Tomas smiled down at his love. “Happy, baby?”
“You know it.” She reached up and kissed him. “Be even happier in about, oh, ten minutes, when you’ll be naked.”
Tom laughed. “Oh, I will, will I? I’m fine with that as long as you are too …” They had reached the parking garage now and Tom pushed the elevator call button. Bay wrapped her arms around him, her lips seeking his as they waited.
“Oh, I’ll be naked,” she murmured against his mouth. “…and wet …and ready …”
Tom gave a low groan and buried his face in her neck. “I’m going to fuck you so hard, beautiful …”
It happened in a blink of an eye—the first flash and the first yell of, “What’s it like fucking the boss, Bay?” as the paparazzi surrounded them, pushing, shoving, and screaming at them.
Panicked, Bay cried out in distress as Tom, cursing, wrenched the doors of the elevator open and shoved her inside.
“Fuck off!” He gestured at the press, incensed. The doors shut, blocking out the savage intrusion. Tom pressed the sixth-floor button—three floors above where their car was parked. Tom whirled around and took a trembling Bay into his arms. “You okay?”
She nodded, clinging to him. “Yes …Jesus. Who the hell knew we were here?”
Tom let out a long breath. “Someone at the restaurant could have tipped them off.”
“Why wouldn’t they approach us there then?”
Tom held out his hands. “I don’t know. Wait.” As they got to the fifth floor, he pressed the button for three. “Hopefully they’ll have been fooled by that.”
When they got out tentatively on the third floor of the parking lot. They were alone. Within seconds, Tom was speeding out onto the street.
Bay sat back and sighed with relief. “That was a rush, and not a good one.”
He looked over at her sympathetically. “I hate to tell you this, but that is the kind of thing you can expect when you and the band are taking over the world.”
“I know but still—yeuch.”
Tom laughed, but took her hand. “Should I hire some security for the house?”
Bay looked alarmed. “God, no. I don’t want to live in a fortress. It’s just paps. They’ll get bored when they realize that all we do in the evenings is crochet and give each other foot rubs.”
Tom snorted. “Is that code for nailing each other to the floor?”
“Yes, it is.”
“Then, word, sister.”
Bay laughed softly. “God, I love you, Tomas Meir. Who knew billionaires could be so goofy?”
He made a grotesque face at her, making her shriek with laughter.
“Even with that face, I’d still do you,” she said and giggled as he tickled her. A few minutes later, they were back home and inside, pulling each other’s clothes off as they kissed their way to the bedroom.
Emily looked at the clock. Just after eight p.m. She and Dash had been working, talking, and laughing in between checking on Henry. The boy seemed the same, still hot to the touch, and now Emily was considering calling the doctor. She got up from the kitchen table.
“I’ll just take Henry’s temp again and if it’s still up, I’d better—“
“Look who’s up,” Dash interrupted and she turned to see her nephew, rumpled and flushed, standing in the doorway and looking with uncertain eyes at her guest. Dash grinned at him.
“Hey, sport. I’m Dash. I’m your Auntie’s friend. How’re you feeling?”
Henry looked at Emily and she nodded encouragingly.
“I’m thirsty,” he mumbled, but gave Dash a little smile. Emily grabbed some juice from the fridge, then sat Henry on her lap as he drank it. She felt his forehead again and grimaced.
“You’re still hot, little buddy. Your belly still hurt?”
Henry nodded, but his eyes were riveted on Dash’s t-shirt. Dash pulled it out so he could see the artwork properly. “You like Thor?”
Henry nodded and mumbled something shyly to Emily, who smiled. “He says he does, but the Hulk is his favorite.”
Dash leaned forward. “When I first met your Auntie, I got her so mad that I thought she was going to hulk out on me.”
Henry laughed and Emily grinned. “Don’t believe a word he says, Henry.”
Henry stayed on Emily’s lap until he fell asleep again, listening to the adults talking softly. Emily carried him back to bed and settled him while Dash cleared up their paperwork and washed their cups.
She smiled gratefully at him. “Should I order take out. Are you hungry?”
