The Billionaire Dating Game: A Romance Novel (35 page)

“Lisa?” Piers said.

I opened my eyes. His face hovered above mine, his lips a few inches from my lips.

“I want you to know how much you mean to me,” he said, his voice solemn.

“Enough to stop teasing me and get on with it?” I tugged on his arm, arching up into his body.

“See, this is why I love you.”

“I love you t—
ah
!” I hissed a breath between my teeth as Piers thrust deep, filling me with his hardness.

“What was that?” he asked teasingly.

“I love—
ohhhhh!
” His mouth sucked on the skin at my neck, and I shivered with delight as he rolled his hips into me. “That. I love that. Do it again.”

“Say please.”

“Pretty please with a cherry on top.
Ohh! Yes!
”

Piers rolled into me, sinking his stiff cock deep. I felt myself stretch and clench beneath him, and my legs wrapped around his hips. I didn’t want him to stop, that was true. I never wanted this to stop. My body rocked back and forth, urging him into a faster rhythm.

“Oh, Lisa,” he moaned. His rock hard cock slid in and out, and his muscle tensed right
there
against me, sending me up to the top of the crest. Inside, desire ripped through my nerves. I clawed at his back, wanting more. Needing more.

“Piers—Piers—”

I was there. I was almost there. His hips rolled into me, and I groaned with pleasure as I felt the warmth spool outward through my limbs. My every nerve was on fire with need. He rocked into me faster, and I clenched around his stiff cock, letting the orgasm ride up and begin to surge through me.

“Marry me,” he whispered.

“I—I—
what
?” My eyes opened wide as the words hit my ears, but I was already riding the wave of climax and it couldn’t be stopped. Piers’ blue-green eyes locked onto mine, his desire coloring his whole expression and sending me straight over the edge. And in my mind, the words shattered and swam:
Marry me
.

“Ohhhhhhhhh!”

White hot explosions wracked my body, sending fiery thrills of sensation through me. Piers moaned along with me, and I felt his orgasm hit at the same time. His cock went impossibly stiff, my core clenched and spasmed as the orgasm crashed down again and again, shuddering my whole self.

I was unable to speak until I lay back, panting, my heart still pounding from what he had just done and said to me.

“Piers—” I said breathlessly, the air in the room too hot. There was no oxygen in my lungs, but I had to talk to him. I had to know what he meant. “Piers—”

“Lisa.”

His hands cradled my face, his fingers brushing back my damp hair. He bent his head and kissed me softly, gently, only the whisper of a kiss.

“Piers, did you—are you—
what did you just ask me?”

He smiled at me.

“Are you going to give me an answer?”

“Did you just ask me to marry you?”

“Technically, I
told
you to marry me. Call me stubborn, but I don’t think I’ll take no for an answer.” He bent his head again for another kiss, but I pressed back on his chest with both hands. His skin was hot, and under my fingertips I could feel the beating of his heart.

“Piers—”

“Yes?”

“Do you mean it?”

He quirked a smile and planted his chin in one hand. With the other hand he pulled a ring out from under the cover. My mouth dropped open as he held the ring out to me.

“I mean it more than anything,” he said, sliding the ring down onto my finger.

“Oh…oh my gosh. Piers…” I stared down at my hand at the sparkling diamond.

“I’m sorry if this isn’t what you were expecting. Did you want a big proposal? A live TV screening of me going down on bended knee? I can round up the troops—”

“No,” I said, laughing. “Please, no. This is perfect.”

“Then what do you say, beautiful? Tell me you’re going to marry me.”

“I’m going to marry you.” I couldn’t keep the giddy grin off of my face. Piers caressed my cheek with his hand, as though touching something so fragile it could shatter. I turned and kissed his fingertips, laughter bubbling up through my whole body.

“Tell me you’ll spend the rest of your life with me,” he whispered.

“And then some.”

“Tell me you’ll love me forever and ever, even when I’m old and gray and have wrinkles on my dick.”

“I will love your old wrinkly dick forever,” I said through my laughter. “And what about you?”

“Me?”

“Will you love me even if I wear summer fashions in the fall and winter fashions in the spring?”

“I will,” Piers said, his face solemn.

“And will you love me even if I can’t walk down a catwalk properly?”

“I will. Hell, I’ll carry you down the damn catwalk if you want me to.”

“Will you set new records with me in every elevator we ride?”

Piers grinned.

“Now you’re talking. And I will bring you breakfast in bed on Saturdays, and send you flowers at home and at work—”

“I work from home now, Piers—”

“Then it’ll be twice as easy to do. And I’ll kiss you awake and asleep every single day we’re together.”

I smiled up into the most beautiful blue-green eyes I’d ever known.

“You
are
trying to turn me into a romantic, aren’t you?” I asked.

“Yes. Is it working?”

“I think you’re beginning to crack my cynical heart,” I said.

“Tell me what kind of wedding you want, and it’s yours. An elaborate gala? A secret elopement?”

“Something in the middle.”

“Good. Think about it today when you’re planning out Kate’s wedding.”

I shook my head in amazement. I was going to marry Piers. Piers Letocci. I laughed aloud.

“I’ll be Mrs. Letocci,” I said, swinging my legs off the side of the bed and admiring the ring on my hand. “I think I like the sound of that.”

“Don’t you let the fame get to your head,” Piers said, kissing me on my lower back. As I stood up, he gave my naked ass a swat for good measure. “Now get dressed or else I’ll have to ravish you again.”

“Is that a promise?” I teased. In response he reached out, and I darted away out of his grasp laughing.

When I came out of the bathroom, my toothbrush in my mouth, Piers had his laptop out in bed.

