Baby and the Billionaire

by Beverly Evans

  The one thing that keeps me grounded here in the moment is Ruby’s grandmother, Babs, out of the corner of my eye. Dressed in a tasteful red dress and heels just slightly too high for her age, she dances energetically and frivolously with a white feather boa. I'm certain she's not drunk, and according to Ruby and Beck, she's as healthy in mind and body as people half her age. She's just seriously feeling the music around her.

  "This is beautiful," Scarlett whispers.

  I take her hand and twirl her around in front of me, pulling her close against me.

  "Nothing compared to you," I tell her. "You put it all to shame."

  "Mmmmm," she says, pressing her lips together and wincing slightly. "You want to return a little of that cheese to the buffet? I think there's a spot open next to the gruyere."

  I laugh. Her hands come to rest on my shoulders, and we sway to the music, her smiling up at me.

  "Oh, that's how it is? You're not impressed by my sweeping you off your feet?" I ask.

  "Is that what that was?" she asks. Her hands move up around my neck, and she smiles wider before resting a kiss to my lips. "It was very romantic," she murmurs.

  "Good."

  I move us out further onto the dance floor, and our bodies pick up the rhythm of the music. Scarlett presses against me, her mouth close enough to the side of my neck for me to feel her breath trailing along my skin. Her breasts crush into my chest, pressing through the fabric of her dress toward me. My hands trail down the sides of her ribcage and into the dip of her waist before following the swell of her hips and settling on the small of her back. Her dress cuts low here, revealing delicate, smooth skin that feels enticing and intimate to brush my thumbs across.

  Even as the music speeds up around us, we stay as we are, close and tight, moving slowly. Heat intensifies between us. I want to touch her more, to kiss her, and indulge every desire for her. But those aren't moments I'm interested in sharing with everyone else gawking.

  "Have you had enough of the party?" she whispers into my ear several songs later, sending a ripple through my body that instantly makes my pants tighter.

  "Yes," I tell her.

  "Good. Let's go back to my place. I have something in mind."

  I take her hand, and we weave our way off the dance floor and sneak out of the party, hopping back into my car and heading for her house. Her hand trails up and down my thigh as I drive, and I'm afraid the windshield will steam up before I get there.

  Meatballs.

  Meatballs are what she had in mind.

  "I know we just had them the other night, but they were so good I've been craving more," she says, standing at the counter with her hands wrist-deep in meatball mixture. She's changed into low-slung lounge pants and a t-shirt that reveals just a tiny strip of her smooth back as she cooks.

  "My grandmother taught me how to make these when I was really little. I can still remember standing on the step ladder beside the counter to make sure I was tall enough and her telling me that when it comes to meat, your hands are always the best tool."

  She flashes me a look over her shoulder.

  "I'm sorry you didn't enjoy yourself at the party," I say.

  "I did," she insists. "It was just very different from what I'm used to. So luxurious and... fancy." She sighs. "Nothing makes something fancy sound trashier than calling it fancy."

  "I can promise you; there wasn't a person there who thought you didn't belong."

  She turns narrowed eyes toward me.

  "Should that be reassuring in some way?" she asks.

  "I just meant…"

  "I know what you meant. But I don't need to fit in with them. It doesn't matter to me what any of them think of me."

  "And you shouldn't," I smile. I step up behind her and put my hands on her hips. "You are exquisite."

  She leans back and kisses me.

  "I'm also starving. What kind of party only has little tiny mouthfuls of food?"

  I laugh. "I'm guessing it was meant to be sensual."

  "It was frustrating, is what it was. I'm going to finish these things and get them cooking, then find something else for us to eat."

  "We could go out," I tell her.

  "This late? In Shadow Creek? On Valentine's Day? There isn't a single space within the town limits. But I'd rather be here, anyway."

  I kiss the side of her neck again.

  "Me, too."

