Billionaire on the Loose (25 page)

“Being here with you made me realize I'm not the same man I was when I left. When I was home, I had people that did everything for me. Here, I was forced to think for myself, and you helped me with that.” He gave her a faint smile. “So I'm back because I want to be more independent. I even found my own socks.”

“A big accomplishment,” she teased, but the sinking feeling had returned to her belly. So he'd come back not because of her, but because he wanted to be more independent? It was a good move for him, and she was proud . . . but at the same time, she was disappointed. She'd wanted to be the reason he returned.

“I'm going to buy a house here,” he told her. “Probably a few hours outside of the city. A couple floors, a couple acres, room for some horses. Nothing big.”

“Sounds modest,” she said sarcastically. “Only a few horses?”

He nodded. “I'm not going to have very many servants, either. I want to take care of myself. Though I've got a friend that needs work so I'll be hiring him to handle my horses, and if he has friends that need work, I imagine I'll hire them, too.”

Friends? “You're hiring friends?” Oh, god. Was that why he'd wanted to meet with her? He wanted to hire her? Agony lanced through her. If this was just to give her a job . . .

Utterly crushed
would be too light of a term.

“A homeless friend,” Loch said. “He needs help getting back on his feet but doesn't want a handout, so I'm going to employ him. I'd do the same for any of his friends, as well.”

She melted despite her worry. “That's sweet, Loch.” Despite everything, he really was a good guy. He meant well even if he went about it the wrong way sometimes. “Very thoughtful of you.”

“I'm probably going to end up spending half my time here in the States and half in Bellissime, so I'll keep a house and staff in both places.”

“That's . . . nice.” What was she supposed to say? All of this was just making her more and more sad as she came to the realization that he was probably going to offer her a job as housekeeper instead of asking her to take him back. And while she was going to need permanent work, the thought of being around him daily and not being with him? It'd kill her soul, inch by inch.

“What do you think?”

“I think it sounds . . . fine?” She spread her hands. “I think it's great that you're wanting to become more independent and take a larger role in your own future, Loch. I'm just . . . not sure what this has to do with me.”

Loch smiled and took her hand in his again, rubbing his thumb over her knuckles again. “I'm making a mess of this again, aren't I? I'm asking you because . . . well, half the time in Bellissime and half here? I want to spend all of it with you.”

The warm feeling returned, but she paused. She needed to hear the words. “In what capacity?”

He gave her a weird look. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, are you trying to hire me as a housekeeper? Because if so, I'm flattered, but I really don't think—”

He looked pained. He moved his chair a little closer to hers and leaned in, their pizza forgotten. “Taylor, I'm sorry. I guess I'm rattling on about my plans and never got to the important part.”

She waited impatiently. She wanted to hear the important part, too, damn it.

“I don't need to get married anymore,” he said in a low, husky voice as his thumb moved over her knuckles. “Alex is pregnant and the throne is secure.” He looked up and his gaze met hers again. “But I still want you. And I still want to marry you.”

Taylor sucked in a breath. “You do?”

He nodded. “For you. Because you're you. Because I love you. Not because I need a green card or someone's considering me for the throne. I don't care about any of that. I just want you in my life, by my side, in my bed.” He raised her hand to his lips. “I miss you. When I said that I didn't love you? I didn't realize at the time that I was lying. I do love you. And I miss you like you wouldn't believe.”

The tears started. Taylor sniffed. “I miss you, too.”

“Thing is, in a way, I'm kind of glad things worked out how they did.” He clasped her hand in his. “Because I had to do some growing up, and I wouldn't have realized how much you meant to me until I lost you. But . . . now that I've lost you? I feel like I'm less than whole. Like nothing makes sense anymore because I know you're out there and I don't have you in my life.” The bleak look returned to his face. “Because I didn't realize how deeply I could love a person until I'd lost them, and I fucked everything up the day you walked out the door.”

Damn it, she really was going to cry.

