Emotional Turmoil - Part 3 (Troubled Heart of the Billionaire)

by Sierra Rose

  It was too much for Harvey. He kissed her then. Her lips were soft, tremulous beneath his and he gathered her into his arms. It was the work of a few seconds to rid her of the bulky robe, to strip her down to her skin. She had been alone, afraid, thinking of her mortality. He needed to comfort her. He felt the pull of her sadness, her loneliness and it was too much for him to stand. His entire body was drawn to her with a physical need to provide comfort, to join with her and blot out what troubled her. Her beautiful aquamarine eyes were so bright with tears, so sorrowful and pleading. Harvey could no more have resisted her mute plea than he could have stopped breathing.

  He scooped her up in his arms, her cool naked flesh in his hands, and placed her tenderly on the bed. Harvey unfastened his cuffs, unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it to the floor. She lay back, almost helpless, on the pure white sheets, her creamy skin pebbled with goosebumps from the chill of the air conditioning. He gave a half smile as he thought of ways to warm her back up. As his gaze raked her body, he watched with satisfaction as her nipples pebbled into hardness at his searching glare. Her flesh responded to him, before he even laid a single finger on her as if she were his to command. That heady thought made him harden as he stripped off his pants. Soon he’d left a pile of Armani on the floor, and crawled onto the mattress beside her.

  She turned toward him as a flower would turn its face to the sun, seeking the warmth and life there. Huddled against his chest, she felt fragile, broken, not like the articulate, sexy powerhouse he worked with. He wrapped both muscular arms around her, unwilling to let even an inch of space exist between them. He felt her relax slowly, melt against him. Then, at once, they were kissing, the ebb and flow of their tongues a hazy, surreal heat. He was atop her, pressing her down into the soft mattress with his weight, his knee between her bare thighs. She ground against his leg, and he felt her wetness, her need against his skin.

  Caressing her cheek with his fingers, he stroked his tongue deeply into her mouth, feeling her gasp, her hands in his hair, and he thrust into her. He had meant to wait, to prime her more, bring her to the brink first, but that gasp undid him, and he had to claim her instantly. There was no more waiting. Time was too precious, and he had to bury himself within her, the tight folds of her sex closing around him, clinging wetly as he withdrew and thrust back in again. Her wetness eased his way as his thick length drove into her deeply, rocking her hips up off the bed in response.

  Bella mewed and panted against his mouth as he had her. She was completely at his mercy, ready to beg if he took his mouth from hers, if he pulled away. Harvey relished the control, but more than that, he loved driving her wild like this, making her lose control. His mind flew back to their hasty coupling in a hot air balloon, the tight space, the friction, the maddening climax. The memory, as much as her hot eager body below his, drove him over the edge before she reached her completion. He was stunned and annoyed by his too-quick orgasm.

  Determined to make it up to her, he put his hands to good use, fondling her hard nipples, kissing her neck until he felt her shivering with lust, squirming against him. He pressed his thigh between her legs again and let her ride it, grinding and humping wantonly until she shrieked with bliss, panting and whimpering as the jolts of pleasure ripped through her body, leaving her slack, glistening with sweat.

  How did they keep ending up this way? Tearing each other apart, then burning up the sheets. Years apart, and then when they met again unexpectedly, those same sparks, that same irresistible pull. Harvey knew it was clouding his judgment, knew that he could make better decisions about his life going forward, about his role with his children if he didn’t have this incredible attraction to Bella. But there was no way to separate it, no way to start disliking her, to find her repulsive or even neutral. She’d gotten under his skin back in Arizona, and he’d never quite managed to get her out of his system.

  Harvey levered up on one elbow, drinking in the sight of her, sated and flushed as she lay across the bed. He wanted her again already. Already he could feel his member twitch to life as she curled onto her side, facing away from him. It took effort to restrain himself, to keep from seizing the curve of those hips and burying himself between those thighs again. He could, in one motion, turn her onto all fours and enter her, smooth and quick, and have her gasping for release in seconds.

  He knew the effect he had on her body, knew that she was powerless to resist the sensations he could elicit from her flesh. Still, he held back. Even though he knew she would accept his invasion, knew she would be bucking her hips back against him in no time, he didn’t want to take her by surprise, didn’t want to take for granted her willingness. Part of what aroused him about Bella was her hunger for him, her blatant desire. She had never held back with him, and Harvey liked that. So she would pretend at no shyness. If she turned away, he had to expect she had a reason.

  Still, he lay there, wanting her. His palm cupped her shoulder, the one touch he would allow himself. She settled back against his hand, relaxing a bit, easing nearer to him. Harvey’s body enlivened at her slightest gesture, his arousal spiking. He could smell the salt of her sweat mingled with some faint floral whiff of shampoo or soap she had used earlier. It was a heady mix to his senses, but he had to contain himself, had to let her come to him. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he must’ve known it would be like this, the two of them in one bed, inexplicably drawn to each other. No matter the tension, the anger, the division between them, this was their common ground, where they would meet inevitably again and again.

