One Night With a Billionaire

by Jessica Clare

  “Th-thank you.” She stared down at the check, numb.

  “Don’t thank me,” Cade said. “Talk to me. Make me understand why you keep running away.” He clasped her hand in his. “I’m pretty sure I mentioned the part about me being rich, right? You could have come to me. I would have gladly given you the money.”

  She flinched and pulled away from him. “That’s just it. I don’t want a handout. I don’t want to be a burden.”

  “There’s that word again,” he said, and his voice was hard. “I don’t know why you seem to think that supporting and helping someone you love equates to a burden.”

  “Cade,” she protested. “They were coming after me for thousands of dollars. Hundreds of thousands if what they told me was right.”

  “Then it’s a good thing I have billions.” He shook his head. “It’s not about the money. Tell me what it is, Kylie. Make me understand.”

  Kylie stared down at the check, then looked over at him again. “I . . . told you I grew up with my grandmother, right?”

  “You did.”

  “Well.” Her lips were dry. She licked them repeatedly, feeling uncomfortable and anxious. “My nana isn’t the most . . . happy of people. Her husband died when she was fifty, and then her only child died ten years later. So when she inherited me and I was all of ten years old, she really didn’t know what to do with me. Not only that, but her husband didn’t have life insurance, and neither did my parents, so not only did she have me to take care of, but she had to work outside of the house for the first time in her life. She hated it. And she hated me because of it.” Kylie’s stomach churned uncomfortably at the memories. “She always reminded me that I was fat and ugly, and she had to work two jobs because of me. I was nothing like my mother, who was beautiful and smart and thin. I was a burden, and she told me that constantly. And as I grew up, well, I decided that I’d never be a burden to someone like I was to her.” She gave him a faint smile. “Want to know the ironic part? When I hit twenty or so, Nana Sloane slipped into full-on dementia. She has to stay in a locked-down nursing home with round-the-clock care because her mind can’t stay focused on the present. Now she’s my burden.” Her laugh was bitter. “And she’s a really expensive one. I can’t seem to make ends meet caring for both her and myself, so one of us has to give, and she can’t work, so it falls back to me.”

  “Oh, Kylie.” He gripped her hand in his. “That’s a horrible story. Didn’t anyone love you, growing up?”

  She shrugged, feeling uncomfortable. “My parents did. I never felt unwanted with them. And I always had friends in school. It was just hard after they died.” Because Nana Sloane hated Kylie.

  Such a burden. So useless. Look at how fat she is. She’s not even trying to take care of herself. I can’t believe I got stuck with her. I should have just called the state and had them take her away, but family always handles their own, no matter how awful it is. She’s my own albatross, a fat little liability that means I’ll never be happy again.

  Cade’s look became knowing. “That night we went out for waffles . . . You told me about the ex that dumped you on the street. Does this have to do with him, too?”

  “Boy, I’m really not good at hiding my issues, am I?”

  “Are you afraid I’d do the same to you?”

  “I don’t think you would,” Kylie said. “Then again, I didn’t think he would, either. I just . . . I can’t be someone else’s problem.” She rubbed her forehead. Talking about all the hurting, ugly things in her past was giving her a headache. But she had to. She had to make him understand that it wasn’t him, it was her. All her and her baggage.

  “I’d never—”

  “But you did blackmail me,” she pointed out with a rueful smile. “I still don’t have my panties back.”

  Cade’s expression grew sad. “I was ruthless with you because I needed to see you. Had to have you in my bed. I suppose that was the wrong thing to do, given your past.”

  “It’s just . . . hard for me to trust,” she admitted. “Hard for me to go to sleep at night and know everything’s handled, and I’m not just a responsibility to you. Not financially or emotionally. For once, I’d like to be in charge of my own life, you know?” She looked around Star’s shabby apartment and sighed. “It’s sad, because I’m taking advantage of Star, really. I pay her two hundred a month to sleep on her couch when I’m home and to have my mail sent here, but I’m still imposing on her.”