“Good thinking.”
They ordered Chinese food and ate it on their laps, chatting easily. They’d worked out a schedule of marketing The 9th & Pine that pleased them both. Emily was surprised at how much Dash was prepared to compromise, and when he couldn’t, he didn’t bully or harangue, but make his case in such a way that she could see his position clearly.
And, god, he was such a goofball, ribbing her gently and making fun of himself. He told her about Sam; she told him about her family and Paige, but mostly about Henry.
Before she knew it, it was past eleven p.m. Dash glanced at his watch. “I’d better stop monopolizing you,” he said regretfully.
“Are you going back to Seattle tonight?” She was a little bemused and more than a little sad that their evening was over.
Dash shook his head. “I’ll grab a hotel room.” He got up to go.
“Wait …if you don’t mind the couch, you’re welcome to stay.” What? What was coming out of her mouth? Emily didn’t know and in that second, she didn’t care. She just didn’t want him to leave. Dash looked pleased.
“Really? In that case, I’d be glad to.”
She nodded and couldn’t stop the smile on her face from spreading wide. “Good …I’ll get you a blanket.”
When she came back with the blanket, he had stripped down to his t-shirt and shorts. Trying not to look at his –legs—or his underwear—she gave him a spare toothbrush. “You know where the bathroom is. Help yourself to anything you need.”
He took the items she was offering. His fingers brushed hers and their eyes locked for a second. Emily looked away first. “Goodnight, then.”
In bed, her body felt shivery with tension and longing. The thought of him being a room away, half dressed, sleepy, his dark eyelashes on his cheeks as he slept …god. She allowed herself a fantasy of going out there, dropping her robe, and climbing on top of his naked body, neither of them speaking or making a noise as they fucked—just dissolving into each other, skin-on-skin, lip to lip.
Emily turned over and sighed. Stop it, she told herself firmly. You have Henry to consider. And Isaiah. God, Isaiah. She needed to reach out to him and tell him it was over, whatever it was between them. She couldn’t feel this way about someone else and string a good man like Isaiah along—it just wasn’t fair.
She finally fell asleep at just after midnight, but woke a couple of hours later, thirsty. Chinese food always did that to her. She got up, wrapping her robe around her, and padded to the kitchen. As she moved through the living room, Dash turned over on the couch and she saw he was awake.
“Hi,” she whispered. “I didn’t wake you, did I?”
“Can’t sleep.”
“Are you uncomfortable?”
“No.” He smiled and she felt her sex pulse with desire.
“Um, I’m just getting some water.”
She went into the kitchen, her heart thudding against her chest. She grabbed a glass, filled it, and downed it, wanting to cool the fire that raged inside her. She felt him behind her, then his hand slid around her waist, gently turning her around to face him. She gazed up at him in the gloom of the night thought she’d never seen anything quite as beautiful. Dash smiled, soft and tender, and tilted her chin up. His lips met hers and she was lost. Her entire body trembled as they kissed. She felt the sensation of his mouth on hers in every nerve ending. He parted her robe and cupped her breast, then his mouth was on her nipple, s
ucking and tasting.
Emily moaned softly, pressing her body against him and feeling the hot length of his cock, ramrod hard against her. Her hands slid inside his underwear to stroke him.
“Emily …” He moaned and picked her up, sitting her on the counter-top, pulling her robe from her shoulders, and kissing from her throat down to her belly, then pushing her legs apart. When his tongue found her clit, Emily gasped, clutching the edge of the counter and feeling like she was losing her mind.
Dash swept her into his arms and carried her to her bedroom, covering her body with his and peeling his t-shirt over his head as she pushed his shorts down, freeing his incredible cock.
“I want to be inside you,” he murmured, and she nodded, breathless, reaching out and fumbling in her nightstand drawer for a condom. Dash grinned and took it from her, sitting on his haunches as he slid the rubber over his cock. Then he was kissing her, entering her, and filling her. Emily almost screamed with delight as he thrust deep inside her, ramming his hips against hers, and kissing her deeply as they moved together.
