Waiting For Us (Beautiful Surrender, Part Three) (A Billionaire Romance)

by Ava Claire

  I gulped, taking another step back. He could snap me in half, without breaking a sweat. Even if I had the guts to tell him my story and how I needed to see Logan or my world would stop turning, I think he'd just pick me up and drag me out the exit, kicking and screaming.

  You came all this way. You're not gonna even try?

  I looked into the man's unsmiling face as he posed the question a second, and final time. “What will it be, kid? You gonna leave on your own, or will I be escorting you out?”

  I sniffed and gathered my wits about me. Kicking and screaming. “I have to see Logan. It's very important.”

  “Have it your way.” He gripped my elbow, not-so-gently yanking me toward the revolving door. The paparazzi were watching, some in awe of my balls, some just amused at the show.

  I dug the heels of my flats in, forcing my body limp. “If you could just tell him I'm here—”

  “Jake! She's clear!”

  I looked over my shoulder at a statuesque woman that was scurrying over toward us. She was clad in a black blouse and black slacks. Her chestnut colored hair cropped short, intensifying her big brown eyes and cheekbones. She flashed me a smile that dried the tears of frustration that filled my eyes. We hadn't even officially met, but it was a smile shared between the best of friends.

  Jake had stopped dragging me toward the exit, but his hold was firm as he wheeled me to face the woman. “Mr. Mason was clear, Ms. DeLaurentis. Anyone who isn't on the list—”

  “That'll be all, Mr. Johnston.” The friendliness was long gone, her lips a red slash, her eyes the color of fire and brimstone.

  Jake's hold on my arm slackened and I snatched my arm the rest of the way, fighting the urge to stick out my tongue. I stepped around him and jutted out my hand toward my savior.

  “Hi! I'm—”

  “Right this way.”

  My arm dropped to my side as I huffed and puffed to follow her. The elevator door almost closed on me as I struggled to catch my breath. She scanned her ID badge and hit floor 25, then punched it four more times for good measure.

  She glanced over at me finally, her eyes taking stock of me as she tapped her foot impatiently. “You're curvier than I was expecting.” She blushed immediately, pressing a hand to her head like she was feverish. “Sorry, I didn't mean that.”

  I shrugged a shoulder, even though it did matter a little. I'd always been hippy, with itty bitty breasts and it had taken years for me to accept my pear shaped body. If I had the confidence back then that I had now, I'd punch the guys that sung “Baby got back” when I walked in the room. There was still a dash of that little girl hidden in my heart who cried because no matter how many meals I skipped and trips around the track that I made, it was never enough. I'd look at magazines filled with pictures of women that looked like the giant beside me and cry until my eyes swelled shut.

  I sunk my teeth into my lip, banishing the memories. “Where are you taking me?”

  She looked at me like I'd just asked the dumbest question she'd ever heard. “To see Mr. Mason.”

  The elevator slammed to a stop and my heart fell to the floor. “I—uh—”

  “You're the girl from Santa Cruz, right? The reason he's been biting off everyone's head for the past two weeks?” She strutted from the elevator, then jerked forward to stop the doors from drawing closed. “Unless you're an intrepid reporter with quite the scoop.”

  Her last sentence went right over my head. He was miserable? And not just because of the Delilah drama, but because he missed me?

  My grin stretched from ear to ear and faltered when I realized the brunette was still waiting.

  I hurried out behind her. “I'm not from Santa Cruz. But I am Melissa.”

  “Awesome. I'm Jessica,” she responded crisply. “I’m hoping that maybe you can run in there, kiss and makeup, screw him on the desk, something, because we need our boss back.”

  We were alone in the skinny corridor, but I still glanced around, my face warm. The tail wind from her speedy gait cooled my embarrassment as I followed on her heels. My heart was screeching in my ears, my breathing as erratic and breathless as my movements. Finally, we stopped at a glass sliding door.

  She turned to the side, the friendly smile back and situated in place. “I'll give you two some privacy.” Before I could even ask, she finished, “Just walk down the hall to your right. His office is at the end.”

