Billionaire's Vacation: A Standalone Novel (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (Billionaires - Book #13)

by Claire Adams

  I kept her company as she looked through the racks, looking a little, too – at least that much was free. She pulled a coral-colored dress off a rack and held it against herself to see how long it would be.

  "What do you think?" she asked me.

  "A little short," I offered. On a shorter girl it wouldn't have been, but on her, it would border on salacious. She had the legs for it, though. She sighed and put it back on the rack. I remembered her saying she had wanted something specific, but it seemed to me that we were just browsing at this point. I wasn't complaining, just a little suspicious. She had taught me already that she couldn't be trusted when it came to her brother.

  "What about this?" she asked, holding out a red one. It had a keyhole cut out in the chest and one similar in the back. It looked about knee length and the skirt had some movement to it.

  "Same problem as the last."

  "What about on you?" she said, holding it up against me.

  "I told you I wasn't getting anything."

  "Just try it on," she said. "That's free."

  I didn't want to be grouchy, so I relented. I’d try it on if that meant she would leave me alone about getting a new dress. She waited outside the changing room stall for me as I slipped into it. It was my size, which didn't matter since I wasn't getting it anyway, but I looked at myself in the mirror wearing it. The skirt skimmed over my hips and hit me two or three inches above the knee. I could see my bra from the rear and front cutout details but I could always go without. I did a slow spin, checking myself out.

  I looked kind of hot.

  "Can I see?" Tiff asked, poking her head into the stall. Her jaw dropped. "You have to get it."

  "How much does it cost?" I asked warily. My resolve to not get anything at all had shaken a little bit. She checked the price attached to the label for me.

  "It's an investment," she said instead of giving me a number. I pulled it off, checking myself. Sixty eight dollars. It could have been worse. but that wasn't good.

  "Seventy dollars for a dress?" I said to her like she was the one who had priced it.

  "It's for a special occasion."

  "Not that special."

  "You have to get it. Just take it home and see how you feel tomorrow. Keep the tags on and if you regret getting it, return it," she said simply. I got dressed, putting the dress back on the hanger. I didn't want to tell her that I liked her idea. The dress was calling to me, and her plan would work great if I stayed within the return window. She waited for me to come out of the dressing room.

  "So?" she said expectantly.

  "I'll get it," I said grudgingly, like it was really hurting me that much to buy myself a beautiful dress. From the feel of the fabric and its construction, it seemed worth the almost $70 price tag, but we'd see whether I ended up here tomorrow giving it back. Tiff did a joyful little jump and cheer like I was getting it for her. It was nice that it made her happy; she just wanted me to have fun. I didn't know what that meant and a lot of the time didn't care to unwind. I knew she was looking out for me in her own way.

  "What now?" I asked, letting her joy lift my spirits.

  "Now? Shoes."

  It was just getting dark by the time I got back home. I let myself in and dumped my purse in my room with the shopping bags. I never splurged like this on clothes. I had ended up getting a pair of heels under Tiffany's coercion to go with the dress I had gotten. After getting the dress though, she didn't really have to convince me that hard to get them. I picked up the first bag and pulled the dress out again. It had been pretty in the store and fit like a dream. I looked at it now, waiting for it to feel frivolous or for something in me to rebel against it.

  The soft, high-quality material felt great under my fingers and made me feel amazing when I had it on. I had gotten it for a date, but if I wanted, it would work great for any semi-formal function that had to attend. Dressed up or down, I could even wear it to drinks or a casual meeting.

  I stood in front of my mirror and held it against myself, smiling at my reflection. He'll love it, I thought. Woah, where had that come from?

  It didn't matter what he thought. Not really, but now I was sort of looking at the dress and wondering what his reaction would be when he saw it. It hit me right a couple inches above the knee, and I coyly pulled it higher up my body to raise the hem a little. I started thinking about what underwear I had to wear with it since the cut-out would show my bra, whether I really wanted to wear the heels that I had gotten to wear with it or use a pair I already owned.

  I started thinking makeup and hair, worrying suddenly what he would think when he saw the whole thing altogether. I was nervous. I had been on dates since the breakup, I had even gone out with Roman, thinking it would be another guy, but I hadn't gotten butterflies thinking about what a guy would think about my outfit like this before.

  It wasn't a big deal, I had been on dates with Roman before, but something about the newness despite the fact that we knew each other better than anyone else made me giddy. I felt like I was going on a first date with the boy I had been crushing on for months. It felt innocent and exciting. I liked it.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Roman

  We were going out for dinner, and I was picking her up. There was no way she could act like it wasn't a date now. Friends my ass. We were friends, I considered her my best friend but I wasn't stopping there with her. We were going the whole way. I wanted it all.

  Tonight was the night. We'd be alone together, and she'd feel like nothing changed, like we could just go back. We hadn't changed enough to not want each other anymore, to not be compatible anymore. It didn't matter what had happened over the year that had passed – what we felt was still the same and if it was, then we'd figure the rest of the shit out.

