The Billionaire Bachelor (Billionaire Bad Boys Book 1) (16 page)

“Is this a guilt trip?” she snapped. He didn’t acknowledge her interruption. He’d worked hard for what he had—what he was practically handing her—and refused to let her off the hook so easily.

“At the end of your time served,” he bit out, “you will have the hotel I purchased at market value free and clear. What more could you have possibly asked for?” He hadn’t pegged her for a gold digger but damn. What fucking else?

She wrestled on her panties, her movements jerky, the towel slipping slightly and giving him a view of one luscious thigh.

“What else, indeed?” she grumbled, her voice wavering the slightest bit. “That’s all there is to life, isn’t there?” She speared him with those red eyes again.

“That about covers it,” he answered.

“What about family?” Her eyebrows lifted and dropped. She took a step closer to him. “Emotional connection?”

Cold sweat prickled along his shirt collar.

“Sex. Closeness. A night spent in someone’s arms instead of being alone.” With each example, she came closer. Until she was standing in front of him, chin elevated, holding his eyes unwavering.

Closeness.

If there was one thing he was not capable of giving, it was friendship. He’d buy her the moon. He’d fuck her silly. But that kind of closeness wasn’t up for grabs. Not even in exchange for the coveted CEO of Crane Hotels. Not for anything.

“I’m just tired.” She retreated and wrestled into a T-shirt without flashing him, then dropped the towel, exposing her legs briefly before she jammed them into a pair of long, stretchy pants. “Never mind.”

“Never mind,” he repeated as she bumped past him. “Is that like
fine
?” Because as he’d learned,
fine
was bad.
Never mind
didn’t sound much better.

She shot him a confused look before climbing into bed and snatching a book off the nightstand. “I’ll probably read a little, then call Lorelei. I need someone to talk to.” She looked up after opening the book in the middle. “Apparently that’s not in my
contract
. Do I need to go elsewhere or will you be leaving this room soon?”

Oh, hell no.

He stalked to the bed, took the book from her hand, and tossed it onto the couch that had been his bed for the last few weeks, but of course she’d ignored that sacrifice on his part.

“Hey!” she protested.

He bent over her, hands fisted on the bed at either side of her gorgeous, hidden body. “Who do you think you’re talking to,
Mrs. Crane
?”

Her eyes flared, but not from anger and not from fear. From lust so thick he could taste it on his tongue.

“Will sex fix it?” he asked.

She looked infuriated, then slightly chagrined.

“Will it?” he demanded.

“Of course not,” she murmured, unable to look anywhere but at his mouth.

He leaned closer, then a little closer, until his lips pressed hers. He slanted his mouth, but gently, giving her every opportunity to shove him away. To tell him no.

She did neither.

Instead, she reached for the back of his neck and tugged him close, until he was forced to shift his weight or lose his balance.

Hand under her ass, he moved her to the center of the bed, pressing every hardening inch of his body against every giving inch of hers.

“I made you cry,” he said when he pulled away. Her fingers threaded into the back of his hair.

“Yes,” she whispered.

“I don’t like that I made you cry.”

“So don’t do it again.” She laid the softest kiss on his mouth. “Sex might not fix it, but it’s worth a shot.”

The hold on his libido slipped.

“God, I want you.” He tightened his grip on her ass.

“Then take me.” She fisted his shirt and dragged him closer. Seconds later, his tie was tossed aside, the buttons undone one by one.

He continued moving his tongue against hers, tasting the salt from her tears and the heady, spicy flavor of her mouth. She smelled of shampoo and soap and all he wanted to do was bury his nose between her thighs and absolutely devour her. He didn’t know how to fix her hurts deep down, but he knew how to make her forget them for now. And so far, she was willing to concede that point.

He’d take it.

But this wasn’t just for her. No, there was a selfish part of him that needed her to cover his deep hurts as well. Forget what led them to this point, what would be waiting for him when it was over. His need for her was unlike any he’d felt before.

He was a starving man, and she was his feast.

This is crazy.

This is crazy.

But the words were drowned by the pulsating demands of her body. Reese was turning her inside out. She needed what he was offering. She needed to be taken, kissed hard, held down, fucked until she was begging for it.

Her emotions couldn’t be trusted in his care, this she knew, but her body…her body was a different story. Reese Crane was an expert—knew exactly what a woman wanted, what a woman needed. She happened to be a wanting, needing woman.

