The Problem With Billionaires (Billionaire Club Book 5)

by Brynn Paulin

  Quickly, I grabbed the towel and wrapped it back around me. Closing my eyes for a moment, I drew a deep breath to calm my shaking. Had I ever felt this sort of excitement? It took everything to tamp down the urge to fall back on the bed and beckon him to me.

  Judging from his tense stance, he experienced close to the same.

  “Booker, I’m covered,” I whispered, my voice a dry rasp.

  Shit! Was I allowed to call him by his given name? Should I call him Prince Booker? Mr. Grammer? Dr. Grammer? Your Highness? I was so out of my depth here.

  His eyes were dark with lust as his gaze turned back to me. “I’m sorry. I honestly thought you were still in the bath.”

  I shrugged, far less freaked out than I probably should be. In truth, I was still reeling from his admiration and my need. The former bolstered my confidence. “It’s okay. Thank you for the drink, um… What should I call you?” I asked.

  “What?”

  “Okay. Thanks for the hot chocolate, What.” I couldn’t help smirking.

  Booker laughed. “Oh, Precious, you’re going to make life fun, aren’t you? You can call me anything you want. Booker or Book or What. Your choice.”

  “I wasn’t sure of protocol. Like if I was supposed to call you Your Highness.”

  His hand cupped my face, his thumb stroking along my cheek. “There’s no formality between us. I want you to be comfortable and familiar with me.” He swallowed and drew a couple breaths between slightly parted lips as his dark gaze devoured me. “You feel it don’t you? The electricity ricocheting between us. I’ve never experienced…” He shook his head. “I’ve never felt this before.”

  “I feel it. I wasn’t sure if it was just me. Or what to do.”

  His forehead leaned to mine, his warm, tantalizing breath tinged with mint and chocolate. “Not just you. As for what to do, we let it grow and expand and see where it leads us.” He sighed and straightened, breaking the close connection. “The first place it’s leading us is across the corridor to Brix and Cricket’s for dinner.”

  “Is that okay? I don’t want to intrude.”

  “You’re not. And Cricket is beyond thrilled that I’m bringing you. Truth be told, I’m fairly certain Brix will be happy I have a woman, so he doesn’t have to fear me going after his wife.”

  That hit me like the cold, pummeling rain from outside. “You like her?” I whispered.

  “Absolutely not. She’s a nice person, but I would never infringe on another man, especially not my friend. Besides, I don’t feel anything for her, not even the slightest trace of this thing you and I have.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’ll leave you to get dressed. Sorry you don’t have something else to wear for dinner. We’ll take care of that tomorrow.”

  “You don’t have to—”

  His finger pressed over my lips, and he nodded. “I want to.”

  Chapter Four

  ~ Booker ~

  Cricket took to Marigold as if she were a long-lost sister. Both Brixtons were horrified by what had happened to her, as was I.

  While we sat around the dining room table, I heard, for the first time, about what had happened to land Marigold on the street. Horror was the least of my emotions. Rage rose up, making me want to throttle a few people, especially her stepmother.

  Unable to help myself, I reached over and grasped Marigold’s thigh, needing to anchor myself by touching her. She paused for a moment, swallowing hard before she went on. Her small hand covered my much larger one.

  “I can’t believe that happened to you!” Cricket exclaimed. “That’s horrible. After dinner, we need to go upstairs to my closet. I have more clothes than I could ever need, thanks to this one.” She tilted her head toward Brix.

  “I like giving you things.”

  She leaned over and kissed his cheek. “I know, babe. You’re the best.”

  He growled. “Don’t you forget it.”

  Cricket patted his cheek. “You can show me later.” Without missing a beat, she turned back to Marigold. “We’ll get you all set, so you have some clothes to wear to school this week. I’m sure Booker will get you outfitted, too.”

  I was slightly envious of her easy affection with Brix. I hoped Marigold and I would have that soon. And it startled me, though far less than it had earlier when I’d realized she was my one.

  Marigold smiled. “He said he would.”

  “These guys… They like to spoil.”

