Lily and the Billionaire

by Beth Michele

  I stare down at her. “Plenty of time for a kiss then.”

  That left eyebrow goes up. “For more than that, actually.”

  My chest tightens. “Unfortunately, I have to leave for the airport in an hour, so one will have to do.” I smile. “For now.”

  A happy little grin tips her lips up. “I like those little add-ons—next time, for now. Those really work for me.”

  “Do they?”

  “Yup.” She pops the P. “Very much so.”

  I tap her nose. “I’m glad. Now give me a kiss, and make it good.”

  She stretches up, bringing her mouth closer to mine. “So demanding, Mr. Harlow. You really need to work on that.”

  “I’ll take that under advisement.” My gaze trickles down to her mouth. “Now, Miss Conrad.”

  Ask and ye shall receive.

  The kiss she bestows on me is a persuasive argument for not leaving this room, this bed, her. She starts with her tongue, outlining my lips. A sensual glide. Slow, arresting, hypnotic. My dick is hard in two point five seconds, and now we’re both wondering about that tongue—what it would feel like gliding along the thick veins, licking around the head.

  Is it possible to come from just a kiss?

  It was freshman year of high school, and now, I feel as if I’ve traveled back in time. I’ll certainly find out if she doesn’t stop teasing me. I already want to push up into her, covered only by my dress shirt and nothing else. Her pussy is right there, and if I had to venture a guess, I’d say she’s wet for me. Wet and hard—we seem to bring that out in each other.

  Her mouth dances around mine, soft brushes, more tongue, then lips again. And when she adds teeth into the mix, I groan. She smiles into our kiss, knowing she’s getting to me. I wonder if she knows something else: that my brain is working overtime trying to figure out a way to stay. Would anyone notice if I had a stand-in for my presentation? There will only be four hundred people there, give or take. I can’t make it happen, but damn it, I want to.

  She pauses our connection and stares into my eyes with a smile that’s so happy my insides light up. It’s a trigger of sorts, that smile, a fundamental shift in my mind, making me wish for things that aren’t possible. Work has always come first. Right now, though? The last thing I want to do is work.

  “I wish I could stay.”

  “I don’t want you to go.”

  Then we both laugh. It seems to be part nerves, part delirium.

  Lily’s gaze strays to the clock and she drops her head to my chest with a groan. “I should get ready. Alec wanted to meet early to go over some details for the meeting.” She must read the annoyance in my expression because she puts a finger to my lips. “Don’t say a word. It’s my job, and I love my job,” she adds, removing her finger but pinning me into silence with her eyes.

  “You’d love it more if you worked for me.” My hand wanders under the shirt and I squeeze her ass. “Think of all those fringe benefits.” One kiss, and I let my finger glide along her crack. “Extended lunches.” Another touch of my mouth to hers. “Lots of bending exercises over my desk.”

  She breaks from my lips with an assertive smile. “I’ll have you know, I’m very limber.”

  “That’s one of the qualifications for the job, Miss Conrad. I’m happy to hear that won’t be a problem for you.”

  “No, it won’t be, because I’m not coming to work for you,” she says in that confident-as-hell way of hers I find so attractive. When she tries to get away, I grab her wrists, flipping her on her back and using my body to keep her there.

  “I can be very persuasive.” I frown. “When I have more time.”

  “We can be quick,” she counters, biting down on her lip and teasing me with her hips.

  “I thought you had to get ready, and besides, I want more than quick.” I press a kiss to her breast. “I want long, languid, intense.” Reluctantly, I lift my body from hers and ease off the bed. “And that, sweetheart, will have to wait.”

  She pulls a pillow over her face and lets out a muffled groan. I know how she feels as I head for the shower alone. As much as I want her in there, I’d never make it to the airport.

  When I emerge a few minutes later, she’s still in the same spot.

  “That was fast. Did you even wash?”

  “Yes, I washed.” I toss her a grin and my towel at the same time. “When you grow up with as many siblings as I did, you learn to be quick in the bathroom. It’s something I haven’t been able to shake.” My bag is on the floor, and I pull out a fresh pair of boxers along with a clean shirt and pair of pants.

