Hard Flip: A Billionaire Romance (Ridden Hard Book 1)

by Allyson Lindt

  Why is turning to him a problem?

  Because... The answer that had been right there for days didn’t come.

  He’s only offering because he’s a nice guy.

  There it was. She hated her brain.

  He nodded toward his SUV. “I’ll give you a ride. We can have someone tow your car in the morning.”

  She was too drained to argue, or even remember why she was supposed to, so she smiled. “Thanks.”

  They drove in silence. Not the comfortable kind. The stifling, heavy, she struggled to breathe kind. “How’s work?” she blurted out. That should be a safe topic. It was for her. Tristan sent her an email full of praise earlier. The bright spot in her day—acknowledgment for a job well done.

  “It’s... complicated.”

  So much for a safe topic. But now she was curious. “How so?”

  “Remember how you said the other day that maybe the best way to spit in Ralph’s face was to give one of the buildings on that block to Victoria?”

  “I was pissed off.” She couldn’t believe out of all the things she’d spewed that night, that he remembered that one.

  He glanced at her. “I think you were right.”

  “You can’t. I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

  “Stop.” His sharp tone caught her off-guard. “Stop taking the blame for things that aren’t your fault.”

  “Sorry.” Heat flooded her face, and she sank in her seat. “For being sorry?”

  He gave a choked laugh. “You’re not forcing me to do this. I gave it a lot of thought, and I’m working with Tristan to gather the funds. As soon as he realizes I’m not off my rocker.”

  She was about to cost him everything. No. She couldn’t think like that. The pit of guilt would devour her, but he was right—she didn’t force him into anything. She swallowed the sinking feeling, and ignored the gnawing. “What did he say about... Never mind.”

  “No. Tell me, or don’t start the thought at all.” Coaxing mixed with Mischa’s growl.

  “What did he say about the crowdfunding part of the idea?”

  “What?”

  “The other night, when we were fighting...” She hesitated. Screw it. Doubt be damned. He wouldn’t be asking if he wasn’t interested. “I said give her a building, and crowdfund the cost.”

  “People don’t pay into a crowdfunding campaign if they aren’t getting something in return.” Despite the argument, he glanced at her while they waited at a light, thoughtfulness lingering in his gaze. “Will they?”

  “For charity. Victoria raises the money, on behalf of the foundation, and you put your name behind it. Say something like, whatever she doesn’t raise, you’ll pay the difference.” Ash was making this up as she went along, but it sounded good.

  “And people will do this for the warm fuzzies?”

  “You would.”

  He turned down a new street. “Apparently, that’s a personality flaw.”

  She wouldn’t argue. She brought a reaction like that on herself. The thought didn’t come with the same self-loathing as before, though. It was what it was, and now was her chance to shift. As long as she hadn’t pushed things too hard. It was easier to think in the positive, when her brain was chewing on a solution to anything. “You’ll offer something in return. Incentives of some sort.”

  “Like.”

  “Signed photos? Kelly loved that you signed her board.” An ache twinged inside at the reminder of her sister.

  “Fuck. That’s it.”

  The exclamation caught her off-guard. “What is?”

  “How many offers did you get on that board I gave her?”

  “Half a dozen I guess... Oh.” She felt like a lightbulb went off over her head. Custom boards as the incentive. If he was putting his name behind a fundraiser anyway, that was the perfect addition.

  He grinned. That sexy, intoxicating expression that usually blurred her thoughts. Tonight, it made everything clearer. Sharper. “We’ll set a cap, or something. Donate a certain amount...” he said.

  “Or be one of the top five.”

  “Exactly.”

  She grasped the thread of giddiness running through her and clung to it for all she was worth. “I love it. What can I do?”

  “Have you ever set up a site like that before? For donations?”

  “No.”

  “But you can learn.” He sounded so certain.

  “Probably.”

  Mischa pulled into the driveway in front of the house, parked, and shut off the engine. He turned to face her, excitement dancing in his eyes. “Now I just have to sell Tristan on it.” His enthusiasm was infectious.

