The Billionaire Shifter's Second Chance (Billionaire Shifters Club Book 3)

by Diana Seere

  “I’ve got you,” he said.

  And he did. His left hand hooked around her waist, somehow holding her firmly in place.

  “Open for me,” he said. “My love. I’ve got you.”

  She let herself relax, sink into him, trust him to keep her from falling. As warm water massaged her clit, he thrust into her, then again, again and again, calling her name and telling her she was beautiful.

  She wanted it to last forever, but it was too much to fight, a pleasure too powerful to resist, a love too great to deny. She came and came, shouting, crying, and he held her and joined her and loved her until they were both too weak to stand.

  They turned off the water, wrapped each other in thick, soft towels, and went together to the bed.

  Sheets had never felt so good.

  Edward’s long, damp legs slid between the cool, finespun cotton, the weave so tight it might as well have been silk, as Molly curled into him, her wet hair tangled, stretched in teasing tendrils across his chest. They breathed together, their patterns bumping against each other in those first few deep, cleansing breaths until they were a well-oiled machine, following a beat that took over.

  The Beat.

  Did she feel it too? He shouldn’t have any doubts, and yet they lingered, hovering with just enough hesitancy to make him worry. The minute Asher told him about Molly’s role in the shifter world and the creation of Gavin’s drug, he should have confessed all to her.

  He hadn’t.

  And he hoped she would forgive him.

  “I am sorry,” he said softly, the words carried along the pores of his skin, spreading into fingertips that caressed her shoulder.

  “Sorry for shower sex? Oh, no.” She shook her head, her wet hair tickling his nipple. “Never apologize for that.”

  He laughed in spite of himself, his next breath jagged and emotional. “I’m sorry for making you doubt me.”

  Molly sat up at his words, her neck graceful, the line of skin leading down to voluptuous breasts marked by wide, rosy nipples that tightened before his eyes.

  Eyes that should be focused on her face.

  “Hey, Mr. Cat. I’m up here.” She gave him a wide grin as her fingers pressed gently on the underside of his chin, pulling his face up. “Like the view?”

  “Always.”

  Her palm flattened against his pecs, her thumb grazing his nipple, the other hand cradling his jaw now. Eyes the color of a midsummer’s sky took him in, imploring him to give her something he didn’t quite understand but would burn down the world to grant.

  “You should have told me.”

  “Yes.”

  “And you slept with me in the cabin, knowing.”

  “God, I feel like such an ass.”

  She waited patiently. His gut tightened. So that’s how it was?

  “I am an ass.”

  She nodded.

  “And a fool.”

  Lifting her eyebrows, Molly’s cheeks turned to apples, the skin around her eyes wrinkling with amusement. Her expression said, Go on.

  “A fool in love,” he added.

  Her smile faded, the look on her face serious as she blinked, the hand on his cheek moving up and down against the grain of his beard, her head tilting as she studied him.

  “In love,” she said, so quiet he barely heard her.

  “With you,” he added, as if that weren’t clear.

  “Thank you for clarifying,” she replied, lips twitching with amusement. Sober suddenly, she blinked and looked away, her eyes unfocused, staring out the large window covered by blackout curtains. “But before we get too sappy, you should know something about me.”

  “Let me guess.” As her hand dropped and she moved her position, resting on one elbow and looking up at him, he turned, shifting onto his side.

  “Guess?”

  “You have a deep dark secret, no? It must be terrible,” he said. “You… like mayonnaise?”

  “Who doesn’t like mayo?” She laughed.

  He shuddered. “Abominable.”

  “Wrong!” Her tone was light, but eyes still troubled. Naked before him, all creamy curves and doe eyes, Molly’s casual presence in Gavin and Lilah’s guest room hit him like a ton of bricks being poured over his head.

  “You are a secret MI6 spy with a fabulous American accent and you’re here to bring me back to England on charges of treason.”

  She giggled. “I couldn’t even fake an English accent if I tried.”

  “Try.” He reached up to stroke her hair, tucking a stray strand behind her perfectly flat ear.

