The Billion Heir (Billionaire Book Club #1)

by Nikky Kaye

  The setting sun spilled over the bed, bathing us in a warm glow. We were on fire. I pressed my hands on either side of her silky head; her hair looked like gold ribbons decorating the quilt. Her eyes were as green as the buds on the trees in Central Park, wide and blinking at me. She bit her lip as I moved jerkily inside her.

  “Lucas…”

  “I know, honey. I know. But I need you to come for me. One. More. Time.” I grunted as I tilted my hips and pressed against her. “Please.” It was my turn to beg, and her eyes darkened at my words. She was biting her lip so hard I was surprised it wasn’t bleeding.

  When she snaked one hand between us to rub her clit, I pulled out enough for us both to look down and watch for a moment. My dick swelled at her entrance, stretching her further as she plucked at herself. She inhaled sharply. I’d had enough, my patience tapped. I pulled her hand out and pinned her arms by her head. Her legs fell from my hips.

  “Fucking come, Lexi!” I urged. I drove into her roughly once, twice, then she cried out again and I emptied myself into her trembling body.

  Well, she’d told me to show her.

  Chapter Ten

  Lexi

  When I woke up, it was dark outside. With the curtains wide open, the lights of the city glowed through the window and the white linens on the bed made it gleam like a pearl. Half a dozen decorative pillows were strewn on the floor.

  At some point we’d made it from the bottom of the bed to the top. I’d braced myself against the upholstered headboard as Luke took me from behind, his hands moving from my hips to my ass and up and down my back, as though he couldn’t decide where to land. The small of my back ached a little from arching it earlier, and now I curled into a ball beside him to stretch it out.

  He laid on his stomach, barely covered by the sheet, the curve of his ass like a homing beacon for my mouth. Yeah, I wanted to bite it. However, I didn’t want to wake him up. I wasn’t sure my girly parts were ready for round three. I was still recovering from round one.

  Lucas Knox, billionaire oil baron, had fucking drilled me. And I loved it. I was still shocked at my response. Maybe it was because I hadn’t had sex in a very long time, but it was like the first time that every girl reads about and dreams of—but so rarely ever gets to have.

  My body was made for his. My heart, on the other hand… It was a little more fragile. The small fingertip bruises and love bites Luke had graced my skin with went deeper than I’d realized. I was kidding myself if I thought this was a casual hook-up.

  I felt a little self-conscious getting out of bed buck naked, but a glance back at Luke showed him deep in sleep. After a quick trip to the bathroom, I crouched down to get my phone out of my purse. My battery was close to empty, but my email and other accounts were full.

  A quick check of my voice mail left me feeling cold and empty. My only other client at the time, for whom I mostly did old-fashioned press clippings, had gotten a wind of a story one of those cockroaches did about my father recently. I’d been dumped. A check for the balance of my services was in the mail. She was really sorry, but hopefully I understood the optics of the situation and her position in society, blah blah blah…

  I shivered. Luke’s discarded shirt was on the floor nearby, and I pulled it on and buttoned it up. It smelled a bit like whatever aftershave he’d used that day, but there was still his intrinsic scent there too—warm and fresh, like a denim jacket left out in the sun.

  I was fucked, and not just literally. I was sleeping with my main client, and I’d lost my only other one. Not to mention the fact that I hadn’t yet been paid by Michael Cohen, and rent was due soon for both my apartment and my father’s room.

  If I’d thought my girly parts were sore, then my heart and my mind were a close second. I pulled my legs up and wrapped my arms around them, resting my chin on my knees as I brainstormed.

  “What are you doing on the floor?” a sleepy voice asked. Luke was still on his belly, but his head was turned toward me. His eyes were half-open, his arms stretched above him and under the pillow. “Come back to bed, honey.”

  When I didn’t move, his eyes opened a little more.

  “What is it?” he asked. He pressed his face into the mattress and rubbed it back and forth to wake up.

  “I lost a client.”

