All That He Loves (Volume 2 The Billionaires Seduction) (21 page)

“I’m saying I don’t think you’re a hundred percent in this, and… and I don’t want anything less than your hundred percent,” I said, my voice quavering. “So… until you decide that what you want is me… and only me… maybe… we just shouldn’t see each other.”

He rounded the bar, his face drawn, his mouth tight. He walked up to me and put his hands on either side of my head and lifted my face to look him in the eyes.

“You don’t mean that,” he whispered.

I smiled, even though the tears were spilling down my cheeks. “Honestly, if it were just me, I’d take ninety percent, or eighty percent, or even less than that… but I think if I did that, you’d just… float away, eventually. You’re an all or nothing kind of guy, Connor. You’re only interested in things a hundred percent, or nothing at all. And I don’t want to wait around until I’m nothing.”

His face was tortured as he cradled my face in his hands. “You’re
not
nothing – you could
never
be nothing – ”

“But if you can find excuses not to be with me, in a time like this, then… I kind of already am.”

He shook his head. “That’s not true – God DAMN Sebastian – ”

I put a finger to his lips, quieting him. “Don’t blame Sebastian. He’s just calling it like he sees it… which is why you trust him.”

“But I – ”

He hesitated… and never finished the sentence.

I smiled ruefully. “I love you, too. But the difference is, I can say it.”

“I can say it,” he insisted.

“So say it.”

“I love you.”

It sounded mechanical. Lifeless.

Just words.

“I’d rather you not say it until you’re ready.”

“This is just a temporary setback, Lily,” he said, lapsing into business-speak. “This is just because of the stress – it’ll go away – ”

“And I’ll be waiting for you when it does. But until then… I don’t think we should see each other.”

He withdrew his hands from my face. Now he was truly angry. “This is what you do to me when things don’t go your way?”

“This is what I do to protect myself.”

“That’s what this is, ‘protecting’ yourself?”

“You’ve already broken my heart, Connor,” I whispered. “How much more of me do you want to break?”

He was quiet for a long, long time after that.

“I don’t,” he finally said.

“Then let me go. If you still want me, then come after me. And if you don’t… let me go.”

He put his hands on my shoulders and tilted his head towards me, rested his forehead against mine in anguish.

“I
do
want you.”

“Then a little time apart won’t make any difference.”

More silence.

Finally he caressed my cheek. “That’s it? This is how you’re going to leave?”

I stared back at the sapphire depths of his eyes. “What do you want?”

“Stay with me,” he whispered. “One more night… give me one more night before you go.”

It took me forever to answer.

All the little voices in my head, everything rational and logical, screamed,
No! Leave now! Why risk getting hurt even more?

But my heart – and my body – wanted him so badly.

“…alright,” I finally agreed.

57

It was the most painful time that we made love… and also the sweetest.

He kissed me so softly, his lips barely touching my own. His hands ran down my bare shoulders and arms, encircled my waist, drew me close to him.

I kissed him back softly at first, then passionately, wanting this time to last for the rest of my life if need be.

Or at least not leave me with any regrets of holding back.

His hands caressed my bare skin as his lips kissed my ears, my neck, my chest.

My head tilted back and I moaned as he tugged down the front of my dress and kissed my breasts, caressing them, licking them, sucking at them.

He bent down and picked me up, then carried me willingly to the bedroom, where he placed me delicately on the mattress.

I reached up and fumbled with his clothes as his hands circled around me and unzipped my dress.

Our clothes were off before I knew it, and then he was beside me on the bed, his body hard and muscular, his hands warm and tender as they touched me on my belly, my thighs, between my legs.

I caressed his cock as I kissed him.

He shifted his body onto mine, and I guided him into me.

He slowly forced his way between my lips, his shaft slowly sinking into me deeper and deeper as I gasped against his mouth.

He rocked between my legs, his thickness filling me, his hands never ceasing as they glided over my breasts, my neck, my arms, my sides, my legs.

