Found (Bad Boys with Billions Book 2)

by Laura Marie Altom

  If he knew my divorce would be no big deal, then I did, too. It was that simple. Life alongside Liam made everything shiny and new. I no longer had problems, but opportunities. As if my innermost wishes grew on a magical tree, all I had to do was reach up and pluck them for them to be true.

  In the light of day, Liam’s ring was out of control. The square-cut diamond was almost the size of a Chiclet, and the setting was an ornate platinum swirl. It was heavy, but I liked the weight. It would serve as a constant reminder of Liam’s love.

  I sat up in the bed to admire him. As usual, his messy dirty-blond hair fell over his left eye. It hadn’t been that long ago when I’d only dreamt of being close enough to him to brush it away. Now I had permission to do it whenever I wanted.

  I could also kiss him when I wanted, so I did just that, pressing my lips to his pecs and shoulders and throat until he was stirring and groaning, and then I was cupping his shoulders, pinning him down, kissing him in a rush of pent-up fear and elation and nerves until all of that went away, only to feed my hunger for more of him. It was no longer enough to be alongside him. I straddled him, and he slipped his hands into my hair, tugging at the leftover pins until it tumbled around us, tenting our kiss in moist heat.

  Between my legs, he grew hard and bucked against my core.

  I couldn’t get out of my pajama bottoms fast enough, and together, we dragged and pulled until baring the parts of our bodies that were in greatest need.

  When he reached for my top, I brushed him away. “Leave it on.”

  “Ell . . .” He fell back against the pillows. “Why? It’s not like I don’t know what’s there.”

  “Congratulations. But now that you know, I’d prefer not to see my scars.”

  “Babe . . .”

  “Never mind. I shouldn’t have even started anything when I’m already late for work.”

  “That’s bullshit.” I’d scrambled to the edge of the bed, but he pulled me back. The bandage on his palm felt rough against my forearm. I’d forgotten that he’d cut himself on my ring. “You’re not getting me all jacked up, then leaving. Finish what you started.”

  “No. I don’t even want you anymore.”

  “Liar.” He knew me too well. He braced his bandaged palm against my cheek, sliding his fingers into my hair. “You know you want me.”

  “No.”

  He rose to kiss me. “Yes.”

  I wanted to fight him, but why? We both knew he was right. I drew his palm to my lips, kissing his bandage. I hated that he’d hurt himself from grasping what was supposed to have been the ultimate symbol of our love. It still was, but because of my emotional baggage, our love, our ring, felt tainted. Guilt swirled in putrid waves all the way up to my neck until I was almost once again drowning, but I forced a deep breath and broke free. If Liam could forgive me, I could also forgive myself. This circumstance wasn’t easy, but it was what it was. We’d work through this just like everything else. “Did you tell me last night that JFK slept in this bed?”

  “And Mick Jagger.”

  “Holy shit . . .”

  “Exactly.”

  “What’re you planning to do that could compete with those two legends?”

  “Wait—now you do want me?”

  “Maybe a little. But I’m still mad.”

  “You’re also half-naked.” He undid my top button.

  “Stop.” I gave him a light swat. “I’m serious. You might be okay with what he did, but I’m not.”

  “Okay, whoa.” He bolted upright. “Let’s get one thing straight. I will never be okay with what that monster did, but that doesn’t affect how I feel about you. Don’t you get it? You’re beautiful to me—all of you. Even your scars. Hell—especially your scars, because the fact that you allowed me close enough to see them is important. How many other guys have you let that close?”

  “None.”

  “Exactly.” He tucked his hand beneath my chin, urging me to meet his emerald gaze. “That’s my point. What happened to you, as life-changing as it was, that’s in the past. If your scars make you uncomfortable, then fine—I’ll make love to you all day with you wearing your shirt. But please know that’s your hang-up and not mine. I think you’re the most gorgeous, exotic, wondrous woman in the world. To me, you’re perfect.” How did he always know the right thing to say?

