The Billionaire Bachelor (Billionaire Bad Boys Book 1) Read online

  “On your part, you mean?” It was him who’d walked away from her and hadn’t pursued or so much as kissed her on the mouth since that night in the moonlight. The night she’d allowed him to strip her almost bare and bend her over the desk. Part of her felt embarrassed and angry that she’d let him that close, but another more dominant part still pulsed with rejection that he hadn’t sent her a sideways glance since.

  “Both our parts,” he corrected. “Lately we’ve been distant. Understandable, seeing as how busy we’ve been.”

  “Busy?” She let out a sharp laugh. “You tore me out of my clothes and left me by the stairs.” She pressed her lips together before she said too much. The last thing she needed was for him to know how she felt. In the race for control, she needed to hold on to as much as possible. Reese was a predator, and she refused to be the wounded, weaker prey.

  “We agreed getting physical would be confusing,” he said, seeing right through her.

  “Who agreed?” she asked, dropping her fork.

  Reese sent her a blank look that pissed her right off. How inconvenient he had to live with a woman who demanded they have “real” feelings and “real” conversations. How silly of her, expecting to be treated like a human being.

  “It’s not ideal, I admit,” he said while she silently fumed. “I can have the house staff reduce their hours so they’re here when we’re not. That way, we can— Where are you going?” he asked when she pushed away from the table.

  “I’m tired,” she clipped, feeling a swell of emotion hit her like an anvil. She had to get out of here before he saw her cry. She darted from the dining room and ran up the stairs, trying to quell the tears that burned the backs of her eyes.

  She was so damn lonely she couldn’t stand it. No more morning coffees with her mother, no more late-night chats when she returned home and found her father waiting by the television. She even missed talking to Arnold at the desk when she worked late at the Van Heusen. When she was at work, she was busy, and when she was out to dinner with Reese, she couldn’t completely be herself, and when she was here in the house, she was alone. Even with him in the same room, she felt utterly alone.

  In the bedroom’s en suite, she stripped out of her work clothes and stepped into a hot shower, allowing the tears to come as she softly sobbed under the water. When she’d met Corbin, he was attentive and fun and always smiling. He was complimentary and, yes, completely and utterly immature. But he’d filled an emotional need she’d been trying to ignore since he split with everything she had in her bank account.

  Since then, she’d stayed busy, occasionally dating and being she-woman, able to handle her job, work overtime, and date the occasional underwhelming prospect. But today, just weeks into her marriage, Merina was exceptionally fragile. She couldn’t be she-woman today. She just wanted to be a woman. She wanted to be vulnerable and open and emotional and unreasonable.

  She wanted someone to hold her while she was all of those things.

  But there was no one.

  * * *

  He gave Merina a few minutes before following in the direction she’d disappeared. When he reached their bedroom and heard the shower on, he started to retreat. Until he picked out another sound beneath the pounding water.

  Crying.

  Soft, tender sobs he could tell she was trying to hide. Trying to stop. And they absolutely froze him in his tracks.

  He hadn’t taken her emotions into consideration since the night he ran from his past demons. He’d walled up, closed in, focused on work, and figured she was doing the same.

  But Merina wasn’t like him. That was her most beautiful attribute. She was led by her heart, not her sense of duty and business. He’d held the Van Heusen over her head, but it was ultimately her caring nature that had made her say “I do.” He’d taken that good faith, and the real connection they’d forged, then frozen it solid.

  Part of which pissed him off—he wasn’t good for her, good for anyone, and she should avoid getting involved with him any more than necessary. He’d lost control in that darkened office when he kissed her, but vowed not to go there again. He respected her enough to leave her alone. His chest crumpled as another soft sob came from the other room. Not the staged cries of his ex, who would have turned on the waterworks to gain sympathy or her way, but real, soul-rending sadness Merina was desperately trying to hide.

  Maybe she didn’t want to be alone.