He lifted her shirt over her head, his talented mouth closing over her nipple. Her hands dug into his hair, anchoring herself to him. Where before she was filled with despair and loneliness, now she was filled with longing and anticipation.

So much better.

He reached between her legs and cupped her sex and let her nipple go with a subtle
pop
. “Hot.”

“Wet,” she returned on a breath. Being hidden away with him here, having a shared secret…she liked it way more than she should. It was indulgent in the best possible way.

His lips met hers again, the rough scrape of his jaw welcome. She parted her legs where he was still touching her while she explored the planes of his muscled, bare chest. His golden skin, an army of abdominal muscles, and the scant trail of hair arrowing straight for the part of him she wanted to see most of all.

She cupped the erection straining his suit pants and he grunted, increasing the friction of his hand between her legs. She squirmed, all but coming on the spot—with her top off and her pants on.

“Not yet, you don’t.” The playful side of him intrigued her and only made her want him more. “Wait for me.”

She wanted to wait. She wanted him inside her before she allowed her control to ebb, her body to uncoil. Given the buzz in her limbs, her orgasm would be all-consuming and she wanted to consume him with it.

She was tired of doing things alone.

Quickly, she unthreaded his belt, and when she reached for his zipper, he grunted a warning. “Careful.”

She went slowly, unzipping as she slipped her other hand into his pants to protect his bare skin from the angry metal teeth. He was hard and heavy against her palm.

“Reese’s rocket,” she said against his mouth. His eyes closed, robbing her of the pleasure simmering there. “In the flesh.”

His eyes opened. “What am I going to do with you, Merina?”

“I think you know.”

Proving he did, his mouth dropped to hers briefly, then he was up, peeling off his clothes and yanking open the nightstand drawer on the opposite side of the bed. Merina kicked out of her yoga pants, eyes on the gold foil packet between Reese’s teeth.

The promise of what was to come rattled her nerves and set her aflame. Maybe she was wrong earlier. Sex with him might fix everything after all.

Panties off, she tossed them to the floor. Reese rolled the condom on, stroking himself once more, twice more. She bit down on her bottom lip, her eyes on those coveted inches wrapped in his strong fist. He depressed the bed with a knee and came to her.

“Say yes, Merina.” Her name rolled off his tongue, his deep timbre seducing her ears. He parted her legs with one knee and settled between her thighs.

At the same time the word
yes
hissed from between her teeth, he buried himself to the hilt. Every. Last. Inch.

She crossed her ankles at his back, holding him close. With powerful thrusts he plunged into her again and again. This need had been vibrating between them for the last few weeks—hell, maybe the last month. The attraction between them had always an inferno they’d tried futilely to keep from lighting.

Pity. Because this was damn good.

One hand at her lower back, he canted her hips and pushed into her again. Her eyelids slid shut as a moan of encouragement eked from her throat.

“Finally,” he said through labored breaths. Then he smiled, inordinately pleased with himself. “Found it.”

“We’ll see,” she lied. Because he had. Each sharp thrust pinged an innermost part of her, snapping another thread on her control.

“Give it to me, Merina,” he demanded, still working, still thrusting.

“Not until…” Droves of tingles ran a race from her toes to her face. “…you.”

“Ladies first. I insist.” He drew out slowly before driving into her, and a sharp cry of pleasure came from her parted lips.

They had sex the same way they fought, fighting to maintain control as long as possible. But just as the thought came that she wouldn’t let him win this battle, she surrendered. Another thrust and her back arched, an orgasm rocking her. He followed, surrendering with her, his groans of pleasure loud in her ears.

Lights exploded behind her eyes and part of her registered that she was being
loud
. Which Reese probably ate up with a spoon.
Egomaniac.
Even that snide thought couldn’t erase the buoyancy that overtook her chest, the pleasant blankness that covered her mind, the feeling of being a part of someone else—the closeness she’d mentioned earlier.

Seconds, minutes—hell, who knew how long—passed before she opened her eyes, feeling as if she’d surfaced from a drugged haze. Reese was propped on his elbows over her, eyes hooded, breathing heavy. From inside her, his cock pulsed. She gave him a squeeze.

It drew a smile to his brilliantly handsome face. “You know a few tricks.”

She smiled back at him, unable to keep from it.

“That”—he kissed the tip of her nose—“was a good idea.”

