Billionaire's Best Woman - A Standalone Novel (A Billionaire Wedding Romance Love Story) (Billionaires - Book #5)

by Claire Adams

  Slipping one finger in, turning it like a key, he massaged me from the inside, trying to coax more of that hot, slick juice toward his nimble tongue. I didn’t know how it happened; I really didn’t.

  I was just there getting a drink, ready to celebrate my final night as a free woman before I started my job interning the next day when Dean just walked up to me, just like that. The next thing I knew, this gorgeous man was pulling layer after incredible layer away from my body’s defenses. With every defense he unwound, he granted a new level of sensation, pleasure, even acceptance.

  I felt so vulnerable with him attending to me that way. It was dark, but with every touch, I felt somehow revealed by him. He had shifted from my core to the inside of my thighs, each in their turn, and the pull of his fiery mouth surged through me as he kissed and sucked my skin.

  In the darkness, he was phantom and fantasy. The tiny bits of light in the room were enough for me to make out his silhouette, but it always seemed like my eyes perceived him just a moment too late. There, between my legs, was Dean Carrick, billionaire. Forgive me if I was having trouble believing it, myself.

  “The nightstand,” he said, “there are condoms in there. Grab one.”

  The sound of his voice startled me. I’d grown content with the belief this was just a particularly gratifying dream. Thankfully, the darkness hid my awkwardness as I rolled my upper body to one side, reaching over and opening the drawer. I felt around blindly a few seconds, but it didn’t take long to find the box and remove a condom from within.

  That small bit of red light coming off the alarm clock was enough to undo whatever adjustment my eyes had done to compensate for the darkness, and I held the condom out blindly. He took it within a second, and the next thing I knew, he was sucking the skin at the curve of my neck, and I could feel the blunt pressure of him slowly parting my flesh with his.

  “Who are you?” I asked, even though his name was already on an endless cycle through my brain.

  “You know who I am.”

  As he pronounced the final syllable, he buried himself inside me to the hilt. I gasped, and I didn’t know if it was the darkness or the way my body just unfolded with him inside me, but for a moment, my vision was a flash of bright color I’m still not sure I truly saw.

  Yeah, I knew who he was. I knew who he was when I heard the two size-nothing Barbie Dolls next to me going on about how they were going to be the ones to go home with him that night. He started walking toward them, and they walked to meet him, only he didn’t stop. He passed both of them and sat down next to me. I’m still not sure he would have made the same choice if he’d heard what those girls had planned for him.

  His presence inside and outside of me was so powerful that I couldn’t help feeling freed by it. In no way was he not dominant, but every kiss falling on my neck, my chest, everywhere was surprisingly gentle. About the time that thought went through my head, my world began to shake from the inside out, already eager to let all that pleasure, tension, uncertainty, and fear fall away as I did my best to match his quickening tempo.

  Just as I could feel that inner coil of rigidity winding to the point it was about to unravel, he pulled out of me. For about half a minute, I figured that was all there was going to be, but a moment later, he was kissing me and positioning himself on his back next to me. Even in the dark and without words, he let me know what he wanted.

  I climbed on top of him, sure that if he was going to realize I’m a pretty big woman and that’s more of a problem than he’d anticipated, it was going to happen then. Even before I’d fully straddled him, I imagined all the ways this was about to go wrong.

  The strangest thing happened, though. As I climbed on top of him, reaching between my legs to find his erection and return it to where I felt it belonged, he let out a low, pleasured moan.

  That was all the encouragement I needed. The insecurity finally washed away from me entirely, and I fell onto him with verve and fire that had the walls echoing with the sounds of our bodies meeting.

  Losing that anxiety, I gained something else. It was the realization that, no matter what, I was never going to have this opportunity again. Nobody was ever going to believe it happened in the first place, and so chances were I’d never talk about it to anyone, either. Once that moment was over, it would only exist in my memories and fantasies. With a slow grind, I was liberated. After that, I didn’t hold back anything.

