Besting the Billionaire (Billionaire Bad Boys)

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Besting the Billionaire (Billionaire Bad Boys) Page 11

by Alison Aimes


  Lord, she loved his filthy mouth. And, honestly, any Russian rumbled in that sexy, deep voice made her hot as hell.

  “You’re…tight.” His words were deteriorating into broken, rough grunts as he worked himself deeper. “Like a…fucking vise.”

  “Oh Lord.” Her head lolled back. “So good…you can’t imagine…six long years…of nothing.” Lost in a haze of pleasure, the moaned words spilled from her. “But I knew…I knew it could be like this.”

  “Six years?” The thrusts stopped abruptly. “Bljat. No damn way.”

  It took her lust-soaked brain a minute to process what she’d done.

  Then, skin flashing hot, stomach pitching, she slammed her palms against his chest, a horrific sense of disloyalty leaving her dry mouthed. “If you tell anyone, I’ll deny it. I’ll—”

  Tightening his hold, Alexi pressed his mouth to hers. “I won’t tell a soul.”

  She yanked her face away. “Don’t bullshit me.”

  “Why would I spill your secret? When you could easily turn around and reveal how I bribed the ex-mayor into approving one of my hotel permits?”

  She stared at him, stunned.

  “Took less than twenty minutes,” he continued, “to prove I’d discovered he was using community money to fund trips with two mistresses and secure his signature on a permit that had been out of reach before.”

  He’d just handed her a knife and showed her how to make him bleed.

  If word of what he’d done came out, Alexi could be in big trouble. Perhaps even go to jail.

  She swallowed hard. “I don’t…I don’t know what to say.”

  “Say you’ll stay.” Still deep inside her, he slid his hands down her arms and interlaced their fingers. “Because now we’re even. Now we both know something about the other we don’t want exposed.” His gaze blazed hot with hunger. “And now you know just how much I’m willing to risk to keep you here with me.”

  Her breathing hitched. “We don’t even like each other.”

  “That’s the first untruth said here tonight.” He ran his teeth along her neck, making her shiver anew. “But if you want to believe nothing else, believe this. What happens here stays between us. I’d cut my balls off before I’d betray that.”

  She hadn’t expected the fragile trust he offered in typical, blunt Kazaknov-style, but she seized it greedily, tucking it away in a part of her soul she hadn’t even realized was ravenous for such things.

  “I’ll never betray what you told me, either,” she whispered. “Or what happens here tonight. You can believe that, too.”

  “I do. It’s half of why I’m here.”

  “And the other half?”

  “Insane, insatiable lust.” Leaning forward, he pressed his forehead to hers, his voice a low rumble as that slight movement drove him deeper inside. “The kind that claws at me and won’t let me eat or work or think. The kind that has me giving up secrets just to keep you here with me.”

  “It’s been tormenting me, too,” she admitted.

  “Good.” His sudden, cocky grin was her only warning. “Because some men might hear six years and shrivel under the pressure. Lucky for you, I live for that kind of challenge.”

  A bark of laughter erupted. “You really are such an arrogant, inappropriate bastard.”

  “Too soon?” He rubbed his nose against hers, his playfulness shocking her all over again. “But it wiped that wary expression off your face, didn’t it? Made you smile.”

  Another rush of warmth spiraled through her, making her stupid again, making her speak before she’d considered the full consequences. “Actually, I don’t think I’ve felt this good in a long while.”

  His smile disappeared fast.

  Replaced by an intense look that stole her breath.

  “Jesus, Armageddon. You really do know how to bring a man to his knees.” For a second, he almost looked afraid. Then, his expression shifted, slipping back to the familiar, in-control, arrogant expression she was used to as his hands slid beneath her ass and the thick head of his cock nudged her folds. “I’m going to fuck you hard now. Tell me yes.”

  “Yes.”

