Resisting the Billionaire

by Allie Winters

  My only worry is for her business. The threat he implied toward her weighs heavy on my mind as I finally make my way to the cocktail hour, shimmering strands of lights hung about the ballroom creating a romantic, cozy atmosphere, despite the hundreds of people milling about. Sparkling silver vases on each guest table burst with flowers in every shade of blue, giving the space a frosty edge I didn’t realize would so accurately reflect Serena’s Ice Queen reputation.

  Sidelong glances and hushed conversations greet me as I search for Mackenzie through the crowd, but I pause as I spot the bride and groom in the center of the room, well wishers greeting them. Serena’s face still holds a blissful radiance, the normal sadness lurking behind her eyes gone. I hope she finds what she’s looking for in this marriage.

  Archer’s gaze meets mine from across the way, intense and a bit frightening as it narrows on me for just a moment before he returns his attention to the couple in front of him.

  “Sorry,” I whisper, knowing such a small word doesn’t begin to cover it, that he can’t even hear me, but it’s all I have to offer right now.

  “Holy shit.” A hand grabs me and I’m halfway to defending myself before I realize it’s Connor, eyes wide with disbelief. “What just happened?”

  “I don’t know,” I admit, still half in shock about the turn of events I set in motion. Archer taking my place, Mackenzie confessing her love, the shit storm that’s about to go down with Dad.

  “Are you prepared for the fallout?”

  I straighten my suit jacket. “Yeah. I am.”

  And it’s true. Whatever happens, I can take it. As long as I have Mackenzie. I was serious when I told her she was the one thing that makes this all bearable.

  “A word, Gabriel,” an icy voice says from behind me, sending a chill down my back.

  Connor swallows heavily as he glances over my shoulder, but I already know who’s there.

  “Sure, Dad.”

  I follow in his wake, his body bristling with repressed rage. Not that anyone else can tell, but I have extensive experience with his emotional states. He heads into the hallway and pulls me into a random room, a small conference table and executive chairs in the center.

  “What the fuck are you trying to pull?” he yells as soon as the door shuts behind me.

  I stick my hands in my pockets, leaning against the wall. Nothing I say will make a difference, so what’s the point?

  “Answer me when I’m talking to you.”

  I shrug. “I didn’t want to live a lie.” It would have ended in divorce anyway.

  “If your brother hadn’t stepped in, Montague would have killed the buyout.”

  Is that all he seriously cares about? “You’d have found a way.”

  “I did have a way. It was called my son doing one thing to help out this family. But you couldn’t even manage that.” His eyes glitter with malice. “You’re done.”

  I stand taller, meeting his eye. “I know.”

  His gaze narrows. “I mean it this time. Your credit cards are cut off effective immediately. And I want you out of your apartment tonight.”

  “Okay.” I nod, accepting responsibility for my actions.

  Confusion flitters across his face briefly. “And you’re not staying with your brothers. I’ve told them the deal.”

  “I know. I’ll find my own way.” And for the first time, I truly believe it. I’m free, a lightness I wasn’t expecting permeating through me.

  “I’m being serious, Gabriel. Don’t come crawling back. You have to accept the consequences for not holding up your end of the deal. For embarrassing this family yet again.”

  “I understand.” I don’t think I’ve been embarrassing, so much as not up to his ridiculous standards, but I won’t lose sleep over it any more.

  I turn around, but he stops me at the door. “Where will you go?”

  I glance back over my shoulder at him. “You don’t care. You never did. Especially not since Mom died.”

  “Don’t bring your mother into this,” he spits viciously, dander up once more.

  “Bye, Dad.” I honestly don’t know if I’ll see him again.

  And I really couldn’t give a fuck.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  Mackenzie

  I hold my phone up to my ear, the automated voice once again telling me the number you have dialed has been disconnected.

  I stuff it back into my purse, my hand finding its way to rest over my stomach, keeping the nausea contained.