  “And what exactly do you know about Booker’s habits?” Brix demanded. Though it was good-natured, I heard an underlying bite. No one messed with his girl, and heaven forbid she look at another man. He’d probably lock her in a tower.

  “Nothing,” she laughed. “I’m guessing, because he acts so much like you sometimes. All growly. I always knew when he met his girl, he’d be Brix 2.0.”

  I cleared my throat. “Booker 1.0, the one and only,” I corrected.

  My princess giggled beside me. My hand slid a little farther up her thigh, feeling the warmth emanating from her core. I wanted to slip my fingers between those plump lips and feel her heat, skin-to-skin. She stopped laughing, her breathing shuddering.

  Hand shaking ever so slightly, I reached for my wineglass.

  “It’s really sweet of you to offer some of your clothes,” she told Cricket. “As long as you really don’t mind, I’d love to take you up on that.”

  “Of course.” Cricket jumped up. “Are you done? We can go now.”

  “Yes. Can I help clean up first?”

  Cricket waved a hand. “Elijah can do it. Right, babe?”

  As far as I knew, she was the only one who didn’t call him Brix all the time.

  “Whatever you want, Princess,” he replied. She grabbed my girl’s hand and pulled her toward the stairs. Brix and I watched our women until they disappeared from sight.

  “What are you going to do about that?” he asked darkly.

  As if that was a question. “Keep her.”

  “About her family.”

  “The sister will come live with us. Clearly, she’s a victim, too. The stepmother? Destroy her.”

  * * * *

  ~ Marigold ~

  I froze on the steps as Booker’s words came toward me. He wanted to keep me and destroy Gloria. He wasn’t just saying things to my face to get in my pants.

  Cricket tugged on my hand. “C’mon. Let’s get you set up so you can get back to your hunky man.”

  My glare turned on her.

  She laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m so totally into Brix, it’s disgusting. I don’t need, want or have any interest in another man. But I’m not blind. Prince Booker is stunning.”

  As she guided me into her closet, I thought of his piercing brown eyes, perfect bone structure and slightly olive skin as well as his strong body. He could be a model or an actor. Women would swoon over him. Hell, they probably did already. He graced the tabloid covers on a regular basis. It was probably the weather that had kept the paparazzi from snapping pics of him tonight. Wouldn’t that have been headline worthy? His carrying me into his building? Had he even considered what it would look like? I had nothing to lose, but he did.

  “He is beautiful,” I agreed, troubled by my thoughts. If he wanted to be with me, these were things we’d have to consider. He had an image and a reputation.

  “So are you. You’re a good match. The two of you will look breathtaking together, with your black hair, dark eyes and sweet, innocent looks.” She chuckled as heat burned into my cheeks. “And that blush.”

  “I’m not exactly the willowy, nymph-type that’s usually on his arm.”

  She blew out a breath. “You obviously don’t read the rags. There’s never a woman on his arm. And you might have curves, but my Brix sure likes mine,” she said, running her hands over her hips. “Booker probably feels the same. I told you they’re a lot alike. He’ll adore having his curvy little pixie beside him at red-carpet events.”

  “Red carpet?” I gasped. The thought was t
errifying.

  She shrugged. “Hazard of being with a billionaire. Lots of swanky events. Brix and Booker usually end up at the same ones. I’ll guide you through.” She bounced, clapping. “Your Yoda, I’ll be,” she quipped in a terrible imitation.

  “As long as I don’t have to learn how to swing a lightsaber. I’d probably off myself.”

  She shook her head. “Nah, just jewels, evening gowns and four-inch heels.”

  “I think maybe I’d prefer the lightsaber.”

  “Trust me, it would come in handy against all the trolls trying to step in on the guys.” She started pulling out clothes from shelves and hangers.

  “How do you deal with that?” I asked, taking an armful from her then placing it on the table in the center of the room.

  “Well, for one, my husband isn’t at all interested in them and finds them annoying. And for another, he doesn’t care how snarky I am with them. Trust me, I can win a medal in bitchiness when it comes to some hag moving in on my man.”

  I stared at her in awe. “I do want you to be my Yoda.”

