Claimed by the Billionaire: Rescue #3 by Danielle Jamesen Page A

bed to see the lover” look
not “everyone thinks I’m a slut” look.
    Bradley was there
thirty minutes later, in casual clothes, which I had never seen him in. Even in
Vegas, he had always woken up before me and I had always seen him clean and
pressed. Tonight, however, his hair was messy, falling over his eyes, his shirt
crumpled — just a regular t-shirt, faded and old — and his pants were baggy on
him.
    “Hey.” He said
bashfully.
    I ushered him in
quickly before anyone could take any photos.
    “Were you followed?” I
asked, feeling ridiculous.
    He cast a glance around
my living room and I wondered what he was thinking, “No. I don’t think so. At
least I hope not. You don’t happen to have any booze, do you?”
    “Yeah, I do,” I went
over to the kitchen, Bradley trailing after me, looking slowly around the room,
“What do you want?”
    “Scotch.” Bradley said
bluntly.
    “Uhm…I have vodka.”
    “I’ll have it. Just
throw some ice in it.”
    I paused again, “It is
actually birthday cake flavored vodka.”
    He looked at me with a
bemused expression on his face, “Even better.”
    I poured him a glass of
the birthday cake flavored vodka I had but I made myself some tea. I needed
something that would help me unwind and while alcohol would do that, my tolerance
was non-existent. One drink was enough sometimes to make me drunk and it was
embarrassing.
    “So,” Bradley said
after taking a sip of his drink, “You and I both knew that Winter catching us
like that wouldn’t be used somehow.”
    I sighed, “I was hoping
it wouldn’t be like this.”
    “Me too.”
    We lapsed into silence
as I poured out my tea. Bradley rubbed his face as though he could wipe
everything clear from his brain in order to sleep.
    I finally said what I
had been thinking, “I’m going to have to quit.”
    He jerked his head up,
“Why?”
    “Are you serious,
Bradley? Of course I’m going to have to quit. It’s all over the news that
you’re fucking your ‘personal assistant’. It makes you look bad and it makes me
look terrible. The best way would be to cut it clean and run.”
    “But, Serena, what
about a job?”
    I shrugged, “I don’t
know. I’ll find something.”
    “What if I keep you on
the payroll?”
    “Then it feels like you
are paying me to sleep with me.”
    Bradley sighed, “Let me
help then.”
    “I can’t.” I protested.
    “Serena,” Bradley said,
getting up and walking over to me, “This is my fault. I got you involved in
this mess with Winter. I can’t just have you quit and go penniless, not with
Greg.”
    “Let me think about it,
okay?” I said.
    Bradley nodded and
trailed his fingers up and down my arms. His touch was comforting. He leaned
down and kissed me but I pulled away.
    “Not here,” I said,
“Greg could wake up.”
    “I haven’t seen your
bedroom yet.” He said to me, a little smile on his face.
    I took his hand and
pulled him towards my room. I wished I had tidied it up but I naively thought
we wouldn’t have ended up here. Silly, foolish but I didn’t mind. He was seeing
my room as I liked it — the bed unmade, the TV on and making a quiet,
comforting glow and low hum. My closet was open with some clothes thrown about.
    “You’re a bit messy.”
He said in my ear.
    “Sorry we can’t all be
perfect like you.” I teased.
    Bradley wrapped his
arms around me from behind, kissing along my neck, “You’re perfect to me.”
    I felt that melting
feeling again, one that was I getting to know extremely well. He knew just what
to say, I thought, he always did. Winter started to fade away in the background
as he kissed my neck again, his hands trailing across my stomach.
    “I missed you.” He
admitted in my ear.
    “I did too.”
    Bradley slowly moved
his hands to my breasts, cupping each one. I hadn’t been wearing a bra because
I was at home and his hands touched me through the thin fabric. He pinched both
of my nipples causing my body to quiver. He laughed a