The Billionaire Next Door (10 page)

It had all been very glamorous…and utterly forgettable.

Tonight with Lizzie was not. Here in this Ford Taurus, with the summer air on his face and the sound of crickets in his ears and the dark night wrapped around them, this moment was totally vivid to him. He was not on social autopilot. With Lizzie…he was alive.

And he wanted more. He wanted the privacy of her apartment. He wanted to be in between her sheets. Tonight, he craved the sweetness in her, needed to be naked against her kindness. And though he was very aware that he couldn’t give anything back to her other than pleasure, he vowed to make sure that was enough for her if she let him in.

He pushed his door open. “Let’s move that kitchen table down.”

“Are you sure?” She smiled as they went up onto the porch. “It’s late. We could do it tomorrow as I’m off.”

“Won’t take long. Besides, it’ll give me some room for the boxes.”

“Oh, in that case, let’s do it.”

They went upstairs, and as she headed into the kitchen, he walked over to his duffel bag of clothes and took out his shaving kit. As he slipped a condom in his back pocket, he didn’t like the ache in his chest, but he didn’t stop himself. After all, if she told him no, he would absolutely back off.

“Sean? You coming?” she called out.

“Yeah.” He rubbed his sternum and went into the kitchen.

“This is going to be a tight squeeze.” She bent to the side and eyed the table’s girth. “The stairs aren’t that wide.”

“Don’t worry, we’ll take it slow.”

Getting the thing down the stairwell took some maneuvering, but they managed not to mash anyone’s fingers on the railing or the doorjamb into her apartment.

As they took a breather in her living room, his chest burned even more as he looked around. Everything was tidy and very clean, but thrift-shop worn: the couch had a pretty flowered blanket tucked into what undoubtedly were frayed cushions. The chair by the window had threadbare patches on the arms and was covered by a quilt. There was no TV and just one lamp. Nothing on the walls.

He thought of her purse with its worn corners.

“Sean?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

“Only a little farther.” She nodded over her shoulder. “To my kitchen?”

“Right.” He picked up his end of the table.

The kitchen was likewise sparkling from regular cleaning—hell, you could have eaten off the floor or the counters. But there was nothing around, no decorations, no extra appliances. Just the basics.

He thought of his own kitchen back in Manhattan with its Viking stove and its granite countertops and its wine fridge and its matching toaster and mixer and espresso machines. None of which he’d ever used.

“Would you like to wait to do the chairs?” she prompted, making him realize he’d been standing stock-still and saying nothing.

“Nah, let’s do them now.”

Two joint trips up and down and everything was set up in the middle of her kitchen. As Lizzie eased one of the chairs into the table, her hands lingered on its back. The furniture was well used, but she treated it as if it were precious.

“Thank you,” she said. “I’ve always eaten on the couch. Now I have a real table.”

Sean rubbed his chest again. How she shamed him with her pleasure at this gift that meant nothing to him.

“You’re welcome,” he replied, aware he’d made up his mind. “Good night, Lizzie. Sleep well.”

As he headed out of the kitchen, he glanced down the hall and saw into one of the bedrooms. It was empty, just four walls and a bare floor. He was willing to bet she only had a bed for herself.

He walked even faster toward the exit.

“Sean?”

He paused with his hand on the door and didn’t look back. “Yeah?”

As she hesitated, he guessed she was surprised he wasn’t putting a move on her.

“Ah…thank you again for dinner. That was very generous.”

Generous? The night before, he’d spent seventeen hundred dollars hosting two people at the Congress Club in Manhattan. But sure as hell, he’d enjoyed the dinner with her in Little Italy so much more.

She cleared her throat. “Maybe I can pay you back sometime.”

Now he glanced over his shoulder at her. Standing across the room from him, she was lovely in the way of a summer afternoon. Warm. Inviting. Something you missed during winter.

“Don’t worry about it,” he said and turned away.

As he closed the door behind himself, he knew if she’d been any other woman he would have stayed. But Lizzie Bond deserved better than a quick roll. And that was all he had in him.

Lizzie watched Sean walk out her door and wondered yet again if she hadn’t read him wrong. She’d been convinced he was going to kiss her, especially after he’d put his arm around her while they’d left the restaurant. She’d even figured that moving the table was just an excuse for him to come into her apartment.

But maybe she’d let her own attraction to him color her interpretation of his actions.

She sucked at dating. Or whatever tonight was.

As she locked her door, she listened to his heavy footsteps going up the stairs and then moving around above her. All things considered, it was probably better for the night to end like this. She could see herself getting attached to him and getting hurt.

It still was a letdown though.

