Healing Love: A Billionaire Romance (Forever Us Book 2)

by Bianca Borell

  I place my fork on my napkin, lean in my chair, and tilt my head to her. “Say it, Emma, because work awaits.”

  “I’m sorry, it’s none of my business.” Red spreads from her cheeks to her neck, down her cleavage, and she blurts, “I’m just shocked. I mean I had no idea. I’ve heard the story of you two, but the way you both behaved . . . I never imagined.” She gestures to the flowers and note. Shaking her head, she continues, “And isn’t he engaged to your, your cousin . . . I don’t know what to believe. I’m sorry. It was in front of me, the note I mean, but I shouldn’t have I . . . looked at it,” she ends, and her head drops.

  “Breathe. I’m afraid you’ll have a panic attack. Calm down.”

  “This isn’t how I wanted to welcome you on your first day back.”

  I rise to my feet and place my hands on her shoulders. “I’m not mad at you. But I need you to be my right hand and not this scared little deer in front of me, okay?”

  “Okay.”

  We smile, and then she continues, “Let me tell you one more thing before I drop the subject.” I prop myself up in my office chair, and her eyes shine with sincerity. “I’ve worked for you for a while now. I haven’t ever seen you not even for a mini-second glowing like this. Luisa once told me she had never seen a more closed off person as Damien in her life. Even though I don’t know what happened or what’s going on between you two, I’m glad for you. You deserve to be loved and in love. For some love stories, there is a happy ending after all.”

  “Thank you. Take a break, it’s going to be a long day.”

  She disappears to her office, and an idea assaults my mind.

  For the entire ride upstairs, butterflies battle in my stomach. Luisa’s eyes pop when I greet her. She shoots up, and I suppress a smile. I gesture toward Damien’s office. Her mouth hangs open while she blinks and nods.

  I tiptoe into his massive space, he has his back to the door, peering outside the window.

  I hear Monica’s high-pitched voice and freeze. “When are you coming back, Damien?”

  He runs his hand through his hair, his voice dropping to ice. “I won’t.”

  “But why?” she whines, and he balls his fists around him.

  “It’s none of your business.”

  “Is this how you talk to your future wife?” Her saccharine voice drips with an inside joke between them, but Damien’s not in the mood.

  “I want you here by the end of next week. We have to talk.”

  “I have too much work, and you not being here isn’t helping. At least you could have told me you’re taking some time away. I had to hear it from Filip. What’s wrong with you? You keep ignoring me.”

  A growl bubbles in his throat and he spits, “What I do is none of your concern. Never was, never will be.”

  “I’ll come next week then. You’re acting strange. What’s wrong with you?”

  “You’ll find out soon enough.” He hangs up and rubs his temples. I step further inside and he turns around. A smile stretches his lips, and I witness how his whole posture eases. He scoops me in his arms, and we drop on the sofa with me straddling him.

  “I thought of coming to see you countless times.”

  His pupils twinkle with joy, and I smile. “I gave Emma a break. With her away, my restraint’s gone too.”

  Damien puts his thumb under my chin, our eyes locked. “Hey, baby, we agreed long ago, we stand no chance against this pull between us. I’m happy you came to see me. It’s only the afternoon, and my nerves strain to snap.”

  “That bad?”

  “You heard, didn’t you?”

  “Yes.”

  He throws his head back, and his Adam’s apple bobs.

  “She won’t take losing you easy. Look at the extent she went to have a chance with you.”

  His jaw twitches and his eyes burn with determination. “She never had a real chance with me, only in her deranged mind, she thought she did. It would’ve killed me if I touched her. The thought alone disgusts me. At least my instincts were smarter than me.” A tremor rocks his body as his hands clasp my waist. “I hurt so much inside, Bria. I wasn’t myself. Even if I say I’m sorry for the rest of my life, it won’t be enough. And here you are comforting me. You humble me.”