“Taylor. I love you. I can't say that enough. I love you and I want you back. I want you to give me another chance, Taylor. I can't promise I won't fuck up. I can't promise I won't ever hurt your feelings again. But I promise I'll love you each and every day.”

She nodded, and swiped tears from her eyes with her free hand.

“So . . . will you marry me?” Loch's beautiful face hovered near hers, close enough that if she leaned over the table, she could kiss the wonderful mouth she'd been missing for so many weeks.

“Oh, Loch . . . no.”

Anguish crossed his face. “No?”

“Not yet.” She squeezed his hand. “But I will live in sin with you again. And I'll be your girlfriend. And when I think I'm ready to get married, I'll say yes. But until then, I just want to take it easy, if that's all right.”

His smile returned. “I'm fine with that. I love you, Taylor.”

“Oh, god, I love you, too, Loch.” She did. So much.

“Also, you should know your scarf has been lying on top of your pizza for the last five minutes.”

“Don't care,” she breathed, devouring him with her eyes. “Are you still at the same hotel? Or is my apartment closer?”

Heat flared in his gaze. “Same hotel. Few blocks from here.”

“Want to go there and have nasty make-up sex?”

“I thought you'd never ask.”

They quickly cleared their table, dumping their all-but-uneaten pizza. Once out on the street, they linked hands like children and raced down the sidewalks. Loch, of course, was barely winded by the time they went the six blocks back to his hotel, but Taylor was wiped. “I think I need to take up jogging with you to work on my stamina,” she panted, using the non-greasy end of her long scarf to wipe her sweaty brow.

“I'll hold you to that,” he told her, and then dragged her into the elevator with him. Once the doors shut, he kissed her hard, holding her tightly against him, his tongue sweeping into her mouth with a fierce possessiveness that made her toes curl and her thighs tremble.

By the time they made it to his floor, Taylor was having trouble standing upright. His kiss had an edge of sweet desperation to it, and she felt the same way he did—like it had been forever since they'd been together last, and she'd die if she didn't get him naked in the next two minutes. The elevator stopped and the doors opened, and Taylor's legs wobbled as the kiss ended. “Whew,” she breathed, utterly entranced by his mouth.

The moment they stepped out of the elevator, he picked her up. “I'm staking my claim on you, Taylor Westfield.”

“Stake away,” she told him even as he tossed her over his shoulder and carried her, caveman-style, to his hotel room. She couldn't stop smiling. She wanted to sing out loud with joy, to climb the walls with happiness.

Of course, she'd settle for climbing him.

He opened the door to his hotel room and they went inside, and he didn't stop. He carried her over to the bed and as he did, she took a peek around. “Same room?”

“Same room,” he agreed, and then dumped her on the bed.

Awesome. Taylor ripped at her scarf and then her T-shirt, shucking clothing. He grabbed her capri pants and hiked them down her thighs, dragging her panties along with them. In moments, she was naked, her bra quickly following her slip-on sneakers. Then, her hands were on him, tearing at his shirt as he undid his belt and tried to strip down just as fast as she had.

“Condoms?” she asked, then almost wished she hadn't. When she'd met him, he'd casually answered that he always carried a condom with him, implying that he dated around. Had he been celibate while they were apart, or had he gone back to his tomcatting ways? She hadn't even asked, and suddenly it became important to know.

Loch hesitated. He glanced over at the bathroom, then frowned. “I don't know,” he admitted, and started to zip his pants again. “Fuck.”

“Were you . . . Did you sleep with anyone while we were apart?”

The look he gave her was appalled. “God, no. The thought of touching another woman makes me want to vomit. I don't want anyone but you.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. “I don't want you to want anyone but me, either.”

“Be right back.” He disappeared into the bathroom and she could hear him rummaging around in his toiletries, cussing under his breath.

She chuckled to herself, pleased. For once, she wasn't pissed that a condom wasn't readily at hand for sex.

“Aha!” he called out a moment later, and then returned with a worn foil packet. “I found this in the bottom of my bag.”