  I buttoned my shirt up and tucked it in, heading for the door. I felt good. I thought I'd be nervous, but I was just excited. Any time I spent with Veronica was time I enjoyed, but I had a good feeling about tonight. She had been open about seeing me again, that meant maybe that old magic would kick in and she'd just go with the flow, let go and let me remind her what it had been like with us, why we had to get it back.

  I got into my car, heading to her place. This was just one of many to come. I had my fingers crossed. Knowing it wouldn't hurt, I stopped by the grocery store and picked up some white roses. If I had to woo her all over again, I would do it.

  It was a little early when I knocked at her door, but she answered it almost immediately. She was in a long, silky nightgown. Her hair was straight which had always thrown me off a little when she did it. It was curly naturally, long gold and honey strands, soft as silk.

  "You're early," she said.

  "Should I leave and come back?" I asked, smiling. She returned it.

  "No. I just need to put my dress on. Do you mind waiting?" she asked.

  "Good things take time, I get it. These are for you," I said, handing her the flowers. She took the bouquet, her cheeks blushing pink.

  "Strong start," she said. "Keep it up, flattery will get you everywhere." She let me walk into her apartment. It was small and clean. On one side was the dining area with a table that looked family sized and on the other was her living room. There was a patterned rug under the coffee table, a couch, a TV, bookshelf, and some end tables. She had disappeared into what I guessed was the kitchen before coming back out with a vase full of water for the flowers.

  "I take second chances seriously," I said.

  "Good. They only come around once," she said. I closed the couple of feet between us where she was near the dining table putting down the vase.

  "You look beautiful," I said because she was.

  "I'm not even dressed yet."

  "Doesn't change the fact that it's true." It was still a little surreal, being with her again. Standing there with her, her green eyes looking up at me, I couldn't help reaching a hand out and tucking her hair back behind her ear. It had been way too long since I had touched her.

  "T
hank you," she said quietly. The tension wasn't uncomfortable, but it was building. "Give me five minutes, I'll be right out."

  I watched her walk away into her bedroom. Thinking of her behind that door taking her nightgown off made my cock stir. The way she looked topless, in lingerie, in nothing… I remembered every little bit of her. It was seared in my memory, and it was right behind that door. I had to calm down – the wrong move now would shoot me in the foot. I wasn't fucking up this close to getting her back.

  I was looking at the pile of books on her dining table when she came out of her bedroom. Her dress was fire-engine red. It cut off a couple inches above her knees and didn't have any sleeves. A section on the chest was cut out, giving a perfect view of her cleavage.

  "Wow," I said, looking at her.

  "You like it?" she asked hopefully. Fuck, how long had it been since I kissed her? I didn't need my dick ruining this for me.

  "You look great. Ready?"

  She grabbed her purse, and we headed out. That little bit of awkwardness that was between us the last time we were alone together on the blind date was gone. Sitting there in my car, there was nothing between us, like we hadn't missed a beat since last year.

  I knew better than to think that, though. I wasn't treating this like it was a sure thing because it was not. I was going to do everything in my power to make sure this worked. That was why dinner tonight was at a steakhouse I knew for a fact she liked because we had been there together before.

  I wanted to hold her hand, but that might have been pushing my luck. It was enough that anyone who looked at us would know that we were together. I did let my hand ghost over her lower back as we moved through the restaurant, though, getting to our table.

  "I know what you're getting," I said, looking at Ron over the menu when we were sitting.

  "What?" she challenged.

  "Chicken Caesar if you're still trying to impress me and you're nervous. Porterhouse medium-well which you won't be able to finish and give to me if you feel like getting your usual," I said. Ron was the only other person I knew who liked a higher cook on her meat than medium. The blood just grossed me out.

  "You got cocky since sophomore year," she said. I smirked; I was right.

  "Naw, babe. You're just predictable," I said. She made a face, making me laugh.

  "I'm getting the tuna," she said in a mock-offended voice.

  "And a side of fries to split," I said finishing her order. "Some things never change."

  "You're not the same," she said.

  "What's different about me?"

  "You're older."

  "We're the same age."

  "I don't mean like that," she said. She paused as a server took our orders; she asked for a side of fries for the table, just like I knew she would. "I mean, more experienced. Mature."

  "You're older, too," I said.

  "We're the same age, but you do not, under any circumstance, tell a woman she's old," she told me teasingly.

  "You have your own place, you're doing great in school, and you have your shit together," I said, leaving out the part about the guy she was supposed to be seeing. It wasn't serious if she was here with me, and I didn't care about him, anyway. I was trying to get my girl back. I didn't owe him shit.

  "I'm glad it looks that way," she said. "I'm just trying to graduate with a degree that I can use one day."

  "You're more than halfway there. You'll have your own practice in no time," I told her. She smiled. We had talked about what we wanted to do when we “grew up.” Mine had always been football, not really a lot of Plan B planning in case that one fell through because it wasn't going to. She had toyed with the idea of being a shrink, eventually opening her own practice.

  "I'm not in a hurry," she said.

  "No?" I asked. She was in a hurry to get out of school, but not to become a professional psychologist. She wanted to travel for a while before settling. I had known that already, but the cross-country road trip she wanted to do was new. I was intrigued; more than that, I wanted to be the one who went with her.