  I leaned forward. Lifting my right breast toward his mouth, he met me halfway, sucking my nipple between his smoldering lips. He had walked up to me. He saw me in the light of the club, and I was the one that he approached. Dean Carrick chose me. I wanted him to remember me, even though I knew it would never amount to anything more than that.

  “The light,” I breathed, “can you reach it?”

  “Light on,” he said, and just like that, the lamps on each side of the bed came on and for a moment, I froze. I’d expected at least a couple of seconds to brace myself, but illumination wasn’t so emancipating as I thought it’d be. “Hey.”

  “Yeah?” My voice was little more than a distant echo.

  “Stay with me.” I was looking away from him, just staring at the lamp to the left of the bed, but I permitted myself a glance in his direction. “Stay with me,” he repeated. “I want you.”

  Yeah, okay. Like it was really that easy. When the light came on, he was a profoundly successful man with an athletic build and vibrant, green eyes. That same light revealed that I was still me, and that was about the least empowering thing I could think to be.

  “Do we need to stop?”

  I was humiliated. Although I couldn’t imagine continuing, the thought of stopping hadn’t crossed my mind until he suggested it. Looking down and away from him, I could feel the blood rushing to my face. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

  He didn’t say anything, he just nodded. I climbed off of him and covered myself with the bedsheet. I knew I wasn’t making things any better, but I was too exposed. Dean Carrick sat up and moved to one edge of the bed. He leaned down, grabbing his clothes, and once he’d picked them up, he stood and left the room to get dressed.

  I told myself to hold it in, but I could feel the tears gathering. He hadn’t rejected me yet, so I’d rejected myself. I felt like I was getting away with something, being with him. Why the hell did I ask him to turn on the stupid light?

  Dean walked into the room, carrying two flutes of champagne, one in each hand. He came to my side of the bed and sat down on the edge, holding one of the glasses out toward me. “This is Krug Clos d’Ambonnay, 1998. The vineyard is only slightly over an acre-and-a-half, but it produces some of the best pinot noir grapes in the world.”

  I took the glass, but did little more than stare at it. He’d said “pinot noir,” but the champagne in the glass was white. Every pinot noir I’ve ever had was red. Of course, I wasn’t an expert or even an aficionado. The only time I ever drank wine was when I’d go to dinner with friends and one of them would order a bottle. I wasn’t about to embarrass myself more by asking about it.

  “Would you like some privacy?”

  “I think I should go.”

  He sighed. “You know who I am, right?”

  “Of course I know who you are.”

  “I’m sure you’ll understand, then, if I ask for discretion.”

  “That won’t be a problem.”

  “Okay,” he said, placing his open palm on my leg through the covers. “I can make myself scarce so you can get dressed. You can stay here tonight if you want.”

  I nodded and he got up, leaned over, and gave me a kiss on the forehead before leaving the room as he sipped his champagne. He closed the door to the bedroom behind him.

  It was such a mistake. If it had been anyone else in the world, I might have been able to just pass it off as another sexual experience turned soul-crushing, but I knew the chances of us seeing each other again were a lot higher than he knew.

  The reason I was at that bar in the first place w
as to celebrate my new job. My brother was in upper management at Farnsworth & Templeton Software, and one of his conditions for me staying with him was that I have gainful employment. He’d taken care of everything. I was starting work the next day.

  For a while, I entertained the thought that I’d get over myself before the night was out, so I flipped on the television. Distraction seemed like the best option. The TV was on some news station where they were talking about the upcoming parole hearing for James Iozzo, or just as often, “Izzy the monster.” It astounded me how fascinated everyone seemed to be by the mafia in New York, though they’d lost much of their foothold in the city long before then. Still, the distraction hadn’t been distracting enough, so I turned the TV back off again.

  I could hear the door to the hotel room open and close. All I could hope was that it was room service and they’d be gone by the time I was dressed and out of there, but the only sounds I heard after the door closed were the sounds of the fabric of my clothes as I rushed to cover myself and get out of there.