  My throat tight, I twined my arms around him, burying my face in the curve of his neck. I loved him so much it hurt. What would I ever do without him? Thank God, the weight of his ring assured me I’d never need to know.

  He nudged me against the pillows and I fell in slow motion with my arms around his neck, pulling him along for the ride. When his lips touched mine, every inch of me sang. When we’d first met, I used to equate the pure, simple joy he spun in me with a soaring Frisbee, but now? I imagined a vast choir hitting the perfect harmonious chord, voices and arms uplifted toward the sky.

  His soul and skin were bared to me, and I wanted to give him the same. He was right. My scars were my past, and he was my bright and shining future.

  I whispered with words ragged with emotion, “C-could you please take off my top?”

  “You sure?” I nodded.

  He was once again easing up, and though without his reassuring weight I felt bereft, I watched as he unfastened first one button, then another until the part in the cool, soft silk fell open and he was skimming his palm along my abdomen, bobbing his head low to kiss my navel, and then leaning back to take me in. “You’re beautiful.”

  “So are you . . .” That chunk of hair had fallen over his left eye and I swept it back, only as usual, it once again fell, which only made me smile. His hair, like the man himself, was untamable, but that was okay. I loved that I was never quite sure what he’d do. But from now on, his every move would include me.

  He leaned close, angling his lips atop mine. I closed my eyes, gliding my fingertips along his sides, and he was once again on top of me with his urgency nudging between my legs.

  I was wet, hungry to feel him inside.

  He slipped his hands between my legs, but I didn’t want part of him. I greedily wanted him all.

  Shaking my head, I put my hands on his hips, guiding him where I wanted.

  “Are you sure you’re ready?” he asked with a tender look of concern.

  I nodded. I spread my legs, bucking up to meet him.

  With his gaze carrying mine, he eased in, filling me, completing me, kissing me.

  Eyes closed, I abandoned myself to pure sensation, relishing his rain of kisses across my breasts. His love cleansed me. His every thrust purified me, healed me and made me whole.

  He laved one hard nipple, then the other, and when he sucked, I couldn’t catch my breath from the electric, yet all in the same beat languid, draw.

  He pumped harder and I rose into him, pressing my fingertips into his ass, urging him faster, harder, deeper. When he reached low to tweak my cleft, I lost it, crying out in pleasure, not caring if I brought the whole hotel running. My orgasm made me feel as if for just those precious few moments I were flying, no longer restrained by mortal ties.

  He stiffened and groaned, flowing inside me. I didn’t care that he hadn’t worn a condom. What was the worst that could happen? I got pregnant with his son or daughter? That wouldn’t be a curse, but a blessing. Once we were married, I couldn’t think of anything I’d rather be than the perfect wife to him and mother to our children.

  “I’ve never seen that smile.” He kissed me, smoothing my tangle of long hair back from my forehead.

  “That’s because I’ve never been this happy. You’re like a drug I can’t get enough of.”

  “Uh-huh . . .” He rolled onto his back, casting me a sexy sideways grin. “Am I better than the candy Dr. Carol administered?”

  “Way better,” I assured him. “I could lounge in this bed with you forever, only if that clock’s right, in thirty minutes I’ll be late to work.”

  “Quit.”

  “Liam . . .
”

  “What? How is you working in Sausalito going to be practical when you’ll be splitting your time between the Palo Alto house and the beach and, hell—the world?”

  “Why can’t I borrow your helicopter?” I asked with a sweet smile while batting my eyelashes.

  “For starters, it’d cost way more in fuel to get you there than you even earn.”

  “Since when do you care about sticking to a budget?”

  “I don’t, but beyond that, I don’t see why you even want to work. I understand why you want to keep busy, but think of all the charity work you could be doing. Like, would you rather spend a couple thousand per day on helicopter fuel or helping starving kids?”

  “When you put it that way . . .” I nibbled my lower lip.

