The Billionaire's Deal: The Complete Story: An Alpha Billionaire Romance

by Kaswell, Crystal

  "Sorry, I haven't slept."

  "So can we go to the brunch place that doesn't card?" she asks.

  "No way in hell."

  ***

  Brunch is quiet. I eat a full plate of stuffed French toast and spend the afternoon napping with my sketchbook pressed against my chest.

  Lizzy makes dinner. She's not the best cook in the world, but neither am I. We eat in front of the TV. Still quiet. Maybe she's reeling, too. Her life is going to be different soon. She'll be on another coast entirely.

  She resigns herself to studying, and I spread out on my bed with my sketchbook. I've been working on all these tiny little comics—four or six or even ten panels. When I lay them side my side, they fit together somehow. They're kind of like Ghost World, actually. Little vignettes about life refusing to stay the same.

  It's been changing all this time. It's not just before the accident and after the accident. Every day is different. Every day, I'm different. Meeting Blake...

  That's just speeding things along.

  I get to work on another series of vignettes. There is so much I want to capture, but I'm not good enough yet. The pictures in my head don't come our right on paper. I need training. I need experience.

  It's not too late to reverse my decisions. It's not too late to take Blake's money to pay for school. But that feels wrong. There are other ways. Need based scholarships. Loans. I'll figure it out.

  Between checking school deadlines and working on my comic, I lose track of time. Lizzy wishes me goodnight. Promises to check on me before she leaves for school tomorrow. My phone beeps with a low battery warning. I go to plug it in when I see—

  Blake: Kat, call me. I need to talk about Meryl.

  It's only an hour or two old and there's a missed call to go with it. Crap. I hope it's not too late.

  I dial Blake and hold the phone to my ear. Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay.

  "Kat," he answers. "You okay?"

  "Yeah. Can you tell me what's going on?" I dig my fingers into the phone. "I mean, thank you for the book."

  "It's supposed to be an early wedding present."

  "Thanks anyway." Not like I got him anything.

  "You like it?" There's this hint of vulnerability in his voice, like it would crush him if I didn't like it.

  I clear my throat. "Very much." My stomach feels light. There's too much going on. Way too much. "What's happening with Meryl?"

  His breath catches. "Kat..." It's hopeless.

  Shit. That's bad. I've never heard or seen Blake rattled. Not really. I try my best it's going to be okay voice. "Yeah?"

  "She's going home tonight." He's totally despondent.

  Home is supposed to be good. You go to the hospital, you get better, you go home. That's how it works. Deep breath. Everything is going to be okay. "What does that mean?" I ask.

  "It's hospice care. She only has a few days."

  Oh God. Breathe, dammit. Breathe! "Are you okay?"

  He takes a long, slow breath. "Are you?"

  I shake my head. Something he won't hear. A tear rolls down my cheek. It's hot and salty and it stings like hell. It's not like it's a surprise, but it still hurts. She's been so kind to me, and it's been so long since anyone has looked out for me.

  I wipe the tear away. No crying. Not on the phone with Blake. That's his mom. He's the one who gets to cry. "I'll manage."

  "She's staying at her house upstate."

  "Oh, can I... I don't want to intrude."

  "She'd enjoy your company." His voice is steady again.

  I take another deep breath. "I'll take the first train in the morning."

  "I'm leaving in an hour. I'll pick you up."

  My heart races. My lungs still refuse to cooperate properly. I manage a few choppy breaths. I don't panic. I never have before, and I'm not about to start now.

  Meryl is dying. She needs us so she doesn't have to do it alone. It hurts like hell, but this isn't the time to feel that.

  "Okay," I say. "But knock when you get here. Lizzy is sleeping."

  "Okay."

  "Thanks."

  "Kat?"

  "Yeah?" My stomach twists.

  "It's gonna be okay."

  It's not, but he's sweet to lie.

  ***

  The knock is so soft I can barely hear it. That was fast. My suitcase is only half packed. Most of my clothes are a mess on the floor. Deep breath. It does nothing to calm me down, but I'm holding strong enough.