“Is it . . . expired? It looks like it's had a rough journey.” She giggled when he flipped over the packet and peered at the date.

“It has a whole month before it expires. Want to give it a go anyhow?”

“Fuck yes I do!” She grabbed his pants and started to undo them again. “We'll do a morning-after pill or something if we have to. I don't care. I just want you.”

“I want you, too,” he murmured, running his hands all over her body. “Fuck, I've missed you, Taylor.”

Her hands slid his pants down to his thighs and then he kicked them off, his boxers following a moment later. His shirt went flying across the room, and then he was on her, kissing her fiercely as she held the condom in her hand. His body pressed over hers and she wrapped a leg around his hips, eager. This was what she wanted. This was what she'd missed. It felt so right to be with him. So perfect.

“Condom, please,” he murmured between kisses, pressing his mouth over her neck and jaw over and over again. “If I'm not inside you in the next minute, I'm going to die.”

“Then put it on and hurry,” she told him, handing it over. Once he bent over her again, her nails went to his back and she dug them into his shoulder blades. He hissed and arched against her, face contorting. “Oh, god! Sorry,” she told him. “I just get too excited—”

“I love your little claws,” he told her, and settled his weight between her hips again, condom on. His mouth pressed against hers fiercely. “I love it when you mark me up, because I know I'm making you wild. I fucking love you and everything about you, Taylor.”

“I love you, too,” she panted, and when he stroked swiftly inside her, she cried out. Her nails dug into his skin again and she arched under him. “Love you! Love you so much.”

“Love you,” he groaned. “My Taylor. All mine.”

He thrust into her again, his movements wild, his strokes deep. And she loved it. She cried out with every push into her body, her heels digging into his backside as she encouraged him, her nails scratching joyous lines on his shoulders. And when she came, it was with the same reckless, wild abandon in which he thrust into her. He came shortly after, calling out her name as he pushed their joined bodies against the headboard with the force of their movements. The sex was brief, brutal, and utterly glorious.

Afterward, she lay under him, completely content. Her fingers trailed up and down his sweaty, perfect arm even as he pressed light, lingering little kisses on her cheek. She could lie there forever, she decided, her legs tangled with his, his cock in her, and no worries to be had, ever.

Somewhere on the floor, a phone buzzed with an incoming text.

Her gaze flicked to his. “Is that you?”

“Shouldn't be.” He moved to her ear and nibbled it, and she moaned, her pussy clenching tight around his semi-erect cock still buried inside her. “You need to get it?”

“I don't know who it'd be.” She didn't want to get up, and he was doing the most delicious things to her ear with his tongue.

“Then answer it, and come back to bed.” He nipped at her earlobe. “But be quick.”

Oh, man, would she ever. Between kisses, she detangled her body from his and reluctantly left the bed to find her phone. It was still in her pocket, somewhere in her pants on the floor, and she pulled the phone out.

Sigmund's name flashed up on her screen, and she had a moment of panic.

Sigmund: Can I play your toon tonight?

Her heart clenched with worry. No. Not when everything was going so perfect!

Sigmund: Matt invited me to a LAN party and they're hosting an
Excelsior
battle tournament at the comic shop instead of Friday Night Magic. His toon's crap so I thought maybe he could play yours for the evening. Is that ok with you?

She breathed a sigh of relief. Sig would be fine. He had friends outside of the game now. And even if he backslid, well, she couldn't be responsible for him. He had to stand on his own two feet.

Taylor: I'm fine with that as long as your mom is cool with you playing.

Sigmund: Yep. You can text her if you want. She's making snacks for me to bring to the comic shop so we have something to eat.

Taylor: Awesome! My Dragon Rider's all yours. Have fun!

Sigmund: Sweet. Thanks!

She made a screenshot of the convo and sent it to Donna, just so she was aware, and then crawled back into bed with Loch.

“Everything okay?” he asked, pressing a kiss to her shoulder.

“Everything is perfect,” she told him, tossing the phone aside to climb on top of him.

And it was. It really, really was.