  “You said you have eight siblings, right?” She glances at the duffel on the carpet. “Wait, you brought a bag? I didn’t see you carry it in.”

  “That’s because you were entranced by my presence,” I say as I dress, and she snorts. “And that’s correct, eight siblings.”

  “That’s a tribe.”

  “Yes,” I agree, my response more of a laugh. “How about you?”

  Her fingers curl into a circle. “Zero. I have none. Just me.”

  I finish buttoning my shirt and sit on the bed. “I can’t imagine that. It must’ve been lonely.”

  “A little, but only because my parents were unavailable, so I had to fend for myself.”

  “How so?”

  “They worked a lot,” she explains with an apologetic shrug. “But it was fine,” she goes on, like she needs to placate me. I want to ask her more but she looks down, as if closing a door she doesn’t want opened right now. “To be honest, what I didn’t have in siblings, I made up for in friends. My friends became my family.”

  I reach out to cover her hand with mine, forcing her gaze up. “I like that. Family isn’t always blood.” My eyes zoom in on her face, the bright green of her eyes, her captivating smile, and I try to imprint them on my mind. “I have to go,” I say with regret, tugging on her hand until she follows me off the bed. My thoughts are jumbled as I retrieve my things and get ready to leave.

  At the door, I drop the bag and pull her into my arms. “This was the best spontaneous decision I’ve ever made.” Now that I think of it, it’s really the only one I’ve ever made.

  She nods against my shoulder, holding on tight. As soon as her arms loosen a little, I step back and curve my hand around her cheek.

  “See you soon, okay?”

  Her mouth lifts at the corners. “Okay,” she says, and this time, I think she might just believe me. I pivot to walk out but she grabs my arm. “Wait! I almost forgot.”

  She hurries across the room, bending to lift something out of…the garbage can? She rushes back with a square of white tissue paper and hands it to me. “For you.”

  “Um…you’re giving me something…from the trash?”

  Her cheeks darken red. “No, it’s…I put it in there because…” she stammers as she tries to explain herself. “It’s a long story,” she huffs out. “Just open it.”

  Unaccustomed to receiving gifts, I stare at it, uncertain of the appropriate response. “I’ve always wanted tissue paper, thank you—and from the garbage, too.”

  She flicks my arm. “You’re a jerk. Open it.”

  It takes only a second and I have it unwrapped. A hand-painted B sits in my palm. It’s very nice, but I have no idea what it means. I hope my confusion doesn’t come across as ungrateful. “I don’t understand.”

  She parks her hands on her hips and jerks her chin forward, that sassy attitude in full swing. “Jace, it’s a B.”

  I let it dangle in the air between us. “Yes, I can see that.”

  “For billionaire,” she explains, as if it’s the most obvious answer in the world. A loud laugh exits my mouth and surprises me. She surprises me.

  “I love it, Lily. Thank you.”

  A soft pink sweeps across her cheeks. “You’re welcome.”

  I know I need to leave, but somehow my feet aren’t getting the memo. “Okay, I’m going now.”

  Lily watches with amusement, as i
f she knows this is difficult for me. I do it, though, putting one foot forward and opening the door, but not before I get the last word over my shoulder. “I’m gonna miss you.”

  Her responding smile could light up all of Seattle, and after the door closes behind me, I pause to admire my present. It’s a thoughtful gesture from a thoughtful person. I’ve never received a gift from a woman before, my mother excluded. It seems preposterous, really, after thirty two years on this planet. It also seems meaningful somehow. I marvel at it, the way the B is painted in watercolors, the swirly, playful style of the letter. Every time I see it, it will remind me of Lily.

  But there’s not a chance in hell I could forget her anyway.

  “Spill it,” Georgia prods with an all-too-eager smile that makes me laugh. “Let’s talk about his cock.”

  “We are not having this conversation.” I sit back against the café chair. “I mean, how old are we, twelve?”

  “Actually, twelve-year-olds do not discuss such things. Twenty-seven-year-olds do. Now continue, please.”

