Lost (Bad Boys with Billions Book 1)

by Laura Marie Altom

  Willow turned onto a snow-packed side road.

  Straight ahead, a bonfire raged.

  A good twenty or so partiers in varying states of undress ringed it, dancing to dubstep. Orange sparks rose like drunken fireflies.

  Willow parked the car between a leaning mailbox and a ratty pickup. She killed the engine and once out of the car, tossed the keys on her seat. “Decide between you who wants to be my DD, bitches!”

  “I’ll do it,” Ella said. “After last night, I don’t much feel like drinking.”

  “Why did she call you Julie?” I leaned forward, bracing my forearms against the seat backs. Big mistake. That close to Ella’s pouty lips, I no longer gave two shits about the name thing. All I wanted was to kiss her hard.

  “It’s my middle name.”

  “Sure.” Ella Julie? Had her mom been on crack? I wasn’t buying it, but then again, I didn’t much care. At the moment, only one thing was on my mind—how to get this girl naked. I hated myself for that. She deserved better. I knew that. The woody straining my fly did not.

  “Look, this was probably a mistake.”

  “The party?” Or me? The thought of her taking a pass on what I had to offer was sobering.

  She toyed with the zipper on her puffy white coat.

  “Look at me.” I unbuckled her seat belt, hoping she’d turn my way. Instead, she kept her gaze focused on the glove box. “Ell, talk to me. What’s wrong?”

  “I-I’ve got to get out of here.”

  She bolted from the car, running off into a field.

  It took me forever just to puzzle my way out of the backseat. By the time I was free, and I’d pocketed the keys and closed both car doors, she’d merged with the shadows. The moonlit, hard-packed snow became my friend, safekeeping Ella’s tracks, guiding me to the sketchy outbuilding she’d dodged into.

  The farther I walked, the fainter the dubstep grew until all I made out was the distracting, pumping beat.

  I didn’t have a coat, and once I stepped inside what turned out to be a woodworking shop, the still air compounded the cold.

  Huddled in a corner, Ella’s breath left her in silvery clouds.

  “What the hell?” I asked beside her. “Did I miss something?”

  “I’m s-sorry . . .” Since she was crying, I didn’t give her grief about yet again apologizing. Instead, I drew her up, tugged her coat’s zipper down, then eased my arms around her waist, hoping she’d share not just her warmth, but her problem.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “I-I’m so stupid. I let Willow talk me into coming, and this whole party thing isn’t my scene.”

  “Fine.” I tucked my fingers beneath her chin, urging her to meet my gaze. “What is?”

  She shook her head, in the process, brushing me away. “You don’t get it. I can’t do this. I don’t even know who you are, but you’re already in here”—she tapped her temples—”and I have to stay focused. I need my job—not some random guy.” That hurt.

  Now, I pushed her away. Random? Shit . . .

  Time for a reality check. What was I doing, standing around freezing in some stranger’s barn? All for some chick who clearly wasn’t even into me?

  “All right, well . . .” I felt like a dumbass when I backed into a table saw. “I’m going to find a way back to the motel. It’s been real.”

  I’d left the shack and trudged halfway to the bonfire when footsteps crunched the snow behind me.

  “Liam! Wait!”

  What now? I was done. I didn’t like the old insecurities she’d dredged up, and so I kept walking until she cupped her small, cold hands around my elbow, urging me around.

  The pulsing bass from the chaotic music made me want to punch something.

  “I don’t beg, Ella.” I froze in place, ramming my hands in my pockets to keep from grabbing her and never letting go. “If you don’t want me, no problem.” Only there was a very big problem in that I wanted her—bad.

  She licked her lips. “You must be cold.”

  “No shit.”

  “Let’s stand by the fire.”

  I would rather have died from exposure on this very spot than lower myself to groveling for her attention. “I’m good. What do you want?”