  She shot back the way we came, her heel taps becoming quieter and quieter until the only thing left was my heart raging in my ears. I licked my lips and followed her directions, walking through the sliding glass door, blinking as I made a hard right down a dark hallway, the amber outline from his office door the only light. I stopped in front of the wooden thing, reading his name in perfect letters on the metal placard. My arm rose slowly and I knocked twice and held my breath.

  “Come on in,” a voice gruffly answered.

  I nibbled on my bottom lip. There was nothing gruff about the Logan I’d met. He was playful and slick and warm and—

  Things have happened. A lot has happened.

  I was one of the things that happened.

  And I was there to make things right.

  I stepped inside and almost shielded my eyes. The sun screamed into the room, shining through the floor to ceiling windows. My mouth fell open when I saw him, standing behind his desk, tie loose, shirt half untucked and sleeves rolled up to the elbow. His dark hair was longer, perfect for the surfers we left behind in Pleasure Point. Dark waves fell into his green eyes and he pushed it back, staring at me like I was some apparition.

  My heart took the wheel and I rushed to him, not saying a word as I threw my arms around his neck and slammed my lips into his.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  I had this whole itinerary. A bullet point list of how everything would go when I saw Logan again. At the top of this list in bold and all caps was, 'DO NOT KISS HIM UNTIL YOU SAY YOUR PIECE'.

  Yeah...about that...

  My script was forgotten; my explanation as to why I ran after I poured out my heart and said I loved him null and void. There was only his tongue and my tongue. The erotic brush of his scruffy face as his lips detoured up and down my jaw line and paused at the nape of my neck. His teeth dragged across my skin, sending a slice of pain across my body that melted into ecstasy as his tongue flicked across the spot tenderly. Oh, my body missed him. It was like I was finally waking up, every part of me stretching and wrapping around his touch. Breathing him in.

  Our lips hovered above each other's, his breath hot with lust and mine hot with need. I jutted my tongue out, tracing the outline of his mouth, savoring the taste of his sweat and the deep moan that sounded in his throat.

  His fingers were intertwined in my hair, holding me close. His grip tightened as questions raced across his face. “Melissa, I—”

  I pressed my fingers against his lips. There would be time for talking and questions later. The only thing I wanted, needed was him. His lips curled deviously, understanding the gesture and my request. When his wrist wound and his grip on my hair tightened viciously, I knew it would be honored, but for a price.

  We weren't making love.

  He was going to fuck me.

  My head was pulled all the way back, my neck completely exposed. His other hand ripped at my clothing, tearing off my trench. I gasped when his fist balled the front of my shirt and literally snatched it off my body, buttons flying.

  “My questions will be answered,” he murmured darkly. “But I want you so damn bad that I'll wait. You remember what to say if it becomes too much?”

  “Yes,” I whimpered. His hold loosened as he leaned down to kiss my neck, taking his time as he roamed over my skin, making me so wet I was surprised I hadn't soaked right through my jeans.

  His lips shot to my ear. “Take the rest off and lay over my desk.”

  I obeyed, my fingers gliding over the hooks of my bra, letting it fall to my ankles. My jeans were next, kicked off to the side. I made him work f
or the underwear, hooking both sides of the thing and slowly pulling it down and off. I stood bare and naked, skin slick with sweat, nipples hardened rocks. My pussy ached and dripped for his savage touch.

  I turned to his desk, eyeballing a sea of important looking papers and folders and hesitated. He was behind me in a flash, forcing me forward, chest smooshed against paper and wood. My heart hitched in my chest when I realized what was coming. The wind whistled as his hand sliced through the air and collided with my ass.

  I let out a yelp as the pain made me clutch the edge of the desk. When he started caressing the spot, I almost came. The collision of pain and pleasure was the catalyst, the thing that I craved. It felt right. Me bent over, being spanked, being completely his, felt like destiny.

