BWWM: Bad Boy Billionaires Box Set (A Bad Boy BWWM Billionaire Collection) Page 4

  I arrived a little after 7:40 PM. Christoff was standing quietly when I arrived. He was wearing a thin black sleeveless shirt that clung to his athletic body, a thick heavily studded leather belt, and black pants tucked into a pair of black military style combat boots. I was drawn to his ultra-masculine stature and the intensity in his demeanor. He was larger than life. He looked pensive.

  “I’m so sorry, I’m late.”

  Christoff looked over at me without responding. He looked me up and down before drawing a breath. “I’m always on time. And if by rare occasion I’m not on time then I’m early. I don’t like waiting for anyone. I almost left.” His German accent came out hard and thick.

  “I’m sorry Christoff. I had to take care of something at work. I got a call...”

  He assertively held up his hand to silence me. I abruptly stopped speaking before I finished telling him my story about why I was late. “I almost left. But I didn’t. Something told me to stay. I hope I didn’t make a mistake.”

  “I’m really glad you stayed.” I forced a tense smile. I already felt awful that I was late, and now I felt even worse that Christoff was upset with me. I furrowed my brow.

  “You seem tense Gia. Relax.” He squeezed my shoulder firmly.

  “Well, I’m uncomfortable because you’re angry with me.” My voice was assertive, but I couldn’t look Christoff in the eye. I looked directly at the ground instead.

  “I’m not angry. I’m just direct. All I said is I don’t like waiting, nothing more, nothing less. Relax.” Christoff embraced me. I felt at peace in his arms. “Let’s get some gelato.” He guided me toward the gelato shop.

  We ate gelato together as we walked toward Lake Michigan, my favorite spot in Chicago. I was so thrilled Christoff suggested going to the lake. We walked along the lake front trail, until we got to my favorite bench. I told Christoff about how I came to this bench every Thursday evening after work to admire the city skyline against the water and to reflect on life. He shared with me some of his rituals that made him happy, including how he liked to withdraw from the city and go to his cabin in the German countryside whenever he was working on his music. I was always intrigued by an artist’s creative process, especially Christoff’s. I was so drawn to everything about him, and not just in a celeb-obsessed groupie way. I did see him as larger than life, but I also felt an authentic connection with him on a very human level. I told him all about the big story I was writing, even though I probably shouldn’t have, but I could tell he was no gossip. Christoff was pretty quiet, but when he spoke he always had something interesting to say. He was extremely reserved, but I could still sense his interest in me. His eyes would light up whenever I opened my mouth to speak, and he seemed to hang on my every word. He wasn’t as bubbly and giddy as me, but he still chuckled at all my jokes.

  We were sitting close to each other but we weren’t touching. It was getting late, and I needed to head back to my apartment soon so that I could go to bed and be up for work the next morning. I really wanted to finish the article I started. But even more than that, I wanted Christoff to kiss me before the night was over. He was so sexually assertive the other night on his private jet, but other than when he hugged me ‘hello’ he hadn’t really touched me tonight, aside from gently touching my knee a few times.

  “I need to start heading back to my place so I can be ready for work tomorrow. You know I have to finish that article I told you about.”

  “Aww, ditching me for work again. I see.” Christoff exaggerated his disappointment for dramatic effect.

  “Don’t guilt me Christoff. I told you I had to work this week.” I playfully slapped his massive bicep.

  “Fair enough. Can I come spend the night with you at your place?”

  I hesitated. I didn’t want über rich and famous rock star, Christoff Diemacht Hartmann, to see my modest and messy one-bedroom apartment. I was certain he was accustomed to better living quarters. “No, that’s okay, we can just meet up again tomorrow.”

  “Oh so are you trying to give me a hint that you’ve already had enough of me this week?” Christoff teased. I could tell he knew I couldn’t get enough of him, even though I tried to play it cool.

  “No, that’s not it at all. I just think you would be more comfortable in your posh hotel than in my cramped apartment.”