  “I’ll start research tonight.” She needed something to do to keep her hands and brain busy anyway, until she had answers about Kelly.

  “Grab your laptop and bring it down to my office. We’ll pound it out together.”

  Her snicker slipped out before she could stop it. He raised his eyebrows.

  “Habit. And sometimes the mind of a twelve-year-old.” She bit her bottom lip.

  He kissed the tip of her nose. “You didn’t apologize.”

  Heat flooded her cheeks. “I’m not sorry.”

  “Good.”

  This wasn’t supposed to feel like this—incredible—but it did. She could ignore it later. Right now, they had work to do, and she wasn’t letting something lousy like self-doubt ruin their momentum.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  WHEN ASH CAME BACK downstairs, laptop tucked under her arm, Mischa didn’t miss the way she was wiggling her fingers inside her cast, a faint wince on her face.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  “Fingers get cramped, trying to type with this thing on. But I’m good.”

  He grabbed a notepad off his desk and nodded toward the living room. “Fuck it, we don’t need the computers. We’re brainstorming.”

  “I’m fine, really.” Despite her assurance, she set her laptop unopened on the coffee table. She settled onto the couch, keeping a cushion between them, and sat cross-legged, letting her turn sideways to face him.

  For the next several hours, they tossed out ideas, nixing some and elaborating on others. Somewhere in the middle of it all, he ordered pizza.

  Ash’s enthusiasm was infectious. Even when she was doing something as simple as giggling while she stole a piece of pepperoni from his plate. And the way she held his gaze, eyes bright and playful, when she licked her fingers clean... It did wicked things to his imagination.

  He refused to think beyond tonight, but he was going to enjoy everything about now. The connection. The inspiration. All of it.

  As they finished eating, there were still three slices left in the box. A whisper of disappointment slid in when he realized those should be Kelly’s. Ash’s frown said she had a similar thought. She closed the lid, and shoved the leftovers to the far end of the coffee table.

  “What next?” The light in her voice wasn’t as natural this time.

  He’d rather not linger on things they couldn’t fix tonight. If he could resolve the Kelly situation right now, he’d drop everything to make it happen. He couldn’t do that tonight, but there was a victory they could claim. “I think we’re solid on the plan. As much as we can be, unless you can think of anything we missed.”

  “Nope. I’ll set up the fundraising this weekend.”

  “I do have a favor to ask. It’ll be tough, but pretty, pretty please?” He batted his eyelashes.

  Her laugh was worth the antic. “I can’t say no when you ask like that. What’s up?”

  “I want to tell Victoria tomorrow, and show her the building. And I’d like you to go with me.”

  “Why?”

  “It was your idea. You deserve the credit.” There was more to it than that. It was another chance to have Ash around. Not that he needed an excuse to spend time with her. “Besides, tell me there’s not at least a little part of you that likes the idea of her being indebted to you.”

  Ash was relaxing again. �
�I do like the way that sounds. All right. What else?”

  “The hard part.”

  “Considering the difficulty of what we’ve already covered, I don’t like the sound of that.”

  “It won’t be that bad. Well, it might be.” He still needed the cash now, for the building, because their plan would take more than the couple of weeks he had left to pay off Wolfram. He grabbed his phone, dialed Tristan’s number, and put the device on speaker, between them.

  “Hey, man. You got your head on straight yet?” Tristan said.

  “Depends on who you ask. You have a minute for us?”

  There was a pause. “Us? You and whoever else is listening to me on speaker phone?”

  “Hi.” Ash’s greeting was sweet and soft.

  Might as well get this over with. “We have a plan.” Mischa told him.

  Tristan sighed. “What kind of plan?”

  “Buy me ou—”

  “That’s not a new plan.” Tristan cut him off. “You were supposed to think about it long enough to realize it’s a bad idea.”

  “I did think about it.”

  “Ash?” Tristan said. “Tell me you’re a voice of reason in this.”

