Start Again Series: A Billionaire Romance Box Set

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Start Again Series: A Billionaire Romance Box Set Page 12

by J. Saman


  That’s my cue though, the wake up I needed, because my breasts are like the point of no return. I push off of him, creating some space between us. Ryan freezes, his hand slipping out of my shirt.

  “Did I hurt you?” His voice sounds panicked.

  “No,” I pant out, shaking my head back and forth. “But we need to stop.”

  He leans up on his elbow, furrowing his brow, looking at me with confusion and maybe a little alarm. “Why? What did I do?”

  I shake my head again, reaching out and running my fingers along his cheek. He leans into my touch, but never takes his eyes off of me.

  “First of all, my boobs are really freaking sensitive and I have trouble stopping once they come into the game.”

  His eyes turn to molten fire, flying down to look at my chest through my thin tank top.

  “Jesus, Katie, you can’t tell me things like that and then ask me to stop,” he groans, dropping his head into the crook of his arm.

  “I’m sorry,” I giggle out and then stop laughing when he throws me a look that says he is not amused. “But we do need to stop.”

  He sits up now, bringing me with him. “Why? Did I do something wrong?”

  “No. You’re incredible, but that’s why I need to stop this before we keep going.” He scrunches his eyebrows, totally confused. Probably because I’m not making a whole lot of sense. I lower my head slightly, suddenly unable to meet his eyes. “I’m not ready for sex, Ryan.”

  He reaches up, lifting my chin so that my attention is on him. “Yet or ever?”

  I shrug. “Yet, but I don’t know when I will be.”

  “But you’re okay with me kissing you?”

  He seems to be working this through, and I sort of appreciate that he didn’t jump out of bed or get angry with me. But then I realize that Ryan isn’t like that. He looks at an entire situation before he reacts, and right now, I absolutely love that about him.

  He’s so patient and…fuck, he’s just perfect.

  “Well, I rather like the kissing,” I admit, and he grins devilishly. “But I’m not ready for more yet, and I’m really not ready for a relationship or anything like it.”

  “Huh.” He sits back, the blanket over his waist leaving his spectacular chest exposed. Not helping, Ryan. “So, you’re good with me kissing you whenever I want?” He throws me an eyebrow like he’s daring me to argue with what feels like the formation of a new plan. “But, I can’t touch your sensitive, absolutely gorgeous tits.” I don’t comment on that. “And you’re not ready for sex…yet.” I get another eyebrow, and I bite my lip to hide my smile. “Or a relationship. Did I get the gist of what you’re trying to tell me?”

  I nod my head, still biting my lip, suddenly feeling a little exposed and nervous.

  I have no idea what I’m proposing between us, but it changes everything. How will that impact the next two weeks? I don’t want a relationship, but if he’s talking about kissing me whenever he wants, what the hell are we then?

  Friends who kiss?

  Yeah, that one always works out well.

  But I don’t want a relationship. I don’t. I still feel married and taken, and suddenly, I feel like I’m cheating on Eric.

  “Katie, stop. I see your wheels spinning and they don’t need to.” My eyes widen at him because I’m shocked he can read me so well. “All right, I’m going to be honest with you, since you’re being so honest with me.”

  “Okay.”

  He shifts his position, reaching out for my hips and pulling me closer to his side. His fingers run through my messy wavy locks and he smiles deeply.

  “I like you. A lot. I think you’re incredible, and I really like kissing you. Do I want more than kissing with you? Of course, I do. Badly, in fact, but I would never do something with you that you’re not ready for. So if all you’re offering me right now is kissing with the eventual possibility of more, then I’m good with that,” he smiles, leaning down to brush his lips against mine as if to prove his point before pulling back. “I’m great with it actually.”

  “And you’re fine with not being in a relationship or anything like that?” I realize he’s a guy and that is probably not an issue for him, but I need to make sure.

  He looks pensive for a moment and then nods. “Yeah. I’m okay with that. I just want to enjoy the last two weeks of this journey with you and all that it entails.”