  Where the hell is he? The last I saw Gabriel was leaving that storage closet. And after that - nothing. He’d disappeared from the wedding.

  Not that I blame him. He did jilt the bride after all.

  The guests had plenty to speculate, though.

  It’d been a media stunt planned from the beginning.

  The whole to-do was to boost Bishop Industries’ stock.

  How could Gabriel’s own brother go behind his back like that?

  How romantic that Archer confessed his love.

  But what no one was saying was where Gabriel ran off to. I’m assuming he spoke with his dad at some point. I’m also assuming Mr. Bishop cut him off like he promised - including his phone.

  That’s the reasonable explanation for why I can’t get in touch with him. But despite that, visions of Gabriel gagged and stuffed in a car trunk still run through my head. Some mob boss sinking him to the bottom of the Hudson, a hit man taking care of him. Who knows what his dad’s capable of?

  It wasn’t an option to leave the wedding early. This was the most important job of my career. And there was no way I was asking Mr. Bishop where his son was, especially not with that cold fire burning in his eyes during the whole reception. Serena wouldn’t have known, and I didn’t know his brothers well enough to ask…

  I unlock my building door, my feet killing me in these heels as I trudge up the seven flights, but all soreness leaves my body as I spy the man camped out in front of my door, two large suitcases beside him.

  My hand reaches up to my mouth to contain a sob as I rush forward, and he scrambles to his feet to catch me in time.

  “I didn’t know what happened to you,” I choke out, taking in my first deep breath in hours, the cotton fibers of his dress shirt soft against my cheek.

  He runs warm hands over my back, soothing me until the tightness in my shoulders melts away.

  “I’m so sorry,” he murmurs. “Everyone was staring at me and Dad said I needed to be out of my apartment tonight, so I figured I might as well leave. Then thirty minutes into packing at home, two of his goons show up and kick me out. He basically repossessed everything. Including my phone.”

  Wow. Harold Bishop’s more hardcore than I realized.

  He motions to the suitcases next to him. “I’m lucky I got these two downstairs and out of sight before the muscle arrived.”

  I pull myself out of his arms to briefly study him. Deep grooves bracket his mouth, face paler than usual. As much as I know he wanted this, he’s still feeling the effects of such drastic change.

  “Come inside.” I open the door and lead him to the couch, stripping off his tuxedo jacket and settling in behind him to massage his shoulders.

  He lets out a groan, leaning forward to give me better access. “I should be doing this for you. You’re the one who actually worked all day. I just made a jackass of myself in front of everyone.”

  I focus on kneading the muscles of his upper back, releasing the knots. “I overheard a few conversations tonight with ladies convinced you were the wronged one. That your brother and fiancee had been going behind your back this whole time.”

  He sighs heavily, dropping his head down. “I’ll have to set the record straight tomorrow. I don’t want anyone thinking they’re at fault.”

  “That’s very noble of you.”

  “Yeah, right,” he scoffs. “I’m the one that got us all in this mess.”

  “Hey.” I scoot out from behind him to kneel next to him on the couch. “I�
�m right there with you, okay?”

  He nods, gaze dropping to my lips briefly before looking away, his uncharacteristic silence setting my heart to pound. Is he having second thoughts?

  “Nothing is coming between us again.”

  I glance up at his low words, his gaze fierce on me. Was my face that easy to read?

  “Just because I don’t know yet what the hell I’m doing with Dad, with Archer, with my… life,” he chuckles, “I do know one thing.” He reaches out, cupping my jaw tenderly. “I have you. And that’s all I need. I can figure out the rest. I’ll find a way to take care of you.”

  “No, you don’t have to-”

  “I do.” He finally smiles, his heart shining in his eyes. “Because you’re mine. Just like I’m yours. And I’m never letting you go again.”

  He brings me in close, his kiss full of heat. Promise. Devotion.

  I’ve never in my life felt a kiss like this. This sense of worship. This passion.