Unsettled and vaguely depressed, she took a quick shower, turned the temperature to low on the AC unit and got into bed.

The lightning came hours later, flashing on the other side of the Venetian blinds, startling her out of sleep. As her heart rate slowed, she listened for the thunder, and after a long pause, a crack dissolved into a bass rumble.

She reached for the remote to the AC and shut the thing off so she could hear better. She’d always loved storms, especially the—

What was that?

She frowned and looked at the ceiling. An odd noise was coming from upstairs, some kind of…Well, she didn’t know what that was. She sat up, as if that would help her ears do their job, and held her breath.

There it was again. A low, uneven sound.

Slipping from bed, she walked out into her living room and got really quiet as she absorbed the sounds in the duplex.

Whatever it had been seemed to have stopped.

Except then the next burst of lightning came, and in the dead space before the thunder, she heard what had to be a moan. She opened her door, stepped into the foyer, and put her hand on the staircase’s railing. When the low, aching groan came once more, she jogged up and knocked.

“Sean?”

Thunder rolled through the house like a wrecking ball, making the walls vibrate and the darkness of the stairwell seem horror-movie oppressive. Then a hoarse yell came through the door.

She tossed out all propriety and tried the knob. As it was unlocked, she shoved hard and burst into the apartment.

Sean was on the couch, his big body contorted, his boxers twisted around his hips, one arm rigid and gripping a cushion. His head was thrown back, his neck straining, his mouth open as he breathed in ragged pulls. Next to him on the floor was the backpack full of books.

She rushed over and put her hand on his shoulder. “Sean…wake up.”

He shot out of the nightmare like a bullet from a gun, sitting up in a rush, shouting loudly. As he swiveled his head toward her, his eyes were stark wild and the moment he saw her, he cowered back, lifting both arms to cover his head as if she were going to strike him.

“No…” His voice didn’t sound at all like the one she knew. “No,please .”

“Sean?” She touched his thick bicep only to have him flinch away and tremble as lightning flickered through the room.

Another crack of thunder broke out, so loud it was as if the house next door had been struck. Both of them jumped. Then Sean dropped his arms and looked around as if he wasn’t sure what had happened.

“You had a nightmare.”

His eyes went to her face and locked on her as if he were using the sight of her to pull himself out of where he’d been. As he stared up at her, he was breathing hard, the sheen of sweat on his bare chest catching the reflection of yet more bolts of lightning.

He moved so fast, she couldn’t have pulled back if she’d wanted to. His hands clamped on either side of her face and he brought her down hard to his mouth.

He kissed her with erotic aggression, the pent-up energy in his body tunneling into her and lighting her on fire through the shifting contact of their mouths. As she gasped, his tongue shot into her mouth and he pulled her on top of him until she felt him from her collarbones to her ankles. Moving fast and hot, he devoured her, holding her with heavy hands, thrusting his hips up into her so she felt his erection.

When he pulled back, they were both panting.

“Leave now,” he said roughly. “If you’re going to.”

She should go, she really should. She’d never been with someone outside of a relationship, and she and Sean definitely didn’t have one of those.

Except this moment, this raw, incendiary moment, was too enticing to walk away from.

Sean lowered his hands and held out his arms as if wanting to make sure he wasn’t forcing her in any way. “Lizzie, make up your mind. And do it now.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to go. I’m not going to stop this—”

He was all over her in the next heartbeat, kissing her like a man possessed, like a man who was starving. His mouth and tongue devastated her, and in the back of her mind, she had some dim thought that he was very good at this, had no doubt had a lot of practice.

Her heart ached at the passing realization, but the sting didn’t linger. She refused to let it. She had him here and now and he was…on fire.

His thigh pushed between hers and his need rubbed on her lower belly, a stunning length that left her shivering. As the storm swept in and the rain came down, he stripped off her shirt and pulled her up his body so he could take one of her breasts into his mouth.

She cried out and arched her back, feeling his hands grab on to the backs of her thighs and squeeze. It was impossible to keep up with him and unthinkable to slow him down and unbearable to imagine him ever stopping. Somehow her panties disappeared, probably because he ripped the side apart.

And then he was touching her.

As she cried out, his hips surged up and he cursed in a low, desperate sound, as if the feel of her was almost too much for him. It certainly was too much for her. She shattered apart, going rigid on top of his bare chest, her body torquing wildly as she climaxed. His mouth latched onto her throat and he sucked hard as he helped her ride out the sensations, his hand between her legs keeping her going.

When it was done, she collapsed against him, her face falling into his neck. She was limp as he rolled her over and she should have been embarrassed as she lay sprawled on the couch, but she just closed her eyes in bliss.