  Less than a heartbeat later, he drove deep, cementing them together, making her gasp, the cool, polished wood beneath her an erotic contrast to the white-hot heat of the man wrapped around her front.

  Then there was no time for talk as they moved together, in seamless rhythm, proving they were every bit as good together as Alexi had predicted, her nerves winding tighter as the heat between them blazed and he worked her faster and faster up and down his thick cock.

  Alexi Kazankov fucked like he did everything else. With furious intensity and a single-minded, near-violent ruthlessness that offered no quarter. That left her no place to hide. Or pretend.

  Sex with Francoise had offered no pleasure. He hadn’t given a damn about the young, pliable body beneath him as long as she did what he said. With Russell, there’d been no sex at all, but outside the bedroom she’d still been expected to conform, to be the pretty ornament and doting wife.

  But now? Here with Alexi?

  She was only herself.

  “Oh Lord, Alexi. I’m…I’m going to come.” Again.

  “With me.”

  Their eyes locked.

  Their battle for mastery, the trampled flowers, the ugly spray-painted threats, the grief and losses, the problems with the company, all far away.

  It was simply the two of them. Together. Slick skin. Rasped breaths. Moving as one. Striving toward the same goal. Their temperaments, their kinks, their needs an absolute, extraordinary fit.

  “Yes!” She splintered apart, her back bowing as unrelenting, exquisite pleasure surged through her.

  “Together.” His words were a growl as he followed her over the edge. “This time we bring each other to our fucking knees.”

  Which was perfect. Just the right thing for him to say.

  Except that it reminded her of the aftermath. When she’d have to stand back up, walk away, and pretend the man deep inside her was nothing more than a rival out to crush her—unless she destroyed him first.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Any particular plan?” Jessie eyed the crowded conference room.

  Lily sympathized with her assistant’s deer-in-headlights expression. The place was filled to the brim with business types and lobbyists, the noise alone intimidating. Not to mention the fact that the men outnumbered the women twenty to one.

  She could only hope she was hiding her nerves better.

  Oh, and while she was hoping, might as well add her wish that the elegant red scarf she was rocking hid the telling bruise at the hollow of her clavicle, one she’d acquired last night. A recent widow CEO with a hickey wouldn’t score too many respect points.

  But, good Lord, it had been worth it.

  Though how a person could feel satisfied and shitty, terrified, and smug all at the same time was beyond her. But there it was. She was a roller coaster of emotion. Close to purring whenever her sated body tingled with aftershocks. Near to bawling when she looked down and caught the flash of gold squarely back on her finger.

  But none of that mattered now.

  This was business as usual.

  Squaring her shoulders, she spoke above the mad hum. “The plan is to use this meet and greet to add at least one board member to my side. Maybe two.”

  Last night, the news of Pierson’s resignation had stunned party attendees, sent shockwaves through the board, and left its members reeling and more determined than ever to choose a CEO who could offer stability and vision.

  She needed to be that person for them today.

  “Why not three board members?” teased Jessie.

  “Three it is.” Lily had never felt more as if she could conquer the world.

  “Someone ate their Wheaties this morning.”

  Sure. Let’s go with that. “You take the right side,” she told Jessie. “I’ll take the left. If you see any of the names on our list send them
my way. I’m hoping a little face-to-face time will settle nerves and bring them to our side.”

  “Got it. Good luck.” Three steps later, Jessie and her bright red tips disappeared in the crowd.

  On a slow inhale, Lily surveyed the nearby faces for one she recognized—and locked gazes with familiar arctic eyes and sinfully long lashes.

  She froze in midbreath, desire roaring through her.

  Alexi Kazankov stood less than twenty feet away, towering over those flocked around him, his stare locked on her.

  Her body’s reaction was instantaneous—and unwelcome. Her fingers pressing against the bruise at her pulse point, her heels gliding toward him before she’d even realized what she was doing.

  No, no, no. She forced her feet to still. Dropped her hand to her side.

  This was not the game plan.