  He hovered in the middle of the room, unsure what to do next. Indecision in general made him uncomfortable. Rarely did he not know the next step. Silently, he turned over his options. Leave her to herself or wait for her to come out. The latter would risk her lashing out, but he wasn’t that big of a dick that he didn’t realize this was his fault, at least in part.

  The man in him who was used to delegating the messy emotions of his past relationships wanted the latter. He was embarrassingly bad at these sorts of things, and it showed. But the husband in him knew he’d hurt her and wanted her to be okay. That, he wouldn’t run away from.

  Even though he had no idea what the fuck he’d say when she same out, he took off his suit jacket, rested it over the arm of the couch, sat, and waited. He didn’t have to wait long.

  Within a few minutes, the water shut off, and a few minutes after that, Merina exited the bathroom, a white towel wrapped around her body. His eyes went to the tattoo peeking out over one covered breast, the arrow whose meaning he didn’t know. Her shoulders were beaded with water droplets from her damp hair, the golden hue darker because it was wet.

  Her red-rimmed eyes went wide, surprised to see him, no doubt.

  He felt a physical pain he didn’t know what to do with in the vicinity of his heart. In the minutes he sat here, he hadn’t thought of how to start the conversation. Turned out there was no need, because she spoke first.

  “What are you doing up here?” Her anger snapped into place. He knew the diversion well, since he often used anger to mask his true feelings. She wanted him to believe that’s all this was, her being upset because he was an ass. His instincts told him this was deeper than that. More complicated than that.

  Exactly what he’d been running from for two weeks—technically for five years. But Merina wasn’t Gwyneth, and if he thought for a second he could handle Merina the same way, he was a bigger idiot than she thought he was.

  He didn’t answer, knowing his words wouldn’t be heard, so instead he followed her to her closet.

  “Do you mind?” She spun on him, anger flashing in her eyes.

  “We need to resolve this,” he started, but the words felt wrong. A second later he learned they were.

  “Oh, did you come up here to renegotiate?” She opened a drawer and rifled through the pile of lace and silk panties. One hand holding the towel over her breasts, she shook black lace at him. “So we can impress your stupid board tomorrow?” Her cheeks reddened. “What if I don’t feel like playing dancing monkey to your organ? What if I decide to be my real, true self instead of the plastic me you insist on?”

  “Are you forgetting the purpose of this marriage, Merina?” Also the wrong thing to say, but she’d lit his temper the second she’d issued the threat. Real or not, he didn’t care for her dangling her loyalty over his head. That crumpling feeling in his chest turned into a cave-in, the walls falling down around him.

  “You endure me until I’m named CEO and receive the Van Heusen in return. Is it so hard?” He couldn’t lose CEO, not now that he’d come this far.

  “It’s occurring to me I didn’t negotiate enough into my end of the deal, Crane. Enduring you is more difficult than I anticipated.”

  The moment she spoke, her mouth froze open. He could see the hint of apology in the way she averted her gaze, but a second later, she pressed her lips together and elevated her chin. Committed to her path.

  “Don’t worry about my feelings, Merina. I have none.” Again, her eyes slipped to the side. She was unaccustomed to being nasty. “Tell me again how hard your lif
e is.” He lifted his arms to gesture around the massive master bedroom. “Your meals are made. You can sleep in any one of ten bedrooms. Your food is prepared by someone else, your messes cleaned for you. You have access to a yacht and a spending account to do with as you please.”

  “Is this a guilt trip?” she snapped. He didn’t acknowledge her interruption. He’d worked hard for what he had—what he was practically handing her—and refused to let her off the hook so easily.

  “At the end of your time served,” he bit out, “you will have the hotel I purchased at market value free and clear. What more could you have possibly asked for?” He hadn’t pegged her for a gold digger but damn. What fucking else?

  She wrestled on her panties, her movements jerky, the towel slipping slightly and giving him a view of one luscious thigh.

  “What else, indeed?” she grumbled, her voice wavering the slightest bit. “That’s all there is to life, isn’t there?” She speared him with those red eyes again.

  “That about covers it,” he answered.