  “Wow.”

  I don’t really know what else to say.

  Not many men would willingly enter into a PG non-relationship with a woman without at least the promise of sex. Maybe he thinks that’s eventually where this is headed, and it could be, but I just don’t know.

  I honestly don’t, so I won’t tell him yes or no either way.

  “Now. I’d like to kiss the hell out of you for a bit longer until I can’t take it anymore, and then I’d like to go for a hike through the Grand Canyon before we head to Vegas.”

  “I’m liking all of those things,” I smile at his playful expression. He seems so much lighter today than he has the past few days.

  “Good. Now get your sexy ass over here.” He picks me up, settling me on his thighs, before lying back and bringing me up so that I’m straddling his stomach. “You’re so small, Katie. In this situation, it’s a good thing. I think if you were pressed against me a little lower, this would never work.”

  I laugh, leaning down to kiss him. “Agreed.”

  We kiss and touch safe areas, looking and smiling at each other a lot, until Ryan suddenly tosses me off him and onto the bed and announces that he needs to go take a shower immediately.

  I get it. Actually, I see it as he walks by me.

  “Don’t look at me like that, Katie. You’re killing me, and I’m trying so hard to be good,” he says with a smile as he stands at the foot of the bed.

  I’m biting my lip, trying to hide my smile. “Yes, you certainly are trying hard to be good.”

  He groans, dropping his head back and stalks heavily towards the bathroom. “I’m going to get you back for that.”

  “Promise?” I call out, and he groans again as he slams the door behind him, making me laugh.

  The sound of the water running through the pipes fills the room as he starts the shower, and I get up and walk toward the window. It is a beautiful day. Bright and sunny.

  After he comes out of the shower, wrapped in another freaking towel, I go into the bathroom and get changed, but I don’t shower. No point since we’re planning on hiking.

  “Ready?” he asks when I walk out in running shorts, a sports bra, and tank top.

  “Ready.”

  He smiles, walks to me, and kisses me like crazy until we’re both breathless. “Now we’re ready.”

  “Maybe all this kissing is a bad idea,” I jest.

  He takes my hand and leads me out of the room toward the lobby. “I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that. Kissing is a perfect idea. Definitely one of the better ones I’ve had,” he winks down at me, and I can only shake my head at him.

  He is too freaking cute when he’s playful like this.

  The Grand Canyon is everything I always thought it would be and more. Incredible and picturesque and phenomenal. Jagged cliffs, red earth, and the river cutting through the canyon.

  We hike one of the many trails—which is actually pretty challenging—for a couple of hours.

  By the time we are finished, we’re both covered in sweat and sunscreen and dirt, but it was worth it. We both took a million pictures along the way, but at the top, with the canyon vast and glorious behind us, we take a selfie together.

  Then Ryan kisses me hard, and takes more of us like that.

  When he pulls away, he is smiling so big, it’s infectious, and I’m smiling too, and I feel…happy.

  I feel fucking happy, and then that turns to guilt, and the vicious cycle begins all over again. I do my best to push it down and just be in the moment with Ryan. Eventually, that wins out.

  We load our stuff into the c
ar for the short trip over to Vegas. Neither one of us has bought a whole lot along the way, so it’s still just our suitcases and my boxes that I have left untouched. Once we hit the highway, Ryan is introspective again.

  “Everything good?” I ask, turning in my seat to face him since he’s driving.

  “Yes, I was just thinking.”

  “About?” I prompt.

  “You and me.” This makes me a little nervous. “I’m thinking that we should share a room from now on. No more two rooms.” He looks over at me quickly to try and gauge my reaction before turning back to the road.

  “I don’t know, Ryan. I mean, us sharing a room for the next two weeks is sort of relationship-y.”

  “You know that’s not a word, right?”

  I roll my eyes. “Yes, Professor, I’m fully aware. But it is, don’t you think?”