  This time, my laughter draws the attention of two women at a nearby table. “It was amazing, okay? He’s amazing.”

  Georgia considers me for a second. “Oh wow, no details—this is worse than I thought.” She fingers the whipped cream mountain on her hot chocolate, the gears in her mind spinning.

  “I don’t think you have enough whipped cream.”

  She looks over at her cup. “You’re right.” Then she flags our waitress down as she passes by. “Excuse me, could I get a side of extra whipped cream please?”

  “You’re ridiculous,” I tell her, and even the waitress seems to agree with my assessment before she prances away.

  “Yes, but you already knew that. Now stop deflecting.”

  My cappuccino goes down easy, the warm liquid soothing my dry throat. “I really like him.” I shrug, giving the words little importance though they feel significant. I glance around the café then lean closer to Georgia. “And he has a big, gorgeous cock.”

  “Holy fucking shit.” Whipped-cream-covered lips expel the loud curse, and now it’s Georgia’s turn to attract attention. A man close by glares at us, but true to form, she isn’t bothered in the least.

  I throw her a napkin and a smirk. “Can you wipe your mouth? It’s hard for me to take you seriously.”

  She dabs at her lips, but her smile comes shining through. “I’m speechless, and you know that’s a rarity for me.”

  “I enjoyed spending time with him, that’s all. I haven’t known him that long,” I protest, pointing to a spot she missed under her mouth.

  Georgia cleans off the rest of the cream. “That long? What does time have to do with it? How long does it take to figure out if you’re into someone? Either you are, or you aren’t. Which is it?” I’m about to respond when she holds her hand out, palm up. “Don’t bother answering. The smile on your face says it all. Now what about him?” she asks, crumpling the napkin and dropping it on the table.

  “I think?”

  “How are you even doubting it?” She reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. “The man flew here from Canada, right? To see you.”

  “Right.” Butterflies take flight in my stomach, a confirmation that her words ring true.

  She stands, reaching for my hand. “Good. Now that we got that settled, what’s your pleasure? Either Nordstrom or watching old black and white movies.”

  “I think you know my answer.”

  “Shopping is such great therapy, isn’t it?” Georgia peers sideways at me as we stroll arm in arm through Nordstrom in downtown Seattle.

  “Therapy? I don’t need therapy,” I scoff, and she bumps her shoulder against mine.

  “First of all, everyone could use a dose of therapy. Secondly, you’ve been obsessively checking your phone for any sign of communication from your man.”

  My man. The words have a nice ring to them and make me giddy.

  “Have I?”

  Georgia glares at my hand, the one my cell phone happens to be glued to at the moment. “Yeah, okay, Lil. Whatever you say.” She tugs me closer. “I meant to tell you—Rowan FaceTimed me early this morning to show me his Lego set. He can’t stop talking about it. He found a special spot for it on his shelf.”

  “I’m so glad. By the way, how’s he doing with that new medication for his ADHD?”

  “Pretty good, I think. It’s definitely helping in school, and they recently upped some of his services to accommodate his learning challenges. Since they determined he’s somewhere on the Autism spectrum, I’ve been doing all this research to see what kind of things I can do to better help him.”

  “That’s great.” Now it’s my turn to pull her close. “He’s proof that miracles do exist.”

  “Yeah, he really is.” Fondness and love thread Georgia’s tone and warm me from the inside out. “He’s got such a wonderful group of friends who have his back, and of course a sister who would kick the ass of anyone who tries to hurt him.”

  “I’d be right behind you on that, baby.”

  Her smile is one of gratitude. “You know, you’re spoiling him with all those packages. He’s starting to check the mail on his own every week. He really looks forward to them.”

  “And I look forward to shopping for him knowing it makes him so happy.”

  She briefly drops her head to my shoulder. “You’re a damn good egg, Lily Conrad.”

  “Speaking of eggs…” The air scents with bacon and garlic as we pass the Nordstrom Grill. “I’m starving.”

  She balks. “Starving? You had a chocolate croissant just a little while ago.”