  I meant it then, and I mean it even more now two hours later as we sit on the floor in our spot in front of the fire. Plates of food fill the coffee table, and Scarlett's laughing in front of me. She tosses back her head, leaning back so far there's a moment I think she might fall over, then rights herself.

  "No, I'm telling you. It was bright, jack o’ lantern orange. Not some trendy earth goddess burnt sienna or something like that. This was vibrant. I don't know what they were thinking," she says through her laughter.

  "How did you possibly make that appealing to the next buyer?" I ask, picking up a piece of cheese and popping it into my mouth with a bite of meatball. She'll never believe me, but it's even better than Angelo's.

  "I didn't," she admits. "Sylvia and I went in there in the middle of the night with paint rollers and painted it white. It was still wet during the showing the next day, but the wife said the smell of wet paint has always made her think of fresh beginnings and made her excited about moving, so I guess it worked out for me."

  I shake my head.

  "You are the real estate whisperer," I chuckle. "Even when things get messed up, you manage to get these houses sold."

  Scarlett shrugs and nods in that way people do when they're trying to seem humble but know what you're saying is true.

  "Most of the time. I've been known to have houses cling to me like scrambled eggs to cast iron. They just won't go away. One of them took almost a year to sell. That drove me crazy."

  "It surprises me that the real estate market is so active in a place as small as Shadow Creek," I muse.

  She eats a piece of meatball. One of these days, maybe I'll have a meal with her that involves completely different foods. Even as the thought goes through my mind, my stomach sinks a little. I'm leaving the day after tomorrow and don't know when I'll be back. There isn't any point in thinking about anything beyond that.

  "In a lot of ways, it being so small makes the market more popular. Basic life changes make big waves in housing here. If two people already have their own homes when they get married, and they want something that is theirs to share, that's two houses to sell and another to find. People get divorced; it's the reverse. People buy up houses to have as investments or to rent as vacation houses. Tourists come and fall in love with it and want their own place to return to year after year. There were a few boom years for the population here, and those broods tend to start house shopping right around the same time."

  "Keeps you busy," I observe.

  "And I hope it does on into perpetuity," she says, holding up her glass in a toast.

  "So, this is what you want to do for the rest of your life?" I ask.

  Her eyes slide over to me.

  "Is that supposed to suggest something?" she asks.

  "No. Just curious."

  "I like Shadow Creek. It's my home, and I don't have any intentions on leaving it. I know I talk about loving new experiences and adventures, but I really believe to make adventures mean something, you have to have a steady foundation. This is my home base. I'm secure and confident here with my career, so when I do go out on adventures and see new things, they are more meaningful," she explains.

  "That makes sense," I nod.

  "Did you ever want to be anything but... whatever it is that you are?"

  I laugh. "Honestly, I don't know."

  "What do you mean you don't know?" she asks.

  "My career is what I was always groomed to do. I took over the company from my father and expanded it. There really wasn't ever any option for doing anything else, or even thinking about anything else. I'm satisfied
with what I do and don't have any deep longing or unfulfilled dreams or anything. But I guess I don't know what might have been if I'd given myself the chance to find out," I say honestly.

  "Well, you know what I know?"

  "What?"

  "That I want to break into that fudge."

  She grins, and I reach for the box sitting on the table. Lifting the lid, Scarlett reaches in with two fingers to pry out a piece of the dark chocolate fudge. She licks it off her fingers, then reaches in for more and brings it to my lips. I take her fingers into my mouth and swirl my tongue over her skin to lick away the chocolate. Even when it's gone, I linger for a moment, savoring the sweetness of her skin.

  Scarlett draws her fingers out of my mouth slowly, her eyes locked on mine. I reach into the box and take out another piece of the fudge. She parts her lips and lets me feed it to her. Tucking my finger under her chin, I guide her face toward mine and rest my mouth to hers.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Scarlett

  There is nothing hesitant or tentative in the kiss. There are no questions left, no wondering what might happen next or if this is what I want. This is exactly what I want. I've been craving Gavin all night, tasting samples of his lips and feeling his hands on my skin. It's built up until this moment, and now I can't hold back anymore.

