Selling Out to the Billionaire Page 7

  "Sorry? What do you have to be sorry about? You should be taking a victory lap. I called to say congratulations."

  The words he's saying are English, but for whatever reason, they don't make sense to me. "Huh?"

  "Conway called yesterday to put in an offer. Of course the paperwork still has to go through, but I'd optimistically say it's a done deal. What he offered was significantly above the asking price."

  Derek bought the house. Derek bought the house. Jeremy is still talking, congratulating me, telling me something about my next job, how I'll fit in well, but I'm not really hearing him. It's only his silence that prompts me to speak. "Thanks," I say automatically. "See you Monday?"

  "Monday." He agrees and clicks off.

  Derek bought the house. I'm not fired. This can't be real, can it?

  I dial Derek's cell number. It's the first time I've ever called him on this number, but I don't want to call his office. I don't want to speak to his secretary. Just him. Just his voice.

  "Derek Conway."

  I can't even say hello, only the words that are echoing in my brain. "You bought the house."

  There's a surprised silence, he didn't know it was me calling. Then, "Yes, I did."

  Leaning into the couch, I ask, "What made you change your mind?"

  "Meet me there,” he says.

  "At the house?" I blink several times. He wants to see me after I laid into him?

  "Yes." I hear the faint rumbling of street noise in the background and I realize that he's in the car. "I'll tell you what changed my mind if you meet me there."

  I rub a hand over my face. I want to see him, and I don't. After yesterday I thought I'd never want to see him again, and now I'm not so sure. Either way I have to know why he did this. "Okay," I say softly. "It may take me a while." There's no way I'm going there in this state. I need a shower and coffee and about ten pounds of make-up.

  "I'll wait," he says, without any hesitation.

  I hang up without saying goodbye, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. My life has been too much like a roller-coaster this week. I'd love it if things could just calm down. But even beneath my worry and curiosity, there's relief. He bought the house. Even if he's still an ass, I'm going to get paid. I'm not going to be homeless, I'm not going to be fired. That feels good.

  I take my time in the shower, using the hot water to clear my head and soothe my headache. It makes me feel a little better, though no one ever feels one hundred percent after that much alcohol. I do my make up, and I don't do my professional make-up. As far I'm concerned, I'm not his realtor anymore, and I'm going to show him just how hot I can look if only so I can see his face when I walk in the door.

  I choose a dress that makes me look damn good, and isn't remotely related to my career. When I'm finished and I look in the mirror, I smile. Even if I don't feel it, I look great.

  Anxiously I grab my bag and head for the door. I need to hear what he has to say, no matter what it is.

  12

  The weather today is cloudy, a possible storm brewing off the coast and making the house look ominous and foreboding. Derek's car is here, the same shiny sports car that he pulled up in at the beginning of the week. My stomach bubbles with nervousness as I approach the house and let myself in.

  I don't see Derek, but I know where he is, because an amazing smell is wafting through the house and that can only mean one thing. As I enter the kitchen, I see Derek. He's stripped out of his suitcoat, shirt open at the collar and sleeves rolled up. Plates are on one of the counters and I see the beginnings of a meal—a meal for two. It smells so good that my stomach growls, and I remember that I haven't eaten anything today. Never mind that I probably wouldn't have been able to eat this morning.

  I step further into the room, and he sees me. He immediately stops what he's doing. He turns down a burner and covers a pot, giving all his attention to me. "You made it."

  I point at the stove. "You're cooking."

  He gives me a small half-smile. "Yes, I am."

  "Well, I guess it's your house in all but name. So that's fine." I walk over to the large island, putting down my bag. "I don't understand, Derek. You said no. You said that this wasn't the house. That you didn't want it. So what happened?"

  He's silent, running his hand through his hair. I think he's trying to piece together his words, but I can't seem to stop talking. "I mean, if you were going to buy the house all along why would you put me through that? Why would you make me think I was going to lose my job? Why would you say you didn't want—"

  Derek eyes snap to mine and he crosses the distance between us, pulling me against him and kissing me. His arms come around me hard, and one of his hands tangles in my hair. His mouth is crushed against mine, and it's like liquid fire has been poured into my body.