  After I was dressed, I stood with one ear at the bedroom door a minute, trying to gauge what I was about to walk through on my way out, but still, no sound. With a rush of adrenaline, I opened the door to find the main area of the suite dark and abandoned. Either he’d gone to another room, or he’d left entirely. It didn’t matter. I was out the door and on the elevator before I started really wondering which it was. Not that it mattered.

  I never tasted the champagne.

  * * *

  Morning came, though I hadn’t slept. I couldn’t imagine going to work. It was the worst possible thing I could do, and I knew it. Once the clock ticked over to 5:30 and I could hear my brother’s alarm blaring a few rooms away, I got out of bed and got dressed. I found him in the kitchen, making coffee.

  Luke, my brother, was the golden child. Before Mom and Dad passed, he was the one they groomed for success, and that grooming started early. I remember because he’s my junior by four years. I don’t remember much of anything from before Luke was born, but once he showed up, I wasn’t much remembered myself.

  “How’d you sleep?” he asked.

  “Didn’t.”

  “That’s the way it goes, I guess. Coffee? They probably won’t keep you all day, but you definitely want to be awake.”

  “I have to tell you something.”

  “Hold on just a minute,” he said, grabbing a couple of mugs from the cupboard. I waited. “I forget, do you like cream and sugar?”

  “Cream, two sugars.”

  “That’s right,” he laughed. “You like to drink coffee as long as you can’t taste it.”

  “I can’t go to work today. I’m sorry, I know you put yourself out on a limb for me, getting me hired on and all, but I can’t do it.”

  Luke set down the mugs next to the coffee maker and opened another cupboard, this time pulling out the sugar. “Why’s that?”

  “I’d rather not talk about it. I just can’t work there. I’ll find something else, I promise. I’m not trying to get out of contributing my fair share, but—”

  “I didn’t go out on a limb for you, if that’s what you’re worried about. I have hiring privileges, and it’s not like I tried making you a partner at the company or anything. You’re an unpaid intern. Because you’re an unpaid intern, I’m not too worried about you ‘contributing your fair share’ for a while, either. You’re just nervous because it’s been a bit since you’ve had a job. It’ll pass.”

  “It’s more than that.”

  He poured the coffee before opening the fridge and handing me the creamer. “I never know how much people want and I always screw it up.”

  “You’re not listening to me.”

  “Marcy, if there’s some reason you legitimately can’t work at the company, you should have told me that before I got you the internship. It’s not a huge thing, but it would have saved me the paperwork.”

  “I know. I’m sorry. I didn’t know this was going to happen, I just—”

  “I’ve got to finish getting ready. Marce,” he was the only person that could get away with calling me that, “you need to get ready, too. It’s just an internship, but if you do well, it can lead to much bigger things. It’s not like the other interns we hire who are just there for a little experience to pad their resumes; you can become a part of the company in a real way. You just need to suck it up, okay? Let’s not act like you don’t need this.”

  Until two weeks ago, I was still living in New Jersey, working in the bakery of a local grocery store. Luke and I always kept in contact, but even though we had only lived a few hours from one another, we never got together. I didn’t tell him about the store going under or my recent ex-boyfriend, Donny, having abandoned me when it looked like he was about to lose his meal-ticket until I was already a week late on my rent and there was an eviction notice on my door.

  The idea of living in the city again had been appealing. When Luke said I could stay with him, that he’d help me find something, I thought it was going to be a door opening to a new and better life. How was I supposed to tell Luke that I’d slept with the big boss the night before?

  I hadn’t planned it. In fact, when I first saw him in the club—well, first I was just astounded that someone like him would actually go to a club. Immediately after that thought, though, my first instinct was to slip out of there.