  He turned on his side to prop himself up on his elbow. “I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” I looked away. Actually, it kind of was his fault, but I tried to always take responsibility for my own life now. Blaming him wasn’t going to help anyhow. If there was anyone to blame, it would be my father, and that ship had already sailed—sailed, hit the rocks, and left me marooned. How many times would I have to reach for a lifejacket?

  I needed one of those shirts that said “self-rescuing princess.”

  My stomach whined, reminding me that we hadn’t had dinner. “I’m hungry. Are you hungry?”

  I looked at Luke, but his naked body was too damn distracting. Even soft, his cock was impressive as it lay against his thigh, and the ridges of muscle on his abdomen rippled. With only a small twinge in my center, I got up from the floor and went to the desk to look for a room service menu.

  “You don’t wanna go out to eat, do you?” he complained. “We could just stay here and stay naked.”

  I browsed the offerings and frowned in dismay. Holy shit, the burger was thirty bucks! And that was without the room service charge and tip. A hot dog cart was more in my budget right now.

  “Have you ordered a lot of room service here?”

  Luke sat up and reached over to turn on a lamp. The light turned his skin golden. “You can order anything you want here,” he suggested.

  I held up the menu. “Are you kidding? A glass of orange juice is eight dollars!” Wow, had I once lived like this? I felt ashamed of my fourteen year-old self, but I was sure I wasn’t alone in that.

  He rubbed his knuckle across his creased forehead. “So? Yeah, it’s ridiculous, but I’m not paying for it.” He paused, dropping his hand. “Well, not right now.”

  I glanced at the menu again, finding the kids’ section. Usually that was cheaper—or not. “Maybe you can afford a twenty-dollar PB and J, but I can’t.” With a quiet snort of disgust, I dropped the embossed leather folder back on the desk.

  “C’mere.”

  I padded back to the bed, letting out a small gasp as Luke pulled me down on it. He rolled on top of me, his fingers going to the buttons on my borrowed shirt.

  “Goddamn buttons,” he growled. “Fucking bespoke tailor. Next time I’m bespeaking up for snaps or Velcro.”

  He pulled open the first few buttons before raising my arms to peel the shirt off over my head. The fire in his eyes licked my skin until I felt like I would crumble into ash. I was losing myself in this man in a way I’d never let myself. The few men I’d trusted in my life had let me down in spectacular ways. Would he, as well? There was no way to know.

  Luke replaced the burn of his gaze with his mouth, lazily treating my torso like a tasting menu. He lay between my legs, pausing in between hot, wet kisses to my skin to grin up at me. When my stomach growled again, he poked at it playfully.

  “Dinner?” I prompted.

  “You bet. Don’t worry—I’ll fill you up.” His smirk made my belly flip. “I just want to have an appetizer here first.”

  I squirmed beneath him. He could probably feel my wetness on his chest where he pressed against me. “I thought I was dessert.”

  “Honey, you’re a full course meal. And I’m going to savor every bite.”

  * * *

  Another two orgasms dazed me enough to agree to room service, but at nine o’clock I decided to shut down the intimate buffet.

  I headed home, opting for the subway instead of calling the car service. It took longer, but the mingled smells of moldy newspapers and stale urine brought me back to the reality of not living like a billionaire. I welcomed the hot air blowing my hair as I stood on the platform, a musty, gusty
reminder of my life in the here and now.

  Despite my fatigue, I stayed up too late working on a marketing blitz to look for new clients. The whole world revolved around the Internet, didn’t it? It should be easy to find a new job.

  Within a week I had a new routine—spend time with Luke, both in and out of bed, and look for gigs. He was my rock, and the world was my hard place. The girl in me wanted to squee all over social media about my new relationship, but the struggling freelancer knew it wouldn’t be a great idea to advertise that I slept with my client. I justified it to myself by saying that Michael Cohen was my client, not Lucas Knox.

  After three weeks, the routine had become a crutch, and my job search a little more desperate. I began looking for a cheaper place, but the only way I could further economize would be to time-share a place with four other people in the Bronx. There was enough princess still in me to draw the line at sharing a bathroom with total strangers.