  I open the front door. Blake leans against the doorframe. He looks perfect. Navy Henley with the top button undone. Straight leg jeans that hug his hips just so. The under eye bags are gone. It's like this is a normal date. Like I didn't break off our engagement yesterday. Like his mom isn't dying.

  His eyes find mine. He brushes my hair behind my ear. God, that feels good. My body fills with warmth.

  I lean into his touch as his fingers skim my cheek. It's soft and sweet, almost like he really does love me.

  "You okay?" he asks.

  No lying this time. I shake my head but don't bother verbalizing the sentiment.

  Same steel expression in his eyes. He steps inside, closing the door behind him.

  Blake wraps his arms around me. His body is so warm. It's so hard but there's something so soft about his embrace. He rubs my shoulders and upper back.

  "How the hell are you so calm?" I press my palms into the soft fabric of his shirt. "That's your mom."

  He runs his hand through my hair. "I don't have a choice."

  Deep breath. I can calm down. I can make it through the next week. "I know what you mean."

  "You do it, too." He runs his fingers over my cheek. "You're a strong person."

  "Thank you."

  "It does hurt me." His voice is steady. Even. "It's just I don't show it."

  "You don't show anything. You're like a robot."

  He laughs. Oh, God, that laugh. It cracks something inside me. Deep breath. This is going to be okay. Blake is still laughing, and that sound is still the sweetest thing I've ever heard.

  He steps back. "Sit down."

  I do.

  He pours me a glass of water. I drink it without any prodding.

  Blake sits across from me. He leans closer, elbows on his knees, palm pressed against his cheek. He stares right into my eyes. "You're a very sweet girl."

  "I'm twenty-one. I'm not a girl."

  His lips curl into a quarter-smile. "Do you need some time?"

  "Five minutes to pack."

  He nods, reaches out, and brushes the stray hairs from my eyes. Presses his thumb against my cheek and wipes away one of my tears.

  My legs go weak. Thank God I'm sitting. I'm spinning in too many different directions. My body is desperate for any comfort Blake can provide, but that's no good. Even now, even when I need comfort more than I have in years.

  Palm against the table, I press myself up to standing. Okay. Only a few things left to pack then I'm in the perfect dark embrace of Blake's limo. I can manage that. He probably has something that will calm my nerves. Champagne, maybe.

  A rush of want collects between my legs. I'd feel a lot calmer with Blake licking champagne off my body again.

  I clear my throat. Not going down that particular memory lane. "Excuse me."

  My room is still a mess, but it's not out of line for a twenty-one-year-old. I fold another pair of jeans, another t-shirt, another sweater. It's not as if I need anything fancy. We're going to be at his mother’s house.

  Deep breath.

  Meryl is dying. There's no getting around that.

  I can handle it.

  I toss a few extra pairs of socks and underwear in my suitcase and zip it shut. There. Everything I need for a week. Worst-case scenario, well, best-case scenario, I can come back to pick up some extras. Hell, Blake probably has people for that.

  There's a light knock on my bedroom door. Blake leans against the frame, pushing the door all the way open. God, the man can work a doorf
rame.

  My eyes dart to my left hand. Nothing there. Because whatever our deal is, we're not doing it anymore. I didn't hold up my end of the bargain. No reason why he should hold up his.

  He sits on my bed and pats the spot next to him. It's a tiny little bed—a full—but there's just enough room for the two of us.

  I sit next to him and rest my head on his shoulder. He slides his arm around me. His fingers brush against my back. God, the man really is comforting. We could have had a perfect marriage except for the little matter of him not loving me.

  "You're hurting," he says.

  I nod. "I'm sorry. It's your mother. It's not fair for me to react like this."

  He runs his fingers through my hair. Oh, God, my body responds. Everything inside me wakes up. I turn towards his touch reflexively. It's the most comforting thing in the history of the world.

  "I can get your mind off it." He drags his fingertips over my neck. "But you'll have to do things my way."

  His breath is warm and wet. His way has worked so well before, and I want so badly to feel anything besides this.

  His touch is so soft. My eyes flutter closed. My nerves stand on end. It's an itch, and he's the only thing that can scratch it.

  "You'll have to surrender completely," he says.

  Perfect. I nod. "Please."