  She’d steeled herself for this moment. Gone over in her head exactly how casual she’d behave when they saw each other.

  He’d given her a beautiful gift, but it had been a one-time experience. No returns and no exchanges.

  Sucking down a sharp breath, she wrenched her gaze away. The last thing she needed was for someone to notice her panting after her business rival like a dog in heat.

  “Looking for your next sugar daddy, Mom?” Too late. The scent of cigars wafted over her as her least favorite person invaded her personal space. “I wouldn’t bet on Alexi Kazankov. He’s not the marrying kind and, unlike my dad, he looks like he’ll live a long time.”

  Just like that, her priorities righted themselves. Because she wasn’t looking for a man to take care of her, or ease her way, or save her. This time she was betting on herself.

  “This is an unpleasant surprise.” Smile fixed in place, she turned to face Paul. “What are you doing here? You were fired.”

  “I’m meeting a friend for lunch.” He had to be lying. The selfish prick had no friends. “How about you? Are you meeting a friend here, too? Someone in particular, perhaps?” He smoothed his too-long tie over his rounded belly, his taunting gaze shifting between her and Kazankov. “Or are you too stupid to heed my warning and realize you’re not the only one who knows how to use sex to get what they want?”

  The repeated taunt, so soon on the heels of her recent, reckless indulgence, hit a little too close to home.

  Still, she refused to let a fool like Paul get to her.

  “Somehow I can’t help but feel you don’t have my best interest at heart.” Smile fixed in place, she met his narrowed gaze head-on. “What’s more, I don’t like what you’re implying about Kazankov’s character or my own.”

  “Who’s implying? Once a bimbo always a bimbo.”

  Like the rest of the world, Paul had always believed she’d used sex to trap his dad into marrying her. Then used the same tactic to get him to give her the CEO job.

  Sometimes, she wished Russell’s eldest was right. That she had been a femme-fatal puppeteer, making his dad and everyone else dance to her tune. At least that would have meant she’d been in control, the predator rather than the prey. The reality was a lot less badass.

  She’d come across Russell at a high roller party Francoise had hired her out to attend. Scared, strung out, beaten down, all she’d been thinking about was getting through the night. To this day, she didn’t know exactly why Russell had pursued her, why he’d pressed his number into her palm, even when she told him no. All he would say when pushed was that she reminded him of someone.

  Now, she was beginning to wonder if that someone had been important to Kazankov as well.

  But all she’d known at the time was that Russell had come for her when she’d needed his help—despite the fact that she’d called from a Parisian prison in the early hours of the morning.

  What’s more, he’d refused to leave French soil without her, half bullying, half cajoling the police into appointing her a proper lawyer. One who’d not only gotten her out on the grounds of self-defense but also had her record expunged.

  Then, brash and pushy as always, her newfound savior had bundled her onto his private plane and offered her the deal of a lifetime: safety, security, a clean bed, and, best of all, a second chance to leave the ugliness behind. And all she had to do was clean herself up, keep his secrets, and be his trusted companion and wife.

  It had seemed like the rescue she’d been waiting for her whole life. The one she hadn’t gotten with Francoise.

  It wasn’t until almost a year into her marriage that she realized she’d traded one kind of prison for another.

  But this time she’d stayed and grown stronger—less prey and more her own person—and, eventually, as Russell grew feebler, their marriage had changed, too. First, she’d run his personal life, dealing with doctors and medicines and the rounds of endless appointments. Then, she’d helped with the business. Best of all, she’d stopped looking for someone else to save her and started looking to herself.

  It was past time Russell’s eldest understood exactly what the woman she’d become was now capable of.

  “This will be my last warning.” Thankful for the heels that put them eye-to-eye, she turned to face Paul head-on. “Talk to me like that again and word of what you were doing with company funds leaks to the press. You won’t just be persona non grata in the business world, you’ll be a wanted criminal. I’m done protecting someone who doesn’t deserve it.”