  His strong fingers dragged down my spine, setting me on fire as he pulled down to my hips. A hand was situated on both sides and I felt his erection through his pants. I remembered every swollen inch with crystal clarity. How thick he was, stretching me, possessing my body as he buried himself inside of me. I tightened my grip on the edge of the desk even though I wanted to turn around and rip his clothes off and ride him down to the floor. Ride him until we both couldn't take anymore, losing track of time and the world outside. But submission was what had me trembling. Body taut with anticipation. Juices seeping down my thighs.

  He stepped backward, but his fingertips skated over my butt, trailing down until he hit my warmth. He groaned as his finger sunk inside me and I shook, my eyes rolling back in my head as he rolled his finger inside me.

  “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you missed me,” he quipped, his voice low and playful.

  “Maybe a little,” I fired back, a moan shooting from my lungs as he added a second finger, driving in and out of me. Building a rhythm that made me rock back to meet his thrusts. I wanted more. All of him.

  The sound of his fly unzipping had me panting. I felt the mushroom tip of him as he teased me with it. I felt the precome kiss my skin as he thumped it on my ass, then diverted to my quivering hole. The pussy that ached for him with every night we spent apart.

  He poised at the entrance, hands on my hips. He made me count every moment that ticked by, holding my breath. Waiting for the moment that two became one.

  He slammed inside of me, sheathing himself in my warmth. My eyes were squeezed shut so tight that I saw stars. I groaned over and over as he filled me, our bodies, our flesh colliding. He gripped my hair, pain wrapping around the delicious pump of his cock.

  Deeper.

  Harder.

  “Come on my cock,” he ordered thickly. “Come now.”

  My orgasms were usually wild, untamable things that came writhing to the surface without my control. But as soon as the word 'now' left his lips my body obeyed, the buzz stampeding over my skin as my core clutched him. From his roar he found his peak inside me, our ecstasy mingling and mixing. Bliss finally ours.

  He stepped away, but I was still glommed to his desk.

  “C'mere,” he said softly.

  I peeled myself from his desk, a manila folder stuck to my boob. There was a sweaty imprint of my body on his paperwork.

  I turned to him, wincing. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t worry about it.” He was perched in his chair, his face flushed, his cock still hard as hell and tucked back into his pants. He beckoned me with a finger and patted his lap.

  I lowered myself onto him, his erection snug beneath me, my arms locked around his neck.

  He leaned in and pressed a long kiss against my lips, then rested his forehead against mine. “I missed you, beautiful.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  I wanted to stay that way, our foreheads touching, eyes closed. Serene, easy, like we hooked up in his skyscraper office every day. Like we hadn't fallen out and not spoken for two weeks.

  He pulled back first, his eyes intent on me. I knew that look. The questions we'd put aside rushed to the surface.

  “What are you doing here, Melissa?”

  I gave him a coy smile, nodding around the room. “I figured one of the richest men in the US must have a killer view of San Francisco.” I whistled, moving to hop off his lap and hide behind the non existent blinds. “I see I was right.”

  The inner voice that whispered that avoiding the truth around Logan Mason wouldn't be that easy was also right. His arms locked around my waist, holding me steady.

  “Nice try.” His eyes were steely with determination, cutting through my bullshit. Even if I wasn't butt naked, that gaze would have done the trick. There was nowhere to run or hide, but my pride was the only thing I had to my name, so I started with a sliver of the truth.

  “I saw what was happening with Delilah and the—” I cleared my throat. “Baby.”

  His face clouded, his eyes distant. “I'm fairly certain that every living thing has heard about the bundle of joy growing in Delilah's womb, and the cold, callous billionaire that won't put aside my playboy ways to make an honest woman out of her.” He tugged at his hair and let out an exhausted sigh. “The funny thing is, I want to talk to her. I've reached out several times. My only requirement is that she leave her entourage of photographers at home. Just she and I, two adults, discussing the child we created.” His voice darkened angrily. “She refuses. Her agent says it would be a bad move for her career to shut the press out now.”