  He rises and presses my bedroom door closed. Slides my suitcase out of the way and surveys the bed. "You have any scarves?"

  I grab one from my dresser and hand it to him.

  Blake rolls his shoulders back. "Take off your clothes. All of them."

  A shudder passes through me. No objections today. I can't wait another second for release.

  I slip out of my sweater, t-shirt, and jeans. Just a bra and panties now. Blake's pupils dilate. His tongue slides over his lips. I unhook my bra and slide it off one shoulder at a time. He stares at my chest like he's transfixed, groaning lightly as my bra hits the ground.

  His gaze returns to my eyes. There's something in his gaze today—urgency. He needs this, too. It's a release for him, too.

  My sex clenches. I slide my panties off my hips and kick them to the floor.

  Blake motions come here. Hell yes. Two steps and my body is pressed against his. I'm on display for him, his thing to adore or use as he pleases. Heat spreads through me. Use me; God, use me.

  He runs his fingertips from the nape of my neck to my ass. His touch is light and patient. Much, much too patient. He kisses me, slowly sliding his tongue into my mouth. I grab his shoulders, hook my leg over around his hip, groan into his mouth. Blake is kissing me. It feels so damn right. Hard to believe there's so much wrong with this non-relationship.

  Smack! His hand comes down hard on my ass. My sex clenches. I nearly bite his tongue. Fuck, that stings in the most delicious way. He drags his nails against my back.

  "My way, Kat. My way." He grabs my wrist and holds it tightly. "Turn around and face the wall."

  He adjusts our positions so I'm a foot away from the wall. Not the one that connects with Lizzy's bedroom, thank goodness. Blake guides my arm, placing my palm flat against the wall. He does the same with the other.

  His hands close around my hips. He nudges me a few inches closer. My nose is six inches from the wall. Barely any breathing room.

  He pulls the scarf around my eyes, blindfolding me, and ties a tight knot. It's one of those chiffon scarves. Everything is fuzzy but I still have a sense of the light in the room.

  My body goes cold as he moves away. I reach back reflexively. Smack! His hand comes down hard on my ass again. My sex clenches at the perfect rush of pain. God damn he feels good.

  "My way, Kat. Hands stay on the wall."

  The light changes. The main one is off now. Just the desk lamp. There's shifting behind me. Blake taking off some of his clothes. Everything inside me wants to turn around, to rip this blindfold off so I can drink in the sight of his gorgeous body.

  A shudder passes through me. My imagination is almost as good. Nothing could compare to the real thing, but it's pretty damn close.

  He moves closer. His nails scrape against my back, trailing down my spine. He digs his fingers into my ass with a heavy groan. "What do you want?"

  "You."

  "How?"

  That flutter below my belly goes into overdrive. I want him every way, including a million ways I'll never get him. But that isn't what he's asking. He doesn't care if I love him or not.

  This isn't about love.

  This is fucking, pure and simple.

  I press my fingertips against the wall. Something to contain the desperate feeling in my body. "I want your cock inside me."

  He runs his fingers over my clit. Yes. Hell, yes. Blake groans as he slides two fingers inside me. It feels so good I nearly buckle.

  Hands on the wall. No moving or he'll stop. He presses hard against my G-spot. I gasp. My knees go weak, but I manage to stay upright. Blake. It's the only thing I can think or feel. Blake, Blake, Blake. Such a nice word, really. Such a perfect thing to feel.

  He rubs me. He sinks his teeth into the back of my shoulders. He drags his fingertips over my nipples and every inch of my body goes into overdrive. Tension builds inside me—tighter and tighter and tighter and—

  Oh, God.

  "Blake." I slam my hand against the wall. There's the deepest, hardest tension inside me. So fucking tight it hurts. The most perfect agony.

  He rubs me with a steady rhythm. His touch is soft on my tits. He draws circles around my nipple, sending pangs to my cunt. Almost. There. So damn close.

  I arch my back, shifting my body into his, so his whole hand is pressed against me. I'm damn greedy. I need more of him, all of him, all the damn time.

  The pressure builds and builds. I bite my lip to keep from screaming. I press my palms flat against the wall.

  One more perfect squeeze of tension and everything releases. My body shakes as I come. I feel it everywhere. In my stomach, my tits, my damn toes.