  “I’m sure Star doesn’t look at it that way,” Cade said. “She’s helping a friend. And I bet she loves the company. Because no matter what you might think, Kylie, you’re wonderful to be around. You’re caring and kind and utterly loving. And my life isn’t the same if you’re not in it.”

  She looked into his blue, blue eyes, and then down at the check clutched in her hand. “This . . . helps,” she admitted. “I was going to use this money to pay for Nana Sloane’s next year of care and couch surf with Star until my next gig.”

  “I have a new proposal,” Cade said, dragging her against him. He pulled the check from her hand and set it down on the floor. Then, he had her breasts pushed against his chest and his arms around her waist and his mouth was so close to hers that she thought he’d kiss her.

  “What’s that?” she asked, feeling breathless at his nearness.

  “I know this great townhouse in Manhattan with a very lonely bachelor who’s looking for a roommate. I hear he’s going to charge very reasonable rates if he can find the right woman willing to put up with him and all his money.” His mouth crooked. “See, he travels a lot, so he needs to know that his girl won’t be too lonely when he’s gone.”

  “I imagine she’d be working her own job,” Kylie said breathlessly, heart thudding. “So she could pay her portion of the rent.”

  “That sounds perfect,” Cade said. “He’s going to want rent on the first of every month, of course. But the perks are pretty good.”

  “What kind of perks?”

  “Well, he likes his coffee black. I hear it’s very important to have similar tastes in beverages. He’s got a pink roadster he doesn’t know what to do with, a really big bed, and a really great shower. No grand piano, though.”

  She giggled, thinking about his first hotel room with the absurd piano.

  “But if it’s important to his roommate, he’ll get one,” Cade continued. “And best of all, he has good contacts at a lot of local hospitals and nursing homes so he’s sure he can help her find the perfect one for her relative to stay in and be comfortable. It’s one of the benefits of being a billionaire who made his money on medical patents.”

  “He sounds ideal,” Kylie murmured. His mouth was so close to hers. She wanted him to kiss her. Hell, she wanted to throw him down on the couch and make love to him.

  “I wouldn’t say he’s completely ideal,” Cade told her. “He’s a workaholic and a bit pigheaded from time to time. And he snores.”

  She giggled. “He does, indeed.”

  “But he loves you very, very much, and he’s willing to do whatever it takes to ensure that you feel comfortable in the relationship, Kylie. And if that means charging you rent and insisting you work instead of using his money, then that’s what he’ll do.” Cade’s eyes were so blue as he gazed at her. “Say you’ll come home with me.”

  Kylie was terrified. Terrified that this would be a mistake, but even more terrified that Cade would walk out the door and she’d never see him again. “Tell me you love me again?”

  “I love you,” he told her, leaning in and brushing his lips over hers. “And rent’s five hundred a month.”

  She giggled again. “That’s a lot of money just to couch surf.”

  “Ah, but I have a really awesome couch,” he told her, kissing her mouth again. “And an awesome bed.” His tongue flicked into her mouth, slicking against her own, only to pull back a moment later as he continued. “And an awesome kitchen. Really, I’m just awesome all around.” He kissed her again, longer, slower, sweeter. �
�But . . . only if I’m with you.”

  Damn it, there were the tears again. Kylie blinked rapidly. “I love you. So much.”

  “Then come home with me. Take a chance on me.”

  She nodded, taking a deep breath. “Yes. Okay. I’ll do it.”

  He grinned, his smile so dazzling she felt as if the entire room lit up. “You sure you don’t need more convincing? I came armed with an entire box of condoms.”

  She laughed, feeling light and carefree, and her hands went to the buttons of his shirt. She wanted this man desperately, and loved that he wanted her just as much. “I hear that my roommate isn’t going to be back for at least two more hours.”

  “Then let’s get your money’s worth out of this couch,” he told her, his grin fading and his mouth seeking hers. All of the playfulness was suddenly gone, and the hunger resurfaced. Cade’s mouth devoured hers, and Kylie whimpered as his tongue swept into her mouth again. His hand went to her breast, cupping it and rubbing her nipple through the fabric of her top.

