Hard Flip_A Billionaire Romance

by Allyson Lindt

  “It’s just you,” he said. “And fuck, you taste good.”

  She didn’t taste like much of anything, but the way he groaned, and watched her through half-closed eyes when she sucked on his finger, made the entire thing seem wicked.

  She dove in when he moved to kiss her again, her tongue dancing with his. There was a new thrill, knowing where he’d been. How incredible it felt.

  A playful desperation swelled inside. She wanted to feel him inside her. Not just his tongue or fingers. Ash tugged at his shorts again. “Now?”

  He growled as he kissed along her jaw to her neck. He sucked on the skin until it stung. She squeezed her legs together at the persistent throb.

  “Are you still wet?” he asked.

  She nodded, not sure she could speak.

  “Scoot back on the bed and lay down.”

  She did as prompted. He took a foil pack from the drawer in the nightstand. He shed his shorts, and his erection sprung free. Her hand hadn’t lied. He really was that big.

  He rolled on the condom. She couldn’t help but watch him, kneeling between her legs, the light dancing off muscle and ink and his confident smirk.

  He dragged the head of his cock along her slit, then nudged her entrance. When he thrust inside, she closed her eyes and arched her back into the feeling of being stretched out.

  “Look at me.” The command in his voice compelled her to obey.

  She locked her gaze on his. It was tempting to fall into dark brown eyes, carried on the steady motion of him sliding most of the way out of her, before plunging back in again.

  “You wanted to know what to do with your hand.” His voice had dropped an octave. “Play with yourself. I want to watch you come while I fuck you.”

  Masturbation was something she did with the lights off and the blanket pulled up high, and only on those rare occasions when she was home alone. But the way he watched her, drank her in with his gaze, was a compelling reason to agree.

  She sought out her clit, stroking while he slammed into her, faster and harder. He hit something inside that made her moan, and she pressed into herself. Orgasm was just out of reach. Her grip slipped, and she hit a new nerve.

  Climax crashed around her again, and she jerked her hand away when her tender sex protested.

  The way Mischa’s face was screwed up, lost in what she assumed were similar sensations, and the sound of his grunts was enthralling. He let out a staccato burst of groans, then shuddered to a stop.

  He dropped his forehead to her chest, as they struggled to catch their breath. It was a few minutes before he withdrew.

  A strange ache grew inside her at the absence of his touch. It was a faint whisper, but she didn’t care for it. He stripped off the condom and tossed it away. “Do you want a towel?”

  She’d never been offered that before. “Yes?”

  He wandered into the bathroom, and she heard the faucet running. He returned with a glass of water and a washcloth. She swallowed half the water in a single gulp.

  The heat of wet terrycloth between her legs made her moan. Mischa wiped away her juices.

  Every touch was so tender, she didn’t know what to do with it. When he dropped into bed next to her, and pulled her close, she didn’t resist. He covered them with the comforter. “I know it’s not a long trip back to your room, but stay here tonight?”

  She nodded and pressed closer. The feeling of skin on skin drew her toward drowsiness. She couldn’t get used to this. Not the sweetness or the intimacy. Not if it was all temporary. But so help her, she wanted to.

  Chapter Twelve

  MISCHA WAS USED TO waking up in an empty bed, but something about having Ash there was comfortable. It was enough to obliterate any of the teasing daydreams he’d entertained, and replace them with reality. The faint scent of strawberries in her shampoo, her body pressed against him, and the soft sighs she made when he kissed along the back of her neck.

  When he glided his fingers along her hip, and then lower, she shifted, grinding her ass against his erection, and giving him easy access to slide between her legs.

  It only took a little teasing, light caresses along her skin, before she was wet. He slipped between her folds, earning him a sigh.

  He adjusted her enough to slide inside, stroking her clit in time with the thrust of her hips. The way she clenched around his cock, along with her soft cries, told him when she came. That, combined with the grinding, pushed him over the edge a moment later, and he spilled inside her.