“Dash …” She moaned as he sank into her to the root, her body arching up to his, wanting his skin on hers.
In a second everything changed. A heartrending, bloodthirsty scream of absolute pain stopped them—a cry of anguish from the next room.
“Henry,” Emily said breathlessly and they disconnected in a hurry. Emily grabbed her robe and skittered out of the room, Dash behind her, pulling his shorts on.
Henry was writhing on the bed, crying, heaving, and wracking with desiccating sobs of pain. Emily gathered him up, but Henry kicked and fought against her, he was so delirious.
“Henry, sweetheart. Henry!”
“I’m calling 911,” Dash said, his eye wide with alarm. Emily calmed Henry down and took his temperature. She moaned when she saw it.
“One hundred four …god …”
“Fuck the ambulance,” Dash said and pushed her aside to pull Henry into his arms. “Go grab some clothes. I’ll drive you myself.”
In the car, Emily tried in vain to soothe Henry, talking to him and wiping his burning forehead with a towel. Dash sped through the city toward the nearest E.R.
As they carried Henry into the emergency room, a doctor came to greet them, and in a flash, Henry was on a gurney having his vitals taken. Emily didn’t realize she was shaking violently until Dash clamped his arms around her and whispered urgently into her ear. “Sweetheart, breathe. Breathe. They’re going to look after him. He’s going to be okay.”
Emily leaned against him, grateful, but too terrified for Henry to feel anything but fear. The doctor came out to see them. He was a young Indian doctor with a British accent and a kind face.
“It looks like appendicitis, which is scary to witness and bloody agony for the patient, but very routine for us. We’re taking him into surgery now …” He looked at their disheveled state and grinned slightly. “We have a private room that you two could, um, wait in if you like.”
Dash kept his arm around her as they waited, but there was nothing but friendship in the gesture. He seemed as worried about Henry as she did. Emily closed her eyes and leaned against him, feeling his lips against her temple.
“He’ll be okay, right?”
The arm around her tightened. “You bet your ass he will be. He’ll have the very best care there is. Don’t worry about that.”
Emily felt the tears come, then, from the kindness in his voice and her sheer exhaustion. He held her as she wept, her tears soaking his t-shirt. Eventually, her sobs turned to hiccups and she wiped her face on her sleeve. She gave him a watery smile.
“She wants him back. Paige—Henry’s Mom. She wants him back.”
Understanding registered in his eyes. “Oh, Em …I’m so sorry.”
Suddenly she wanted to tell him everything. As she explained the situation, she could see the anger and disgust in his eyes.
“Jeez,” he said when she was finished. “What a piece of work. Sorry,” he added apologetically. She shrugged.
“No offense taken. She is a piece of work.”
“What does Henry think?”
“He won’t admit it, but I think he’s curious about her, about the woman he remembers as his Mom but who he doesn’t know.” Emily sighed. “But he’s terrified she’ll make him live with her—that he’ll have to leave his school, his friends, and me. He’s at such a delicate age, Dash. I’m scared that any big change will scar him. Oh shit …” She gasped. “I should call Paige …I never thought …”
“Why don’t you let me handle that?”
She touched his face and smiled. “You are the sweetest man, but no, thank you. I have to do it.”
Dash left the room to give Emily privacy while she called her sister. He went to the water fountain and splashed some on his face, wondering how Henry was. Poor kid. He’d had appendicitis when he was eleven and knew the searing agony of it.
Dash walked to an open window and looked out at the dawn breaking over the city. The last twenty-four hours—damn. His life had changed. It was that simple. It wasn’t just that he and Emily had finally had sex—glorious even if it had been interrupted—but that she’d let him into her world and her little family. She had trusted him. It was a new feeling for Dash Hamilton.
Dash Hamilton gave the impression he was a confident, almost arrogant man, but the truth was …he was lonely. With his adored older brother Sam being gone, he had looked to Tom, Otis, and Roman for friendship. Most of his own college friends had married or moved away from Manhattan. Roman, the oldest of the friends, was a solitary figure, quiet and reserved; Otis could be a little too snobby sometimes. It was Tom who Dash had bonded with most of all. Since Tom had fallen in love with Bay, however, he hadn’t been around as much. But Dash couldn’t blame anyone but himself for his isolation. He never got too involved with women, fearing the attachment and the loss of losing someone he loved again. But Emily Moore had gotten under his skin from the first day in her office and now …
“Dash?”