  His glower deepened. “You think you can just take everything away from me? Say a few words to Jim, and he’ll fall on his sword for you? That he’ll just leave me behind while you drag him down?”

  Now they were getting to the heart of what was upsetting Paul.

  Jim must have stood up to him since their chat at the ruined grave.

  She sent the man a silent cheer.

  “I’m not interested in dragging him down,” she told Paul. “I’m interested in building him up. Letting him see he doesn’t need to prove anything to anyone.”

  “Bullshit,” snarled Russell’s eldest. “He’s my brother—and he’s weak. He needs me.”

  She suspected it was actually the other way around. That the seething man in front of her needed his younger brother more than he could ever admit.

  Oh, Russell. So much of this is on you.

  He might have saved her, but he’d wrought such destruction elsewhere, especially with his kids. But Russell was dead now and Paul was no longer a child.

  “You need to stop putting Jim in the middle,” she told him. “And you need to cease all your backstabbing crap as well. You want to come after me, come after me directly.”

  Surprise flared in his gaze, but it was gone in the next instance. Replaced by familiar hate. “You’re awfully certain of your ability to handle me. Especially for someone totally out of her league and about to get her ass handed to her by Alexi Kazankov.”

  “Now you’re a fan of his?”

  “I hate the man.”

  “I would think on that reasoning alone you’d be working with me rather than undermining me every chance you got.” She sucked down a breath and tried to wrestle her anger under control. “We have a chance to turn Winslow Industries around. To see your father’s vision to fruition. You, me, and Jim. Don’t you want to prove you can do that? If for nothing else than to do what he couldn’t.”

  “Nice psychology.” He studied her as if seeing her for the first time. “Pretty persuasive actually. But a little too late.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “How did you get rid of Pierson?”

  She stilled, the sudden shift in topic startling her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Bullshit. The guy was going to announce his support for me to become CEO, and now he’s gone. I know you had something to do with it. You and Kazankov.”

  “He offered me the same deal. The guy was playing us all.”

  Sweat beaded along Paul’s upper lip. “You’re lying.”

  “I’m not.”

  He looked distraught, his hazel eyes suddenly so
familiar. So like Russell’s. Her anger softened.

  “Look, Paul.” She held out her hand. “It doesn’t have to be ugly between us. For Russell’s sake, we could work together and—”

  “You have no idea what’s really going on here, do you?”

  Her hand dropped back to her side. “What are you talking about?”

  “You think you know. You think you’re finally in control. You think you can prop everybody up and be the head of the feel-good-Lily-show. But you have no idea who’s really pulling your strings.”

  “You’re not making sense.”

  Paul shook his head in mock sorrow, his smug gaze filled with twisted glee. “I almost feel sorry for you.”

  “Now I know you’re lying,” she snapped. “You don’t feel at all.”

  “You think you’re clever. But you’re not. I can’t wait to be there when you learn how fruitless this has all been.” His gaze flickered over her shoulder. “You really should have stuck to what you’re good at—parting those legs and looking pretty—but now you’ll need to be taught a valuable lesson. Pierson may be out of the picture, but I wouldn’t count me out yet.”

  Before she could dig deeper, he pivoted and scurried away.

  All she felt was tired.

  “You okay, Armageddon?” The low, tense rasp ghosted across her skin and straight to her clit.

  Nope, not tired anymore.

  No wonder Paul had hightailed it away. He’d seen who was coming.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Bracing herself, Lily swiveled toward her newest challenge—and realized she’d never be prepared enough. Up close, dressed in a dark blue suit that highlighted his mesmerizing eyes and accented every glorious inch of him, Alexi Kazankov was even more beautiful, more overwhelming, more irresistible than she remembered.

  And she remembered everything.

  Heart beating fast, it took her a moment to find her voice. “Just another work day,” she managed at last, her voice far too husky. “No different than any other.”

 

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