  It was fast and playful, and something he wouldn’t mind waking up to more often. He rested his forehead against her bare back. “Good morning,” he mumbled into her skin.

  “Hmm... Definitely is.”

  Something occurred to him. “Fuck.”

  “Not a good sound. Not when you say it like that.” The pout was clear in her tone.

  “Forgot a condom.”

  He expected her to go stiff against him. Freak out, or at least get upset. It didn’t reassure him when she said, “It’ll be fine.”

  “It may not be.”

  “Birth control. And you’re clean, right?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then don’t forget again.” Warning mixed with sweetness as she snuggled against him.

  Again. He liked the idea of making a habit out of this. Maybe he shouldn’t fall into it so easily, given the deadline on their relationship. “We should get up.”

  “All right.” She sounded as reluctant as he felt.

  She left for her own room, and he got ready for the day. When he got downstairs, Kelly was sitting at the breakfast bar, eating dry cereal from a box.

  “You’re out of milk,” she said. “And coffee creamer sucks with Cocoa Puffs.”

  “Oh, yeah. I don’t keep a lot of food around the house.” He didn’t think about that before.

  “I noticed.”

  “Trust me, it’s safer this way. I’d say I’m a mean cook, but you’d have to take that literally. I can murder canned soup.”

  “Lucky for you, I can prepare feasts with canned soup.” Ash’s comment startled him.

  He spun to see her standing in the doorway, hair pulled back, and looking as enticing as anyone had the right to in an over-sized shirt, and jeans.

  “Grocery shopping it is,” he said.

  “Oh. I almost forgot.” Kelly’s tone implied she hadn’t. “Some weirdo saw my Insta post and emailed me asking if he could buy my new board.”

  Ash frowned. “What did you tell him?”

  “Fuck no.”

  “Kelly.” Ash scowled.

  “What? I did. It’s mine. Besides, he only offered me two-hundred for it. I might have been polite if he gave me a real number. But the answer still would have been no.”

  The rest of Sunday passed without event, aside from assuring Ash he didn’t mind buying whatever she put in the cart. At the end of the day, it only took a tug to get her to join him in his room for another round of getting to know you.

  Monday morning, he drove them to work. It felt natural to take her hand as they walked into the office. Logic tried to say it’s just for show, but that didn’t stop him from enjoying the simple touch.

  He had her fill out new-hire paperwork, gave her the five minute orientation—everyone does their job, if you see something that needs to be done and isn’t, tell us and we’ll probably ask you to do it—and let her get to work.

  After that, he made his way to Tristan’s office to talk about a few new properties. Mischa was glad Tristan would take point on sales for these. He’d lock himself in his office and design and be happy with that.

  It was almost noon when Tristan’s phone rang. He hit the Speaker button. “Yeah?”

  “Is Mischa in there?” It was Rachel, their assistant and receptionist.

  “I’m here.”

  “There’s a Victoria Small here to see you,” Rachel said.

  Mischa exchanged glances with Tristan, who looked as surprised by the name as he was. He hadn’t seen
Victoria in years, and he was good with that. When they’d dated, she was a no-longer-teenage actress whose career was built on movies for teens, and she was struggling to break the bad girl image.

  For her, Mischa was the perfect way to do that. For him, he liked the no-expectations and live-for-the-moment aspects of the relationship. Until she fell into addiction. He stayed by her side through recovery and the depression that came after.

  Mischa stood. “I’ll be up in a few minutes.”

  “She says to tell you she’s here for both of you,” Rachel said.

  Tristan raised an eyebrow. “Would you show her back?”

  A moment later, Victoria stood in his office doorway. Objectively, she looked as stunning as ever. Olive complexion. Dark, straight hair. Eyes that could melt a person or bore holes into their soul, and full, burgundy lips.

  The desire she used to send shooting through him was gone.

  Mischa gestured to the empty chair next to him. “Have a seat.”

  He wasn’t interested in small talk. He might be more polite if she’d made an appointment, but odds were slim.