  “We decided to let the past go, so we have the chance for a present. The only thing that matters is what we feel. We beat probably all odds there are. Here we are together, finally living. We paid for our mistakes. Let’s stop letting the past consume us more than it already has.”

  He rests his forehead on mine, asking, “What have I done to deserve you? I’ll always ask myself.”

  “You love me, and I love you. Even after everything, we still run to each other like there’s nothing else but us. It’s what we know, what our hearts know.”

  He consumes me with his touch, branding my skin with his kisses.

  When our lips part, I confess, “I can’t live without you, Damien. Don’t look at me like you don’t deserve me. It’s not your choice, it’s mine. For me, it’ll always be you. There’s no one else for me.”

  “All I want in life is to be with you and love you as long as we live.”

  I kiss him long, full of passion and promises.

  “Not complaining, but what was that for?”

  “For you being you.”

  “So, you liked the flowers then?”

  “And the note. I might think of a way to show you my gratitude,” I say, my voice dripping with innuendo. He pokes me between my thighs. I smile as he growls.

  “Already playing?”

  “No, baby, I just want to prepare you for what’s coming,” I whisper as he caresses my neck.

  “And how should I be able to work now?”

  I rise to my feet and place my hands on each side of his head, his breath tickling my cleavage.

  “I have to go back to work. See you.”

  His hands shoot to catch me, but I’m already at the door, and he mumbles, “Bria.” I can’t contain the grin popping on my face, witnessing him lost in his need for me.

  “What, baby? Is something wrong? Did I leave some unfinished business? We’ll have to postpone, then.” The playfulness ignites in him too, and his voice drops to promise.

  “How you like to play with fire, and tonight it’ll burn you. You have no idea what you caused.”

  I toss my hair over my shoulders and peek at my nails. “Words and words.”

  He rules from his couch, one foot crossed over the other, his hands resting on the frame. “Is this a challenge? Because I’m all in.”

  “What if it were?”

  “I would prepare myself if I were you.”

  My hand wraps around the knob, the lust dizzying me. “And for what exactly?” I pretend not to understand what we’re talking about, although my voice quivers and gives me away.

  “Baby, let’s wait until tonight when I fuck the defiance out of you. It’ll be such a pleasure.” His upper chest bends in my direction, his hands resting interlocked over his knees. My knees wobble. “And then I’m curious if you still can challenge me.”

  “Always will.”

  “Why is this so?”

  Genuine interest crosses his face. “Because I like it when you try to fuck my defiance right out of me.” I giggle as his jaw drops and then shut the door behind me as he shouts my name.

  Two can play the game, Damien.

  Luisa’s mouth opens and closes, still blinking at me, but to her defense, Damien’s and my interactions has the power to leave people in utter disbelief. I’m sure the quizzical looks won’t disappear overnight.

  ***

  I peer outside from my desk, and the city lights in Zürich lighten up the night sky. Outside my office, I hear no murmurs, everyone must have left a while ago. I shut my laptop and inhale. I did it! No more than a few minutes pass until the door opens and Damien strides in. A playful grin envelops his sculpted, gorgeous face, his hands tucked in his pockets, and his raw manliness steals my breath away.


  “How was the first day back, love?”

  Oh, he’s good, I’ll give him that, but his calmness and put-togetherness is a facade.

  “As if I never left.” I twirl a strand of my hair and straighten my shoulders, pushing my chest out, incapable of not provoking him.

  He cages me between his arms in my chair, his voice turning to liquid heat. “I heard it’s not healthy to sit long. Doctors recommend at least thirty minutes of exercise per day.”

  “So I’ve heard, but in my line of work, there are only a few activities I could engage in,” I squeal as he scoops me up and plants me on my desk.

  Good thing I decided against the glass one.

  “I might have a suggestion for you. I would hate to know my poor baby wants to exercise but doesn’t have the necessary resources.”

  “And what would that be?” My voice turns to raspy, and my legs part.

  “Let’s transform one of the spaces we don’t use into a gym, what do you say?”