  “’Ello, mate! God save the Queen. Pip pip chip-cheerio!” she stammered. “Feed the birds, tuppence a bag!”

  He groaned. “You sound like an Australian with a bad head cold.”

  “See?” She punched him lightly in the breastbone. “I can’t do an accent to save my life.” Her gaze turned hot. “Your accent, on the other hand, whoo boy.” Molly began fanning herself.

  A kiss was the only proper response for that. A kiss that would wash away the bad taste of poor accents.

  “Mmm,” she said, breaking the kiss. “Trying to pass your English accent off to me by osmosis?”

  “Is that possible? We should spend the afternoon diligently applying your theory, Molly.” He kissed her thoroughly, then moved on to her neck, suckling. “How many of your body parts can I make sing with an accent? I know a few Latin words we can consider.” His mouth traveled down her arm, a kiss on her hip, then his hands curled around her waist, pressing her flat against the sheets, working toward nirvana.

  The world was a tuning fork.

  Molly’s body was perfect pitch.

  “Hey, hold on there,” she protested, though weakly, sitting up to look at him. “What about my secret?”

  “I’m on an exploratory mission. Perhaps I’ll figure it out on my own. This will require a thorough examination.” He dipped his head down between her legs and slowly spread them, his nose nuzzling her clit, tongue taking one long lick that made her bury her hands in his hair and squeeze.

  “I’m part shifter,” she announced, then groaned. “And half sister to Lilah and Jess.”

  He froze. Perhaps her thighs, pressed against his ears, had made him mishear what she said.

  Tipping his head up, he caught her eyes from across the distance of her lush body, barely able to concentrate on speaking. “Did you just say—could you repeat that?”

  Scooching her ass backward, she pulled up into a sitting position, her knees smashed against her breasts, uninhibited as her naked body curled and showed him everything, nothing.

  “I said, I’m part shifter, Edward. My blood. That’s why my blood is so important. And the scientist at Gavin’s lab discovered that Lilah, Jess, and I all have the same father.”

  The tuning fork went sharp, then flat, the world filled with cacophonous vibrations for a few seconds.

  “You’re a shifter?” His voice traveled up to an octave he hadn’t heard from his own throat since he was a lad.

  “Not, well, not technically a shifter, but I’m part shifter, I guess?” She sounded so confused.

  Join the club, he thought.

  “Part? Molly, you cannot be ‘part’ shifter. It’s like being pregnant.”

  “I’m not pregnant!” Panic filled her eyes.

  “No, no,” he soothed, though an image of her swollen, ripe-with-his-child body made his erection tighten. “I’m not saying you are. I mean that one cannot be a little bit shifter any more than one can be a little bit pregnant. It’s black or white. You’re a shifter or you’re not. There is no in-between.”

  She pointed at her clavicle and thumped twice. “I’m in-between. That’s me. Molly In-Between. Asher can start calling me Ms. In-Between.” Hysteria tinged her voice.

  Taking a deep, cleansing breath, he held it for too long, until the edges of his vision began to swim. The rush of air made a sound that centered him. “You’re saying that the researchers at Gavin’s lab found something in you
r blood that indicates you’re a shifter?”

  “Sort of. I have DNA in me that they’ve traced back centuries. It’s from my father, who I never met. Dr. Sam was telling us about it before you and your brothers arrived.”

  Dawning awareness filled his blood, the warmth both numbing and awakening. “You, Lilah, and Jess? But you’re human.”

  “Yes.”

  “A very special kind of human,” he whispered as the implications hit him. “Is this why Lilah can read the Book?”

  “The Book?” She frowned, then her eyes widened. “You mean that weird ancient thing Jess shoved at me here in the apartment? She asked me this morning if I could read the scribbles.”

  “You couldn’t?”

  “No.” She shook her head. “Am I supposed to?”

  Supposed. Edward didn’t know what anyone was supposed to do or not do anymore.

  Closing his eyes, he centered himself, then wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her wet hair. “You’re supposed to be you.”