  “What about family?” Her eyebrows lifted and dropped. She took a step closer to him. “Emotional connection?”

  Cold sweat prickled along his shirt collar.

  “Sex. Closeness. A night spent in someone’s arms instead of being alone.” With each example, she came closer. Until she was standing in front of him, chin elevated, holding his eyes unwavering.

  Closeness.

  If there was one thing he was not capable of giving, it was friendship. He’d buy her the moon. He’d fuck her silly. But that kind of closeness wasn’t up for grabs. Not even in exchange for the coveted CEO of Crane Hotels. Not for anything.

  “I’m just tired.” She retreated and wrestled into a T-shirt without flashing him, then dropped the towel, exposing her legs briefly before she jammed them into a pair of long, stretchy pants. “Never mind.”

  “Never mind,” he repeated as she bumped past him. “Is that like fine?” Because as he’d learned, fine was bad. Never mind didn’t sound much better.

  She shot him a confused look before climbing into bed and snatching a book off the nightstand. “I’ll probably read a little, then call Lorelei. I need someone to talk to.” She looked up after opening the book in the middle. “Apparently that’s not in my contract. Do I need to go elsewhere or will you be leaving this room soon?”

  Oh, hell no.

  He stalked to the bed, took the book from her hand, and tossed it onto the couch that had been his bed for the last few weeks, but of course she’d ignored that sacrifice on his part.

  “Hey!” she protested.

  He bent over her, hands fisted on the bed at either side of her gorgeous, hidden body. “Who do you think you’re talking to, Mrs. Crane?”

  Her eyes flared, but not from anger and not from fear. From lust so thick he could taste it on his tongue.

  “Will sex fix it?” he asked.

  She looked infuriated, then slightly chagrined.

  “Will it?” he demanded.

  “Of course not,” she murmured, unable to look anywhere but at his mouth.

  He leaned closer, then a little closer, until his lips pressed hers. He slanted his mouth, but gently, giving her every opportunity to shove him away. To tell him no.

  She did neither.

  Instead, she reached for the back of his neck and tugged him close, until he was forced to shift his weight or lose his balance.

  Hand under her ass, he moved her to the center of the bed, pressing every hardening inch of his body against every giving inch of hers.

  “I made you cry,” he said when he pulled away. Her fingers threaded into the back of his hair.

  “Yes,” she whispered.

  “I don’t like that I made you cry.”

  “So don’t do it again.” She laid the softest kiss on his mouth. “Sex might not fix it, but it’s worth a shot.”

  The hold on his libido slipped.

  “God, I want you.” He tightened his grip on her ass.

  “Then take me.” She fisted his shirt and dragged him closer. Seconds later, his tie was tossed aside, the buttons undone one by one.

  He continued moving his tongue against hers, tasting the salt from her tears and the heady, spicy flavor of her mouth. She smelled of shampoo and soap and all he wanted to do was bury his nose between her thighs and absolutely devour her. He didn’t know how to fix her hurts deep down, but he knew how to make her forget them for now. And so far, she was willing to concede that point.

  He’d take it.

  But this wasn’t just for her. No, there was a selfish part of him that needed her to cover his deep hurts as well. Forget what led them to this point, what would be waiting for him when it was over. His need for her was unlike any he’d felt before.

  He was a starving man, and she was his feast.

  * * *

  This is crazy.

  This is crazy.

  But the words were drowned by the pulsating demands of her body. Reese was turning her inside out. She needed what he was offering. She needed to be taken, kissed hard, held down, fucked until she was begging for it.

  Her emotions couldn’t be trusted in his care, this she knew, but her body…her body was a different story. Reese Crane was an expert—knew exactly what a woman wanted, what a woman needed. She happened to be a wanting, needing woman.

  He lifted her shirt over her head, his talented mouth closing over her nipple. Her hands dug into his hair, anchoring herself to him. Where before she was filled with despair and loneliness, now she was filled with longing and anticipation.

  So much better.