  She winked. “I’ll be your Yoda and you can help me with kid stuff.”

  My gaze dropped to her stomach and the hand she rested on her belly. She nodded. “A couple months along now, but barely showing. You can’t even tell when I have clothes on. My husband is dying for me to pop out.” She rolled her eyes. “He wants everyone to know.” She heaved a sigh. “I love him.”

  I bit my lip, filled with overwhelming warmth and feeling like I’d been pulled into her bubble of friendship. I loved seeing her so over-the-top infatuated with her guy. I hoped I would be that way, too. Were these feelings for Booker leading me to what Cricket and Brix had?

  “You can pick any of those clothes.” She indicated the piles we’d made. “Even though I’m not showing, I don’t fit in any of them. Actually,” she added, “You should just take them all. Mr. Overbearing is having fifty outfits delivered for me tomorrow. This will make room. Just leave them and I’ll have the guys come get them to bring to your place.” She gave a small cough. “I’m not allowed to lift anything.”

  I smirked. Cricket was a trip, and right about now, I wanted her to be my best friend.

  “Oh, wait,” she said. “You’ll need these, too.” She added lingerie to the pile—and that was all it could be called. These weren’t normal panties and bras. They were…fancy. “Never worn, I promise. Brix is a fan of Agent Provocateur. I could practically pretend they were disposable with much of it as show up here.”

  “Won’t he care that you’re giving it away.”

  She grabbed a bag and stuffed the intimate garments inside then handed it to me. “Won’t even notice. Hey, before we rejoin the guys… I know you’re really worried about your sister. If anyone can find her, it’s people like those two downstairs. They have connections like you wouldn’t believe.”

  “I’d imagine being a prince, Booker has access to some pretty high tech tracking and tracing options.” I hadn’t even thought of that.

  “They both do. Cash opens doors. The more you have the more access you can get. But Marigold, besides reassuring you, I wanted to say. Sometimes you have to save yourself before you can save someone else. Do you know what I mean? Let Booker help you. Let Brix and I help you, too. And when you’re on your feet again, you’ll be able to help Linzey.”

  “You’re the same age as me, right?” I asked, in awe of her wisdom.

  “Yeah. But, see, even when I was busy being my own hero, I had Brix save me.”

  Chapter Five

  ~ Marigold ~

  To my shock, a middle-aged woman met Booker and I in the foyer of his penthouse when we returned. His protection officers, Adler and Carson, were on our heels, carrying the clothes Cricket had given me. Booker had called them to help.

  Adler had raised an eyebrow at Booker when they’d arrived. “I thought we were fired,” he’d asked, humor lacing his tone. His audacity had shocked me, and I’d expected Booker to explode. Instead, he’d thrown back his head and laughed.

  “You are,” he’d finally said. “From royal protection. I still need bodyguards, if you’re willing—bodyguards who report to me and not the palace, who follow my directives.”

  Adler and Carson had exchanged a glance. They were both fair and muscular, making me think they might be of Viking descent. Adler had spoken, his words slightly accented. I wondered if he was from Booker’s homeland. “If it puts you in danger, Your Highness—”

  “I won’t command you to let me run into danger,” Booker had assured.

  The pair had exchanged glances again, and Carson had nodded.

  “Then we will take the assignment,” Adler had said. Apparently, he was the talker of the pair.

  They were probably far from impressed that their first assignment was to haul my clothing. Neither showed an emotion either way.

  Now, I studied the woman before us.

  “Marigold, this is Ygrid, the head housekeeper. She helps keep me all in order—and now, you, too.”

  “Oh, sir,” the woman said, shaking her head. She had the same accent as Adler. “You don’t need me to keep you in order. Maybe pick up a thing or two…”

  He winked at her. At the same time, his arm went around my waist, pulling me closer to him. “This is my girl,” he told the housekeeper. He kissed my temple. “I told Ygrid about you earlier.”

  “It’s nice to meet you, miss,” the woman said with a nod. “Anything you need, please let me know.” She turned her gaze to Booker again. “I placed Ms. Grey in the blue suite. While you were at dinner, I supplied it with what she might need.” She looked at me again. “I hope you don’t mind that I emptied your bag. Your things are drying in your sitting room, except for your clothing that is being laundered. I’m afraid your laptop was quite sodden.”