  This love.

  He lays me down on the couch, covering me with that big body, his weight satisfying. Necessary.

  I brush my hands through his hair, over his neck, his back, anywhere I can reach, his kiss growing more insistent the more I touch him, the two of us working ourselves up until he brings his lower half fully against me, dick hard behind his fly.

  He hisses in a breath at first contact, and I widen my legs to accommodate him, my dress riding up past my hips. It’s probably wrinkled all to hell by now, but it doesn’t matter anymore. No one else is seeing me tonight. Only Gabriel.

  He grinds into me, a warmth low in my belly spreading, anticipation rampant. My bed’s not even five feet away, but it’s too far a distance at this point to cross, this need for him overwhelming.

  I pant heavily as he trails his lips down the length of my neck, my stomach jumping in delight as he brings a hand between us to delve into my panties, wet with my arousal. He enters a finger carefully, then two, pumping in and out, a moan escaping me at the feel of him inside me.

  “I want you.” I clutch at his back, trying not to claw at the expensive material of his shirt, but it seems so long since we’ve done this. So long since I was close to him, both in spirit and body.

  “Patience,” he whispers as he travels further down me, hiking my dress up all the way and pulling my panties aside to kiss me right where I need him most. “I’ve missed this.”

  At the first touch of his mouth on me, I make an unintelligible noise, one hand gripping his hair, the other grabbing onto a couch cushion. Was it this good last time? I can’t remember. Can’t seem to recall anything other than the slow circles of his tongue, teasing me the way I like. How his hands rest on my inner thighs, keeping me spread open. How he’s building me up, his fingers inside me again as he licks my clit, the sensations shocking in their intensity.

  “So good, so good,” is all I’m able to manage on repeat, my heels arching off the couch, back bowing so he’ll hit that spot right… there.

  I buck, pulling at his hair, holding him in place as my climax overtakes me, breaths harsh in the quiet of my apartment.

  He continues his ministrations until I’m finished, lifting himself up easily to unbutton his shirt, revealing that hard physique I’ve only laid eyes on once before. Those deliciously thick biceps, broad shoulders, and a flat stomach with a dark trail of hair leading all the way down. I drop back against the cushions to watch him, my own private show as his pants and boxers come off next, dick jutting out proudly to greet me.

  “Please tell me you have a condom,” I murmur, knowing I have nothing here. I haven’t even brought a guy back to this place.

  “The first thing I packed,” he replies, pulling one out of his suitcase and rolling it on with steady hands.

  He bends down to kiss me roughly, still worked up without any release on his end, his desire stoking the fires within me until I’m frantic again, kissing him with abandon. He takes my hands and pulls me up to stand, my knees wobbly after that intense orgasm, and unzips my dress, my belly dipping low in expectation, his eyes hot on me with each inch of skin he uncovers.

  “It was too dark to fully see you at my place,” he whispers, unhooking my bra to reveal me, his gaze like a caress as it travels over my nude figure. “Let me look my fill this time.”

  He kneels down to take my panties off next, his breath hot directly over my core, and stands again, stepping away to watch me.

  Not used to this level of scrutiny, my first instinct is to cover myself. But the way he’s looking at me is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. There’s appreciation. Lust. Anticipation. And shining through it all is so much love, I can hardly stand it.

  “You’re beautiful,” he murmurs, eyes piercing me straight through to my soul.

  My breath catches, realizing he’s referring to my fantasy, the one from that old movie I still don’t know the name of.

  “Breathtaking. Gorgeous.” He stalks toward me, a predator on the hunt.

  But I’ve never been one to sit around and wait to be prey.

  I touch my fingertips to his chest as he gets closer, urging him backward until he settles heavily on the couch. I straddle his lap, his eyes glowing with approval as I take his length in hand and guide him into me.

  “And so fucking sexy,” he growls. “You’re my fantasy.”

  He pushes his hips up to sink further in, but I retreat, using his shoulders as leverage to lift myself.