  No time to waste, Blake brings his hands to my hips and pulls me into position. Oh, hell yes. His cock strains against me. Yes, yes, yes. I need him inside me; so deep inside me, I can't remember my own name.

  I shift my hips as he enters me. A groan escapes my lips. It's like I'm home, like I'm whole. It's not fair he can make me feel like this, but right now I don't give a flying fuck.

  He brings his mouth to my ear. "You feel so fucking good."

  My sex clenches reflexively. He groans, digging his nails into my hips.

  He pushes deeper. Deeper. Deeper.

  I gasp. It's so much pressure, so much it hurts. But that's its own kind of good.

  He brings his hand to my pelvis and holds me against him. All I can do is surrender to the feeling of him deep, deep inside me.

  Pleasure whirs around inside me. "Blake," I groan. I rid my mind of conscious thought. Blake, Blake, Blake. Tonight, it's my favorite word.

  "Tell me you're mine," he commands.

  "Tonight," I say.

  "Always." He slides his fingers over my clit as he thrusts into me.

  "Tonight." My legs shake. My everything shakes. "I'm yours tonight."

  He lets out a groan as he thrusts into me. It's hard and fast. So hard and fast it hurts. I arch my back to meet him, rubbing my clit over his fingers like they're my personal sex toy. The ache inside me is replaced with bliss. So much and so deep and so tight I can barely take it.

  He moves faster. Harder. Deeper. His fingers slide over my clit harder and harder. There. Perfect.

  "Don't stop," I moan.

  "Like hell." He grabs my hair and pulls my head back, so my neck is pressed up against his mouth. "You're mine." He sinks his teeth into my neck.

  Tonight. I'm his tonight, and it's the only thing I want to be.

  He rubs me with that same rhythm. I lose track of everything. I stop trying to move with him. I have no more control. All I can do is react.

  He rubs me. I groan. He pulls my hair back and sinks hi
s teeth into my neck. I scream his name. He grabs my hips and presses my body against the wall. I turn my head, arching my back to keep him as deep inside me as he'll go.

  Blake kisses me. It's hard, hungry, and desperate. He moans into my mouth. Then, his lips are back on my neck, and he's thrusting into me again. Harder. Harder. Harder.

  His fingers slide over my clit with that same rhythm. Almost. So damn close. The pleasure inside me builds. More, more, more.

  Oh, God—

  "Blake," I groan.

  He moves with the same speed. An orgasm builds inside me. My body goes into overdrive. Nothing in me but the purest ecstasy. It's so much and then it's more.The releases is a rush. A perfect rush of bliss. I come over him. No way to contain this. Nothing I can do but feel it.

  He doesn't stop. He keeps rubbing me. Keeps thrusting into me. It's too much sensation. It hurts like hell.

  Blake nips at my ear. "You feel so fucking good."

  Then it's not too much. It's perfect. This orgasm is fast and hard. It starts high. Builds and builds. Tighter and tighter.

  His nails dig into my skin, and everything releases. I come in waves. Everything is shaking. I lose my grip on the wall.

  Blake grabs me and throws me on the bed face first. I hold on to my comforter as he pushes my legs apart and slides inside me.

  Blake, Blake, Blake. He's mine for tonight, too.

  He digs his hands into my shoulders as he fucks me. He groans. Nips at my ear. "Fuck, Kat, I'm going to come."

  He moves faster, harder, deeper. A few more thrusts, and he comes inside me.

  My breath returns slowly. Blake collapses next to me, pulling off my blindfold and pulling me into his arms.

  I make eye contact. He's staring at me with all sorts of affection, but none of it is love.

  No matter. That's not what we're doing here.

  "Okay?" he asks.

  "Great." I say.

  He presses his lips against mine, soft and sweet. My heart flutters. That sweet comfort is replaced by nothingness. No pretending I hold any of the cards in this relationship.

  "I hate to rush you, but we should head out." He brushes the hair behind my eyes.

  I nod to the door. "Give me five minutes."

  He slides off the bed and waits in the living room.

  I dress and run a brush through my hair. I'm going to survive the next week, whatever it takes.