  “Gia, don’t peg me for some snobby rock star. You know I used to work in a factory before my band made it big. Back then I was living in East Berlin, in a tiny studio apartment that just had a futon for me to sleep on, and a chair and a table for me to write on, that’s it. I’m actually kind of offended that you think I can’t handle staying in your apartment.”

  I placed my hand on Christoff’s thigh. “Don’t be offended. I just want you to be comfortable. And I’m embarrassed. My apartment is a mess. I’ve been really busy this week and haven’t had time to clean.”

  Christoff interrupted my litany of excuses as to why he couldn’t stay the night by placing his index finger to his lips. “Shhh, you don’t have to explain yourself to me. If you don’t want me to stay the night, you don’t want me to stay the night. I respect your space. C’mon, let me get you a town car to get you back.” Christoff stood up and took his smart phone out of his pocket.

  “Wait.” I stood up facing Christoff. “Why haven’t you kissed me tonight? I’m just curious.”

  “We’re in public. I’m not into PDA.” I leaned in so that my face was close to Christoff’s. I pretended I was going to kiss him but I didn’t. “Could you please not do that. I mean it, I don’t kiss in public.” His tone was firm but there was an impish twinkle in his eye.

  “Why? Are you too embarrassed to be seen kissing me in public?” I teased Christoff playfully as I wrapped my arms around his neck and laid my head on one of his broad shoulders. He tried to put some space between us by backing away but the bench was behind him.

  “Absolutely not. Being seen with you in public actually makes me feel like more of a rock star than I already am. But the thing is, I can’t do PDA. I am an extremely tactile person. So if you start touching me then I’m going to start touching you and I won’t be able to stop. It’s really is quite the embarrassing little problem I have, so I’d rather not get anything started that I can’t finish.”

  “Oh really now?” I rubbed my bosom against his chest and I nuzzled my nose in the crook of his neck. His body was warm.

  “You think I’m kidding but I’m not. I suggest that you let go of me if you want to get home by your bedtime,” Christoff threatened. I continued to press my body against him and I felt all of his muscles tense. I softly ran my nose from his neck up to his ear.

  “Just what is it exactly that you’re threatening to do to me?” I whispered in his ear. My tone was playful yet seductive. I felt his hardness swell in the narrow space between my waist and his.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he growled.

  In one swift motion he scooped me up and tossed me over his shoulder, caveman style. He held my yellow sundress down with his massive forearm. I squealed with delight and surprise. It was dark out now, and barely anyone was out in the park or the beach areas that surrounded the lake. Christoff carried me to a grassy spot away from the trail, and behind a row of trees. He laid me down on the ground and within seconds he was on top of me. He kissed me deeply and passionately as he moved my panties to the side and plunged two fingers inside of my eager wetness. I let out a soft moan. He used his other hand to undo his belt buckle. It was clear that he was intensely focused on getting his manhood inside of me as quickly as possible, but in his haste he struggled to get his pants undone on the first try. He let out a frustrated grunt as he withdrew his hand from underneath my dress, and used both hands to remove his belt and wrestle his zipper down.

  I was so turned on by his sexually charged frenzy. His jaw was tense and there was a mad fire in his gaze that I was proud to have ignited. He lifted my legs so that my knees were pressed against my chest and my feet were draped
over his shoulders. My heart almost beat out of my chest, and my head was spinning with excitement. I had never been intimate in public before, let alone with one of the sexiest rock stars on the planet.

  Christoff lowered his body between my legs. He used one hand to pin both my wrists to the ground above my head and he used his other hand to assertively guide himself into me. I let out a deep uneven breath as I felt his weight come down on top of me. I had never been in such a submissive position before. He was in complete control. Although I was hesitant to admit it to myself, it felt really good to let go. I relinquished all my power to him and I let him have his way with me, right there on a plot of grass alongside Lake Michigan and the picturesque Chicago skyline.