  “Such a great idea. It’s the best way to let some steam off, and it’ll do a lot of good. And we can hire trainers to show me exactly how to exercise properly to fix my aches.”

  My words hit home. I love to see how, with one sentence, I won the will battle, but I celebrated too soon, I discover.

  “The girls we’ll hire will be absolute professionals and will fulfill every requirement,” Damien says with a smirk.

  “Aren’t you a little hypocrite?”

  He threads his fingers through my hair, fisting it, daring me. “Don’t test my jealousy, Bria. It’s consuming like my love for you. I can’t keep it at bay when you want to unleash it so eagerly.”

  “Then make another suggestion, one that appeals to me more,” I dare him in response.

  He drags me to my feet, unzips and yanks my pants and thong off with lightning speed. My bare bottom lands on the wooden surface.

  “Take your top off,” he demands, and I fumble with my hands to strip.

  “Now your bra.” He nudges between my legs, demanding further, “Undress me.”

  I peel his jacket and shirt off as he unbuckles his belt. He captures my hands and places them behind my back. His fingers fill me. His eyes glow with lust, and I shudder. My spine electrifies with my need for him.

  “Say it.”

  “I’m yours, only yours. I want only you.”

  “I want more.” My body pulses with the possession I detect in his eyes, and his demands I’m desperate to obey.

  “What exactly? That I’m irrevocably and undeniably in love with you? That I crave you with all of me?”

  Desperation laces his words. “More. Say what I want to hear.”

  Something unshackles from within me, and words rush out of me. “There can’t be another one for me because you ruined me for anyone else a long time ago even before realizing it.”

  His hands burrow into my skin, and he nuzzles at my neck. “What else?”

  “That I want you to fuck me so badly I don’t care when or how as long as you keep doing it? Or that your dirty mouth drives me insane with lust? That there’s no me without you?”

  He smiles against my skin and bites my earlobe. “Ask me.”

  “Fuck me. Please, just—” But I don’t get to finish the sentence as he thrusts inside me, and I cry out, filled.

  “Hold on.”

  I grip the ends of my desk while he thrusts inside me. He reaches his orgasm, and my entire body trembles in welcome as he trails kisses down my spine.

  “I would do anything for you, Bria. The way I love you edges on lunacy. What you do to me, you’ve no idea.”

  I nod to myself, understanding full well what he means, but his declaration sounds like the most beautiful lyrics to my hungry ears.

  We dress, red poking at my cheeks, realizing we did it in my office.

  I smile and sing out loud the entire drive home. His face scrunches up, but he says nothing. He must really love me.

  BRIA

  The next few days follow a blissful routine as we readjust to being together, from waking up next to the other, to driving to the office together. We even spend one break a day together, which becomes a new tradition we established. And when we reach home, we do other things together.

  I catch myself picturing more for us than the present and I daydream at the thought.

  His nearness becomes a second skin as we complement each other in every way. There was a time when I forgot how his touch felt on my skin, but my heart could not forget. The remainder of our love laid asleep only to awaken the first moment our bodies reunited, and our hearts reconnected.

  The familiarity between us reassures and comforts me. Day by day our bleeding wounds heal, leaving the most imperfectly perfect scars, a beautiful picture of connection.

  Friday night finds me lying in his arms, feeling protected and cherished. Our skin glows from our caresses in the dark, while our kisses tell a story of an insatiable need. My room turns into our love nest. A seclusion in which we love each other freely and uninhibited.

  I lay on one side with my back to him, savoring being caressed as he whispers in my wanton ear,

  “Your creamy skin is my favorite canvas, as my fingers paint a story of need and want, of love and adoration, of cravings and desires.”

  He caresses my face. I close my eyes to savor his touch with all my senses. His lips find mine, and I open myself to him like a flower expands its fragile petals in the crack of dawn animated to life.

  We fall asleep with beaming faces, love-filled hearts, and sated bodies.