  For that matter, I could have moved into Luke’s bathroom in his hotel suite—it was already almost the size of my apartment. I was spending more and more time in his suite anyhow. I hadn’t purchased any aspirational vegetables for my own fridge in more than a week.

  At least I had more time to visit my father, which I did a few times. It was a constant battle between my guilt over not spending enough time with him, and the anger I was stoking that his selfish scandal had resurfaced and submarined my career. I didn’t want to blame Luke for that, but in some ways he was the culprit. Maybe that’s why he didn’t want to be introduced to my father when he came with me on one visit, instead opting to wait in the lobby.

  Dad and I played cards and talked about the news, which he seemed to have on the TV in his room all day long. I didn’t know if he was trying to stay part of the world or if he was hoping that the monotonous repetition of the same stories over and over again would help his memory.

  One day the billing department lady caught me on the way out. I stopped and sighed, thinking to myself “this is why I shouldn’t visit during business hours.” Luke caught up to us just as she was reminding me about the problem with that month’s bill. Yeah, thanks, lady. I’m aware of the problem. I just smiled tightly and made promises I wasn’t sure I could keep.

  My whole body collapsed on itself once we got in the car outside. Luke had gotten used to having the car, it seemed, and it followed him around like a teenage fan girl.

  “What was that about?” he asked as I rested my head back on the seat.

  “Facilities like that are expensive.”

  There were two new lines between his thick eyebrows, like little frown marks. Above them, his short-buzzed hair was growing out into a soft honey-colored mess on his head. His tan had faded a little, making his blue eyes stand out more—except when he narrowed them, as he did now.

  “I thought he was covered by insurance.”

  I shook my head, not wanting to go into all the details of how badly my dad had mangled both our futures. Medicaid would have put him in an understaffed institution somewhere outside of the city, which I didn’t want. Though now, I might have to consider it.

  Luke put his arm around me and hugged me to his side. It was warm enough now for him to just wear a shirt most days—and the golf shirt he wore today exposed his tattoos.

  I stroked his forearms as they formed a protective cage around me. “What are these for?” I asked.

  “Mostly I use them for picking things up.”

  “Not your arms!” I smacked his wrist playfully. “These.” I traced over the lines of one of the designs with my forefinger until I felt him shudder.

  “Different things. Some I got because I was stupid or drunk, or both. Some I got because I wanted to remember my mom. Some I got just because.” He nuzzled his face into my hair. “Did you ever want to get one?” There was no need for him to ask if I had any, since he’d meticulously explored every inch of my skin and come up blank.

  “Not really. By the time I was old enough to really consider it, I couldn’t afford it. And needles scare me.”

  “I didn’t think anything scared you.” He kissed my ear.

  I changed the subject. “How much longer do you think you’ll need me?”

  His embrace loosened. Luke pulled back a little to look at me, but I didn’t meet his gaze. “Sick of me?”

  My heart sped up, and I toyed with my seatbelt to stop my hands from shaking. “I didn’t say that. I just wondered if there was going to be a contract extension with Cohen. The board meeting is in a few weeks.”

  “Alexis…” He dropped his arms completely, shifting more over to his side of the back seat. “I don’t know what Cohen is doing. I gotta admit; I’m doing okay right now. Better than I thought I would.”

  Better than I thought he would, too.

  He let out a short, surprised chuckle. “Yeah, a hell of a lot better,” he repeated, almost to himself.

  My stomach flipped. “So you don’t need me, then.” God knew my bank account needed Lucas Knox. And I didn’t want to need him, myself. I didn’t want to need anyone, but more days than not, my body, heart and soul could definitely find a use for the man beside me.

  He turned to me, but I studiously studied the traffic outside the window instead. I was already living hand to mouth, my privacy and pride preventing me from letting him know just how dire the situation was getting.

  “I need you, Lexi,” he said quietly. Professionally or personally? He didn’t say, and I was afraid to ask. “Goddamn, I need you. Do you need me?”