  When our food showed up, I was almost pissed that our conversation would slow down. It didn't even matter what we were talking about, I just wanted to keep doing it. All that stupid, giddy excitement you felt at the beginning of a new relationship? I was feeling it now, but it was better because I already loved the person I was talking to. We already had inside jokes, knew each other's wants and secrets. The night was going great. She was laughing and hadn't seemed nervous the entire time.

  "I don't want to go home," she said when our plates were gone. I was having my second beer, but she was still nursing the white wine she had gotten when we sat down.

  "You want to stop somewhere for drinks first?" I asked.

  "Not my own home, I meant," she said. I grinned, pretty sure she was asking me to take her to my place.

  "No? Nowhere to go tomorrow?" I asked, teasing her a little.

  "Nope. No plans."

  "That means you can sleep in."

  "If I'm tired enough. Depends on what happens after this," she said. She smirked at me from across the table.

  "I'm thinking about heading home."

  "Tiff told me you moved out recently. I'd love to see your new place. Can I?" she asked sweetly.

  I felt warm in the pit of my stomach. Everything up to this point had gone off without a hitch; her wanting to spend more time together was perfect, more than I had been expecting her to want, honestly. She was warming up fast. It was my turn now. I wanted nothing more than to spend the night with her, but it just wasn't realistic thinking I had an in.

  Thinking about her had kept me going when I was away. Her lips, her silky smooth skin, her pussy, I had beat my dick raw wishing it was her when I was gone. She was flirting with me, asking me to take her home, I was so close. I couldn't afford to fuck up.

  "If you don't want anything else, we can head home. Sure," I said. She tried to go dutch, but I didn't let her. If this was technically our first date, then I was doing it right. During the walk to the car, she slipped her arm through mine, gently holding my bicep. In the car on the way to my place, she was mostly silent. The silence wasn’t awkward, but it was loaded. I could feel it.

  I unlocked the door and let her walk in ahead of me when we got to my place.

  "Here it is," I said, flipping the lights on. I hadn't bought any more furniture than I’d had at my apartment, so it was pretty bare. If it turned out that I was staying here longer than I thought, I'd get more stuff. For now, I had a couch, recliner, coffee table, and television. I had a bed in my room and that was it.

  "Where's all your stuff?" she asked.

  "This is it." It felt fucking great having her in my space as she walked around.

  "You're a dropout. Why does this still look like a college student's house?" she said, smiling over her shoulder at me.

  "It's not much, but it's enough. What? You don't like it?" I asked. It was clean and pretty tidy, but she was a girl, and I'd seen her place. She had decor and color in her space. It wasn't really me. I didn't care to put the place together with any more than the bare essentials. I had felt fine about it till now, but if I was going to be bringing Ron here, I needed her to like it, too.

  "Did you pick those drapes yourself?" she asked, pointing to the patterned gray and white drapes I had in the windows.

  "They were on sale."

  "I don't know," she said, "I was expecting something different."

  "Different how?" I asked, coming up behind her.

  "This place feels a little cramped."

  "Cramped?"

  "Small," she said, shooting me a mischievous look over her shoulder. I reached for her hand and pulled her back into me. She hit my chest lightly and turned around, steadying herself with her hands on my shoulders.

  "My house is the only thing about me you can call small. You know that," I said, pulling her into me. She let me, wrapping her arms around my neck.

  "You're such a big guy. I just ex
pected more," she said lightly.

  "I don't have to compensate for anything," I said confidently. "Besides, I've got all the space I need."

  "Yeah?"

  "Once we hit both couches, the bed, and the shower, what's wrong with the floor?" I asked. She blushed looking down. I scooped her up into my arms, so her legs wrapped around me. She yelped, hanging onto me so she didn't fall. "Besides, I haven't even given you the grand tour yet."

  "Start with your bedroom, and we'll go from there," she said.

  We had both had a drink with dinner, nothing close to enough to get us drunk, but I was feeling something. The tension had come to a head. She had her arms around me and my hands were gripping her smooth thighs. Pressed up against me the way she was, there was no way she didn't feel my hard on. I wanted her, too. It was her fault I was all riled up.

  "Not so small now," I said, knowing she could feel me against her thigh.

  "I can almost forgive the fun-sized living room," she whispered, smirking. There was that smart mouth. I had something better she could do with it. I kissed her. Our lips came together, and I groaned; it felt so fucking good. I'd have her lipstick all over me by the time we were done, but I didn't give a fuck.

  I wrapped an arm around her waist and crushed her body into mine. A soft sigh escaped her. Her hands ran through my hair, over my back. My tongue danced with hers, tasting her after such a long time. I went back and forth about whether a year was a long time or not, but right now, it might as well have been an eternity.

  I couldn't kiss her hard enough, deep enough. Her enthusiasm just pushed me harder. I wanted another moan, another sigh. I wanted her nails running down my back. I wanted to be the reason she screamed and threw her head back.

  "Do you know how long I've been waiting to do that?" I asked when we finally parted. She ran her thumb over my lower lip, getting the lipstick that had transferred when we kissed. Her lipstick was pink; I'd be wiping that shit off a few more places once tonight was done. I felt my cock throb thinking about her lips sucking me off.