  “Babe . . .” He leaned in for a kiss. “Bottom line, do whatever makes you happy. If that means my pilot’s stuck hauling you out to that shop, then fine. I’m just saying that now you have options. If you want to work, I get it. But know you don’t have to. I just want you happy—and for me to leave the office and find you naked in my bed and kitchen and living room—”

  “Beast!” I pitched a pillow at him, but he ducked, then used my moment without a fresh weapon to drag me, squirming, back against him.

  In seconds, he hardened against me, and as much as I’d intended to fight him, when he grabbed my upper thigh, effectively landing his cock once again between my legs, that was exactly where I wanted it to be. I pushed myself the rest of the way on top of him, then, with my knees spread, straddled him, letting gravity do the rest.

  He sunk deep and I closed my eyes, rhythmically rising and falling, wanting to take it slow. With his big hands, he framed my hips, stroking my upper mound with his thumbs. Pleasure rose inside me, lush and velvety hot. Eyes still closed, groaning, I arched my head back and he splayed one hand on my abdomen and the other between my breasts.

  If I’d had one wish, it would have been for this moment to last forever, but how could it when Liam’s roving hands were spreading my lower lips, stroking me into delirium? “Stop,” I begged, practically panting.

  “Why?”

  “It’s too much. You’re not just inside me, but everywhere. I-I can’t think . . .” “Good.”

  I groaned in rising frustration.

  Before, almost instantaneously after he’d touched me, I’d come. But this was different. Maybe because it was our second time that morning, my body had built up a tolerance, but my heart hadn’t. Pleasure rose and twirled, registering deep-sexy violet behind my closed eyes.

  Nothing mattered but reaching the top, but having him stroke me, love me, more.

  And then I shattered, crying out from the shock.

  He put his hand over my mouth, but I drew in his thumb and bit down.

  When he came, it took a second forever for me to stop convulsing around his cock.

  I was momentarily paralyzed, unable to register any thought or motion. All I could do was breathe.

  Feel. Crave the time when he once again grew inside me.

  “I have a problem,” Liam said after catching his breath.

  “What’s wrong?” I couldn’t help but panic.

  “Relax . . .” He eased his thumb over the furrow between my brows. “It’s nothing major.

  Just that I have a half-dozen meetings this afternoon, but I’d rather stay in bed with you. We could order room service. Watch movies. I could do you on the billiards table.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Yeah, this suite has a billiards room. Just think of the fun we could have in there.” He winked. “I could set you buck-ass naked on the table’s edge, spread your legs, then—”

  “That’s enough.” Because if he said much more, I’d wholeheartedly agree with his plan. The trouble was, my boss, Yvonne, was expecting me and tonight, I needed to break it to my longtime friend Nathan that I was officially moving out. I reluctantly climbed off of Liam, then held out my hand. “Take a shower with me?”

  “No pool table fun?”

  “Rain check? Yvonne got in a Hello Kitty–ornament shipment yesterday and they take forever to unwrap.”

  “Likely story.” His grin was good-natured, which only made me want to stay more. “At least share breakfast? This place comes with its own butler, and the dining room table seats sixty.”

  Since his gaze lit as if he were a child wanting to show off a new toy, I agreed.

  Out of the shower, dressed in matching fluffy white robes, Liam and I shared one end of the table that had seated U.S. presidents and royals. He’d insisted I sit at the head, while he took the chair to my right.

  We ordered an outrageous amount of food. Scrambled eggs with provolone. Pancakes, crepes and French toast. Bacon, sausage and thick-sliced ham. I was hungry, and ate a little of it all. The meal reminded me of my honeymoon with Blaine. I’d ordered room service and he’d made me send it back, because he didn’t want me getting fat. Just proving he was an ass, and Liam was my forever love.

  “Your newspaper, sir.” The formally attired butler presented the pressed paper on a silver tray.

  Meanwhile, a uniformed maid topped off our coffee and juices.

  “Thanks.” Liam smiled at gray-haired Bondsworth. “How long have you worked here?”

  “In February, it will have been my forty-first year with the hotel.”

  “Impressive,” Liam said.

  While waiting for our food to be served, I’d read up on the suite’s history and couldn’t help asking the butler, “What’s the craziest thing a guest has asked you to find?”