  Our kiss deepens, and his hands move around to my back to pull me closer. Settling into his lap, I dig my fingers through his hair and hold his head steady. Our mouths move over each other intensely, urgently, but without force or demand. Our desire only encourages each other, increasing the need with every moment that passes. Gavin's tongue sweeps through my lips, touching mine and igniting a flame in my belly. In a single movement, he turns me and lays me down on my back.

  This time when he comes down over me, I feel no resistance. I'm lost in him, enveloped in his smell, his weight, his taste, his touch. All of Gavin surrounds me, and I don't want to perceive anything but what we're creating between us.

  His mouth leaves mine and trails down the side of my neck and onto my collarbone. My skin shivers as his lips nibble to the soft dip at the base of my throat, and his tongue slips out to graze across my pulse.

  His hands move along my body with confidence and precision. I feel safe and secure under his touch, knowing at any moment I could tell him to stop and he would, but that moment isn't going to come. My clothes come away in layers, but I'm so wrapped up in the way his kiss follows the flickering heat of the fire on my newly exposed skin, I'm barely aware of what's happening. It's only when I'm in nothing but my bra and panties that I start to reciprocate.

  Gavin's shirt falls from the tips of my fingers. I brush them against the muscles of his chest and stomach. His skin is warm and soft as I reach for his belt. When there's nothing but the thin fabric of our undergarments separating us, he starts to kiss his way down the center of my chest toward my stomach. My muscles shiver, jumping, and twitching with excitement and anticipation.

  Taking hold of my hips, he dips his tongue down the front of my panties just enough to lick the skin just below what has ever been seen by anyone in my skimpiest bikini.

  My thighs tighten, and a surge of arousal rushes between them. I'm trembling on the edge, not knowing what is waiting beneath me, but ready to fall. Gavin slips his hands under me and releases the clasp on my bra. It falls away from my body, and he peels it the rest of the way off. My nipples are hard, tingling as they await their turn for his attention. It takes only seconds for him to oblige. His mouth settles over one as his hand cups over the other. The taut peak of my nipple presses into his palm, creating friction that only furthers the sensations rolling through me. His tongue swirls around the other, and his teeth lightly scrape across the sensitive skin.

  I'm disappointed when he takes his mouth away, but his kiss moving back down my body makes a promise of more to come. He reaches the waistband of my panties again and kisses the fabric. The heat of his breath seeps through the fabric and touches my delicate skin. His fingers tuck into the elastic at my hips and ease my panties down as he continues to kiss and nuzzle. Soon his nose brushes my lower belly, and his breath slips through my folds.

  It's unlike anything I've ever felt, but it doesn't prepare me for the draw of his tongue through my folds. The feeling sends a shock through my body and pulls a gasp from my chest. Gavin doesn't stop. The tip of his tongue focuses on the tight bundle of nerves under my clit, and heat spreads across my skin.

  After a few masterful flicks, I don't feel like I can take much more. He gives one more lick, then takes his mouth away from me. His kiss returns to my lips, and I reach down to run my hand over the front of his trunks. The bulge of his cock is hard against my hand, and my body aches to feel him inside me. I push the fabric away to send my message.

  Gavin tosses the last garment between us aside and looks down into my face.

  "Scarlett, have you…"

  I shake my head, knowing the rest of the question and not wanting to hear it. Now is not the time for a long conversation.

  "No," I tell him. "But I want to. Right now. With you."

  My mouth meets his, and I kiss him deeply. My tongue slides into his mouth as I part my thighs. Gavin's hips nestle against mine, and I feel the tip of his cock touch my entrance. There's nothing else going through my mind. Not a single thought flickers across my consciousness as he sinks in and fills me.

