Forever with the Billionaire

Hillary POV

It’s been two days since the incidents at the party and the hospital. A day after it all happened, Loukas was discharged from the hospital. When Rotimi and I informed him about how he moved his right fingers, he took therapy more seriously, and he woke up earlier and waited for me in the therapy room.

When I entered, he was moving around with the wheeled walker and didn’t acknowledge my presence as I walked in.

He was back to his usual annoying self. “You are thirty-five minutes late,” he said as he wheeled himself towards me. “What happened to your routine, huh?” He scoffed and wheeled himself away from me.

I dropped a few books in my arms on the desk and tried to explain myself. “I am so sorry for coming late, Mr. Whitemore, but I figured that you needed rest since you just came back from the hospital, and as your therapist…”

“As my therapist, you need to know that there is no time to waste and you need to know what I want all the time,” he stated.

All the time? I scoffed at that because he was insinuating that I needed to be available for him all the time, which was weird because I had things I wanted to do in my leisure time. “You need to know that I have things to do too, sir,” I told him, but he didn’t bother responding and wheeled himself towards the couch.

“You are all talk and no action,” he hissed. “Now that there’s been an improvement in my right hand, let’s move to today’s therapy.” Don’t forget about your six-month plan. ”

I rolled my eyes and sat in front of him. He didn’t have to remind me about that because I had it all planned out. “I need you to lie down,” I told him.

“Are you fucking stupid?” He asked me, which sounded a little offensive, but I’ve heard worse. I raised my brows in confusion, having no idea why he would call me that. “You are impossible,” he said through gritted teeth. “You know that I can’t move my body on my own!” He reminded me.

Oh! I forgot about that. “I’m so sorry,” I stood up from my chair and placed my hands around his waist as I helped him lie down on the couch. After making sure that he was comfortable, I let go of his waist and tried to sit down, but he grabbed my hand and pulled me into his arms.

“What the hell are you even doing?” I asked him and tried to wriggle out of his hold, but he held on tightly to my waist. “What do you want?” The memory of our kiss at the hospital flashed through my head and I could feel the beating of my heart against my ribcage. My face was buried in his neck and I could smell his cologne. It was strong and had a good strong scent that was alluring. It smelled like a rainforest, and for a moment, I thought I was in the forest.

“I… ” Loukas cleared his throat as he couldn’t say anything. He let go of my waist and cleared his throat. I apologize for that. I thought I saw something in your neck, “he stated, and I could detect the lie in his tone. Loukas was not good at lying, and even though he tried to hide how he felt, it was obvious that he felt something for me.

It was the same as me. I liked him and was attracted to him, but I still haven’t figured out what I wanted from him because he was difficult to understand. One time he is caring and the other time he is moody as if the whole world is against him. I tucked my braided hair behind my ear and sat down on the chair. Clearing my throat, I began the therapy section. “Today is all about motor imagery,” I explained, and he nodded in agreement. “Motor imagery,” I stood up and turned on the TV in the room. He was facing it, and he didn’t need to raise his head before he could see because the couch was high enough for him to be comfortable. I picked up the USB cable from my table and inserted it on the left side of the TV, and when a video came on the screen, I played it for him.

The video first showed a man who moved his hands a few times and also walked around a couple of times. “What is the use of motor imagery?” He asked.NôvelDrama.Org owns all © content.

I pointed to the screen. ” This form of therapy sends signals to your brain and watching the videos or pictures of people raising their hands or legs triggers a change in your body and if you can continue like that for weeks then there will surely be an improvement!” I told him, and he nodded in response and continued watching the video.

I walked towards him and bent lower to his level. I raised his right hand and he turned to look at me. “Watch the video, Loukas,” I said quietly, and he didn’t object as he stared at the screen. I raised his hand and gently laid it back beside him. I raised it again and repeated the whole thing five times. “Do you remember anything from your accident?” I asked him but he didn’t respond and pretended that I wasn’t there. I told him, “It’s okay if you don’t want to answer, but I need to know to make you feel better.” He turned to face me and, not knowing that he had turned his head toward me, I also turned my head toward him. Our lips were so closed that I could feel his breath on mine.

“I want to kiss you right now,” he whispered and raised his left hand to touch my face. “Your lips are so soft, and I can’t help but want to taste them every time I’m around you,” he said as he gently pushed my head toward him. I didn’t resist and let our lips touch.

I felt the butterflies in my stomach, which sounded cliche as hell, but it was how I felt toward him. His lips slowly moved against mine, and I found myself touching his face as the kiss deepened. The hair on my body rose, and as the kiss became intense, his hand left my face and trailed down my neck. “Fuck, your lips taste good,” he whispered in between the kisses. I moaned in pleasure as his hand trailed down my neck and down to my chest.

I shouldn’t be doing this, I thought as his hand fondled my left breast. My legs shook terribly where I knelt, and I thought that I could faint due to his touch. I shouldn’t be doing this, I reminded myself yet again and gasped when his lips met with my neck. He sucked on my neck while I moaned in pleasure. “I…” I finally spoke up and grabbed his hand that fondled my breast. “We…” I swallowed the invisible lump in my throat.

“You don’t want this?” He asked and stared into my eyes.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I finally dared to say something. It was wrong of us to be kissing when we are always at each other’s throats. I believed that we needed to figure out our feelings and even though the attraction between us was strong and inevitable because we touched all the time, I knew Loukas was not the type for a relationship. “What are we?” I asked him.

He blinked and dropped his hand beside him. “What do you think we are?” He questioned him back.

I cleared my throat and scratched the back of my head. “I believe that we are attracted to one another and you…”

“You think?” Loukas chuckled. I didn’t find what I had just said funny because I was being serious. I frowned at him and shrugged my shoulders, wondering why he was laughing so hard. “If you think that we meant something, then you are crazy,” he stated bluntly. “I don’t believe in relationships and don’t believe in love!” He dropped the bombshell.

It was what I expected him to say. For a man who doesn’t care about that, I expected that from him. Someone like him was incapable of love. “You mean you are not attracted to me?”

“Of course I am,” he answered, and my heart skipped a beat. “You are an attractive woman, and I can’t keep my hands off of you!”

“Why?”

Are you fucking stupid?” He shouted at me. “Can’t you read the room, Hillary?” Loukas tutted. “I’m attracted to you because I want to fuck you! Even though my right side is useless, I still know how to handle a woman! ”

Tears welled up in my eyes at the sudden discovery, but I blinked them away. I refused to look weak in front of him. “I… ” I sniffled and turned my face away from his. I stood up from the ground and turned my back on him. I wiped my eyes as I felt a tear roll down my face. “I’m sorry you can’t fuck me,” I chuckled, turning to face him. “Let’s keep the therapy going,” I chuckled, and he just stared at me as if I had two heads. I knelt beside him and helped him raise his leg. “Motor imagery has proven to be one of the most effective treatments for hemiplegic patients,” I explained to him as I raised his legs.

He tried to say something, but I pointed to the TV screen. “Hillary….” He called my name.

“Please keep an eye on the TV screen, Mr. Whitemore,” I said formally again. He didn’t say a word after that and followed my instructions.

What was I thinking when I thought that we could figure out our feelings? He was a cold man with a stone heart. He had given up on a lot of things, and nothing could change how he felt.

Not even me. Who was I to change him?