The Billionaires Club- The Complete Series

by Leslie North

  “Stays on the couch?” she finished, giggling as he swept her into a hug.

  “Exactly.” He grinned down her, looking as mischievous and vibrantly handsome as ever. God, she’d missed him. Even though work had been insane and she seemed to sleep every spare moment of the day, being around him again was invigorating. It made her forget all about the pregnancy exhaustion and the new stressors of the increasingly popular boutique. And more than all that, being around him reminded her that everything was going to be okay. The fights with her parents didn’t matter. Their opinion didn’t matter.

  All that mattered was this. The vivid and real connection they shared.

  Grayson pressed a soft kiss to her lips. Her eyes fluttered shut as she relished the cedar masculinity rolling off of him. It made her head spin. Like damn near everything about this man did.

  “I missed you,” she blurted, her throat tightening. Jeez, she hadn’t expected to cry too.

  He nodded, dragging his fingertips along her hairline as he searched her face. “I thought about you. Too much.”

  She smiled into his shoulder as they started a languid sway, almost like they were slow-dancing to the clamor of the audience below. “Same.”

  “I think we need to make up for lost time,” Grayson whispered into her ear. “Partially because it’s our last night like this. And partially because the sight of you in this evening gown has had me hard for the past hour.”

  Emotions swarmed her, and she was unable to pick which one to focus on first. Almost every bit of her wanted to ask what he meant by ‘last night,’ but the rational side of her reminded her that this was the last challenge. He means this is the end of the challenge. That’s all.

  Her thoughts dissolved as his mouth claimed hers once more. But this time, there was an urgency in his kiss. Something alive and vibrant that wiped everything else clean inside her, allowing room only for the intensity of their passion.

  She fell into step alongside him, allowing him to guide her backwards toward the chaise longue tucked into the back of the VIP box. He traced the curves of her body through the shimmery silver and gold dress, tugging at her bottom lip with his teeth while he carefully pushed the material up to her hips. When they broke for air, his tuxedo pants were tented with the thick ridge of his erection.

  “God, I’m moving fast,” he breathed, his gaze skating up and down her body. “I wanted to at least wait until the music started.”

  She giggled. “So we could have the appropriate soundtrack to our lovemaking?”

  Something flashed in his gaze and he looked away. She could hear him unfastening his pants, and then his lips were on her, smoothing over her bare shoulder, up along the ridge of her collarbone, skating up the curve of her neck. All the air in her body whooshed out in one giant expression of relief and satisfaction. This, right here. This was what her life was missing. The attentive, sweet kisses of a man who missed her when she was gone. A person who could light her up just from catching his eye across the opera box.

  They kissed slowly, deeply, meaningfully. When the lights dimmed, they didn’t even break for a breath, and when the opening soprano notes of the opera singer cut through the air, Mila finally let out the moan she’d been holding in.

  Grayson made quick work of his pants and filled the space between her legs, the heat of his cock finding the damp crease of her pussy. She inhaled sharply as he wiggled himself into place, and then suddenly the thick steel of him was filling her, making every inch of her body feel tingly and electric.

  Her head lolled back onto the longue as he thrust into her, filling her in such a way that defied explanation. She’d been with men before, but making love to a man had never felt like this. She supposed it was part of the reason why they’d accidentally created a baby together. This thing between them was explosive enough to warrant life, even when protection was taken.

  Mila fought not to make too much noise as Grayson pushed himself in and out of her. She clenched her thighs around his waist, tried and failed to fist her hands in the fitted material of his tuxedo jacket, while the opera singer waxed emotional about something in Italian. The background music amplified things, too, even causing her throat to tighten with emotion as Grayson’s lips grazed the shell of her ear.

  “You feel better than I remembered,” he whispered, just as the singer hit an impressively high note.

  “I know,” she responded, seeking out another kiss. “I don’t understand it.”

  He grunted softly, burying himself inside her again. He pressed damp kisses to her exposed cleavage. “I’m close, beautiful.”

  “Come inside me,” she begged, pushing her hands inside his jacket. The warmth of his body leaked through the crisp material of his fancy shirt. “Please, Grayson. I need it.”

  A devilish smile graced his lips, and he worked himself in and out of her faster then, giving her the pace and friction that she craved. She clutched at his biceps, allowing herself to fall over the edge just as the music crescendoed to its peak. The emotion of the moment thudded through her, pushing her into a dizzying climax. Grayson stilled against her, his abs jerking as he filled her with his pulses of pleasure. Amid the applause and the bliss, Mila let out a long, sated groan that got lost in the clamor of the audience.

  Once the clapping died down, Grayson rolled off of her, and they both laid back on the longue, breathing heavily. Mila stared at the ruffled curtains covering the ceiling of this box as the prancing, lighthearted notes of the next aria began.

  She sighed happily, rolling onto her side to find his gaze already waiting for hers. Something deep and sad shone in his face. Like he’d just been given bad news or something.

  “Grayson—” she started.

  “I’m going to miss this,” Grayson said overtop of her. His thumb stroked her cheek. “Now that this is all over.”