  I open my mouth to him and he devours me with his tongue. There's so much desperation, so much longing in this kiss that it makes me ache, and when he pulls away I'm breathless. "You thought I didn't care?" he asks, and he's fighting for his breath too. "Of course I fucking care. I would never want anything bad to happen to you. Ever." He gathers himself, and he's struggling for the words. "I just knew…I knew that when I said yes and signed the paperwork that I'd never see you again."

  “What?” My mind races, connecting the dots between what he's saying and what he said yesterday.

  “You wanted your commission.” There's pain in his eyes, a kind of old and familiar hurt. “You aren't the first. Do you remember how I told you I sold my house to that charity?” My head bobs in answer. “The realtor who convinced me to do it... she told me over and over how much she wanted to be involved in the charity. How much it meant to her.” He laughs humorlessly and I feel it in my bones. “She took her money, and the day they opened the doors to celebrate, she didn't even show. Never answered my calls. She got her money and left. Just like you're going to.”

  I stare at him, ice creeping in my veins. He's holding me but it's not enough to take the edge off my unease. “One person burned you and you thought I--”

  “Not one,” he growls, “I've seen so many come and go! Fundraisers, businesses, gold diggers, even my own father...” He trails off, shutting his eyes and gathering himself. “Even if I love them, they use me and disappear.”

  A warm feeling pools in the base of my stomach, a mixture of pleasure and happiness. “Love?” I whisper. All those houses he made me show him, his reasons for saying no, all so that he could keep seeing me. I'm caught between wanting to kill him and kiss him again.

  He looks a little panicked at my silence. "Closing this deal means it's over, and I was having too much fun to want to let it end," he says.

  The laugh that bubbles up is unexpected and joyful, and suddenly I'm laughing so hard that I'm crying. Derek is looking at me like I'm crazy, and I can't stop. I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him down so I can kiss him. He kisses me back, and it feels so good to just be happy. I break out laughing again and it interrupts our kiss.

  I try to get a hold on myself so I can speak. "You mean this whole time you were giving me the run around because you thought I just wanted to make a buck off of you?”

  Derek’s face changes again, and I feel the change in his body. “If I'd told you, you would have been insulted. I've tried it a hundred different ways... no matter what I do or say, when someone wants something from me, that's all it comes down to.”

  Cupping his jaw, I rub my lips on his softly. He inhales with a groan. “Try it this way with me,” I say. “Tell me you want me. And I'll say I want you.”

  His hands find the back of my dress, unzipping me, and I work on the buttons on his shirt. I want to feel his skin on mine, and I push his shirt off his shoulders to reveal his chest.

  My dress drops to the floor as we press together. Our encounters have been so quick, so frenzied, this is the first time I've seen him without a shirt. He's beautiful, a swimmer’s body, long and lean, and I hope that I get to see him naked in the ocean outside.r />
  Part of his chest is covered in a beautiful tattoo, a tree swirling up his side and over his shoulder. Some time I'll ask him what it means. Right now I can't take the time for that. I kick off my shoes, shedding my bra and underwear as he removes his pants, and then he pulls me against him again.

  I revel in the feel of skin on skin, the first time being naked with him. His cock is hard between us and I can feel exactly what he's thinking as his tongue plunges inside my mouth. I run my hands down his back, grabbing his ass and pulling him against me. He lifts me off my feet and then we're on the floor. A shoe is pressing into my side and a zipper into my back, but I don't care. I want him inside me, and I don't want to wait.

  “Like this?” he asks. “Without a condom? I’ve been dying to feel you with nothing in between us. I’m safe. Are you on the pill?”

  I nod, and reach between us in answer. I place his cock exactly where I want it, and Derek gives it to me. He slides all the way in in a smooth stroke and I let out a groan. I'm soaked through, and the feeling of him filling me, skin to skin, has only gotten better.