  He cleared his throat, and though he kept an admirably straight face, his bright blue eyes couldn’t hide his inner smile. “Since you asked, while I would never divulge the starlet’s name, at three a.m., she requested a male stripper dance revue. While that in and of itself isn’t particularly odd, while watching, she demanded we obtain four kiddie carnival rides of the sort one might find outside of a supermarket, for her and her lady companions to ride while watching the show. She also needed a cotton candy machine, funnel cakes and Lobster Thermidor. The electric usage blew three fuses, and a malfunction in the cotton candy machine set off fire alarms.”

  “Damn . . .” Liam grinned. “Looks like we should’ve gotten more bang for our bucks.

  You could’ve at least brought us a clown.”

  “I hate clowns,” I noted.

  “So name something else,” he said. “Wow Bondsworth with a request so outrageous that you’ll forever go down in Fairmont history.”

  “Well . . .” I sucked in my lower lip. “I know they’re horribly out of season, but when I was a kid, my mom used to put raspberries and homemade whipped cream on my pancakes. I don’t suppose you could do something like that?”

  “Miss . . .” Bondsworth respectfully rolled his eyes. “I’m used to tackling the truly impossible within the hour. Your request will take but a scant few minutes.”

  “Amateur,” Liam teased when both servants were gone.

  “Okay, what would you have asked for, Mr. Big Shot?”

  “At the very least, the homemade Rice Krispies Treats you have yet to make me.”

  I clutched my chest. “You got me. How about when we get to your house tonight, we make a double batch and eat them all for dinner?”

  “Deal.” He sealed our agreement with a kiss.

  We finished our meal, and shared the raspberries and cream.

  Then we dressed—Liam in a suit and I in one of the posh outfits Rocco had helped me select what seemed like twenty years ago. I’d lost a little weight, so my hand-embroidered Gucci jeans fit loose, but they still looked great with the chunky earth-green sweater. My short leather boots had been dyed to match the denim and made my legs look extra long. I’d let my hair airdry and it framed my face in pretty waves. I barely recognized this girl in the mirror, and that was a good thing.

  “What do I do with these?” I asked Liam, holding out the sapphire-and-diamond necklace-and-earrings set that had to
have cost more money than I’d make in forty years of working in Yvonne’s Christmas shop.

  He took them, dropping them into the chest pocket of his suit. “I’ll put them in my safe. Holler when you’re ready to wear them again.”

  “Oh—I will.” I held out my left hand. “In case I was too out of it last night to tell you, thanks again for my ring. It’s incredible.” Tears stung my eyes. In my whole life, I’d never seen anything more beautiful—except for Liam himself.

  He drew me into a hug. “I’m glad you like it. I love you, and can’t wait to marry you.”

  “I feel the same.”

  “What kind of wedding do you want?”

  “Small. Maybe on a private island?”

  He laughed. “Now you’re getting the hang of spending my—our—money.”

  I stilled. “You do know I’d marry you even if you were that guy back in Rose Springs who was only in town long enough to fix his car?”

  “I know.” He kissed the tip of my nose. “But since I do happen to be in possession of a freakishly large fortune, what would it hurt for us to have a little fun?”

  We were on the way out when Liam spotted a newspaper on the foyer’s table. The two of us graced the front page. A shot had been taken while we were dancing. The photographer had caught us in that breathless still moment before a kiss. Our love shone like a beacon. My ring sparked. The headline read: Boy Billionaire to Take a Bride?

  My stomach knotted. After all those months spent hiding, there I was for the whole world to see. Pulse racing, I pressed my lips tight. “Do you think anyone will notice this outside of San Francisco?”

  “Depends . . .” He was engrossed in the article.

  I tried reading along, but could only concentrate on flashes.

  Sources say . . .

  She’s already dressed in white . . .

  Finished, Liam folded the paper, slapping it to the table. “Want the good news or bad?”

  “Bad.” I crossed my arms.

  “I’m thirty-two years old, but they’re still calling me a boy.”