Merina hummed. It really was. The feeling of lost and lonely had been replaced with light and happy. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt this way and could stand to feel it much more often. Reese Crane, as she’d assumed, was dynamite in the sack.

Not that she’d tell him that. Though he looked like he might already know.

“No bragging.” She pressed a finger to his lips. He nipped her fingertip.

“No need.” He drew out of her, taking her sated groan with him, and he chuckled. “Your body tells me everything I need to know.”

There was a thought. Her body was giving away her secrets without her having to say them. Which made sex a bad idea. She rolled to face him as he slipped out of bed.

“Don’t worry.” He winked. “I won’t tell.”

She picked up a pillow and tossed it at his naked ass, burying her smile in her elbow, because watching his backside clench and release as he paced to the bathroom was a sight she’d not soon forget.

T
he board members ambled from the conference room table, and as per their usual, Alex, Reese, and Tag stayed behind. Alex filled his coffee mug to the brim then lifted and dropped the newspaper onto the table. “Subtle.”

“I thought it was nice.” Tag shrugged one massive shoulder. The “nice” headline he was referring to was in a Chicago socialite magazine. Not exactly the
Trib
but anyone who cared about gossip paid attention to
Elegant Elite
. They were the ones who started photographing Reese with his dates at every charity and dinner function, and they’d mentioned #
ReesesRocket
on their Twitter feed several times last week. The headline
HONEYMOON’S ON!
was definitely a step up.

“It’s flashy,” Alex told Reese.

“Penelope assures me turning the media will convince the board.”

Alex grunted.

“Tomorrow night’s the retirement party,” Reese said. “They’ll see then.” Reese didn’t think anyone would suspect he and Merina were anything but in love after they’d blown each other’s minds in bed last night. This morning had been as peaceful as monks. Shared orgasms had put some slack into the tension between them. Getting along behind the scenes was bound to make it easier to parade around in public.

Always productive after sex, he’d typically excuse himself to his office, but when he’d come out of the bathroom, his wife had beat him to it. Merina was up, dressed in her stretchy pants and T-shirt again, and pulling on a pair of sneakers.

“Thanks for the recharge, Crane.” She’d grinned. “I have monthly reports to review.”

Then she was off, wiggling her round, delicious ass away from him and into the office down the hall. He retreated to his own office but concentration wasn’t as smooth as usual. Typically sex freed his brain and he could work, but last night, his mind kept returning to the wonder that was Merina’s face during sex. The neat little pleat between her golden brown eyebrows. The parting of her pink mouth when she blew out a ragged breath of enjoyment. Her normally smooth, tamed hair a wild mess over the pillow, a few strands thrown over half her face while she writhed.

Incredible.

Fingers snapped in front of Reese’s face and he blinked to see Tag’s surly expression and their father standing to leave.

“Anyway, I’m off,” Alex declared. Only after he’d gone did Tag speak.

“You fucking did it. You had sex with Merina.”

“She’s my wife.” Reese pushed his chair away from the conference room table unable to hide a very wide, very proud grin. He buttoned his jacket and Tag stood with him.

“Proud of you, Clip.” Tag nodded his approval, using an old nickname.

Clip
was short for
paperclip
, and Tag had started in on Reese the day he put on his first suit. Being teasingly labeled as the pencil pusher back in his twenties had irked Reese, and Tag had been happy to needle him. Now the title held no venom.

“Careful,” Tag continued. “Girls get attached. They want more.”

“Thank you, Tag. I’m sure as a man who has perfected the hookup and breakup, you have loads of advice.” Reese lifted an eyebrow.

“Hey, I’m just looking out for you. There is a reason Dad is still single.”

“Because he’s focused on work,” Reese said.

“And there’s a reason you’ve had Bobbie send flowers and a note of cease and desist to every date you’ve had since Gwyneth…” Tag trailed off. “Sorry.”

“Relax.” He put a palm on his brother’s shoulder. Mom had been a worrier. Tag came by it honestly. “This marriage has an expiration date. When it’s over, so is the sex. Merina understands that.”

Not only had they sweated out their problems in bed, but she’d also hopped up and went right to work afterward. She hadn’t been clingy or emotional, and was no longer crying in the shower, so he was glad about that. She more than understood what was between them, and Reese was happy to let her use him physically.

“There are always strings,” Tag said, genuine worry fusing his features into a mask. “Once you’re crowned CEO, she might not appreciate you blowing her off.”