  She moaned, tearing at his shirt now. “I want to feel your skin against me, Cade. I need you so desperately.”

  “Then quit leaving me,” he murmured against her skin. “I’m all yours.”

  “I won’t leave again,” she told him.

  He raised an eyebrow.

  “I’ll try not to leave again,” she amended, smiling. “And the next time I freak out, I promise I’ll share why.”

  “Fair enough,” he said, his fingers still gliding over her nipple, back and forth, coaxing it to aching hardness. “Now, I need to put my mouth on all this gorgeous skin,” he told her. “Undress for me.”

  She did, pulling off her clothing with haste, anxious to feel his weight on her, to have him between her legs, his warm flesh touching hers. How long had it been since they’d last had sex? Too long, she decided. She cringed when she revealed her serviceable, ugly beige bra and her cotton briefs. “I wasn’t expecting company,” she told him. At least her legs were shaved.

  “You could be wearing rags and you’d still be utterly gorgeous to me,” he told her, and the sincerity on his face made her believe it. It was hard not to feel pretty when a man like Cade was gazing down at you as if you were a work of art.

  But then she was naked, and he was mostly naked, and their clothes were flung somewhere on the shabby carpet in Star’s living room, and Cade’s glorious, naked chest was there for her to touch and lick and caress at her leisure. And she did, murmuring her pleasure at touching him, and moaning when he reciprocated. As always, he paid attention to her breasts—he seemed to love them, despite the fact that they weren’t firm or perky; they were too big for that sort of thing. All of Kylie was. But he made her feel pretty nevertheless, and when he looked up at her with heated eyes and parted lips as he took her nipple in his mouth, she’d never felt sexier.

  “Condom,” she told him breathlessly. “Now.”

  He nodded and leaned over the side of the couch, searching through the discarded clothing. A moment later, he produced one packet and held it aloft.

  “Can I?” she asked. Just the thought of rolling it down his length was making her ache between her legs.

  The hot gleam in his eyes was answer enough. He gave her the package, and she opened it, carefully removing the condom. It was slick with lubricant, and her own fingers were shaking with need so much that she dropped it on the floor.

  Right into one of the melting bowls of ice cream.

  Kylie blinked at it, then giggled. “Houston, we have a problem.”

  “Do we?” he asked, burying his face against her breasts again. “Or are you still on the pill?”

  No condom? Her breath rushed out of her at the thought. Cade with a condom was good. Cade without a condom felt . . . intense. So intense. “I’m on the pill, yeah.”

  “Then, can we . . .” He let his words trail off, his gaze asking the question even as he continued to kiss and nuzzle her breasts.

  She nodded, her hands going back to him. She laid back down on the couch, ignoring the fact that the pillows were sliding around a bit with all the moving she and Cade were doing. It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but Cade over her, and his knees parting her own, his hips settling between hers, and then his cock pressing against her pussy and stroking through her folds, teasing her clit. She moaned.

  “My sweet Kylie,” Cade told her. “So damn wet for me. God, I love you.”

  “I love you, too,” she told him in a shaky voice.

  And then he pushed into her, and she gasped at how big he felt, and how tight she was. She spread her legs wider, and his hips fit between hers perfectly, and they began to move together. Kylie’s hips lifted with Cade’s thrusts, and before long, the friction was building between her legs, making her cling to him with breathless need, crying out his name as he hammered into her. She came with a wracking cry, and moments later, he came, too. He pushed into her a few times more, their joined bodies wet with mutual pleasure, and then he slid on top of her, all sweaty skin and muscle.

  And perfection. Cade was pure, utter perfection. From the dark blond lashes framing his gorgeous eyes to the loose curls now sticking up from his head, to the way he kissed her neck, her arm, her skin, everywhere he could, even though they’d both come.

  Perfection.

  Her perfection.