  His words thundered over her, sending a special type of panic coursing through her veins. She pushed up onto her elbows, feeling suddenly exposed. Her dress crumpled down over her spread legs.

  “What do you mean?”

  “The challenge is over, Mila. There’s no reason for us to keep spending time together like this. And honestly—”

  She held up a palm, heartbreak crashing down around her. She could barely believe what she was hearing. “Stop.”

  “Work is insane,” Grayson continued, as if she hadn’t said anything. “It needs all my focus right now, and I just can’t be in two places at once. But this is what’s best for us—for both of us,” Grayson said, his eyes wide, earnest, like he expected this to convince her. “This is what will let me provide for you and the baby. All it means is that we can’t keep doing what we’ve been doing,” Grayson said, sitting up so he could lean his elbows against his knees.

  “So you just wanted one last fuck for the road?” Mila asked, anger bubbling hot and vile inside her. She rearranged her panties before tossing the hem of her dress down. She slid the strap of her heel into place as she searched the box for her discarded handbag. “Real nice of you.”

  “No, it wasn’t like that. You know how we are—” Grayson began.

  “No, I know how I am. And I’m someone who believed that we had something meaningful and mutual going on here.” Her lower lip trembled, signaling the beginning of an emotional spiral that she couldn’t hope to contain.

  Grayson looked helpless. In the background, the staccato notes of the opera singing punctuated the air like spears. “I don’t know what you want to hear—”

  “Nothing. I want to hear nothing from you. Because you’ve already said all you needed to.”

  Mila pushed to standing, snatching her purse from the floor. Her chest throbbing, she stormed out of the VIP box and down the hallway, tears threatening at the corners of her eyes.

  Please come after me, Grayson. Please come after me and tell me that this is a big misunderstanding.

  The thought cycled through her like a prayer. Each step down the staircase thudded through her, pushing her clos
er to the emotional collapse she wanted to avoid.

  But by the time she reached the empty reception hall of the opera house, there was no echoing “Mila” ringing from behind her. No hand on her wrist to turn her around.

  As Mila burst into the warm night air, pulling out her phone to call for a car, nobody was there to stop her.

  17

  Grayson agonized over what his next step should be as he watched Mila storm out of the VIP box. In his heart, there wasn’t a doubt: he should go after her. And he stood, ready to run behind her and make everything right between them again.

  But the practical side of him kept his legs leaden and his gaze firm. The practical side whispered steady, logical facts: the challenge is over. You need to retreat into work. There’s no time for family. You’ll take care of them financially.

  Because that had to be the bottom line. And once they had clearer heads—not muddied by sex and this insane opera music—he’d go to her and explain.

  He was positive she’d understand. They’d just gotten carried away in this whirlwind of lust and…

  He gulped, the word ‘love’ hovering at the periphery of his mind. It couldn’t be love. It couldn’t be. Because it didn’t make sense. Love wasn’t something he could have—not if he wanted all his plans and dreams of success to come true. But dammit, Mila was special, and telling himself to ignore her was like commanding a dog to not sniff a freshly cut slab of steak.

  Grayson only lasted another half hour before he left the show and headed home. Every inch of him wanted to head straight to Mila’s house, but that didn’t seem like the right thing to do either. They both needed time to cool off. Maybe him more than her, now that the L-word was floating around in his mind.

  The next day, Grayson got ready for work, headed to his favorite coffee shop, and picked up a coffee and a tea to-go. And then he headed for Mila’s boutique, feeling readier than ever to explain to her just how much of a horrible choice he’d be as a family man, and why she needed to accept that the idea of a relationship between them was only doomed for failure.

  But when he breezed into her bright little boutique, an unfamiliar employee greeted him from the cash register. His face fell as he looked around at the otherwise empty store.

  “Hey there, I’m just opening up…” the girl said, offering an apologetic grin. “You came in as soon as I unlocked the door!”

  “Where’s Mila?”

  “She’s not feeling well today,” the employee said, brushing some hair out of her eyes. “Are you here for the challenge or…?”

  “So she’s at home?”

  “I think so.” The girl grimaced. “Do you need anything? Are you going to tell her I opened late? I swear it’s just five after ten…”

  “No. You’re fine.” Grayson deflated slightly. “Thanks for the info.”

  He headed back to the car, where his personal driver awaited. Mila might have taken a personal day, but he was going to have this conversation come hell or high water.

  When the sedan pulled up to the cute Victorian-style row house building where Mila had her apartment, Grayson was out the door and ringing her bell before the driver had even parked. Mila cracked open the front door a moment later, peering at him through red-rimmed eyes. She’d been crying, which somehow made this worse.

  “What do you want?” She didn’t sound happy that he was here.

  “To talk to you.”

  She walked away from the front door, leaving it hanging open for him. He stepped inside her cozy apartment, swallowing the nervousness that had suddenly flared up. She sniffed and wiped at her face, heading toward the living room where she crumpled onto the couch.

  “I brought this for you.” He set the tea down on the end table.

  “Don’t try to butter me up with tea.” She reached for it anyway, taking an appreciative sip. “God, this is good.”

  “I went to talk to you at the boutique, but your employee said you took a personal day.”