“She’s making out like a bandit, Tag.” Reese pulled the office door open. “Her hotel will be in her name, free and clear. She couldn’t care less about my position at Crane save for the fact it’s getting her what she wants.”

The second it was out of his mouth, a niggle of doubt reared in the back of his head. Was that true? Merina wasn’t cold or calculating, and she’d put her personal reputation on the line to help him reach his goal. Marrying him was a great sacrifice on her part.

Despite his doubts, Reese said, “I’m sure of it.”

“You deserve to be CEO.” Tag stepped out of the office door, his voice just above a whisper. “Just…make sure you don’t get too attached to your ‘wife.’”

“I know what I’m doing.” Reese stared Tag in the eye until his brother ran a hand through his long hair and sighed his exasperation.

“I know you do.” Tag nodded and started down the hall, Reese behind him. Before they crossed the threshold into the foyer, he turned to give one last harbinger of what was to come. “And, Clip?”

Reese stopped.

“You can fuck her. But don’t fuck her over. She’s not one of your one-nighters.”

On that, they agreed. Merina was something else entirely.

Merina stopped advancing across the hotel lobby when she heard her name. She turned to find Arnold’s kind, smiling face.

“Your cards came.” He lifted one from the business card holder on the front desk.

She plucked the card from his fingers. There, beneath the Van Heusen’s regal gold Phoenix logo, was her name. Her
new
name.

Seeing her new last name in black and white made her palms sweat. Somehow that business card made things more official than her marriage certificate.

Because you had sex with him.

Yeah, well, she refused to feel guilty about that. Already, three people pointed out how nice she looked today, one of them her bar manager who’d commented, “Marriage looks good on you, Merina.”

If they were in this together, they may as well enjoy themselves.

“Thank you, Arnold. I didn’t even think to change the cards.” Especially since she’d change them back in a few months.

“You have your mother to thank.” After a long pause, she returned the card but before she could leave, he spoke again. “I always wondered how different marriage was for women than men.” His smile turned wistful. “My wife had to leave her family and move to my house. Change her name to my last name. And let me tell you, she was not excited about becoming a Woodcock.” A deep, warm chuckle reverberated from his chest.

She laughed with him and faced the desk. He rarely spoke of his wife. If he had a story to tell about her, Merina wanted to hear it.

“Adeline was a strong woman, but she was old-fashioned. She said that things were supposed to be like that according to God. A woman submitting to her husband. Did you know that verse doesn’t mean what people think it means?”

Merina rested her elbows on the high counter, taking advantage of the quiet lobby to listen to another of Arnold’s life lessons.

“People think it means to come under someone’s control, but that’s not the translation. If a wife submits to a husband, she’s giving him a gift. She’s giving him the opportunity to be a man. Without that lesson, he won’t be strong. Instead, he will be weak and in response, she will feel as if she has to protect herself. That’s not the way it’s supposed to be.” He shook his graying head. “Just because you women can protect yourselves and be your own warriors doesn’t mean you should. Men need a chance to do that too. To protect and love you makes us better.”

“I…never thought of it that way,” she admitted. But then again, had she ever dated a man who wasn’t perfectly willing to let her handle the hard things? To let her handle
everything
? Corbin came to mind. He was definitely not the chivalrous type. He had no problem watching her work hard and taking her money.

Reese on the other hand…

Her face heated as she remembered him saying
Ladies first
in bed last night.

“Love suits you, Mrs. Crane.” Arnold smiled and handed her the business card she’d just put back. “Hang on to that.”

“Adeline was a lucky lady,” she said with a sad smile. Would she find a pure love like Adeline and Arnold had shared?

“I was lucky,” he said. “I wasn’t this man before I knew her.”

That conversation had been a nice reprieve in what turned out to be a hell of a day. Particularly her new bartender, Heather, who’d developed a fascination with a recently hired single bellman who was a consummate flirt. Several times, Merina was forced to split up their conversations and redirect them back to work.

Arnold had joked about it being “spring” and everyone being “frisky,” which made Merina smile. That theory went belly-up when her chef walked out midshift. Leonard wasn’t frisky or in love. He was pissed at his staff and the world and about a recent notice he’d received to vacate his apartment. He’d stomped out, threw his chef’s coat in the lobby, and left a string of profanities lingering in the air.

Containing that sort of shitstorm was well outside of her capabilities. Everyone loved a good story, and that drama would make for tongue-wagging fodder for weeks, maybe months to come.