  I nodded, blinking back tears as I stared blindly out the window. I’d never seen so much of Manhattan as I had in the past couple of months, looking out this car window in order to avoid looking inside myself.

  “I’ll talk to Cohen,” he said after a long, awkward pause.

  I didn’t want to ask Cohen for money. Been there, done that, and I sure didn’t want him to know that I needed rescuing again. What I wanted were more clients, not a charitable handout. But wasn’t that what I was getting with Luke already? Hadn’t Cohen called me out of pity and some long-lost sense of obligation or guilt?

  Impulsively, I hit the switch on the door to lower the window. The spring air, which was the very opposite of fresh and verdant in Manhattan, blew into my face and began to dry the tears on my cheeks. Inhaling sharply, I swiped my fingers under my eyes and turned back to Luke with a wide, fake smile on my face.

  “It’s okay, Lex. I’ll take care of you.”

  No! I wanted to yell. Self-rescuing princess here! I don’t need you! I don’t need any man! But I bit my lip and held it in, knowing that it was not only rude but also untrue. I felt about two inches tall, even though I was really only an inch or two shorter than Luke when I had high heels on.

  His hands went to my face, his thumbs brushing across from my nose to my cheekbones. Every time he touched me, the simultaneous sensations of being soothed and electrified never failed to surprise me. Needing more, needing him, I leaned over and kissed him.

  He teased my lips with his tongue, slipping inside only briefly as his mouth moved over mine. His kiss was hungry but not ravenous, and it boosted my spirits instead of taking my breath away. As he linked his pinky finger with mine, it occurred to me that maybe I did need Luke Knox.

  Chapter Eleven

  Luke

  I’d made mistakes before. Shit, I’d made a lot of mistakes. I’d never made a mistake like this one, though, but I knew that I would have to fix it—as soon as I knew what it was.

  “What is that?” Lexi pointed, her face red and her voice icy.

  The towel around her was slipping just enough to make me gulp, her wet hair dripping onto—and into—her open handbag on the bedside table. I loved that she had her own side of the bed in my suite. It should have freaked me out since I’d never had a relationship long enough to call “sides.”

  “What?” I blinked, but honestly—there was only so much innocence a guy like me could fake. My mom used to tell me that I came out of th
e womb smirking.

  I’d left her lingering in the shower, and was already half-dressed in my monkey suit to go to some stupid benefit. My starched white shirt was open, but not even the awesome power of my naked chest could distract her.

  On the bed between us sat a big box with a dress in it. After I’d browbeat her into coming to this thing with me, I realized that my Party Girl probably didn’t have a lot of party clothes anymore. So, I called Cohen, and he called a personal shopper. She called me, asked me a bunch of questions, then texted me pictures of three different dresses, and I picked one. Done, done, done. Spending money was easier, the more you had.

  In my humble opinion, I deserved a big old pat on the back for my thoughtfulness and efficiency. The winner sat on my bed right now, and Lexi was looking at it like it was a big, old rattlesnake. That pat on the back I was kind of expecting might soon be a fist to the mouth, from her expression.

  “You don’t like it?”

  My taste wasn’t that bad, was it? I’d picked the least revealing of the dresses, as I figured there was a better chance that I wouldn’t rip it off her in the car on the way to the thousand-dollar-a-plate dinner. The sparkly black thing on the bed was still sexy as fuck, though. I couldn’t wait to see her in it, dressed up from head to toe—

  Dammit! Maybe she was upset that I hadn’t thought about shoes or a purse?

  “Like what?” she shouted.

  Now I was just plain confused. “The dress. I got you a dress.”

  Her eyes settled on the box, widening more.

  “It’s a gift?” I said.

  She was speechless, her mouth opening and closing wordlessly as she stared at me. I wondered if it would help if I just stripped off my shirt completely. Dropping her towel, she muttered something before stepping into her panties. She said, uh, something else as she pulled the gown out of the box and held it up.