  At least, he hoped for again and again. Because once was never enough for him, not with Bella at least. He could remember other women, other girlfriends and one night stands, women he’d been with once or twice and the spark fizzled out, an itch that had been scratched. The novelty never wore off with Bella. There was always more to discover, more that he desired despite his best intentions.

  Even now, he couldn’t scrape together enough rational thought to remember why a bed with Bella James was the very last place he ought to be. Instead, he was grateful, embarrassingly sappy and grateful to be with her, to harness a few stolen hours before reality set back in. She rolled toward him, into his arms. Harvey felt a rush of something very like happiness. It was a trick he had, which he developed at a young age because his mother was a critical woman and his twin frequently scapegoated him. Harvey could put things in a box in his mind and not think about them. This let him have dinner with his mother without remembering the cruel things she said to him. This skill also let him spend time with his brother without keeping in mind a list of wrongs. He hadn’t forgiven them exactly. He just didn’t dwell on things they’d said and done to hurt him. So he could, at this moment, hold Bella and kiss her without thinking of the years she’d hidden his children away.

  He could forget the six years with no calls, no emails, no messages. In a blink, all that was over. Harvey could forget it all in her arms, even all that she’d done to destroy him. And all that he planned to do, to destroy her right back.

  Her hands were on his shoulders and he moved above her, moved inside her, swallowed her cries. She took all of him in, screamed her ecstasy and her satisfaction until he was sure management would break down the door to see if someone was being murdered in her hotel room. Shuddering with the aftershocks of her shattering climax, she clung to him, climbing into his lap at last and riding him to his own explosive end. His hoarse shout, his arms tight around her, the scent of their sweat—all mingled together to blot out reality.

  They woke tangled up together, sometime in the early morning. She rolled away from him, and he stirred. Bella got to her feet and went to the bathroom. He heard water running, figured she was washing up, and drifted back to sleep. When he woke again, she wasn’t there. Her bag was still on the dresser, she hadn’t left without him, though the thought had crossed his mind that she might. They were forever running away and being pulled back together. He had nearly accepted it as their fate, like Sisyphus rolling that
boulder up the same hill forever.

  He showered and ordered breakfast. When she came in, flushed and in workout clothes, there were plates of eggs and bacon waiting.

  “You look stunning.”

  She smiled. “Yes, it’s me in all my morning glory. Must be that natural glow.”

  “Absolutely. How was your workout?”

  “Great. And look at this spread. Harvey, you are too wonderful to me,” she said. “Thank you so much.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “You were always good at spoiling me.”

  He winked. “And not just with breakfast…”

  “Yes, you spoiled me last night too.”

  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking about a morning quickie.”

  “I’m a hot mess, and my breath…”

  “I can always take you from behind.”

  “How about some coffee and a shower first?”

  “Morning sex is the best way to start out the day.”

  “Can’t argue with you there.”

  She gulped orange juice gratefully and sank into a chair. She picked at the eggs, inhaled the bacon, then nibbled at a triangle of toast.

  “I received a message from the Smiths,” he said. “They appreciate that we reached out to them personally and they want to give Dave a temporary power of attorney to handle the merger. It seems our trip was productive.”

  “That’s good. I know you wanted to preserve the acquisition,” she said.

  “Don’t you?”

  “What I want isn’t at issue here.”

  “Are you mad? Because I’m getting the sense that you’re mad even though I ordered you bacon.”

  “I’m not mad. My personal feelings aren’t relevant.”

  “Your feelings about the Smith Gibbons acquisition, or your feelings about me.”

  “Both.”

  “Well, if you insist. We can skip the morning sex. I’ll check us out, and we can be on our merry way.”

  She gaped at him, and he gave a half smile, “You thought I was going to demand to know your reservations about the business deal and your complicated feelings about me. The thing is, I don’t need to know either. The deal is going through, partly thanks to your efforts, and you’re being paid to help facilitate that deal. As for our personal relationship, I’m not sure where we stand. We fight. We have sex. We both claim to love each other. But we never take the next step. Maybe we’re too toxic for each other.”

  “Toxic? Is that what you’re labeling our love?”

  “I love you, but…”

  “Maybe this was a mistake,” he said cutting her off.

  “You got scared. I comforted you. We both had a good time. Now we’re going back to work.”

  “I know relationships can be tricky, but love shouldn’t hurt this bad. If this love is toxic, then maybe it’s time I break free.”

  With that, he picked up his jacket and left her sitting with a strip of bacon halfway to her mouth and nothing to say.

  Chapter 10

  Harvey had completely shut her down. She’d been ready to tell him that going ahead with the deal was insensitive to the Smiths’ situation and that they should back off. And that she wasn’t even going to bother saying she shouldn’t have slept with him because that’s what she always said, and she always did it again anyway. So she was going to tell him that it was the last time.

  They say heartache requires recovery time, but Bella didn’t believe that. It’d been years, and she never got over Harvey. She loved him, but they never seemed to work out. He saw her worth and wanted her…but he just wasn’t ready to settle down just yet. Maybe things were never meant to work between them.

  She cursed fate.