  “Lars is looking at it?” Booker asked.

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Have him transfer everything he can salvage onto a new machine. Same type as the one he set up for me last month.”

  “That’s not necessary,” I tried, knowing he was talking about some top-of-the-line computer I could never repay him for.

  “It is. You need it for school.” He kissed my forehead, and I got the feeling he knew it made my brain all fuzzy. He was trying to distract me.

  I stepped back, fire in my eyes. I wanted to rip into him, but I didn’t want to end up on the street again.

  “Gentlemen,” Ygrid said and indicated that the bodyguards follow her. In a moment, Booker and I were alone.

  He raised an eyebrow at me, in challenge. “Go ahead.”

  I scowled at him and bit the inside of my lip to stay silent.

  “Precious, I know you have something to say.”

  My eyes narrowed, and I looked away. “I don’t want to make you angry.”

  “And end up back on the street?”

  I nodded, hating my precarious situation. He grasped my chin and made me look at him. “That will never happen. Ever. You could scream at me for an hour and I’d walk away to regroup and calm down, but I wouldn’t throw you onto the street again.”

  “But if I screamed at you for an hour and a minute…” I prodded, my mood lightening at his reassurance.

  His lips curved into a grin. “Well, then I might have to take serious action. Something like…” He grabbed my arms and yanked me against his chest. A moment later, his hand was in the hair at the base of my neck, angling my mouth to receive his. His lips moved over mine, his tongue trying for access. I gasped when he nipped at my bottom lip, and he took immediate possession of my mouth. His tongue slid against mine, making me groan.

  The hand at the small of my back, pulled me tight to him. A hardness pressed into my stomach. It took me a moment, then I realized it was his cock. He was rock-hard. For me. Wow.

  I wiggled, moving against him, not trying to escape his hold. I never wanted to. Never. My hands grappled for hold on his shoulders. I wanted to be even closer. Then we were moving and
my back hit the wall.

  “Precious,” Booker murmured against my mouth.

  “Booker,” I gasped. He moved, his cock grinding against my center, and I realized I’d climbed him like a proverbial spider monkey. Our centers were aligned, and…God, it felt so good. Especially, with the slow gyration of his pelvis against mine. I moved with him, letting all the sensations take me. Tension wound tight in my womb, begging for release, pulsing, ready to explode.

  “We can’t do this here,” he muttered, and I whimpered, not caring about decorum or being seen. I didn’t want him to stop. He stepped back and peeled me off him. He held my shoulders while he breathed hard. “I don’t want my men to witness me getting you off. That is all for me. I’m not sharing that with them.”

  His hands dropped, and I realized he’d been making sure I was steady. Then he took my fingers in his and led me down the passage. He stopped at the doorway before the stairs up to his area. It was already open and he ushered me in. Like Booker’s suite, this too had a sitting room, bath and bedroom, but all on a much smaller scale.

  “It’s beautiful,” I said as I looked around. The bodyguards had set the clothes on the bed. Ygrid was busily hanging them in the closet and ignoring us. I wondered if that’s what staff in royal or wealthy households did, acted as if they were just a fixture like the furniture.

  “The room is yours for as long as you want it,” he said. He led me to a screen on the wall of the entry alcove. “You can message Ygrid, or any of the other staff, directly from here. Let them know if you need anything, if you want something to eat, if you need something in particular cleaned or washed. The message will go directly to that staff member. In particular, you’ll want to contact Ygrid, as she oversees the household and meals, and Adler. He will be your guard.”

  “My what?”

  “Now that you’re mine, you’ll have a bodyguard. It’s for your own protection.”

  “I don’t need—”

  “And for my peace of mind.” He kissed my forehead. “Please.”

  “Can we talk about it?”

  He regarded me with puppy dog eyes. Oh my gosh, I was in such a deep mess here. I needed to grow a backbone with him. Right this second wasn’t when it would happen though.