  “Who the hell am I, Edward?” Her plaintive question seized his heart and shook it until it cried. “Until a few hours ago, I was just a single woman in the city who worked in fashion and administration for a private club. Now I’m the blood donor for a dangerous drug in a world of animal shifters I didn’t know existed, and I have two sisters suddenly!”

  “Shhhh,” he said, trying to calm her down even as his pulse raced, mind working furtively to process everything he was learning.

  “And on top of it all, you stole my O!” she wailed, the words making even less sense than any others coming out of her.

  “Your O?”

  She sniffle-laughed, hitting him lightly on his back. “When you kissed me at Derry’s art show. You stole my O.”

  “What is an O?”

  “Oh, trust me, you know damn well what an O is. At least you gave it back to me.” Her nose wiggled with amusement. “More than once.”

  Extracting himself from her, thoroughly confused, he gave her a stern look. “You really do sound like a madwoman now. Please explain what on earth you are talking about.”

  “I sound like a madwoman when I talk about orgasms but don’t sound like a madwoman when I describe being part shifter? Jesus, Eddie, this world of yours is insane.” She did a double take. “And when you frown, you look like Asher. Stop it.”

  O. Orgasms. What was she babbling about?

  “How does one steal a woman’s orgasms from her?” He tried not to frown. Were these words really coming out of his mouth?

  Her cheeks went pink. “You kissed me. And then I couldn’t orgasm.”

  He went cold. “You… tried?”

  “Of course I tried! I tried everything! I have an arsenal of electronic help in my bedside drawer, but nothing worked.”

  He gave her a look. She rolled her eyes, realizing why he was suddenly so aloof.

  “And no, I didn’t try with another guy. Sheesh.” She shoved his knee. “Men. Don’t get all jealous on me.”

  Blinking hard, he reframed the conversation. “You are saying that after I kissed you, you lost the ability to orgasm?”

  “Yes.”

  “And that is connected to your being a shifter and having a common father with Lilah and Jess… how?”

  “It’s not.”

  Women. He didn’t understand them at all.

  “I assume you… found your orgasm?”

  “You should know, mister.”

  The grin that took over his face was entirely involuntary.

  “But damn you for stealing it for six weeks! Do you know how hard it is to go that long without… you know?”

  He did.

  Oh, how he did.

  Her eyes traveled down his body, spotting his increasingly-taut erection.

  “If we’re confessing,” he said slowly, curling his legs into a cross-legged position, struggling to make eye contact. This was not going to be pleasant, but it had to be said.

  Her eyes lit up. “Oooo, what’s your secret, Mr. Mayo Hater?”

  “I’ve been celibate for the past ten years.”

  Like ripping off a Band-Aid, it was better to just get it done quickly.

  Jaw dropping, Molly made a strange choking sound as she inhaled, her hand going over her heart, face draining of color.

  “Ten—ten—you went ten YEARS?”

  One of his shoulders lifted in an understated half shrug.

  “Ten YEARS? I’m complaining about six weeks and you went… why?” Appreciative, hungry eyes took in his naked body, her gaze so strongly passionate he was close to coming on the spot. “I mean… look at you, Edward! Why?”

  Oh God. No one had told her. She had no idea about Vivien, his background with the Nagys, how destroyed he’d been, how he’d blamed himself, the shadow it had cast over everything.

  Molly let light back into his world.

  And now it was time to tell her everything.

  Chapter 23

  Molly felt a chill descend over their warm, cozy bed. Suddenly nervous about what he was going to say, she pulled a fluffy throw blanket around her shoulders and waited as patiently as she could for him to reveal something he clearly didn’t want to reveal.

  Something painful. He curled into himself, wrapping a sheet around his body and fixing his gaze on his hands resting on the mattress between their crossed legs.

  “Years ago, I was engaged,” he said flatly.

  Her stomach tightened. Everyone had a past, didn’t they? But did it have to be another woman, a woman he obviously still loved?

  She twisted the hem of the blanket. “Was she the one who broke it off?” Her voice came out sounding small, like a child.

  “She was the one who died,” he said, not looking up. “And I was the one who let it happen.”