  Chapter 4

  I didn’t get to bed until pretty late. Christoff and I had spent most of the night lying on the grass admiring the stars and the city skyline, all lit up. He held me in his arms and sang to me. It was a moment unlike one I had ever experienced. I loved Christoff’s voice. I had all of his band’s albums, but to have him sing to me personally quite literally took my breath away. Prying myself out of his arms to go back home to my apartment was torture, but I managed. I was excited about all of the cool projects I had going on at work. Although I didn’t get much sleep, I still had enough energy to function. I made sure to be super efficient at work so I wouldn’t be late meeting Christoff again.

  I took my lunch break to go buy a new pair of shoes to compliment the red dress I was wearing. I picked a pair of black four-inch patent leather heels with a platform in the front. I rarely wore heels at all and I’ve certainly never worn heels that high before. But there is a first time for everything, and tonight was a once in a lifetime experience. I was going out on the town with Christoff in Chicago’s posh River North neighborhood. We were grabbing dinner at Paris Club, the hottest restaurant in Chicago, then we were going to get drinks at one of Donald Trump’s rooftop bars. It was going to be absolutely fabulous. I was so excited. I got compliments on my dress all day at work, so I was feeling pretty hot.

  Work went by quickly and painlessly, and I got twice as much work done in half the time because I was fueled by adrenaline from Christoff being in town. Christoff offered to have Arman drive him to pick me up in the Lincoln Town Car at work. But I insisted on walking because it was such a nice summer evening. And I didn’t tell Christoff this, but I secretly wanted to parade through the streets so I could show off my nice red dress and my new shiny black shoes. He insisted on meeting me outside of my office and having us walk together. I obliged.

  I emerged from my office five minutes early, and Christoff was just arriving. It was a Thursday evening and my co-workers had already left to go get drinks. I was relieved, because I didn’t want any of them to know I was seeing one of the stars I had just interviewed for a story. My colleagues and my boss alike always wondered how I managed to land such amazing stories. I didn’t want them to think it was because I was sleeping with celebrities. I wanted to be respected for my work ethic and taken seriously as a journalist. So far I had managed to keep things quiet about Christoff at work. I hadn’t even told my closest friends.

  And somehow we were under the media’s radar. Shockingly, no one had stopped Christoff for autographs or pictures when I was with him. He said depending upon what city he was in, sometimes he was bombarded by fans when he went out in public. But he said in Chicago people either didn’t recognize him or just chose not to approach him. He was definitely an international star, but not everyone followed heavier music like Aus Deutschland the way they followed mainstream pop and rap music, so Christoff had a little bit of anonymity by nature of the genre he performed in. Christoff said that he liked how he could be invisible in Chicago. He’s said in every interview and he’s even told me directly that he values his privacy and he’s actually pretty shy. He seemed relieved that he was blending in and he didn’t have to talk to strangers the way he did in some other cities.

  Christoff’s entire face lit up as he approached me. His eyes lingered as he took all of me in. “Nice.” A sexy smile spread across his face.

  “Thank you.” I blushed. Christoff was just so naturally breathtaking that there really were no words to describe what his presence did for me, so I just looked him up and down and flashed him a devilish grin. He was wearing a white button-down shirt with an exaggerated collar, a black blazer and black pants that fit his body perfectly.

  He pulled me into his embrace. “Actually, nice is an understatement. I hate to be crude but I can’t wait to get under that hot little dress of yours.” His forwardness made my entire body tingle but I wanted to get out on the town so I didn’t encourage him.

  “Christoff!” I admonished as I swatted him away from me with my purse. “Let’s get going so we can make our reservation.”

  “Oh, when did you suddenly become so punctual?”

  I gave him a cutting glare. He let out a self-satisfied chuckle. I led the way and Christoff trailed behind a bit. I knew he was checking me out, so I let my hips swing as I strutted ahead. I felt his eyes linger on my bottom for awhile, before he picked up his pace and caught up to me. Christoff told me he had been to Chicago several times, but he had never been to Paris Club. He said he was pretty excited to see what all the fanfare was about. It had been far too long since I had been, so I was delighted that we had gotten a reservation. And I was about to burst at the seams with excitement about going to Trump’s rooftop. The air was warm and sultry, and the city glowed as the sun sank into the horizon. The evening could not possibly have been any more perfect.