  ***

  My eyes flutter open, and a renewed sense of belonging and gratitude blossoms inside me. I rub the sleep from my eyes to the shy morning sunrays infiltrating the window, and I exhale. Whatever the day will take from me could never leave me in pieces again. A pang of guilt hits me, thinking about how my mother is cluelessly happy about our soon-to-be reunion, but I can’t find it in me to be sorry. There’s no going forward until the past is buried. You can’t keep ignoring something that hides in the dark, lurking above one like a shadow, poisoning your happiness. I see it as a cleansing ceremony.

  I tiptoe out of the room, Damien’s breath still heavy with sleep, to call my therapist. His encouraging words offer me the last resource I need to embrace unleashing my emotions later. I crawl back under the covers, and Damien wraps his arms around me, his voice hoarse when he says, “I’ll be right next to you. Sometimes you forget how strong you truly are. But whenever doubt tries to sneak in, I’ll be there reminding you.”

  A short while later, we amble to the kitchen hand in hand for breakfast. The mix of a delicious butter croissant with strawberry jam hits my taste buds as I force bite after bite.

  The door opens, hitting the wall with a loud bang, and we jump up, our chairs crashing to the floor. Alex rushes in out of breath, and my fear subsides. His eyes flash with sincerity. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

  “Next time, don’t forget to be kinder to the door.” I point at the crack in the wall to the splinters plastered on the floor.

  “Can we have this discussion later? I need to get ready.”

  “I’m just nervous. I want it to be over. I’m sorry for overreacting.”

  “No problem.”

  “Is my sister ready?” asks Damien, his lack of happiness ringing in the room.

  Alex’s jaw sets, and he answers, “She was on the phone with Filip when I left.”

  At Filip’s name, a pang of guilt hits my chest. I failed him the most. Being consumed by my fear of rejection, I preferred to postpone my talk with him. I avoided, at any cost, to meet him until I was ready to face my mistakes. It’s the hardest of all. I can’t forget how he came into my office Wednesday, and his disappointment oozed out of him in waves as the encounter plays in my head.

  His hurt lingers around us as I force myself to confess but purse my lips and shut my eyes. I’m a coward. The worst is I have no excuses to behave like one. But nothing pulls me out
of my trance as he tries to have normal conversation with me.

  “Hi, Bria,” he greets and halts before he can embrace me. “Glad you’re back. You look fantastic.”

  The awkwardness stretches, he sighs, and an enormous amount of pain slices through me. I suppress bitter tears, this is my brother standing before me, and I missed watching him grow up into this amazing man—trustworthy, confident, and professional. Over time, I heard he’s incapable of forming meaningful bonds with women. Has he even been in love? I try not to blame myself, but whatever he had to go through because of me left him with deep scars.

  He stares at me, a cold statue, so fascinatingly beautiful and so out of reach. There are things you can try, but it won’t suffice. Still that little glimpse of hope drives you, more on instinct than on knowing.

  “I’m sorry.” His eyes flash with surprise, and he waves off my words.

  “Never mind. It is what it is, let it be. I hear there’s a family gathering at our parents’ home on Saturday. I can’t promise I can be present, though.”

  I approach him, he stills, and I plead, “Please, it’s important.”

  Hurt crosses his face, and his jaw twitches. “If it’s so important to you, sis, I’ll try harder.”

  It isn’t the acidic tone of his voice, but the way he emphasizes the word “sis” that whips my heart.

  He darts from my office while misery chokes me at how he must have felt when he lost me, and each attempt to fix it failed, leaving an open wound unable to be stitched back together. I stare at the door he disappeared through.

  I lost my brother. I have no idea if I can change it.

  I try to find my balance in work, but it doesn’t help. When Damien visits me hours later, his face transforms in concern when I lift my eyes to him, and I whisper, “Filip.”

  He shelters me in his arms, holding me together. I breathe, in this challenging situation, there’s one thing stable and I revel in being grateful for us.

  I resurface from my memory and offer Damien a small smile. A deep understanding passes through us.

  It’s us, forever us.