I started to cry, knowing that this could be the last time.

“Lily…” he whispered, his voice tender and full of pain.

“Don’t stop,” I whispered back, and pulled his head into the hollow of my neck.

I felt him move inside me, like he had a dozen times before, but all I could focus on was the bittersweetness of it all.

He looked at me, held my face in his hands, his lips a fraction of an inch from mine, and breathed into me, “What do you want?” as he filled me over and over, moving inside me, his hips moving against mine.

I shook my head ‘no,’ my eyes closed.

“Tell me,” he breathed, his voice no more than a whisper.

I bit my lip. I didn’t want to say.

“Tell
me,” he insisted, his hands gripping and pulling the hair at the nape of my neck.

“Tell me you love me,” I whispered back.

His hips stopped moving, and I felt him pause inside me.

“Even if you don’t mean it all the way… just… tell me you love me,” I whispered, tears spilling down my cheeks.

He kissed my lips soft, so soft.

“I love you,” he whispered.

I arched my body against his, and he began to move inside me again.

“I love you,” he whispered.

He began to move more quickly, his thickness filling me up, stroking deep inside me in places no one else had ever touched.

“I love you,” he whispered, and I almost began to believe he meant it.

My nails dug into his back, raking across his skin.

“I love you,” he whispered into my ear, kissing the earlobe.

I groaned and clutched his ass, driving him deeper inside me.

“I love you,” he whispered as he sped up, thrusting harder into me, more forcefully.

“I love you too,” I moaned as I felt him possess me, fill me, devour me.

“I love you so much,” he whispered.

I looked up, the world swimming through my tears, to see him staring deep into my eyes.

I moaned and grabbed his ass, luxuriating in its tightness and power beneath my hands, how his muscles hardened and moved as he went deep inside me, thrusting, rocking, pounding.

Pleasure and pain – sadness and loss, not physical pain – mixed together, and my tears flowed freely as I felt my orgasm build.

“Oh Lily,” he gasped as he thrust into me harder and harder. “I love you, I love you, I love you – ”

And then I was coming, my fingers digging into his flesh, trying to force him deeper into me, loving every inch of him inside me, the feeling of his arms around me, his weight bearing down on me, and I felt him explode inside me, his cock swelling and bursting, and we screamed and gasped together, his lips against mine as his thrusts finally ceased… and my bliss along with them.

“I love you,” he whispered as he nestled against me and kissed me from my neck to my lips. “I love you…”

I believed him, if only for that moment… and I whispered it back to him wholeheartedly:

“I love you, too…”

58

We lay there spooning, me luxuriating in the warmth of his skin against mine, the firm, hard planes of his muscles against my softer curves.

I tried to remember every single sensation in case I never got to feel it again.

He was pressed against my back, and my face was turned away, so he didn’t see the occasional tear that streaked my face or disappeared directly into the pillowcase. I blinked the tears away and tried to be there, in the present, and not let my sadness distract me from my last moments with him.

My last moments, at least, until he came around.

Until he decided he loved me and wanted to say it.

I allowed myself, just for the time being, to fool myself into believing it might not take that long.

Within minutes I heard the rhythm of his breathing slow down and ease into long, deep breaths. I continued to lie there, feeling his body, trying to store up every memory I could… and working myself up to do the thing I
so
didn’t want to.

Half of me wanted to fall asleep, to forget everything he’d said before we made love, to forget everything Sebastian had said, to just get up tomorrow morning and pretend like everything was fine, and just ‘ride it out.’

Maybe things would change.

Maybe they would get better.

But it was breaking my heart to know he thought I was an obligation and not a refuge. Someone to stay away from instead of someone to run to.

Even then, it took me another thirty minutes to work up the courage to do what I knew needed to be done.

I slipped out from under his arm, picked up my dress, shoes, and underwear from beside the bed, and gathered my purse and things.

I debated for a few seconds about the wisdom of kissing him goodbye, in case I woke him. But finally I lost the argument with myself.