He turned to see her smiling at him. Her eyes were tired and sad, but she looked beautiful in the glow of the early morning light. He went to her, took her in his arms, and brushed his lips against hers.
“Is your sister on her way?”
Emily nodded, her head against his chest. “She’ll be here in an hour. Look, Henry’s going to be in surgery for a while. Should we go to the cafeteria and get some coffee—I mean, you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to.” She looked at him with uncertainty.
“Hush your mouth.” He smiled. “Lead me to your feasting hall.”
After both of their cellphones had consistently buzzed from very early that morning, Tom had grabbed them and shoved them under the bed. He was too preoccupied fucking his beautiful girlfriend to answer any damn phone, he had told Bay, who smiled down at him as she straddled him. Tom slid his hands around her waist as she rode him, his cock ramrod hard inside her velvety sex. Her skin had a light covering of dewy sweat as they made love and he traced a pattern across her belly with his fingers, watching her beautiful breasts tremble with her movements.
“Christ, you’re beautiful,” he said and was rewarded by her thighs tightening around his hips and her vaginal muscles gripping his cock. Her dark hair tumbled over her shoulders, her face flushed a lovely pink. He urged her to thrust harder, and as she began to moan softly, he could feel the explosion building inside of him. His thumbs stroked a rhythmic pattern over her ruby red nipples, feeling them harden beneath his touch. Bay threw her head back as she came, Tom’s hips jerking as he came with hot spurts inside her. His fingers dug into the soft flesh of her hips, keeping her locked onto him as his seed pumped deep into her.
Finally, she rolled from him and collapsed beside him, catching her breath and kissing him softly.
“Oh, if we could just do that all day …”
Tom laughed, biting gently down on her slender shoulder. “I’m getting old. You’d exhaust me. But I would en
joy it, I suppose,” he added as an afterthought and Bay punched him lightly.
A phone rang in the house and Bay looked surprised. “What the hell?”
“I’d forgotten I even had that installed,” Tom said mildly, not moving, “Let the answering machine get it.”
Bay kissed his pec. “When have you got to get to work?”
Tom grinned. “Unlike your lotus-eating, creative types, I have meetings from nine so I’m out of action all day.”
Bat grimaced. “Ugh. I’ll just have to go to the studio.” She sighed dramatically. “When will this toil ever end?” She grinned at a laughing Tom as she slipped from the bed, avoiding his reach as he grabbed at her.
“Why don’t you grab a shower. I’ll put some coffee on.”
“Yes, boss.”
“Funny girl.”
In the kitchen, Tom filled the coffee maker while he listened to the voicemail message. Halfway through, he stopped.
Tom, Bay, it’s Roman. Look there’s no easy way to say this, but you’re all over the news and a lot of it isn’t ...isn’t …good. Look, they’re making a big deal of the fact that you’re sleeping together and that The 9th & Pine are suddenly a huge deal. You can guess the rest. Call me when you get this.
Tom cursed loudly.
“So, I’m a whore, is that it?”
He hadn’t seen Bay standing in the doorway of the kitchen, wrapped in his robe. She looked as if she might cry and he went to her immediately.
“No one thinks that. This is the kind of horseshit the tabloids come up with. They think it will encourage us to give them the real story—do exclusives to set the record straight. It won’t work.”
She nodded and he could see she wasn’t reassured, but he really didn’t know what else to tell her.
“Is it just online or—“ She picked up the remote control to the flat screen T.V. on the wall and flicked it on.
“So what do we think? Is “Fire for You” about the gorgeous Tomas Meir?” The jabbering idiot on the Entertainment channel was clearly enjoying herself, talking to her perma-tanned co-presenter.
His Beautiful Revenge: A Bad Boy Billionaire Romance Page 74