  He reached between her legs and cupped her sex and let her nipple go with a subtle pop. “Hot.”

  “Wet,” she returned on a breath. Being hidden away with him here, having a shared secret…she liked it way more than she should. It was indulgent in the best possible way.

  His lips met hers again, the rough scrape of his jaw welcome. She parted her legs where he was still touching her while she explored the planes of his muscled, bare chest. His golden skin, an army of abdominal muscles, and the scant trail of hair arrowing straight for the part of him she wanted to see most of all.

  She cupped the erection straining his suit pants and he grunted, increasing the friction of his hand between her legs. She squirmed, all but coming on the spot—with her top off and her pants on.

  “Not yet, you don’t.” The playful side of him intrigued her and only made her want him more. “Wait for me.”

  She wanted to wait. She wanted him inside her before she allowed her control to ebb, her body to uncoil. Given the buzz in her limbs, her orgasm would be all-consuming and she wanted to consume him with it.

  She was tired of doing things alone.

  Quickly, she unthreaded his belt, and when she reached for his zipper, he grunted a warning. “Careful.”

  She went slowly, unzipping as she slipped her other hand into his pants to protect his bare skin from the angry metal teeth. He was hard and heavy against her palm.

  “Reese’s rocket,” she said against his mouth. His eyes closed, robbing her of the pleasure simmering there. “In the flesh.”

  His eyes opened. “What am I going to do with you, Merina?”

  “I think you know.”

  Proving he did, his mouth dropped to hers briefly, then he was up, peeling off his clothes and yanking open the nightstand drawer on the opposite side of the bed. Merina kicked out of her yoga pants, eyes on the gold foil packet between Reese’s teeth.

  The promise of what was to come rattled her nerves and set her aflame. Maybe she was wrong earlier. Sex with him might fix everything after all.

  Panties off, she tossed them to the floor. Reese rolled the condom on, stroking himself once more, twice more. She bit down on her bottom lip, her eyes on those coveted inches wrapped in his strong fist. He depressed the bed with a knee and came to her.

  “Say yes, Merina.” Her name rolled off his tongue, his deep timbre seducing her e
ars. He parted her legs with one knee and settled between her thighs.

  At the same time the word yes hissed from between her teeth, he buried himself to the hilt. Every. Last. Inch.

  She crossed her ankles at his back, holding him close. With powerful thrusts he plunged into her again and again. This need had been vibrating between them for the last few weeks—hell, maybe the last month. The attraction between them had always an inferno they’d tried futilely to keep from lighting.

  Pity. Because this was damn good.

  One hand at her lower back, he canted her hips and pushed into her again. Her eyelids slid shut as a moan of encouragement eked from her throat.

  “Finally,” he said through labored breaths. Then he smiled, inordinately pleased with himself. “Found it.”

  “We’ll see,” she lied. Because he had. Each sharp thrust pinged an innermost part of her, snapping another thread on her control.

  “Give it to me, Merina,” he demanded, still working, still thrusting.

  “Not until…” Droves of tingles ran a race from her toes to her face. “…you.”

  “Ladies first. I insist.” He drew out slowly before driving into her, and a sharp cry of pleasure came from her parted lips.

  They had sex the same way they fought, fighting to maintain control as long as possible. But just as the thought came that she wouldn’t let him win this battle, she surrendered. Another thrust and her back arched, an orgasm rocking her. He followed, surrendering with her, his groans of pleasure loud in her ears.

  Lights exploded behind her eyes and part of her registered that she was being loud. Which Reese probably ate up with a spoon. Egomaniac. Even that snide thought couldn’t erase the buoyancy that overtook her chest, the pleasant blankness that covered her mind, the feeling of being a part of someone else—the closeness she’d mentioned earlier.

  Seconds, minutes—hell, who knew how long—passed before she opened her eyes, feeling as if she’d surfaced from a drugged haze. Reese was propped on his elbows over her, eyes hooded, breathing heavy. From inside her, his cock pulsed. She gave him a squeeze.