  She looked to her Hello Kitty snow boots, then to me. The tip of her nose had reddened from the cold. From this angle, with her coat still unzipped, her low-cut T-shirt offered quite a view. The mounds of her boobs peeked at me above the lacy cups of her bra. Even though I’d said no, my body still said yes. “I-I know you said I’m not supposed to apologize, but I am sorry for messing all of this—you and me—up. We were supposed to have fun tonight, but I got all confused, and—”

  Fuck it. I cupped her cheeks, drawing her in for a kiss. At first, I teased her like she’d teased me, nibbling, applying barely any pressure, then more. We exchanged breaths and then bold sweeps of our tongues. The girl melted me. She made me feel trapped in her spell and I didn’t care. She’d reduced me to the vulnerable, scared kid I’d never again wanted to be. Only now, I was all man with sex-fueled desires. The kiss turned epic, and I slid my hands to her hips, lifting her in a fluid motion until she wrapped her legs around me, pressing herself against my swollen fly. I wanted her so bad, my cock ached.

  I somehow turned us around, alternating between trudging through the snow and kissing.

  Each step built more pressure, and by the time I got us back to the shed and managed to bump the door closed, there was no stopping what she’d started by chasing me down. I set her on a tool bench to fish through my wallet for a condom.

  She hopped down, kicking off her boots to wriggle out of her yellow cotton panties and jeans.

  Assuming she was good to go, I lifted her again, urging her legs around me, only when I tried easing my way in, it was like ramming a brick wall. Christ . . .

  “Keep trying,” she urged. Tears glistened on her cheeks, but they might as well have been the twin rivers of acid rising up my throat. “It’s okay.”

  No. This wasn’t anywhere close to okay—for either of us.

  “Shh . . .” I tried kissing her tears away, but that only made her cry more.

  From outside by the fire, the dubstepping rednecks hollered, reminding me where we were—not in my usually controlled world, but a place of chaos with far too many random moving parts. I wanted out of here. I wanted this clearly fragile woman somewhere safe and warm and quiet. I needed to take my time with her, to erase whatever horrors she’d previously been through.

  “Let’s get you back in your clothes.” I flung the condom, then pulled up my pants. I knelt in front of her, dressing her like she was a delicate doll. “You all right?” She nodded, even though I suspected she was lying.

  I was selfishly glad for her lie. It gave me emotional permission to get on with more important things—like getting us the hell out of this damned cold shed.

  I held Ella’s hand all the way to the fire, then told her to stay put on a bench made out of car rims and two-by-fours while I talked to her friend.

  A few minutes later, I found Willow on the hood of a red Ford truck. Some guy was doing a body shot off of her bared abdomen, and she was squealing in apparent delight.

  Upon sitting up, she saw me standing there and asked with a broad smile and beckoning fingers, “Ready for your turn, big boy?”

  My stomach turned. “I’m taking Ella home in your car.”

  She frowned. “Who?”

  “Julie?”

  “Ooooh. Yeah, go ahead and tell Julie to drive it to work. I’ll pick it up there. Dougie’s gonna give me a ride, aren’t you, hon?” She performed a kiss and crotch-grab combo that would have earned her at least five bucks in a seedy strip club.

  “Hell, yeah . . .” Dougie slid his hands up her shirt to cop a feel. “You can ride me all night.”

  I damn near threw up in my mouth—not just because the two of them were a bit much, but because I was jealous that my good pal Dougie was gonna get some.

 
I found my way back to Ella, and was glad for the fire’s warmth. “Ready?”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Practically from the moment she hit the seat, Ella crashed. If it weren’t for her faint, even snores, I’d have thought she was faking.

  I got us back to town okay but then was lost. I gave her a gentle nudge. “Wake up, sleepyhead. Where do you live?”

  She stirred when we passed Wal-Mart and was fully awake by the time we reached my motel. “Take a left by Sonic.”

  I turned by the drive-in to find myself on a short access road leading to an apartment complex.

  Despite the cold, a few couples were out walking and a large group stood around a trash can fire. In my neighborhood, I didn’t see many of those. I wished Ella lived in a less seedy situation.

  “Mine is the building on the end.” She pointed toward a black zone where the parking lot lights had all burned out—or, the more realistic option, been shot out. Again, I fought an irrational urge to save her from this place.

  I parked the car. Killed the engine. “I’ll walk you to your apartment.”

  “I can manage.”

