When she woke up, Viola made a quick meal of a sandwich, and sat on her couch, flicking the TV on with the remote. She pulled her laptop onto her lap and opened it. She browsed through some emails and then opened Facebook.
Viola was surprised to see she had a friend request, and, even more, surprised when she saw who it was from. She recognized the picture. He was older than she was but a bit younger than James. He was a good looking man with dark hair and dark eyes, with trendy glasses and a beard. His name was Martin Alven, and she recognized him, but couldn’t remember where. She accepted the friend request anyways, and then googled the name.
She realized why she recognized the man. He owned MAA, one of the largest record labels in the country. It was, of course, headquartered in New York.
But then a memory flashed through her brain, and she realized he seemed familiar for another reason to. Viola had met him, the night before, at the club. It was hazy, but she remembered he had been hitting on her, right in front of James. She was pulled out of the memory by a small chime, and there was a new message for her on Facebook. It was from Martin.
He wanted to know if she wanted to go out to dinner with him on Wednesday, but she worked then, and she replied with that.
How about tonight then? he asked through Facebook, and Viola waited for a moment, thinking. She had been on a date with a billionaire the night before and ended up at his lavish apartment, where he f*cked her all night. Now another white billionaire was asking her to dinner. The day before, her jobless boyfriend of two years had broken up with her, and rebounding was the furthest thing from her mind. Still, you only live once, so she told Martin she would go with him.
He told her he would pick her up at four, since it was a bit of a drive, and Viola went to get ready. She dressed in her nicest dress, unsure of where exactly they would be going. She had given him her address, a little self-conscious about that, and at four, she was out in front of her building. With a roar, a red sports car entered the parking lot, the top down, a smiling Martin behind the wheel. He was tall and thin, with an angular body. He waited for her to get in, and then reached for her hand, took it, and kissed it. Viola smiled.
“I thought you were with James, but I had to ask you out. You are enchanting,” Martin said.
“You know James?”
“We run into each other,” Martin said, and then, as he pulled out of the parking lot, he laughed. “I don’t think he likes me much.”
“Maybe it’s because you hit on the girls he goes out with.”
“You guys are going out? Because here you are in my car.”
“Not out out,” Viola clarified. “He just took me out last night.”
“You aren’t afraid of heights, are you?” Martin asked as they drove, away from the city. Viola thought back to looking out the windows at James’ place and shook her head.
“Not really,” she said.
“Good,” Martin said, and just outside of the city they pulled into the parking lot of a non-descript brown building. As Martin pulled behind it, Viola saw that they were at a small airfield. A helicopter sat behind the building on a small tarmac. A pilot was checking something at the front of the helicopter.
“Is this your helicopter?” Viola asked, suddenly realizing why he wanted to know if she was afraid of heights. She thought perhaps he was going to take her to a restaurant that sat at the top of a building, she had no idea he was flying her somewhere.
“Yeah,” Martin said, and he didn’t seem embarrassed about his wealth, the way James had. “One of the first things I bought when I got the money,” he added. “You ever been in one?”
“No,” Viola said.
“It’s a blast,” Martin said, and with ten minutes they were in the sky, and Viola had to agree, it was pretty fun. The helicopter rose and fell with wind drafts, and the ground whipped by beneath them. They flew for a little over an hour, and then they were setting down near the coast. A car was waiting for them there, not a limo, but a very nice sedan. There was no driver.
“I’m sure James had a limo for you,” Martin said, looking to the black woman slyly.
Viola laughed and nodded.
“I like to do my own driving,” Martin said, and he climbed behind the wheel. It was only a ten-minute drive, and then Martin was parking in a small lot, sparsely populated with other expensive looking cars. The lot was next to a dock, with row after row of massive yachts. Martin led her to one, where a small crew was preparing to launch.
“This is Captain Reynolds,” James said, introducing Viola to a tanned man with a thick Mediterranean accent.