  She shrugged, and glanced at Mischa. “I guess that depends on how you define reason. I mean... even I can see Mischa doesn’t like his job.”

  Another sigh from Tristan, and pause. Mischa realized he was holding his breath and exhaled.

  “All right.” Tristan finally spoke. “I’ll buy.”

  “Fuck yes.” Mischa didn’t expect the rush of relief, and couldn’t hide it in his response.

  “My answer was supposed to make you reconsider.” Amusement mingled with Tristan’s flat tone. “I’ll get us a contract tomorrow, to make things official.”

  Mischa felt like a giant weight had been lifted from his chest. “You wanna go with us to show Victoria the new place tomorrow?”

  “Definitely not.” Any goodwill vanished from Tristan’s voice. “She’s your problem.”

  Mischa expected a no, but not with so much venom behind it. He’d have to get the full story later on what happened with Victoria. “No worries. I’ve got it.”

  “Tell me, no hesitation, that this is what you really want,” Tristan said.

  “No hesitation.”

  “I’ll talk to you in the morning.” Tristan disconnected.

  It was going to happen. There was still an underlying hum of what if this is a huge fucking mistake, but it was background noise. Mischa couldn’t remember the last time he felt this good, overall. Walking away from the DM contract. That was a big one.

  He met Ash’s gaze.

  Watching her stand in the rain, laughing, the night they met. Kissing her while the storm raged around them. That had been better. The realization hit him harder than a faceplant off a rail.

  She bit her bottom lip and looked away. “What?”

  “I’m thinking we need to celebrate.”

  “Like champagne?”

  “I had something else in mind.” There was no storm tonight—unless he wanted to get metaphorical, and he really didn’t—but one high plus another must be twice as good. If this was a single moment in time, they should make the most of it.

  He placed a finger under her chin to raise her head, so he could memorize the flash of passion in the blue of her eyes. “Something more intimate.” He brushed his lips over hers, lightly enough to tempt.

  “Oh.”

  Her breathy voice added fuel to the surge inside. He kissed her hard, diving into the softness of her mouth, the sweetness of her gasps, and the heat that flowed between them. He dropped his hands to her hips, and tried to shift her into his lap without breaking away.

  She pulled back, pink brightening the freckles on her cheeks. “This doesn’t fix or change anything between us.”

  Fucking logic. No, it was okay. He knew it didn’t, and she wasn’t leaving, despite the words. “I don’t care.” He didn’t believe it any more when he said it aloud, than when he played it on repeat in his head.

  “It’s an outlet, right?” Her voice was thick, and he swore he heard a catch in her words.

  He nipped her bottom lip, tiny nibbles, trailing up her jaw. “Exactly,” he whispered, before sliding his tongue along the curve of her ear. Just an outlet. They could sink into now and everything else would wait until they resurfaced.

  This time when he tugged, she complied, straddling his legs and draping her arms over his shoulders. The rough weave of her cast bit into his skin. When she settled her weight against him, warmth teased his cock through denim, and his pelvis jerked involuntarily, to get closer.

  He cupped her face between his hands, drawing his thumbs along her cheeks. “Fuck, you’re stunning.”

  “You keep saying things like that, you’ll spoil a girl.”

  “Good. You deserve it.” He dove into the kiss, leaving everything but them—now—in the background.

  He yanked her shirt over her head, and pushed one breast free from her bra. She made the most delicious noises and faces when he played with her nipples, and he swore he could spend hours just doing that.

  Not tonight, though. A frantic need surged inside, made stronger every time she twisted against him, all-but rubbing him raw through his jeans.

  He gripped her hips hard, and she whimpered when he dug his thumbs in. “You’re making me feel like a teenager again,” he warned.

  “You say that like it’s a bad thing.” She looked pleased with herself.

  “It is. Because I swear to God, if you don’t stop squirming, I’m won’t hold out long enough to get my pants off.”