  From his first stroke I'm halfway there, all my happiness and relief combining in pure need. Derek is there, too, thrusting deep and fast, and I pull him closer to kiss me. I'm lost in the sensation of his tongue and his bare cock, and my overloaded senses shatter. I come, not holding back my cries. My back arches off the floor as the orgasm rips through me, and I wrap my legs around him to keep him close. Above me, Derek is close, he pushes into me in short strokes that send me higher, keeping me dazed with pleasure and light.

  He kisses me as he comes, pushing in to the hilt in a final thrust. I feel his body shudder against mine, and I move my hips, wanting his pleasure to last as long as mine, reveling the feeling of him spilling into me. When he opens his eyes, he lets himself down beside me, and I turn to look at him. Surrounded by the remnants of our clothes in his new house, it somehow seems perfect. Derek opens his mouth, and shuts it, opens it again. "I know I don't say much," he says.

  "That's for sure," I laugh. "There were several times I wondered if you had forgotten how."

  He smiles. "So I'll say it now, like you asked. I like you. I want you. I don't want this to be the end."

  "Then it won't be." I press a gentle kiss to his lips.

  "You'll go out with me?"

  There's one more thing I have to know. "Tell me why you left that day. After you kissed me."

  "Because," he says, "When I kissed you, I realized how much I wanted you. Not just your body, but you. I wasn't expecting that... and when I thought about our contract as realtor and client ending... it terrified me. I thought I could run away to a meeting in another state and use the distance to forget you.”

  A shard of glass cuts inside my heart. “But you didn't.”

  “I couldn't,” he corrects me.

  "Same here," I say, and I wish it was more poetic. But Derek just smiles, and I hope he likes my honesty. My stomach interrupts our moment by growling. "Here's a new deal. I'll date you, if you feed me some of whatever you were cooking."

  He grabs his pants as he stands. "It's chicken—my own recipe, and rice."

  "That sounds good to me." I don't put my dress back on, instead retrieving his shirt. "But I really have to ask, do you like the house?"

  "I love this house," he says, looking at me from where he's putting rice onto the plates with the chicken. "You were right. It is perfect, and I think I'm going to be very happy here. So thank you."

  That now familiar warm glow appears low in my gut. "You’re welcome."

  "And I think that the balconies off the master suite would be perfect for this meal, don't you?"

  I think anywhere with him would be pretty perfect.

  The breeze off the Pacific was a perfect complement to the late afternoon sun, and I thoroughly enjoyed every second of relaxing on that balcony. Derek is an excellent cook, and I marvel that the media doesn't know this about him.

  He's taken the dishes back downstairs, and when comes back, I plan on a very different sort of conversation. His shirt got lost on the way to the bed, and I arrange myself across it making sure that he'll see every curve as he comes in the door.

  The look on his face when he sees me is well worth it. I give him my best seductive smile. "I thought you could have me for dessert."

  "I was going to suggest ice cream," he says, approaching the bed. "But you're right, this is far better."

  Derek crawls across the bed, and this time I do take the time to trace his tattoo and the flowers there. "Is there a story here?"

  "Yes. But I think it's better for another time." He kisses me, and I love the lazy heat that seeps into me. My body rousing as it knows what's coming. He slides down my torso and buries his face in my pussy. His mouth works across me in patterns, tongue circling my clit and diving deep inside before dragging across me again.

  He varies his touch, kissing me lightly on the clit before sucking deeply on my entrance. I feel a bite on my thigh before he moves back, covering the whole of me with his mouth. That deep and delicious pressure starts to build, I reach out for something to hold on to. I press his face deeper into me, fisting my hands in his hair, and he obliges.

  His lips close over my clit, and his tongue licks me. Over and over, a steady rhythm. My muscles begin to shake as I reach the edge of my climax, but he doesn't stop, doesn't slow. He holds my hips in place as I buck against him, seeking release from his tongue and that goddamn steady pressure.