  “Vicky. What can we do for you?” Tristan was the only person who got away with calling her that. Once the relationship turned toxic, he didn’t hide his disdain for it.

  Mischa’s relationship with Victoria was serious to the point of discussing marriage. Until her depression veered to the right. She threatened his friends and family if he left her. Twisting him up in knots over how to care for her and not destroy the rest of his life. When they split, it took him a long time to reconcile that he didn’t abandon her.

  According to the media since then, it was a good decision for her, too. He took their word for it.

  She didn’t move from her spot at the door. “I have a business proposal for both of you. I’d like to take you to lunch and sell you on why you should support ASK.”

  “Away from keyboard?” Mischa asked.

  “ASK. After School Kids. It’s the charity I represent.”

  Tristan made a tsk sound with his tongue. “We’ll write a check. You could have called for that.”

  “This is a best-done-in-person request. And wining and dining won’t hurt. Besides, I saw Mischa is engaged, and I wanted to congratulate you.” She looked at him, nothing but sweetness in her expression. “I’d love to meet the lucky girl.”

  Mischa matched her pleasant mask. “I’ll introduce you now if you’d like. She’s at her desk.”

  Victoria’s smile slipped for a blink, but was back in place again so quickly Mischa wasn’t sure he registered it. “I’d love to. In fact, she should go with us.”

  “We haven’t said yes.” Tristan’s tone was flat.

  Victoria chuckled. “That’s why she needs to go with us. I’m assuming she’ll have more sympathy for the cause, mostly because she doesn’t have a pre-formed opinion about me, and she’ll help me change your minds when you turn down my offer.”

  “I’ll tell you no, now. What are we talking about?” Tristan asked.

  “Charity. For the kids.” At least she had that part of her pitch down. “The rest waits until you’re fed and in a better mood.”

  Mischa wasn’t interested in spending the afternoon with his ex, but he also didn’t like the idea of turning away a worthwhile cause. “All right. I’ll introduce you to Ash, and then we’ll go, and hear you out.”

  ASH DIDN’T KNOW THE last time she had such a carefree weekend. She worked through her Monday morning with a silly smile on her face, because every time her thoughts drifted, she thought of Mischa. Everything was so simple with him. And the sex... The memory was enough to tingle in her belly and throb between her legs.

  She probably shouldn’t be getting hooked, but he was an easy habit to fall into.

  Then he introduced her to his ex-girlfriend.

  Of course Mischa had dated someone like Victoria Small. Grace and exoticism personified, teen star, type-cast mean girl extraordinaire, and just as pretty and intimidating in person as on screen.

  And they were all going to lunch. Ash, Victoria, Mischa, and Tristan. Wonderful. Not. Ash was raised on phony smiles and not making her father look bad in front of associates. She could survive an afternoon with the sexy-as-hell woman her fake-fiancé used to date.

  Ash didn’t flinch when they were shown to their table in the high-end steak house. It didn’t matter that she was underdressed compared to the men and women wearing suits that cost more than her rent last month. Her upbringing reinforced it was all about poise around these people.

  The knowledge didn’t quiet the uncomfortable gnawing inside, but keeping her hand tucked inside Mischa’s did.

  The four of them made small talk until the food arrived, Victoria redirecting the conversation anytime one of the men tried to bring up her reason for being here.

  As the meal wound down, Victoria reached into the leather briefcase she had with her, extracted two tri-fold brochures, and handed them to Mischa and Tristan. “ASK is working toward a new community center for after school and similar programs. As you’ve already guessed, I’m soliciting local businesses for donations. If it’s a selling point, the dollar amount determines how we feature your organization on the building, but a lot of people we’ve spoken with are just happy to help.”

  It was a smooth pitch. Ash wasn’t surprised. She was familiar with the organization, though and it was also a good cause.

  “Great. Do we get a plaque or something? Happy to sign a check.” Tristan sounded bored.

  Ash didn’t care for the attitude, but after watching him interact with Victoria, she hoped it was more about the representative than the cause.