  “Not really, no. I think it’s cost-effective and smart.” He’s giving me his crooked grin again, and it’s hard to say no to him when he does that.

  “One bed or two?”

  “One. I liked waking up with you wrapped around me this morning.”

  “And this still stays within the realm of no sex and no relationship?” I ask dubiously. That just doesn’t seem right.

  “Sure,” he shrugs like it’s not the big deal I’m making it out to be.

  “Okay, but then how will we handle splitting the room? You do one place I do the next?”

  “Um no. That won’t work for me.” He looks over at me again. He’s having way too much fun with this. “I’m going to pay for the hotels from here on out.”

  “No,” I’m shaking my head emphatically. “Absolutely not.”

  He sighs. “Listen, Katie,” he reaches out for my hand, intertwining our fingers. “I have more money than I could spend in two lifetimes, and this is something I want to do.”

  “I don’t care if you have the money for it, Ryan. That just doesn’t seem right or fair.”

  “Sweetheart,” he’s trying to hide his smile and failing. “I’ll let you pay for some meals, if that makes you feel better.”

  “It really doesn’t,” I grumble.

  “Look, I’ve never really been a first-class all the way guy, but that’s sort of how I want to finish up this trip.”

  “I hope that’s not for my sake, because I really don’t need that.”

  “It’s not.” He squeezes my hand. “When the hell else in our lives will we go on a trip like this? Have this kind of time? Never. Let’s enjoy it.”

  I narrow my eyes at him, still not sure how I feel about him paying for all the hotels. And then there is the whole sleeping together every night thing. Yeah, I’m going to have to think on that one a little more. But for now, I say, “All right, Ryan.” He smiles brightly, so I hurry my words. “As long as you let me pay for meals and fun.”

  “Some meals and some fun.”

  “There really is just no winning with you, is there?”

  He raises our joined hands up to his lips, kissing my fingers. “Don’t kill my buzz, Katie. Try and enjoy the moment.”

  “Are you ever going to tell me more about your work?”

  He glances over at me with a smirk. “My work? Sort of a random topic change, don’t you think?”

  “No. You talked about your money, which I assume is from your work.”

  He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t like to talk about either.”

  “I’m not asking about your money, Ryan. Frankly, I could care less about what you have and what you don’t. But I am curious about what you do for a living.”

  “I do a lot of things with computers.”

  “Vague and completely unhelpful,” I smack his shoulder with my free hand, making him laugh.

  “I create apps, do cybersecurity as well as other things. That’s all I’m giving you.”

  “And it’s not illegal?” I confirm, because last time he said it wasn’t, but the way he doesn’t talk about it makes it seem like it is.

  “No.”

  “Do you want me to stop asking you about it?”

  “Yes, but it’s not that I don’t want to share with you, because I do. It’s just that I keep my work very separate.”

  “I can live with that.” The Vegas skyline is now visible in the distance. “You ready to sin, Mr. Grant?”

  “Oh, Katie, I’ve been ready to sin since I first laid eyes on you.” I’m in so over my head with this man.

  14

  Ryan

  * * *

  As the lights of the Vegas Strip get closer and closer, the more I fear Katie is going to be pissed at me. She is not impressed by money. I get it. I respect the hell out of it, actually, but I still want to treat her like a fucking princess.

  So I did something I’ve never done before.

  I enlisted my PA, Claire, to make dozens of reservations, and not just here in Vegas, but for the remainder of our trip.

  Claire is really good at shit like that, and she got a sick thrill out of me asking her to do it. I’m still holding Katie’s hand as we drive down Las Vegas Boulevard toward the Four Seasons. She’s letting me, and anything she lets me do, I’m going to take advantage of.

  Like kissing. I plan on kissing her constantly.

  I have no idea how long I’ll be able to keep up the middle-school, only-kissing thing, but I’m willing to give it my all and find out. Something tells me she won’t last long with it either.

  As for the no relationship crap?

  Well, I’m hoping that also changes when this trip is all said and done.

