Billionaire on the Loose (13 page)

“No wonder you're bored and talking to the likes of me.” Rex grunted and polished off his burger.

“I'm talking to you because I thought you might be interesting.”

“Because I'm homeless? Didn't see you grabbing anyone else off the streets.” The man gave Loch a shrewd look. “Bet any of those people would love to have lunch, too.”

He was ashamed to realize that Rex was right. He had been fascinated—appalled, too—by the fact that he was homeless. He said nothing.

Rex nodded at Loch's plate. “You gonna finish that?”

Loch pushed the plate toward him. “Be my guest.”

They were both quiet as Rex ate the remains of Loch's lunch. “So what's your goal here?” Rex said after a while.

“Goal?”

“With being my best buddy all of a sudden? Do you know how much you've given me in the last three days?”

Loch paused. He never paid attention. “No.”

“Two hundred and twenty-six dollars.” Rex pointed at their plates. “You know how much this cost? This lunch?”

“No?” Why did that matter?

Rex shook his head, wiped his hands with a napkin, and then pocketed a stack of them. “You keep giving me wads of money every day, and while I appreciate it, between that and the lunches, I'm just trying to figure out your angle.”

Loch stiffened. “I'm just trying to help out. Isn't that what you wanted?”

“No, I wanted money. You trying to help me or help yourself?”

That was . . . a very good question, and one Loch had no answer for.

***

The conversation with Rex was still bothering him when he returned to the hotel a short time later. Taylor waved at him and made a phone gesture with her hand, then murmured something into her headset as she typed furiously. He headed for the bathroom and took a long shower, but even after he dried off, he was still troubled.

Talking to the homeless man had been an eye-opener. Here he was, thinking he was doing some sort of great favor for the man, when Rex had totally turned it around on him. He wasn't doing a favor for Rex, he was doing something that would make himself feel better about Rex's situation. The realization was both astute and shameful. And when Rex had pointed out that Loch had no concept of money? It had just made him feel worse, like a spoiled child.

How was it that he didn't know the basic values of things? Was the bubble he lived in back home greater than he'd imagined? Was that why he was so fascinated and also horrified by Rex and his situation? Because it shone a light on his own flaws?

Loch dressed in a pair of casual slacks and a polo shirt, but couldn't find socks. He dug through his drawers of clothing, and then another when no socks turned up. Barefooted, he padded out into the living room, where Taylor was removing her headset. “Have you seen my socks?”

“No. Should I be aware of your sock location?” she teased. “Perhaps they've been taken by rabid sock monkeys?”

He frowned and headed for the coat closet at the front of the hotel room where his freshly laundered clothing was normally deposited. No socks. “Did anyone come by to get my socks?”

“I don't know.” She was watching him curiously, amusement on her face. “Are they that important?”

They weren't, but it just illustrated how much he assumed about everything in his life. That he expected something to be there, or for someone to hand him something so he wouldn't have to tax himself. And now that he was left on his own to handle things . . . he was failing miserably.

It was a rather ugly realization to have about one's self.

“Oh, wow. Are you okay? You look awfully upset over missing socks.” Taylor moved to his side, her hand stroking down his arm. “What's wrong?”

“I'm just . . . frustrated.”
Because I'm helpless and I'm just now starting to realize it.
“Sometimes I feel like I have less of a handle on even the smallest things than I'd like to think.”

To his surprise, she gave a little unhappy sigh. “Don't I know that feeling. Come on.” She took his hand in hers and tugged him toward the couch.

“Where are we going?”

“You are going to sit on the couch and I'm going to give you a nice relaxing foot rub, and we can talk about what's bothering you.”

“Are you patronizing me?”

“No, if I was patronizing you, I'd probably be making baby coos right now.” She puckered her mouth and made a few kissy faces.

He laughed despite himself and let her lead him to the couch. Once there, she grabbed his leg, sat down on the ottoman, and began to rub his bare foot.