  I stroked his thigh, biting back the disdain that soured my stomach. I could make a choice comment about how that knowledge would turn her long suffering mother narrative on its head, but that was the last thing Logan needed. I saw every line of gossip etched into the weary lines of his face. He carried it in the bags under his eyes. The hurtful comments colored his turquoise gaze. To the world, he was the villain. I wouldn't add to the weight of the heavy cross he had to bear by stating the obvious.

  I gave him a little more of the reason I’d come. “I came here because I wanted you to know that you're not alone.”

  His expression softened as he cradled my cheek, his thumb stroking me as he stared into my eyes. “You drove all the way here just to tell me that, huh?”

  “Just that? Not exactly.” I tried to swallow the knot in my throat, but it wouldn't budge. My lips were dry and chapped and I knew he could feel me trembling. There was no point in delaying the inevitable. “I came here because I shouldn't have freaked out after I said I love you and you didn't say it back.”

  I paused, expecting him to butt in. Say it was all water under the bridge. Something, anything to give me a few seconds to collect my thoughts and breathe before all of this sharing made me freak out a second time.

  No such luck. He waited patiently for me to continue, his fingertips drawing a lazy circle on my lower back.

  “What do we know about each other any way?” I continued, my eyes downcast. I'd meant for it to come out as a joke. Lighthearted, but it tore up my insides. “You look amazing naked, you're a great lay, you're filthy rich—”

  “You're stubborn as a mule, and run off at the mouth to everyone but the people that need to hear it the most,” he countered frostily, unlocking his arm from around me.

  There was some truth to his words, but I decided to live up to the first descriptor, sliding off his lap and walking over to my bundle of clothes. I put each item on slowly, piece by piece, not facing him until I was fully clothed.

  “I'm getting better about number two,” I said quietly. “I gave my dad a piece of my mind finally.” I didn't share that I'd stormed out of the office with my tail between my legs. Or that I'd served up a cold dish of 'go to hell' to my ex, Jason. There was already too much tension in the air. The last time I'd dropped his name around Logan it was equivalent to a bomb going off.

  I sunk my hands into my pockets. “We just met. How can I love you?”

  His eyes held me in place, even from several feet away. He rose from his chair, his movements smooth and sure. He didn't stop until he was in front of me, a wall of sexual energy and power. Eyes that somehow saw right down to my soul.
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  He ensnared my chin, his grip soft and romantic. “You didn't let me finish.”

  I made a face. “I'm not sure I can take much more than stubborn and spineless.”

  His lips twitched into the devastating half smile that made me swoon. “This is more along the lines of the fight in you. The way you didn't back down from Delilah. The way you didn't back down from me.”

  “What?” I said incredulously, shaking his hand from my chin. “I couldn't leave your house fast enough the last time we were together.”

  He didn't take offense, his eyes releasing me for a moment as he rolled his sleeves up. “Would you believe me if I said that wasn't the first time someone blurted I love you to me?”

  Rich, hot, and dominant in bed? “Yeah, I can believe it.”

  He looked back down at me, his eyes serious. “Love is...complicated for me. So saying it isn't something I take lightly.”

  “Neither do—”

  He pressed his fingers against my lips, almost identical to my gesture earlier.

  “You surprised me when you booked it out of there like a bat out of hell,” he continued. “I'm used to the woman begging, telling me she'll wait and be patient. As long as it takes.” His fingers slowly traced my lips, the sweetest caress. “But you've been surprising me from the moment we met. And you don't beg.”

  I couldn't help but smile at the memory of that exchange. He told me he wouldn't sleep with me until I begged for it. Even though I ended up begging, just a little bit, I made him work for it.

  “There's more to you than meets the eye, Melissa. For the past two weeks, every day I fought the urge to drive down to Sacramento and say the things that are hard as hell for me to put into words.”

  He cradled both sides of my face and I knew this was about to be a moment. One of those instances in one's life where something magical was about to happen. Where your heart stops and up is down and everything in the world stops. Nothing matters except what's happening right in front of you.