“Your new column is out,” Piers said, in a singsong voice.

“Don’t read it,” I warned, pulling out clothes from the dresser. It felt so strange to have my words read by someone I knew. And now that I had a regular column on the
Women’s World
website, I would get emails from friends and family who read my column every week. Not to mention Piers reading his favorite parts aloud from bed.

“I’m reading it,” Piers said.

“Don’t!”

Piers chuckled and shielded his laptop from me.

“Get dressed, future wife. I’m busy reading my favorite columnist.”

I sighed and sat on the edge of the bed to put on my socks.

“
What I Learned from Dating a Billionaire
,” Piers read.

“Please don’t.” Inside, though, my stomach twisted into a knot of anticipation. I’d been working on that article for a long time now and
Women’s World
had put my column on the front page of their site. Freelance writing was more fun and more challenging than anything else I’d ever done, but an article like this could really open up some new roads for me.

“
When I first met Piers Letocci, I didn’t recognize him
,” Piers read aloud, in his important reporter news voice.

“Please, no.” I said. “Please. Not aloud.”

Piers had recently started doing a charity podcast with Dylan. They covered inspirational news stories and investigated the most effective charity organizations. He loved it, but secretly I think he loved doing his serious reporter voice even more.

My phone rang just as Piers started into the second paragraph of my article.

“Thank God for salvation,” I said, picking up as Piers continued to read. “Emma! How’s it going?”

“Lisa? I have some good news,” she said.

“What is it?”

“The doctors just got Arlen’s last test results back.”

“And?” My breath stopped in my chest for a second as I waited for her to speak.

“It’s clear.”

“Clear? What does that—”

“Complete remission! Thanks to the donor they found during the charity drive, she’s clear of any cancer cells. They say that we’ll need to retest her again to make sure, but for now we are done with treatments! We’re so happy, aren’t we Arlen?”

I heard a gurgle through the phone.

“Oh, Emma.” My throat choked up. “That’s…that’s so wonderful.”

“What is it?” Piers asked, his arms circling me from behind.

I put the phone to my shoulder.

“Arlen’s in remission!” I said to him. His eyes widened and he mouthed
Congratulations!

“Wait—Arlen wants to say hi,” Emma said. “Arlen, say hi to aunt Lisa.”

There was a pause, and then a little girl’s voice came on the phone.

“Hiiiiiii
!”

“Hi, Arlen. You’re feeling better now, huh?”

“Um. Lah!” Her gurgling nonsense turned into a high-pitched giggle of laughter.

Such a sweet sound. I bit my lip, happy tears springing to my eyes. In the background, I could hear Emma talking to Arlen.

“Come on, Arlen. You can say hi to Aunt Lisa. Remember like we said? Aunt
Lisa
?”

“Liiii-sa.” Arlen gurgled.

I was so surprised, I nearly dropped the phone.

“Oh my gosh! She said my name! Arlen, you said my name!” I turned to Piers. “Did you hear that? She said
Lisa
!”

“Arlen, can you say Piers?” Piers asked, listening closely to the phone.

“LAH!” Arlen yelled.

“Close enough,” Piers said. “La back to you, Arlen!”

“LAH!”

“Is that Piers?” Emma said, coming back on the line. “Tell him I said hi.”

“Hi from your future brother-in-law!” Piers said. He raised my hand and planted a kiss straight on my ring. “I’m in the shower now. Love you.”

“Love you,” I said.

“What did he just say? Lisa?
Lisa?!
” Emma screeched.

“Hey, look at that. You can say my name just as well as Arlen can.”

“
Lisa!!
What did Piers just say?!”

“You heard the man.”

“Are you—he proposed to you?!”

“Yep. I haven’t decided whether I’m going to accept or not, but you know how convincing he can be.”

Piers winked and blew me a kiss from the doorway, disappearing into the bathroom.

“Oh my god! When did he propose? How did he propose? Tell me everything!”

I flushed.

“Um, I’ll tell you later.” I was going to have to make up a suitable story—most proposals aren’t R-rated, after all. Maybe I’d say he proposed in an elevator.

“Lunch today?”

“You got it. Give Arlen a big smooch from me. I’m so glad she’s better.”

“Love you, lamebutt.”

“Love you, dorkface.”

I set down the phone happily.

“Hey, future wife!” Piers poked his head out of the bathroom. “I changed my mind. Take off your clothes and come take a shower with me.”

“Do you need help scrubbing?”

“It’s an emergency. I can’t reach my penis. You’ll have to wash it for me.” He arched his eyebrow jokingly.

I laughed and glanced at the clock. I had a bit of extra time, didn’t I?

“You’re lucky your future wife is so spontaneous.”

“She’s perfect in every way,” he agreed, and ducked away. I heard the spray of the shower and the sound of Piers whistling.

Before I stood up, I glanced over at his laptop. The last page of my article was at the top of the screen.

Some of us have a billionaire for a soul mate,
I’d written,
and some of us fall in love with the pizza boy. And sometimes our soul mates are right there in front of us, hiding behind a mask. But I learned that you can’t force love to come to you. You can’t rely on a checklist, because your real soul mate might end up checking off a bunch of different boxes that you didn’t even know existed. Because no matter what you think you want, no matter what you think you need, Mr. Right can show up anywhere.

Even when you’re looking in the opposite direction.

“Future wife!” Piers called, his voice gurgling from under the shower head. “There’s too much hot water in here for one person! I’m drowning! Help!
Hel—urglglg
!”

I grinned to myself, closed the laptop, and turned around to go save my Mr. Right.

—

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The Billionaire Dating Game!

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