  “I’m sure you can, but not on my watch.”

  “You’re not my father.”

  “Never said I wanted to be . . .” Did she have any idea how sexy she looked at that moment? Eyes flashing anger while she drew in a corner of her full lower lip. My frustrated cock sprung back to life.

  She sighed. Before I’d had a chance to will away this latest Ella-inspired erection, she was out of the car and cutting across dark, dead grass. The snow had been trampled by what looked like dozens of little feet. Mangled corpses of snowmen in varying shapes and sizes stood sentinel, insuring we’d share no more adult fun. The biggest reeked of piss.

  As was starting to be a discomfiting habit, I chased after her. “Wait!”

  She did not. “I have to be up early to open the snack bar.”

  “How early is early?”

  “Seven.”

  I was in the gym most mornings by five.

  “This is me.” She’d stopped in front of unit seventeen. Only the seven hung crooked and looked more like an L. Something small and dark moved in the nearby stairwell. I hoped really hard it was a cat and not a rat.

  “Get inside. It’s colder than a witch’s tit out here.” I didn’t flatter myself by even hoping I’d get an invitation to join her.

  “I’d rather you’d just go.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “If my evil plan was to have my way with you, Ell, don’t you think I’d have done it back out on the farm?”

  Her eyes welled. I wanted so badly to draw her into my arms—better yet, toss her over my shoulder and sprint for the nearest five-star hotel. But since I already knew the Shamrock Inn was the classiest this burg had to offer, it looked like we were both S-O-O-L.

  “Please,” I said. “Please, just get your shivering little body inside and lock the door. I need to know you’re safe.”

  “I-I can’t.” Great. Once again, her teeth were chattering. Her gaze darted from the concrete walkway to the underbelly of the level above us.

  “Why? Lose your key?”

  “Why are you pressuring me? Can’t you just go?”

  Okay, whoa. “How am I pressuring you? All I want is to make sure you’re okay. In case you haven’t noticed, this isn’t exactly the best of neighborhoods.”

  She raised her chin. “I’m way safer here than I ever was in a fancy house.”

  Ella

  Why wouldn’t he just go? The last thing I wanted was for him to know I really lived in the unit above this one. I’d already gone way too far tonight, yet not nearly far enough. His kisses touched me like healing rain, drenching me, drowning me in liquid hope. I’d wanted so much more of him. I’d wanted him deep inside as proof that goodness and light were once again even possible. Why, then, had my body rejected him?

  “I’m not moving until you’re safely inside.”

  “I hate you.” But we both knew I didn’t. What I felt for him was so beyond complicated, it couldn’t be processed as a single thought. He’d become a symphony in my mind, composed of boundless crescendos that could never reach any logical end. And so I was left hanging by one hand from a cliff. If I told him everything, baring my all, grasping his fingers for him to drag me to safety, what if he—whatever it was we shared—turned out to be nothing more substantive than a whisper? A mirage? A lovely birdsong on a breeze?

  “Let me in, Ell . . .” He wasn’t just talking about my apartment, but my soul.

  I started to yet again bolt, but then I stood on my tiptoes, curving my face into the safe, warm hollow of his neck. I kissed him, nuzzled him, took his hands.

  He groaned. “What are you doing to me?”

  “Come inside. We can start again.”

  “Ell . . .” He swept his hand under the fall of my hair, cupping the back of my head. I knew he wanted me to look at him, but I couldn’t meet his gaze. He didn’t have a clue who I really was—what I’d been through. I would tell him. Maybe. But not now. Now, I just wanted him to hold me like he’d never let go. I wanted to forget he was soon leaving, and that odds were I’d never see him again. I wanted his cleansing, life-affirming power inside me to wash away my past for just one night.

  And so I forced a deep breath before leading him up the stairs.

  At the top, we sidestepped Mrs. Lincoln’s two clay pots of yellow impatiens that the idiot across from her used as an ashtray. In that moment, I hated that nameless man I’d never formally met, but had seen all too often in passing. I hated the darkness he represented in that he found it acceptable to smash out tar and toxins into an old woman’s quest for beauty.