  “We’re happy to contribute. You could have guessed that. A call would have sufficed.” Mischa was more polite, but his tone was still strained.

  “It probably would have for a check. But I wanted to see you.” Her voice softened, and she bit her bottom lip.

  “Are you... flirting?” Tristan asked, disbelief in his voice. “His fiancée is sitting right here.”

  Ash gave her a tight-lipped smile and a wave. When Victoria’s gaze drifted to the inside of her wrist, Ash dropped her hand into her lap quickly. There was no way Victoria saw the scars, but that didn’t stop Ash from feeling self-conscious. And possessive. Relief whispered through her when Mischa found her hand without question.

  “You said for a check.” Mischa’s good-natured tone had vanished. “Are you looking for a donation that’s not cash?”

  “You really ruin the flow of a girl’s pitch. I should have expected that.” She clicked her nails on the table. She was stalling. Nervous.

  Ash hid a smile.

  “What are you here for?” Tristan asked.

  She met his gaze. “One of your buildings.”

  Ash would have choked on her drink if she’d been taking one, and she wasn’t the person being propositioned.

  Tristan snorted. “No.”

  Victoria was gutsy, rude, and entirely too much like the characters she used to portray. Did Mischa really go for women like that? Or maybe Ash was being judgmental and possessive.

  She didn’t realize she’d gripped his hand tighter until he squeezed back. She glanced at him and received a smile in return. It was comforting, but it didn’t silence the voice that started nagging in the back of her head, reminding her this wasn’t a real relationship.

  But the weekend they shared... There was a spark, wasn’t there? That was the kind of thing a person didn’t fake? She hated the self-doubt swelling inside, and refused to let it peek through. Not here. Not now.

  “Before you answer, let me finish my pitch,” Victoria said, despite Tristan’s refusal. “The building will bear your name. Front and center. Other contributors will see your work. Free advertising. Tax deductible. You’re welcome to come in every few years after, as you see fit, and update the look of the place.”

  “Really.” Sarcasm leaked into Tristan’s voice. “You’ll let us donate a multi-million-dollar building, and do
us the favor of letting us remodel it on a regular basis. You drive a hard deal.”

  “Did I remember to mention the bit about the donation being tax deductible?”

  Mischa shook his head. “We’re not interested at this time. We have your information, and you’ll be getting our donation once we’ve discussed an amount.” He took the bill from the waiter before Victoria could, placed his card in, and handed it back to the waiter. “Unless there’s anything else we can do for you?”

  She looked at Mischa, gaze softening. “Think about it?”

  He shook his head. “It’s not viable. We support the cause, but a building?”

  “Then that’s that. I’ve said my piece.” Victoria maintained her cool façade, but a faint furrow marred her brow.

  They finished lunch, and headed outside, to Mischa’s SUV. He held the front door open for Ash, meaning Tristan had to sit in back next to Victoria. She wondered which of them that irritated more.

  They reached the office, and Victoria broke away to head to her car. They’d only gone a few steps toward the building when she said, “Mischa, do you have a minute?”

  He gave Ash a quick kiss, and her heart skipped. It wasn’t enough to stop her from walking at a snail’s pace toward the door.

  “You still have an infatuation with pretty broken things?” Victoria’s soft words hit her back, and her stomach flipped in on itself.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Mischa’s retort was gravel-lined, with an irritation Ash hadn’t heard from him.

  She used that and the kiss to cover the sting of Victoria’s words, and headed back to her desk. She couldn’t forget what she’d heard, though.

  Pretty broken things. The phrase echoed in her head until it became a dull roar.

  “Join me in my office?” Mischa rested a hand on her shoulder.

  She jumped, startled out from her thoughts. She pasted on a grin and whirled to face him. “Sure.” That sounded casual, didn’t it?

  She shoved aside insecurities fed by old scars. Victoria was an ex for a reason. Besides, it wasn’t as if Ash and Mischa had a real relationship. The notion bubbled in her gut, and she swallowed it, as she followed Mischa.