  “Fine.” Her huff didn’t hold any power, especially not with the smirk dancing on her lips. She tugged the bottom of his shirt, and he pulled it over his head. She settled her bad arm back down, and the plaster of her cast was rough against his skin.

  It was as enticing as the way she traced lazy lines along his tattoos. He swore sparks glided from her fingertips to ignite his skin.

  When she dipped her head to kiss along his chest, and dragged a thumb over his nipple, he realized that was just as irresistible as her grinding. She rested her full weight against him. Her heat was enthralling. Her teasing smile was intoxicating.

  He gripped her hips tighter, and pushed her back. “You need to stand up.”

  He groaned at the shift in pressure, but it wasn’t the release he needed. Especially when he took her in. The curve of her breasts leading down to her waist. Her pale skin vanishing under her clothing.

  The combination of bashfulness and playful confidence as she watched him, as if looking for a cue.

  His dick strained against his jeans, threatening to pop his zipper. He undid her pants and shoved the rest of her clothes to the floor.

  She leaned in, one hand on his shoulder to support her weight, and kissed down his chest, lowering herself as she moved.

  He knew what she could do with that mouth if she wrapped her full lips around his cock, and fuck if he didn’t like that memory. Then again, he liked everything about her. This woman was in his head and under his skin and had set up shop in his heart, and he couldn’t get rid of her.

  She scraped her teeth lightly over the bulge in his slacks, and he bucked in response.

  “No.” He pulled her to her feet. “Not tonight, though so help me, I love the way you suck me off.”

  “Then what next?” Her pout was playful.

  And there was the woman he adored. Tonight they’d broken past what kept them apart, and he didn’t know how long she’d let those walls stay down, but he was addicted to what lay underneath.

  He unzipped his jeans and worked his cock free. He barely had enough presence of mind left to pull a condom from his wallet and roll it on.

  “I need to be buried inside you.” He had to be closer. To lose himself in her. This was an intensity he hadn’t dealt with before, and it was better than any rush he’d sought out in the past. This felt real. Sustainable.

  She s
traddled his legs, hovering close enough he could slide along her slit, but not lowering herself.

  “No more teasing.” He growled. Gripping her hips, he thrust up, letting out a long groan when he plunged inside her.

  Her whimper short-circuited his thoughts. He set a fast pace, slamming against her, unable to slow down.

  “Slide your finger between your legs,” he ordered. “I want to watch. Make yourself come while I’m inside you.”

  She dipped her hand down, the tips of her fingers brushing his shaft before she glided back up. Her tiny moans, lidded eyes, and the way she tilted her head back, stole more of his reason.

  When she clenched around his cock, coming hard and squeezing him with spasms, it shattered whatever he’d held back.

  He slid hard into climax, ecstasy shredding him. Tearing shouts from his throat. Leaving him hoarse and spent as he emptied himself, then slowed to a stop.

  She buried her face in his chest, her breath falling against his skin in tantalizing puffs. “I should get to bed.” Disappointment hung in her voice. “Busy day tomorrow and all that.”

  “No.” His response came out gruffer than he intended. If he let her leave, if they broke this spell to go their separate ways, this bubble keeping away the outside world would vanish.

  She’d be gone.

  Which was ridiculous. She already was. But when she said, “Okay. I’ll stay,” it was easier to pretend there was nothing keeping them apart.

  He extracted himself long enough to strip off the rest of his clothes, then dropped onto the couch again and pulled her in tight.

  There was no conversation, beyond a few murmurs, as he lay down and tugged her into him.

  Unlike the last time they settled on the couch like this, Ash didn’t fidget. Within a few minutes she drifted off.

  Mischa didn’t have the same luck. His mind raced over everything, trying to sort what was into compartments that matched what should be.

  He loved Ash. He couldn’t ignore it anymore. Not because she needed to be protected—though he’d destroy anyone who hurt her, and that included Ralph Wolfram—but because she was Ash.

  He didn’t know if he could make her see it, though. And that was where he was fucked. Truly and completely.