Okay, he wasn't the type for a foot rub normally, but fuck, that felt nice. Loch's head fell back and he groaned in pleasant surprise. “How'd you guess that I needed a foot rub?”

“Um, because everyone likes a foot rub?” Her fingers worked his arch expertly, and then she smoothed her hands up and down the length of his foot in a sensation that was both soothing and decidedly erotic. “I know whenever I get super stressed, I like to go out for a pedicure. Someone rubs my feet and makes my toes look cute. It's a win-win situation.”

“Just promise me I won't end up with pink toes,” he murmured, eyes still closed so he could enjoy the full sensation of her touch.

“I only use red.”

He opened an eye to glare at her and she giggled, working her hands over his foot again. “You think you're funny, don't you?”

“I do like to think so, yeah.” She beamed at him and then dug her fingers into a particularly sensitive spot near his heel and he almost came off the couch with how good it felt. “You wanna talk about what's freaking you out?”

Loch blew out a frustrated breath. “If I say it out loud, it sounds ridiculous.”

“You're talking to a woman that spends her free time riding a digital dragon in a game and likes to wear a backpack that looks like a cat. How about you wing it past me?”

His mouth curved in a slight smile. Why was it she always managed to put him at ease, no matter the situation? He was lucky that he was going to have someone like her as his wife.
Temporary wife
, he amended a moment later. It was much easier to mentally leap in and go forward with his plan if it was just temporary. Then it didn't seem like insanity as much as gutsiness.

Of course, he had to get Taylor to agree to the marriage, and right now he couldn't even get her to kiss him, but he was working on that. Slowly.

“Spit it out,” she cajoled. “It'll make you feel better.”

He sighed. “I'm not going to get away until I do, am I?” Not that he wanted to get away. Not when her fingers were doing such magical things to his feet.

“That's right! So you might as well say.” She wiggled one of his toes. “This little piggy says spill the beans.”

Loch tugged his foot out of her grip. Undeterred, she grabbed his other foot and began to rub it. She really wasn't going to let him get away with silence, so he sucked in a breath, braced himself for her laughter, and then said it aloud. “I think . . . I think I'm rather helpless.”

Her brows furrowed, even as her fingers gently kneaded his foot. “Explain?”

“It's just that . . . I'm nearly thirty years old and I've never given any consideration to fending for myself. At home, I have a valet that picks out my clothing and handles my meetings. I have an accountant that handles my money. I have an estate manager that handles my house. I have maids. I have a cook. I have a stable hand that takes care of my horses. I have a driver. I literally do not have to do anything for myself except roll out of bed. And for nearly thirty years, I've never had a problem with this. I travel with servants who handle everything normally, but then I come here, by myself, and I'm starting to realize just how . . . sheltered a life I've been living.” He snorted. “A thirty-year-old man, sheltered. Imagine. It's sad.”

She patted his foot. “You don't have someone to wipe your ass for you. It's not that bad.”

“Might as well be.”

Taylor rolled her eyes and stood up. She moved forward and instead of sliding away, she sat on his lap, straddling him. “If you're trying to make me imagine you as some sort of big man-baby, it's not working.” She shrugged, stroking a hand down his chest. “You have money. You're privileged, that's not a lie. If I had tons of money, I'd hire people to do all that stuff for me, too.”

“The problem isn't that I let people do things for me. The problem is that I let them do
everything
for me.” But it was getting harder to focus on said problems when Taylor was determined to straddle him, her hips resting directly over his cock.

“So use your time here to assert a little independence. Buy some stupid shit. Pick out your own clothes.” A small smile curved her mouth. “Dare to go sockless.”

“I'm starting to think you don't take me seriously,” he whispered. Arousal was flooding through him, heightened by the fact that she'd been standoffish for the last week. Was his complaining going to break through the barriers between them? She was impossible to predict.

Then again, maybe he should have stopped trying to predict and started acting on his words. He wanted to convince Taylor to marry him so he could go home, and what was he doing? Moping about socks and having lunch with strangers while she poked around on her laptop. This wasn't him. Normally he was the pursuer; the confident, fearless one.