  “I love you,” she told him again. Just because she felt like it. And maybe because she could. Because they were together now, and he wasn’t going to hold anything over her, and she’d never be a burden. Unwanted, unneeded burden. Because she realized something as he moved onto his side and curled on the narrow couch with her. Burdens had nothing to do with love. As long as there was love, there would be no resentment, just a desire to help.

  Maybe that was what had been missing all along.

  Maybe that was why, in Cade’s arms, she was no longer afraid.

  TWENTY-ONE

  Two weeks later

  Kylie’s hand was clammy in Cade’s as they headed into the nightclub. “Are you sure your friends are going to want to meet me?” She asked for what felt like the dozenth time that evening. She’d fussed and worried over dinner, fixing her makeup over and over again even though in his eyes, she was utter perfection. He knew his Kylie had confidence issues, and she was working on them.

  He’d just have to keep loving her and making her feel as utterly beautiful as he knew she was. Not that it was a chore, he thought with a grin, giving her hand a squeeze. He’d gladly do so every day for the rest of his life.

  Moving Kylie and her Nana Sloane to New York City with him had been one of the happiest weeks he’d ever had. While he wasn’t a big fan of Nana Sloane—not after some of the stories Kylie had told him about her childhood—he couldn’t help but feel sorry for the frail lady with the confused mind. They’d moved her into one of the best nursing homes Cade could find, and he’d used his name to finagle a discount for Kylie, since she insisted on paying. That was fine with him. She could pay until she was used to him and his money. It was actually kind of refreshing being with someone who didn’t give him an expectant look every time the check arrived at a restaurant.

  If anything, his Kylie laughed and teased him about his wealth. She’d burst into a fit of giggles when he’d shown her his Manhattan townhouse and the Monet—a real one—above the fireplace. “What, were there no Picassos available when you were decorating?” she teased. “Museum fresh out of Van Goghs?”

  He’d tickled her straight into bed for that one.

  She’d teased him about the thousand thread-count sheets, too. Were three hundred threads not enough for a billionaire? And she’d poked fun at his marble-tiled bathroom and all the other expensive trappings in his townhouse. Kylie was cheap, she declared, and if she was going to live with him, he was going to eat off-brand groceries and shop at the local Super Saver because no one really needed to spend eighty dollars on a hand towel. He was fine with that. He didn’t care if she turned the entire place out with plastic f
urniture and red Solo drinking cups. Just as long as she was in his arms every night, it was fine. Cade preferred to donate to charities anyhow. Billions of dollars were far too much for one man to have, and he’d told Kylie that once. Her eyes had gleamed so happily that he felt like giving all of his money away.

  He didn’t, though; he was saving it to spoil his woman whether she wanted it or not.

  Like tonight, they’d gone out to one of New York’s swankiest restaurants so Cade could show off to Kylie a bit. They’d ordered a moderately priced wine so Kylie wouldn’t feel obligated to drink the entire bottle and he didn’t let her see the menu so she wouldn’t exclaim over the prices. Still, he had a suspicion she was eating on the cheap when she ordered chicken instead of the lobster he had. That was fine. He made her eat a dessert with him anyhow, just so he could lick some of the chocolate off of her decadent, full mouth.

  Now it was time for his weekly Brotherhood meeting, and he was bringing Kylie to meet his friends. She didn’t know it was a secret society meeting. Actually, most of the secret had gone out of the society once Gretchen had started showing up on a regular basis, and then the other men had one by one started bringing their wives and fiancées around. Last week, Audrey had made a genius suggestion that the men were anxious to implement, and Cade was curious to see the results.

  As he led Kylie into the club and down one of the back halls, she ran a finger under her lip, checking her lipstick once more.

  “You look fine, love,” he told her. “Better than fine. Utterly beautiful.” She was, too. Dressed in a tight black sheath that wrapped below her breasts, the dress showed off the exaggerated hourglass of Kylie’s lush figure and emphasized her glorious breasts. Her golden hair had been freshly retipped with flame red, and was pulled back from her face into glam waves.

  But she gave him an uncertain look. “Won’t the others be expecting you to show up with Daphne? After all the history you guys had?”