  A stinging, stretching sensation pulls against my walls as my body tries to accommodate him. He starts to pull back, but I hold him closer, wanting to feel him. Soon, I relax and open up further. His hips begin to move, slowly sliding his thick length inside me.

  I can't hold back the whimpering groans that escape my lips with each thrust. Hooking one leg over his hip creates a new angle that adds a fresh wave of intense pleasure as his cock massages every deep inch of my undiscovered pussy. Sweat building across his skin, Gavin takes hold of my ass with one hand and squeezes, moving harder and faster as he holds me in place.

  I kiss every available inch of his skin, my fingernails scraping into his back. There's a wildness rolling through my blood, an unchained instinct that makes me desperate for more of him, if unsure of how to claim it.

  In a sudden movement, Gavin flips onto his back and catches me by the hips. He carefully lowers me down, so I straddle him. My head falls back, and I close my eyes, letting out a long, deep moan as he stretches me to capacity and brings the pad of his thumb to my clit. Keeping one hand pressed to my lower back to guide the movement of my hips, he rolls me against his body and massages my sensitive pearl in the same rhythm.

  Almost instantly, pressure builds throughout my body. My skin tingles and a feeling like I'm either going to explode or crush in on myself flows over me. I lift my head in time to see Gavin lick his thumb and put it back in place. That simple change is enough to push me fully over the edge.

  I scream out as all the pressure throughout my body shatters. Waves of powerful pleasure send shocks and spasms through me. Gavin clutches my hips tightly and pounds into me with a few hard thrusts before letting out a deep growl and holding me down on him hard. I feel his cock pulse and throb, meeting my convulsions until he explodes. His arms wrap tightly around me and pull me down onto him, so our mouths meet.

  We lay tangled on the floor, kissing and running our hands along each other until the fire is little but embers. Putting it out, I take Gavin's hand and guide him into my bedroom where we tuck into the bed to sleep.

  The next morning, I wake up before Gavin and slip out of bed, pausing for a moment just to look at him. He's stretched out on his stomach, the sheets and blankets pooled around his waist, showing off his chiseled back muscles. Asleep, his face is more serene, less intense and serious. I slip into the kitchen, wearing his shirt and start breakfast. I'm halfway through a platter of bacon when he steps into the room and wraps his arms around my waist. His kiss against the side of my neck means something more than it did yesterday. I reach up and rest my hand to his head for a m
oment, then turn and kiss him.

  "Good morning," he smiles.

  "Good morning. Hungry?" I ask.

  "Famished. It smells amazing."

  "Thank you. Bacon is almost done. I'll make some eggs and biscuits are in the oven. Are you interested in some gravy?"

  "Gravy?" he asks.

  I use a fork to lift several strips of perfect bacon out of the pan and onto a paper towel to drain, then turn to look at him questioningly.

  "Sausage gravy," I explain. "For your biscuits. What? What do you usually eat for breakfast?"

  "If I'm not in Shadow Creek, coffee. But my chef Olivia plies me with food like this, too," he says.

  "The hardship," I tease.

  I don't fuss with the gravy, and we sit down to eat. When he's done, Gavin helps me with the dishes, and I put them away.

  "I should probably get back," he sighs. "By now, they've likely noticed I'm missing."

  "You don't think they noticed before now?" I ask.

  "They were in their own world. They very well might not have," he replies with a laugh. "But I don't want them to worry." He reaches out and takes my hips, pulling me up against him. "Can I see you later?"

  "I have a showing today and then some paperwork to do at my office. But maybe after that," I tell him.

  "Maybe?" he asks.

  I shrug playfully, and he holds me tighter, giving me a long, deep kiss.

  "I think your chances are pretty good," I tell him. "Oh. You'll need this."

  Peeling off his shirt, I hold it out to him. Gavin's eyes travel up and down my naked body and darken. He reaches for me again, and I shake my head.

  "They're waiting for you," I say.