  I dropped Liam’s hand long enough to take my key from my pocket, then ease it into the lock that always needed jiggling.

  Inside, I wished for potpourri or pretty scented candles to mask the perpetual smell of fried onions and whatever the owner’s exterminator sprayed bimonthly.

  “It’s not fancy,” I said.

  Liam locked the door. “Did I complain?”

  I set my key on the kitchen counter. “Would you like anything to drink? I have orange juice—and water. But not bottled. Too expensive. Just from the tap.”

  “I’m not thirsty.” He backed me against the fridge, kissing me without touching me.

  His lips were still cold, but soon enough the pressure created heat that licked and stroked my insides with every bold sweep of his tongue. I needed him to slow down, so I sucked his lip into my mouth, nipping him—for my own sake, erecting the illusion that I was in control.

  I hooked my finger around one of the belt loops on his jeans, then dragged him to my room. As usual, just the way I liked it, all the lights were on. In my sanctuary, no darkness was allowed.

  In front of my painstakingly made bed, with the sumptuous burgundy comforter set I’d bought on sale at work, I pushed Liam back. I wanted him to fall like I was falling. To feel that instant of confusion, of not being sure exactly where anything was leading, but tenuously thinking that just might be okay for once.

  I unbuttoned his fly, then a few bottom buttons on his red plaid shirt. I pressed kisses to his hard abdomen, easing my curious hands under his shirt where I splayed my fingers, stroking his coarse hair. He was all unyielding hard muscle, but so warm. I opened the rest of his shirt, spreading the halves to take in the entirety of his magnificence. We both knew he was strong enough to take me anytime he wanted, any way he wanted, but he lay patiently with his arms stretched behind him, his fingers gripping the top of the headboard. His closed-eye, pinched expression read pleasurable pain.

  Still fully dressed, I straddled him, bracing myself with my hands on his pecs. “Open your eyes.”

  He did.

  But my request had been a mistake. I thought I’d known what I was doing, but it turns out I didn’t have a clue. In his eyes, the mirrored illusion of my control was shattered in a thousand shimmering pieces. All along he’d held the upper hand,
but in that moment I no longer cared. Maybe I was back to my own personal cliff and wanted to fall? Only in those eyes he promised to catch me.

  He released the headboard slowly, inching his arms down until his hands cupped my ass. The whole time, he never dropped my gaze. He made sure I knew his every move, and in that knowledge, I found the safety needed to curl my body forward, kissing him, angling my head in hopes of somehow getting deeper. I wanted to know all of him. Taste him. Crawl inside of him where his soul could watch over me and forever keep me safe. He was so kind and simple and straightforward. He didn’t lie and he didn’t play games. What I saw was what I got, and I liked all of him very much.

  “Know what I think?” He played his fingertips along the bare strip of belly between my T-shirt and jeans.

  “Don’t have a clue . . .” His powerful emerald stare tilted my world. “But you could be a gentleman and tell me.”

  He framed my hips, tucking his fingers in my back pockets. “I think you’re not ready for this.”

  “You’re rejecting me?” My eyes instantly stung. I’d been afraid of taking whatever mysterious connection we had further, but the thought of never being with him hurt worse.

  “Hell, no . . .” He sat higher in the bed, shifting me down, landing me in the safety zone of his lap. “I’m just not sure this is a good idea.” He kissed me. “I mean, it’s a win-win for me, but what’re you getting out of it?”

  I bowed my head. This wasn’t happening. Two failed missions in one night?

  “Think about it.” He kissed me again, deeply, yet with a note of softness that tugged a long-forgotten chord of contentment. He made me feel the way I used to when Blaine and I first met. But was that a good thing, considering where my life with him had ended? “Even though I know nothing about your past, it doesn’t take a NASA scientist to figure out something—or someone—has you scared. You don’t tell your supposed friends and coworkers your real name. You didn’t even want me to know your true apartment. That first night at the bar, you begged me not to hurt you.” He leaned forward, kissing my closed eyes, my cheeks, the tip of my nose. “None of that’s normal. I can’t in good conscience be with you until you at least confide in me enough so that I know what happened to turn you into a scared little mouse.” That pissed me off.