  “I know, but now I need real food.” Her stomach groans and I laugh. “Apparently I’m not the only one who’s hungry. Besides, you like breakfast for dinner.”

  “Fiiiiiiine,” she acquiesces. “I guess I could go for an omelet.”

  My cell phone buzzes and I almost hit myself in the face with it. Georgia laughs her ass off at my eagerness. None of it matters when I see the text from Jace.

  Hello Miss Conrad

  Tamping down my smile isn’t even a possibility. I free my arm from Georgia’s to respond.

  Hello Mr. Harlow

  Jace: remind me why I came back to Canada? I’d much rather be there with you

  not your smartest move

  Jace: LOL

  Jace: I’ve been thinking of you

  Oh, my heart.

  me too

  Jace: it pleases me that we’re on the same page. now tell me what you’re doing

  shopping with Georgia

  Jace: Georgia?

  my best friend

  Jace: that reminds me…hold please

  K

  Two seconds later an image comes through of Jace looking stunning in a dove gray suit, but that’s not what catches my eye. It’s the B he’s holding up in his hand that grabs my attention, and the warm smile on his face—I feel it all the way to my toes. My bones tingle with it.

  you have it with you!

  Jace: of course. I love it

  it looks good on you

  Jace: YOU look good on me

  there is great truth to that statement

  Jace: there most certainly is

  I can feel Georgia’s eyes on me, and when I glance up, she waggles her blonde brows. I glare back as if Jace can actually see her expression.

  Jace: when did you say you’re back in NY

  Friday

  Jace: perfect

  because…

  Jace: I’m taking you out

  you are? I don’t believe I was asked

  Jace: oh Lily, Lily, Lily

  Even via text, I can hear the promise of what’s to come. A slight shiver rolls through me.

  Jace: would you be so kind as to offer me the pleasure of your company on Friday evening?

  when you ask so nicely, how can I refuse? I’d be delighted

  Jace: that answer pleases me very much

  Knowing Georgia is watching me, I tr
y to keep my own pleasure in check.

  any hints?

  Jace: that wouldn’t be any fun. you’ll just have to wait and see

  I guess I can do that

  Jace: you don’t have a choice, Miss Conrad

  you’ve made that abundantly clear, Mr. Harlow

  Jace: I have to run to a dinner meeting. my next couple of days are going to be very hectic

  hope everything goes well

  Jace: thank you

  Jace: and Lily?

  yes?

  Am I holding my breath? I think I am.

  Jace: I’ll be dreaming of you

  Goosebumps pebble my skin. You’ll be in my dreams too, Jace. I don’t type the words, but it doesn’t make them any less true. Satisfied, I drop my phone into my purse and face Georgia. Her grin is impossibly wide.

  “Feel better?”

  I exhale a breath. “Yes.”

  She nods toward the restaurant. “Thank goodness. Can we go eat now?”

  “Yeah.” As we walk through the doors, I stop short of the hostess stand. Georgia turns to me.

  “What is it?”

  My gaze meets hers. “I want this to be something,” I confess, and though my head is screaming no, my heart doesn’t seem to agree. Georgia doesn’t need to ask what this is; she already knows. She sends me back a look I’ve seen on her face many times before. I recognize the compassion in her eyes.

  “Oh, sweetie, can’t you see? It already is.”

  “Bro, what the—”

  I slam the book closed, quickly laying my arm over the cover. “You invited yourself over to watch the game, not to eavesdrop.”

  I’m already regretting this decision. Definitely not my most stellar idea given I won’t be home. But Chaz presented a strong argument for viewing the ball game on my mammoth television, and I caved.

  He gestures with his hand. “Give it here.”

  “Chaz.”

  “That commanding tone may work on your women, but I’m immune to your domineering ways.”

  My laughter bellows in the silence of the room. “My women? You’re an asshole.”

  “The book,” he repeats, unrelenting.

  I slide it across the table, bracing for impact. “Don’t say a word.”

  “Attracting a Woman: Flirting, Dating, and Engineering Affection,” he reads aloud. His gaze flies up. “What the actual fuck? You can’t engineer affection, and since when do you need to read a book to get a woman?”