  I noticed that everyone we passed was checking me out. Christoff actually noticed before I did and he pointed it out. “Wow, every guy in town is checking you out tonight. They aren’t even bothering to be discreet about it.”

  “How do you know everyone isn’t looking at you, celebrity?”

  “Trust me. I know what those guys are thinking because at times I think just like them. I am completely invisible right now and all eyes are on you and they should be. You’re the star and you deserve it.”

  I was so flattered that I was actually getting more attention than Christoff Diemacht Hartmann. I secretly wanted the paparazzi to jump out of the bushes and start snapping photographs of us, but this wasn’t L.A. and there was no paparazzi. “I’ve been with a lot of men who get jealous and possessive when I get too much attention. There must be some part of you that is jealous that all of these men are looking at me.” I prodded.

  “Jealousy is not an issue with me. It never has been. I don’t care about other men checking you out in your hot dress and your sexy heels, because I have no doubts about who is going to be the lucky guy to get all the deliciousness underneath that dress.” Christoff’s eyes seemed to look through my clothes. “Let them look, but if they try to touch there will surely be trouble. Those guys should be jealous of me. Not the other way around.” Christoff smirked arrogantly. Ordinarily I wouldn’t approve of such premature over-confidence, but Christoff had me and he knew it. There was no way I could argue otherwise with a straight face.

  We were about a block away from the restaurant, and the sidewalks became more packed. I was delighted by the hustle and bustle of the city. I was strutting alongside Christoff, and telling him just how excited I was, when my heel got stuck in a grate on the side walk, and my ankle rolled sharply to the side. I tried to catch myself but I couldn’t. I hit the ground fast and hard and lost both shoes in the process. I let out a loud shriek as I went down. Everyone on both sides of the street looked at me.

  “Gia!” Christoff gasped.

  “Ow!” I let out an involuntary groan. “I’m okay,” I reassured, even though I had tears in my eyes from a combination of pain and embarrassment. Several people stopped and stared but no one offered to help me up.

  Christoff squatted down next to me and took a good look at my ankle. He tried to put one of my shoes back on for me but I winced in pain. “You’re not okay. I think you sprained it.”

&nb
sp; “No, I’m fine.” I whimpered as a single tear rolled down my cheek.

  “Let’s get you home.” Christoff said tenderly, as he handed me both my shoes and effortlessly scooped me into his arms.

  “No, I want to go out.” I pouted.

  “Well then, do you want me to put you down? You can put your shoes back on and I’ll race you to the restaurant.” Christoff feigned like he was going to put me back on the ground. I gave him a look of defeat as tears continued to well up in my eyes. He pulled me in close. My ankle really hurt, but not being able to go to Paris Club and Trump Tower was even more painful than my sprained ankle.

  “It’s okay, we’ll just have a quiet evening in and get some take-out,” Christoff soothed.

  “But I’m sure you didn’t come all the way to Chicago to stay in and eat take-out,” I whined.

  “Gia, stop it. You know I didn’t come to Chicago to sightsee and eat at restaurants. I can go anywhere I want in the world at any time that I please. I came here to see you and you know that. Now relax and just let me spend time with you.” Christoff spoke firmly but compassionately. He made his point and I was quiet.

  He carried me into the nearest restaurant and requested a bag of ice. He set me down on a barstool while he summoned Arman. In less than 10 minutes, Arman was outside with the town car. Christoff laid me down on the back seat and walked around to the other side and sat next to me. He held my feet in his lap and placed the bag of ice on my swollen ankle. When I complained that it was too cold, he took off his shirt and wrapped the ice with it, so that it was warm enough for me to tolerate on my skin. I was pretty independent and wasn’t used to being taken care of like this, but I don’t know what I would have done if Christoff wasn’t there when I fell. I’m so glad he insisted on meeting me and us walking there together. I should have just taken him up on his offer for a ride in the first place, then my fall would have never happened. But I guess that was water under the bridge at this point.