It was time to remember who he was and take control of the situation again.

So he pulled her forward and wrapped his arms around her, holding her close until she fell against his chest, her palms pressing to his shoulders. “I am normally quite the daring man.”

“You are, are you?” Her voice was a throaty purr. “I don't know if I can believe that without a demonstration.”

She was in a playful mood now. He liked that. His cock hardened in response and he slid a hand down her back until he cupped her arse. She had a delightfully rounded one that was just begging to be touched.

Instead of pushing him away, she flung her arms around his neck and began to kiss him wildly. All right, now he was getting frisky Taylor. He returned the kiss, his hands roving over her body. Her tongue flicked against his and she rocked her hips enthusiastically.

With a groan, he pushed her down onto the couch, rolling their bodies until she was pinned under him. The kiss continued, hot, wet, and deep. Her leg went around his hips and he ground his cock against her pussy, the friction mimicking all the things he'd love to do to her.

And then she put a hand to his shoulder, and her mouth pulled away from his. “Loch,” she breathed. “I can't.”

He pulled back, studying her face. Was there something going on that she just wasn't telling him? “What is it?”

Her cheeks pinked. “Nothing. I just . . . Now's not a good time.”

He frowned down at her, because the signals she was sending didn't make sense. She kissed him like she wanted him, and then two seconds later, pushed him away. No wonder he was so confused lately. “Is there someone else I should know about? Because I'm not a fan of cheating.”

Taylor's eyes widened. “What? No! Of course not!” Her hand smacked his shoulder. “I'm not a fan of cheating, either!”

He leaned in and nipped at her lower lip, and noticed that her eyes got soft with need when he did. “Then tell me what it is. You saving yourself for marriage now? Because I'll marry you.” Loch grinned down at her, almost hoping she'd be impulsive enough to take the bait.

“What?” She giggled and then shook her head. “Now you're talking crazy.”

“Am I?” He traced a finger down her cheek. “I'm just trying to figure out why, after we had such a good time the other night, you push me away like a leper every time I kiss you.”

She bit her lip, and the look on her face was . . . embarrassed? “I can't talk about it.”

“Shall I kiss you until I get it out of you?” He traced a finger around the shell of one sensitive ear and she shuddered in response, her breath catching.

“God, you don't play fair. It's that . . . the
timing
is bad.”

He gave her a blank look. “Because of work?”

Taylor smacked her forehead. “Because of my period, if you must know.”

Ahhh. Suddenly everything made sense—her weird awkwardness around him, her sudden love of baggy clothing, and the fact that she seemed to stiffen every time he pulled her against him. And while it wasn't his favorite time of the month to be with a woman, he wasn't deterred. His hand slid to her breast. “I'm game if you are.”

She made a face. “I might be crazy for saying this because you're seriously the hottest thing on the planet, but that area's off-limits for another two days or so.” Her expression was disappointed. “Which sucks.”

“It does.” Because touching her was making him horny as a schoolboy. He rubbed her erect nipple through her clothing thoughtfully. “It's truly a shame, because I like touching you.”

Her squirm of response was rather gratifying, as was the thready little moan that escaped her. “Oh, man, I like it when you touch me, too.”

That gave him the go-ahead he wanted. Loch leaned down and nipped at her chin, then began to press small kisses along her jawline, even as he continued to tease her nipple. “Then we'll just keep our clothes on and have a little bit of teasing fun?”

The little gasp of excitement she gave was delicious. “You drive a hard bargain.”

“Then I'm lucky you like hard things.”

“Mmm, do I ever.” Her hand went to his arse and she gave it a squeeze, pulling him down between her hips. “Pants stay on, everything else is fair game. Deal?”

He'd take whatever she offered. “Sounds good to me.” Then he leaned down and began to move lower, until his mouth was over one breast. “You ever come with your clothes on?”