  “She died?” Molly began to reach for him, but his posture was a fortress, shutting her out. “How?”

  “Ten years ago, instead of being safe inside the Novo Club, where our families had arranged an engagement party, she was standing on the corner a block away, outside and vulnerable, an innocent visitor, waiting for me.”

  Molly waited a moment for him to continue. When he seemed hopelessly trapped in his grief, she asked gently, “And?”

  “And I was late.” Each word was sharp, pointed inward, aimed to kill.

  Whatever had happened, it was suddenly obvious to Molly that he was blaming himself for something that hadn’t been his fault. “So you were running late,” she said. “It happens to everyone.”

  His eyes blazed with anger. “I knew she was a stranger here. Unlike her brothers, Vivien had never cared for cities. Like me, she avoided them and knew little about navigating their dangers.”

  Molly pushed aside the jealousy that arose in her gut from hearing him say like me. The poor woman was dead, and Molly wouldn’t envy her, no matter how much of Edward’s love she’d carried with her to the grave. “What happened to her, Edward?”

  “A madman. A fiend. A killer.” He threw aside the sheet and jumped off the bed. “One too cowardly to announce himself, and so he caught Vivien by surprise, cutting her down from behind before she could shift and defend herself. Or maybe she could have shifted, but knew the risk this would bring to our kind in such a large, populated place, and so was trapped in her human form, too small to fight him off.”

  Oh my God. That poor woman. Molly shuddered, blinking back tears. “Edward, it wasn’t your fault.”

  “I should have been there! I told her to—it was my idea—I didn’t want to meet inside the club with all the others watching us. I wanted privacy, I wanted her all to myself for a few minutes—” He paced around the room, punching his fist into his palm. “I chose the corner. I chose the time. I chose her death.”

  “No! Edward, no! Of course you—”

  “Please don’t forgive me so quickly. Do you know why I was late? My failure to be prompt that night was inexcusable. Indefensible.” He turned away from her and ducked his head. His shoulder
muscles were flexed. His entire body was as taut as a piano string. “Pathetic.”

  Unable to bear seeing him in such pain, Molly climbed off the bed and hurried over to him, throwing her arms around his waist and resting her cheek on his back. “Everyone makes mistakes. That doesn’t mean you’re responsible for what a murderer did.”

  “I got lost,” he choked out, his voice strained, broken. “A grown man, meeting his fiancée in a city that was foreign to her. Lost!”

  “My God, Edward. It’s hard not to get lost in Boston.” She forced a laugh.

  “Don’t joke. Please. I had limousines at my disposal but insisted on walking.”

  “I’m not joking. I’m trying to show you how ridiculous it is for you to hold yourself to an impossible standard. You may be half shifter, but you’re human too.” She gently stroked his stomach. “And from what I’ve seen of shifters, they’re equally flawed. Maybe even more so.”

  He let out a long, shaky breath. Not a laugh but an amused sigh of agreement. “Quite true.”

  “Does anyone else blame you? Is that why you ran away and—” His celibacy was baffling to her, even after hearing his explanation. How could you not have sex for ten years? “Didn’t touch another woman?”

  “Her brother blames me. He agreed I should’ve been at her side that night. Tomas is still angry.”

  Oh no. She froze, arms wrapped around his waist. “Tomas?”

  “Tomas Nagy. Vivien was his sister.”

  Nausea washed over her. Of all the men, of all the shifters…

  She dropped her arms and staggered to the bed, wrapping herself in a blanket and facing away from him.

  She’d slept with the brother of the woman he still loved. She’d just seen him, too, in that other club below the Plat, with the rest of his family, and she’d seen the look in his eye.

  “There’s something you have to know,” Molly said.

  “You don’t have to tell me.”

  “I do. Yes, I do. You see…” She closed her eyes and cursed the day she’d ever seen Tomas.

  “I do see. You… were with him once. I already know, so please don’t worry yourself.”

  “You know? How—” A memory of Tomas flirting with her in Montana came back to her. He’d made a show of touching her and was the type of man to boast about the women he’d seduced.