I leaned over and kissed Connor’s lips with a touch lighter than air.

He didn’t stir.

At the bedroom door I paused and looked at him sleeping – gorgeous, wonderful, amazing – and then slowly closed the door behind me.

My feet felt like they were made of lead, it was so hard to walk away.

I dressed quietly in the main room. As I stood there looking around, remembering all the amazingly sensual things I had experienced there, and all the overpowering emotions I had felt, I burst out sobbing. For a minute I almost caved and went back in the bedroom, but Sebastian’s words kept me rooted to the spot:

You’ve got to draw a line in the sand and be prepared to stick to it.

If you don’t do anything and just stay the course, you’ve lost him already. It’s only a matter of time.

I walked over to the door and paused.

There were two bodyguards over by the elevator.

How was I going to get past them?

That was when I realized I was going to need a little help.

59

They were still out there by the elevator, the two massive guys in suits. They watched me curiously as I walked across the hall to the only other door and knocked on it softly.

It took maybe three seconds before it opened.

Sebastian was standing there, eyebrows arched in a question. Johnny was a few feet behind him, his face grave and worried.

I burst into tears.

Sebastian pulled me into the room and put his arms around me. “There, there,” he murmured. “There, there.”

After about thirty seconds I pulled away. Johnny handed me a box of tissues.

I smiled shyly at him and took a couple. “Thanks.”

“So I’m guessing it didn’t go so well,” Sebastian said.

“It didn’t go
badly,
” I said with a half-suppressed sob. “But… it pretty much went the way I thought it would.”

“You drew the line in the sand?”

“Yes.”

He nodded approvingly. “Then that’s all you can do but wait.”

I looked over at Johnny. “Sorry to keep you up. I know you must be tired.”

He shrugged and gave me a sheepish smile. “Sebastian gave me the lowdown. We, uh… we were rooting for you.”

I smiled and almost cried again. “That’s sweet. Thank you.”

“Just so you know… I love the guy, but Connor’s a real idiot sometimes.”

“Has he…” I started, but didn’t know exactly how to finish.

Johnny knew what the question was, though. “He’s been an uptight mess since we left. But he’ll come around. Once all of this cools down… he’ll come around,” he assured me.

I smiled again. I appreciated the comforting words, but part of me wasn’t so sure he was right.

“I, uh… I hate to bother you guys, but I need to get past the guards so I can get a taxi. I was afraid they might wake Connor up if I – ”

“I’m taking you,” Johnny said firmly.

“I know you have to stay here with – ”

“I’m taking you.”

I gave in. “Okay… thank you.”

Sebastian pulled out a business card and gave it to me. “You need anything – anything at all, whether it’s advice, or help, or a shoulder to cry on – give me a call.”

“I appreciate that, Sebastian, but – ”

“Did you take French or Spanish in high school, Lily?”

I frowned, not seeing what that had to do with anything. “French.”

“So you know what the difference is between
adieu
and
au revoir.

Adieu
is a contraction of
A Dieu,
or ‘until God’ – goodbye forever, until we meet the Maker.
Au revoir
, on the other hand, means ‘until we see each other again.’

“Yes,” I said.

“Then you’ll know what I mean when I say this is
au revoir,
not
adieu.

I smiled despite my tears. “Okay.”

“I’ll be in touch,” he said, and hugged me once more. “Be The One That Got Away, alright?”

“Okay,” I whispered. “Thank you.”

“It was – and is – my pleasure.”

He smiled sadly as Johnny put his arm around my shoulder and walked me out into the hall.

60

Johnny got the key from the valet, told them
he
was going to get the car, and then guided me down the ramp. When we got to the Bentley, I asked him, “Can I ride in front with you?”

He looked surprised, then smiled. “Sure.”

He opened the door for me, then circled around and got in.

We went out a different way than normal – a back entrance by the loading area for trucks and supplies. There were no paparazzi, no photographers waiting.

We drove in silence for the first few blocks, but I finally couldn’t bear it anymore.

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