  “Patience,” I tell him, repeating his same words from earlier.

  He grips my hips, panting lightly, waiting for me to bear down on him once more, and rewards me generously when I do.

  With my chest level with his face, he leans forward to capture a nipple in his mouth, bringing one hand up to shape my breast.

  My intention to go slow is shattered in the wake of the masterful way he licks and sucks me, his other hand on my waist guiding me into a steady rhythm.

  I gasp as he switches breasts, his cock filling me so deeply, all I know is him. This man who gives so freely, loves unconditionally. He’s my fantasy.

  My nails dig into his skin, his groan of pleasure unlocking something within me, and I ride him harder, wild now. Chasing that elusive thrill, my body is primed and ready to reach that peak.

  He sucks my nipples gently, the juxtaposition between his tender actions there and the way he thrusts his hips up from below… God, does he have any idea what he does to me? Tingles race down my spine, my back arching to press myself closer. And when he moves his fingers from my waist around to play with my clit, it’s all over from there.

  “Gabriel,” I moan, clutching tightly at his shoulders, the climax rising, rising. I glance down, his expression focused, and stroke a hand softly down his jaw until he looks up at me, bending down to capture his lips in a kiss that sends us both over the edge.

  He groans his love for me, and I swallow the sound down, kissing him deeply, wanting to preserve this moment as I tense around him, his body shuddering with pleasure.

  We’re unable to stop, even as we come down from our highs, the connection between us stronger than it’s ever been, his palms roaming my backside, my hands cupping his face as we explore each other’s mouths. There’s no worry any longer if what we’re doing is right or wrong, because he’s mine now. The same as I’m his. This time forever.

  “I love you,” I whisper, finally sitting back against his thighs, tracing my palms down the hard planes of his chest, already anticipating a thorough investigation of every muscle on him later. Especially those biceps.

  “Love you,” he grins, leaning forward one last time to kiss me. The blue of his eyes seems brighter, dancing with happiness.

  I have a feeling things are only going to get happier from here.

  “You have mail.”

  Diana pokes her head in my office, her gaze briefly straying to Gabriel’s tall form seated across from me at my desk, before walking forward and placing an envelope in front of me.

  She hasn’t said
anything about my new boyfriend being here with me every day this week, but that’s probably because she’s suddenly knee-deep in flower arrangement orders. Once Gabriel got access to the contacts in his old phone again, he’s single-mindedly brought us both a ton of new business, reaching out to everyone he knows.

  And when I say everyone, I mean everyone. I saw firsthand at that party he took me to that he knows plenty of people, but I didn’t truly understand the extent of his network. Anybody who’s anybody in New York knows Gabriel in some fashion, and with all the little favors he’s done for others over the years, plenty were happy to take him up on his suggestion of trying me out to plan their next event, and by extension, Diana’s flowers.

  I have more parties than I know what to do with, but they’re the best kind - with unlimited budgets and the freedom to go big with creativity. And with my new assistant to help me - a.k.a. Gabriel - I’m actually able to do it all.

  I stare at the letter on my desk, a shiver racing down my spine at the return address. Harold Bishop. Has he found out about us?

  “Open it,” Gabriel says after Diana shuts the door and heads back to her register. “Like you’re ripping off a bandaid.”

  I let out a breath, willing my body to relax as I do what he says, a paper fluttering out between us on the desk. “It’s just my last check.”

  I pick it up, the welcome zeros at the end easing the corner of my mind that’s still worried about my past debts, both to the bank and my parents. This money will wipe out the rest of that, putting me back in the clear. A chance to start anew.

  “What’s wrong?”

  I glance up, finding Gabriel studying me intently. “What?”

  “You’ve got this wrinkle here.” He reaches out and gently strokes the spot between my eyebrows where yes, it turns out I’m frowning. “Did he shortchange you?”

  “No, no. It’s all here. I just-”