  “Yeah.” She frowned, avoiding his gaze. “What do you need?”

  He eased onto the edge of the sectional on the opposite end from her, just to put that unmistakable space between them. Even though almost all of him wanted to smooth away her dried tears with kisses and lean her back onto the sectional so they could have a repeat of what they’d done here last weekend. Almost all of him—except for the part that knew it would be wiser to stay back.

  “We needed to have a follow-up to last night,” he admitted, turning his coffee cup back and forth in his hands. “I don’t think we’re on the same page.”

  “Well, I certainly wasn’t. But don’t worry, you got me there.”

  “Listen. Here’s the deal. You and our baby…you’re not going to want for anything. I promise you.”

  “That’s not true. My baby will want for their father.”

  Grayson’s stomach clenched. “I’ll be around. It’s not like I’ll be completely absent. But the truth is that my company—my business that I built from the ground up—is extremely demanding. And that’s right now. Once it goes public, things will be even crazier.”

  Mila nodded, swiping at her cheek.

  “I want to be a part of your and the baby’s life in what little way I can.” His chest tightened as soon as the words left his mouth. Because it was only a half-truth. He wanted to be around way more than what his future schedule would allow. But realistically, what did he have to offer to a baby—or to Mila—other than money? He didn’t know how to be a partner or a father. He could be a provider, though. He knew he could do that. “I promise you. You won’t ever wonder if you can make ends meet. I’ll take care of everything financially. In fact, I plan to open an account today that you can use whenever you’d like. No questions asked.”

  Her throat bobbed and she picked at something invisible on the couch. “So you’re just…buying me off.”

  “No, I’m not ‘buying you off.’” His stomach clenched. This was going all wrong—that wasn’t what he’d meant at all. He wanted the money to make her feel safe, secure. All the things he hadn’t felt growing up poor, watching his mother work herself to the bone to keep a roof over their heads. He’d been his mom’s hero when he’d told her she’d never have to work another day in her life. Why wasn’t that enough for Mila? Didn’t she know he didn’t have anything more than that to give?

  “Well, listen, Grayson. I don’t need your money. I don’t need your blank check approach to parenting. I don’t need this half-assed absentee bullshit. And I especially don’t need someone who’s too cowardly to open themselves up to love.”

  Her words were like expertly aimed arrows. His mouth parted but no rebuttal come to his lips.

  “I think you should go now,” Mila said, standing and gesturing toward the door.

  Emotions churned wild and chaotic inside him. Without even thinking about it, he blurted, “I’m afraid I’ll suck. As a dad. I don’t…I don’t know what to do. But I can make sure our baby has the perfect life. Without me ruining everything because I don’t know what to do.”

  Mila’s face fell, looking as pained as if he’d just slapped her. “Don’t you remember, Grayson? You told me yourself that you grew up without a dad. And look at how you turned out. You’re one of the most successful tech guys in the freaking world. If you could pull that off with no dad at all then I seriously doubt that a mildly-invested father could do that much damage like you’re afraid of.”

  When he opened his mouth to speak, Mila went on.

  “But you know what? Forget it. I’m not going to convince you to do something you don’t want to do. So goodbye. Keep your money, since that’s all you fucking care about. I’ll figure it out, and make sure that this baby grows up knowing nothing but love from his or her mom.”

  Grayson rubbed at his face. She might think that she’d skate by without any of his help, but he’d make damn sure at least his baby had something to inherit from him. “The boutique has been doing better, hasn’t it? The challenge seems to have impr
oved business.”

  “Oh yes. Business has more than quadrupled. But I got a call early this morning from my landlord that he’s selling the building out from underneath me.” She offered a tight smile. “So now I’m back at square one—or maybe even square zero. But that’s just the cost of doing business, you know? I’ll figure it out.”

  “Do you want me to help—”

  “No. I want you to leave.” Mila pointed at the door, her mouth in a thin line. Grayson looked her over, wondering if there was any way that things might settle between them so they could reach a better, happier medium.

  But this was where it was always destined to land. As long as he continued his breakneck work pace, there would never be room, or time, for anything else in his life.

  He drank her in one last time—her dark hair, the trendy glasses, the plump lips he’d kissed thousands of times for such a short whirlwind romance. No part of him wanted to walk away and leave things hanging in the balance like this.

  But he couldn’t see any other way forward.

  His only choice could be to walk away.

  18

  Mila allowed herself to wallow until lunchtime. But once it became clear that a grilled cheese sandwich wasn’t going to make her feel better—which it always did—she knew what needed to happen next.

  Lainey.

  Mila called instead of texting and as soon as she heard her best friend’s voice, she started crying again.

  “Oh, my God, Mila, what’s wrong?”

  “Everything,” Mila said, sniffling. “Can I come over?”

  “Of course. I’m at the co-op, painting, but no one else is here today.”

  “I’ll be there soon.” Mila wiped at her eyes, trying to compose herself enough to brave the world. She grabbed her purse and car keys, struggling not to let the sadness of Grayson’s decision wash over and unravel her again. She felt like she was just barely keeping her head above water.