  Luke was in the shower and I was still standing in the kitchen, holding the creamer and trying to think of a way to tell him without telling him. It’s not like he’d believe me anyway, I guess. Working so closely with Dean Carrick, though—I couldn’t imagine referring to him by first name alone—Luke might find out without me telling him. I’d love to say it was an awkward situation, but awkward would have been a gift. I don’t think there’s a word in the language for what I was feeling as I stood there, watching my coffee get cold.

  I was still standing there when Luke came back out in his bathrobe.

  “What the hell are you doing? You should be showered and dressed already.”

  “I told you, I can’t do it.”

  Luke took the creamer from my hand and dumped entirely too much of it into my coffee mug. He opened the sugar and didn’t bother measuring: he just took a handful and dropped it in the now-blonde liquid. “Yeah, maybe I wasn’t entirely clear on how imperative it is you have a job. It’s not about the money, and I think we both know that. But if you’re going to live here, you’re going to have to chip in, or else I’m just enabling you to do nothing.”

  “You’re not listening to me. It’s not getting a job or having a job that’s the problem.”

  “Great, I’ll be in the car. You have ten minutes before I leave. If I leave without you, when I come home, we’re looking for somewhere else for you to go.”

  “Luke, will you just listen to me a second?”

  “Ten minutes,” he said, tapping his Baume & Mercier watch. After that, he was out the door.

  After taking the quickest shower of my life, I was grateful I hadn’t put away the clothes I’d set out for my debut as an unpaid intern. Luke was telling the truth: it wasn’t about the money.

  Somewhere in my fantasy world, I envisioned getting into the car and telling Luke what the real problem was. I was sure he wouldn’t really want to hear it, but at the same time, I knew he would have to agree that working for Farnsworth & Temple was a bad idea.

  The reality, though, was I got in the car and as we pulled out of the driveway, the only thing either of us could think to say to the other was Luke telling me, “That was twelve minutes. We’ve got to work on your punctuality if you’re going to make a good impression.”

  The rest of the way there, I repeated the phrase, “I can’t do this,” a few times, but never managed any more than that. This was my brother. As badly as I could see things going if Dean Carrick were to find me at the company the day after he’d asked for my discretion, the fact remained that sex wasn’t a topic Luke and I ever broached. It wasn’t like I wa
s just one of the guys and could say something like, “Yeah, I nailed the boss last night,” and then expect a pat on the back and a high five.

  As we came into Manhattan, I started to relax a little. Even though we’d be working in the same building, it was entirely possible Dean Carrick and I could go a long time without ever crossing paths. I could probably find another job before something like that happened. We would be on different floors, anyway.

  We pulled into the parking structure of the skyscraper and parked. As we were getting out of the car, Luke glanced over at me, saying, “You look good. Maybe next time spend a little more time on the makeup, though. You look paler than usual.”

  The whole way through the parking garage and into the building, I was looking around in every direction. If Dean Carrick, CEO of Farnsworth & Temple and my new boss’s boss’s boss’s boss, was anywhere around, I would have spotted him first. This didn’t comfort me.

  With the elevator crowded to capacity, it was too late for me to refuse to go any further. I’d considered making a break for it when the doors opened on a lower floor, but there were too many people ahead of me. I would have succeeded in making a scene and irritating my brother while he stopped me, but the fact was I was stuck.

  When the elevator got to my floor, Luke not-so-politely asked for people to move so I could get off, and as the doors were closing behind me, he said, “When you’re done, just come up to my office and we’ll head home together.”

  “Luke, I really think—”

  “Have fun,” he said as the doors closed.

  Fortunately, my training and the subsequent errand-running that was to be my job for the foreseeable future kept me busy enough that the day was over before I knew it. Unfortunately, I had to go up to the executive level if I wanted a ride home. I didn’t bring money for a cab. By the time I got to the elevator and pressed the call button, I’d forgotten just about everything from my work day.

  Still, the chances that I’d actually run into Dean Carrick, even on the executive level, were slim. I couldn’t imagine a scenario where he would be out there on the floor where we’d bump into each other. So when the doors opened on the executive level and he was standing right there, I had to clutch the railing of the elevator.