  I’ve got two more weeks to make her realize that she cannot live without me.

  Two weeks before our forced time is up and she has a choice to make. Stay or go. I’m hoping for stay. I don’t think I could ever get enough of her, and I’ve only kissed her. I haven’t even begun to explore her, and doing that the way I would like could certainly take an entire lifetime at least.

  But it is way more than the possibility of sex with Katie.

  It’s the thought of Katie herself.

  I have to admit, when Katie first told me that she and Eric had been together since they were twelve, I was shocked in a total guy way. I mean, the idea of only one woman your entire life?

  Fuck, that is unimaginable.

  But after just kissing Katie, I get it. Eric realized at a very young age that there was no chance in hell of him finding something better than her, because it simply does not exist. I get it now. I absolutely do.

  But she is still stuck on him.

  I see it in her eyes, and I see it in the way she holds onto that pendant like it is her reason for living. I have to wonder if it’s guilt that is driving it.

  I know she loved him. I’m sure she still does and that a part of her always will, but it’s more than that that is keeping her from living again. More than just losing Maggie too. It’s like she won’t allow herself to be happy because they’re dead and she’s not.

  I’m no expert on survivor’s guilt, but I’d say she’s got it in spades.

  She is trying, though. I’ll give her that.

  Maybe she just needs more time to work through all of her shit. The boxing certainly helped, and it’s something I plan to do with her again.

  Katie is oddly quiet as we drive, her eyes glued to the giant hotels and the masses wandering the excessively bright streets. The sun is shining high in the cloudless sky, adding to the Vegas desert mystique.

  “What have you done, Ryan Grant?” she whispers, more to herself than to me as we pull into the Four Seasons.

  Yeah, she’s gonna be mad, especially when she sees our room. Too late now. The valet opens our door, and the second we’re out of the car, our bags are being removed by the bellhop.

  “Mr. Grant. Welcome to Four Seasons Hotel, Las Vegas. My name is Sarah and I am your personal concierge during your stay.” A woman in a sharp black suit comes over to me and shakes my hand firmly. “Your suite is ready for you, sir, and I’ve made the arrangemen
ts you’ve requested.”

  “Thank you.” I take Katie’s hand and pull her along into the building to the private elevator for the upper floors. I can feel her staring at me, but she’s remained silent while Sarah leads the way.

  Sarah swipes the key for our room and then hands it to me. “The penthouse, sir,” she says, opening the door for us to walk in first.

  It’s perfect.

  There are sweeping views of the Strip, and the mountains in the distance from every window. There is a large living room, dining room, multiple bathrooms, and a huge bedroom with a walk-in closet. A bottle of champagne is chilling on ice—which I did not order, but certainly won’t complain about—as well as everything I purchased for Katie. I palm Sarah some money and she graciously takes the hint and leaves us alone.

  And then I wait for it.

  Katie is walking slowly through the space, touching everything she comes across. The fabrics and wood of the furnishings, the drapes, even the glass of the windows that showcase the Strip.

  But she’s eerily silent, and I’m terrified of the explosion to come.

  Finally, she walks over to the bedroom, and like a good little boy who is hoping for more kisses, I follow her in. Her bright blue eyes take in the entire room, and then she walks into the closet.

  There is a black garment bag hanging inside along with a pair of shoes and a purse.

  She doesn’t touch them, just stares, blinking a lot, and I know I’m in trouble now.

  “I don’t know whether to yell at you or kiss you.”

  “If I get a choice, I opt for kissing,” I say, lingering in the door of the closet, my hands up on the wood frame above my head.

  “Why did you do all this?” She turns to face me, her hand waving to the stuff I bought and then over to the large suite.

  “Because I wanted to,” I say simply. I really don’t have much more of an explanation that I am willing to give her. “I want to take you out for dinner tonight, and then after that, I want to go dancing with you again. The dress and the shoes are for that. If you don’t like them, we can go to any of the shops and pick something else out.”

 

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