  So from now on, they had to act like adults and not horny teenagers. That they had to hammer out some kind of agreement about visitation with the children and they would have to keep their hormones in check to do so. Now she was sitting by herself with a breakfast tray and no one to flirt with. It was disconcerting.

  Bella dressed and packed, messaged with Maria about the twins. They’d eaten their breakfast well and gone to school with minimal whining. She missed them, just thinking of the way Corinne had to decorate her toaster pastry with perfect swirls of icing before she’d eat it, the way Caden would stare off into space and forget he was holding a spoonful of cereal he was supposed to be eating. She sighed. She’d see them after work. Maybe she’d skip out and pick them up from school so she could be with them sooner. She missed them so much.

  Every day they grew and changed. She felt a pang of fear that she would have to give them up for days at a time when Harvey got visitation rights. She might miss their first loose tooth, the first time they wrote their full names. He might even make her change their names to Carlson instead of James. He probably would want to do that legally. She cringed at the confusion that her babies would feel, suddenly a stranger is their father, suddenly they have new names, new schedules, new relatives. It hurt her heart that this was happening.

  She was somber and quiet on the flight home. He worked on his tablet; she stared out the window. Despite what they’d shared last night, they were no closer. No more together, no more in accord about the children or the future. She turned to him just before arrival.

  “Harvey, we need to discuss the kids. Find a time for you to meet them and discuss how we’re going to do this.”

  “Today is good.”

  “Do you have a time we could discuss this?”

  “I mean to meet them officially. It’s past time for a discussion. I’ve been patient, and you haven’t offered a time or a place. So do it today. After school. What time do they get out?”

  “They get out at three, but Caden has soccer practice from three-thirty until five…”

  “He can miss it.”

  “What? No! He loves soccer practice and the cleats I had to special order in his size finally came in so this week is his first chance to wear them.”

  “Because plastic cleats are more important than developing a relationship with the father who missed out on his first five years? Or because he’s going to be the next David Beckham and missing one practice will ruin his future career?” Harvey said sardonically.

  “No, because his routine and his well-being are more important than your little tantrum. You’re going to stand up and stomp your feet and yell mine-mine-mine and demand that they miss team practice and birthday parties and anything else that isn’t 100% about you and how you were wronged and they owe you time,” she spat back at him, “Be pissed at me. That’s fine. I deserve it, but don’t take it out on them. Don’t disrupt their lives and be a self-centered jackhole.”

  “Did you just call me a jackhole?”

  “Yes! I did. Because making your son miss his soccer practice so he can admire your brilliance is a shitty thing to do.”

  “He doesn’t even know he’s my son, Bella.”

  “I’d like to keep it that way, for the moment. You can be an old friend of mommy’s who wanted to meet them, and then we all have a few play dates together, do something fun, let them get comfortable around you and see that we get along before breaking it to them that you’re their father.”

  “And that, you know, their mother lied about me being dead. How do you plan to explain that? How was I resurrected? Are you going to tell them I was in prison or some shit to excuse yourself?”

  “No, I’m going to tell them I made a wrong choice, and I’m sorry. I’m not going to tell them I was scared you’d take them away—which is the truth—because that would equate you with something terrifying who might steal them from me. I want them to be secure and comfortable and to have a positive relationship with you.”

  “That’s the least you could do,” he harrumphed.

  “How about we meet for dinner after soccer practice? He can show you the new cleats, and Corinne can tell you how boring it was to wait for him to be done.”

  “
Are you cooking?”

  “I could. I’ve gotten much better since the last time I cooked for you. Or we could go out, or I could order in. They like Chinese.”

  “My kids? Ugh. Order me some quesadillas.”

  “Would you settle for Kung Pao Chicken?”

  “No. I would not.”

  “Then perhaps that’s where Corinne gets her diva attitude about meals.”

  “Then it’s time I gave her a quesadilla and let her try some real food.”

  “First of all, I’ve kept them alive this long, so they’re not starving. Second of all, don’t think you’re going to swoop in and buy them, like, hover boards and magic carpets and shit to win them over.”

  “Magic carpets? Did you really say that?”

  “I’m a little freaked out by all of this.”

  “I’m not the competition, Bella,” he said, “I have a right to know them and be their father. That doesn’t mean they’ll choose one of us over the other unless it comes to that in court. And from what I understand, it’s highly unlikely children of their age would be given serious weight in any testimony.”

  “That sounds disturbingly legal. Like you’ve looked into this.”

  “Any fool knows that a small child’s deposition wouldn’t be reliable,” he said dismissively as the landing gear lowered and they touched down at the airfield.

  “Right. I’ll text you with a time and meeting place.”

  “How about Mexican?” he said, his voice a little strained.

  “I just want to make you happy. So if Mexican is where you want to go, then shall be it.”

  “Thank you for compromising.”

  She pasted on a fake smile. He’d been talking to lawyers. Of course, he had. Why wouldn’t he? Because she hoped they could settle this between them, be friendly and figure out how to share the kids in a way that made them comfortable. That there wouldn’t be paperwork and court appearances and character assassination and crying in front of a judge while some highly paid attorney called her unfit. He might be trying to play nice out in front, but he was planning to take her to court. She knew it.