By the time Reese arrived at the Van Heusen at seven, Merina was frazzled, crazed, and a bit surprised to find his presence brought comfort. She’d forgotten he’d driven her to work this morning.

“I texted you,” he said, cutting through the lobby with a long-legged gait, his eyes on her unerringly. A shiver made its way up her spine, then down. That look. That approach. It reminded her of being taken last night, the way she’d enjoyed every single second of it. She’d needed to cash in her sexual frustration and Reese had been the perfect outlet.

Sure, that’s all it was…

“Things have been nuts.” She reached for her phone and saw three texts from him.
Ready?
Followed by:
Be there in 20.
And the final:
Here. Coming in.

“Let me take you to dinner.” He came close and she tipped her head to take in his height. She couldn’t remember the last time she ate—she seemed to remember a packet of instant oatmeal sometime late morning—and had pretty much been running on coffee. Now her brain was having trouble processing, her soaring stress level not having yet begun its descent.

“Hello, Reese.” Merina’s mother strode toward them, no doubt to intervene.

“Mrs. Van Heusen.” He dipped his chin in greeting but his eyes tracked right back to Merina. “I was going to say drinks first, but you look as if you need to eat.”

“You can call me Jolie, Reese. Or Mom, I guess. Since you’re technically our son now.”

Oh my God.

“Mom.” She tried to communicate with a glare that Jolie was overstepping her bounds.

“Did you see your new business cards?” Jolie asked Merina.

“I did. Thank you.”

“Did Reese?”

Merina snatched one up and delivered it to Reese, who took it, read it, and said absolutely nothing. “He has now. I’ll just grab my things,” Merina told him, and then cupped her mother’s elbow and led her to the office.

“What are you doing?” Jolie asked.

She released her mother and grabbed her purse and packed a few files she’d need to work on at home. “I’m not sure what you’re up to, but please try and behave yourself.”

“You married him.” Jolie shrugged. “Do you not want me to be friendly?”

“Friendly, yes, but fake, no.” At that pronouncement, a ping echoed in her chest. Fake was exactly what this was. At least, on the outside. God. What a mess.

“Just because I’m not sure why you married him so quickly doesn’t mean I won’t welcome him like I would any son-in-law. We’ll be spending cookouts and holidays together for years to come.” Jolie’s smile warmed her entire face. “And maybe celebrating with grandbabies in the future.”

“Mom!” Merina nearly choked. “I just got married! We’re still finding our way around.”

“I bet you are.” Her mother elbowed her.

If only she could tell her the truth. That the only reason she’d agreed was to secure her family’s future—the Van Heusen’s future.

“I can’t do this right now. I love you. I’m going to dinner with Reese.”

“Have fun, sweetie. Love you too.”

Years to come. Grandbabies.

Oy.

The check took its sweet time coming to the table, then the valet spent precious minutes locating the car, and
then
when Reese arrived at the mansion, Magda took more of his time relaying household details he really didn’t want to hear right now.

Reason being, during dinner, Merina had leaned close and whispered, “How about a repeat of last night?”

Forgetting his steak dinner, he threw his napkin on the table and signaled the waiter for the check.

“I meant after dinner,” she’d quietly reprimanded.

Merina had eaten some of the shrimp appetizer, a salad, and a dinner roll, so he knew she wasn’t starving. Tonight, he could subsist on her alone. So his reply was a curt but heartfelt, “Fuck dinner.”

Watching her bite her lip sent fire pouring through his veins. He hadn’t had enough of her and tonight was testing his patience. As evidenced when Magda said good night. The moment she was out the door, Reese cupped the back of Merina’s head and backed her through the foyer to the staircase, his mouth on hers. He took the banister with his other hand and walked her up the stairs, refusing to unseal his mouth from hers until they were close to the bedroom.

They didn’t make it.

He pressed her against the wall, his self-control dwindling, his erection pulsing. Fingers fumbling, he managed to open two delicate buttons of her shirt before she reached up and finished the job for him, dropping it to the ground and greedily seeking his kisses.

He liked her greedy. He liked her half naked.

Burying his fingers into her hair, he reached around and flicked her bra open with the other. Then he freed her breasts, lowering his lips to taste first one nipple, then the next. The sensitive bud tightened on his tongue. He continued laving her, loving the way she writhed and the way her breath caught as he suckled her.