  “Please let me come,” I beg. But no, he holds me at the precipice as I writhe on the sheets, completely consumed by this pleasure.

  And just when I think I can't take one more flick of his tongue, he sucks me deep into his mouth. The orgasm fractures across my body and my scream fills the room as he continues to feast on me.

  I feel myself flood into his mouth and he laps it up as he presses his tongue inside. He fucks me with his mouth, and I keeping coming until I'm wrung out and drained on the bed, my breath coming in gasps.

  I feel the mattress move, and I moan again as he presses his cock into me. I'm so sensitive already that I nearly come again.

  "What about you?" I manage to pant out. “Can I have you for dessert?”

  I hear the smile in his words even though my eyes are closed. "You will. Think of this as a rain check. You'll have me for dessert at some point. Whenever, and wherever, I tell you." He rocks into me, punctuating his words with his cock, and I flush at the idea of all the places he could hold me to that promise. A new surge of wetness comes from my pussy and I open my eyes. "Agreed?" he asks.

  "Agreed." He's pauses deep inside me, and he laughs a little. "What's so funny?" I ask.

  "I was just thinking I'm really happy it's Friday," he says.

  "Why?"

  "Because I don't have a meeting until Monday, so we're not leaving this house until I've fucked you through the weekend."

  My pussy clenches around his thick shaft. He kisses me roughly, pulling out and thrusting back in, pushing until we're joined at the hilt. Every word that was in my head flies away as he starts to fuck me again, and the only thing I can think is that I'll never get enough of this.

  Epilogue

  Derek

  One Month Later

  "They're so pretty, thank you." Penelope says, as she closes the box, leaning across the bed to give me a kiss. "I think this is the first time anyone's ever given me lingerie."

  "Really?" I ask. "I find that surprising. Though I can't say I'm angry that I'm the only man who's done that for you."

  She laughs, and god I'll never get tired of that sound. "Well, you have to mix up the gifts a little anyway. The candy and flowers are getting old." She gives me a wink as she puts the box of lingerie aside. It's a matching set entirely of black lace. Custom made for her—though she doesn't know that yet. Just the thought of her wearing them makes my cock ache. "I'd like you to wear them under your dress tonight."

  "Any special reason why?"

  I gri
n. "Yes. But I'm not telling you why yet." I have plans for her.

  "Fine." Pen rolls her eyes. "Be that way. What time are you picking me up?"

  "Six." I try to keep the frown off my face. I've tried to convince her to move in here to the house she sold me, but she thinks it's too soon. That we're not ready. I'll never be more ready, but if she needs time then I'll give her that. Even if she does spend more time here than she does at home.

  She finishes pinning up her hair and grabs the box off the bed. "Then I'll see you at six."

  Tonight we're going to a fundraiser at the Conway Center for Displaced Youth, housed in my former home. What makes it special is that it's Pen's first public appearance with me. After tonight the media will know who she is. She says she's prepared for it, but I'm not so sure. I'm going to make damn sure tonight is a night that she's going to remember.

  Thinking about the fundraiser makes my insides twist. Not because I don't want to do it—quite the contrary—but it's a reminder of one of the last straws that ended up making me hurt Penelope.

  The damn realtor who'd helped me sell my house... she'd been the last in a string of painful experiences. One of many who'd created a wall around my heart, keeping me from trusting that people wouldn't just use me for my money then run.

  She wasn't the first, no. I'd mentioned to Pen that my father had also contributed to my coldness... but she'd never pressed that and asked for more details. Without thinking, I touch my chest where my tattoo is. Yes. One day, I'd tell this wonderful woman how my own family had hurt me.

  I jump up and catch her before she reaches the door. Spinning her around, I kiss her in the way I know leaves her breathless and dizzy, making her mouth mine, and not letting her go. Her eyes are dazed when we pull apart. "See you at six," I say.

  Penelope nearly stumbles into the limo, and I catch her from behind. Going headlong into the car probably wouldn't make for a good first media impression, but she laughs. I help her inside and wave one last time to the cameras as we pull away.