Claiming the Billionaire

by JM Stewart

  Of course, he hoped she’d cooled off by now, that maybe she’d come around.

  She folded her arms, shifted her weight onto her left foot, and cocked a brow. “What do you want, Ty?”

  What did he want? To take her in his arms. Hold her. Spend half the night rediscovering all the ways her body fit against his. To hear her breathing beside him while he slept. Not that he did sleep. Or that he should risk trying to with her, given how he spent most of his nights. But he wanted the luxury of her beside him in bed all the same.

  He knew going to the auction she likely wouldn’t even want to see him, but he needed to try. So, he stepped over the threshold, moving into her personal space. Close enough her soft perfume floated around him. Chanel something or other. He couldn’t recall the name, but, God, he loved the soft scent of it. She dabbed it behind her ears and between her breasts, and the scent made him yearn to search her skin for it.

  “I needed to see you. You have no idea how much I missed you.” Drumming up courage from God knew where, he smiled. “You owe me a date.”

  Yeah, and he owed Dean like twenty years’ salary. Dean had loaned him the money to bid on Cassie at the auction. It would take him years to pay Dean back, but it would be worth it if he could get her to spend some time with him.

  “I’m sorry you came all the way out here, Ty, but I can’t go on a date with you.” Cassie straightened her shoulders, which did nothing but press her breasts into his chest, and hiked her chin to a stubborn angle. “I’ve moved on.”

  Her words had the same impact now as they had hours ago. They hit his gut as surely as if she’d struck him. So she intended to play it like that.

  He shook his head. “You’re a damn stubborn woman, you know that? We argued. So loudly the neighbors pounded on the connecting wall. At some point, I told you to go to hell, and you stormed from my apartment and slammed the door so hard the walls shook. But that’s all it was. An argument.”

  His mind filled with the memory of that long-ago night. He’d proposed to her, heart in his hands. She hadn’t reacted the way he’d anticipated. After all the nights they’d spent wrapped around each other, she had the nerve to tell him she had no feelings for him beyond the physical. He’d called bullshit, hoping beyond hope he was right, that she cared more than she wanted him to believe, but all it had done was piss her off.

  Now, her breathing ramped up several notches, her chest and shoulders heaving like she’d run a marathon. She stared, mouth open, then turned and stormed off. Seconds later, her bedroom door slammed.

  “Why is he doing this?”

  Her voice drifted down the hallway and Tyler rolled his eyes. She’d called for backup. Gray no doubt, who probably wanted to kick his ass. Tonight hadn’t gone how he’d imagined it. His mother had made a point to tell him Cassie had grieved hard over his death. They’d been watching a movie with Dean and the girls when the commercial came, flashing Cassie’s gorgeous face. Since coming home, he hadn’t called or gone to see her because he found normal life hard to adjust to. Everything was too damn bright and too noisy, and he was overwhelmed.

  One look at her smiling face, though, had the need to see her burning in his gut. After three years of trying not to forget, to remember every little nuance of her, his heart had taken the knowledge and run with it.

  Now he almost regretted going to the auction, because if he didn’t know better, he’d swear she was sorry he wasn’t dead.

  “It’s been three years. I’m finally starting to move on. Why would he do this now?” Cassie’s voice drifted down the hallway again. She paused, as if listening. Thirty seconds or so later, she came marching back to the front door. She looked down at her phone and touched a button on the screen. “You’re on speaker, Marilyn.”

  “Ty, honey, I told you that auction wasn’t a good idea.”

  At the sound of his mother’s voice, he could only shake his head. “My mother? Out of all the people you could have called, you call my mother?” It gave him hope. That he was right, and she cared more than she wanted to let on. He took Cassie’s phone from her hand and glanced down at it. His mother didn’t need to be privy to this conversation. “I’ll call you later, Ma. I love you.”

  Also something he’d regretted a lot over the last three years. Not telling her how much he appreciated her. Dean had been the golden boy, top of his class, always did what he was told and did it well. He was currently married and the vice president of the communications corporation he worked for.

  Tyler had always been the rebellious kid who’d run with the wrong crowd and did everything anybody in a position of authority told him not to. He’d spent a lot of time over the last three years wondering if his mother knew how much he appreciated everything she’d sacrificed for them.

  “I love you, too, sweetheart. Be gentle with her.”

  He disconnected the call and held Cassie’s phone out to her, but she didn’t take it. She stood staring, eyes wide, gaze searching his. One by one tears began to fall, and she pivoted, moving farther into the house. She stopped at the edge of the living room but didn’t say anything. So, he closed the front door and followed, stopping several feet behind her.

  He had to hand it to her. She wasn’t coming apart at the seams. She simply stood, back stiff and straight, arms folded, staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows that made up her living room wall. He knew from previous experience those windows gave an unprecedented view of downtown Seattle and Elliott Bay beyond. They’d stood on her enormous deck more than once, her wrapped in his arms, looking out over the city, talking about dreams and futures.

  “It’s been three years.” She spoke so softly he barely heard her, as if she were talking to herself, but not once did her voice waver. “Three years, Ty. Now suddenly here you are, alive and whole.”

  “I’ve always been whole, though why they let me live is beyond me.”

  He’d had three years to ponder this moment. Too much damn time to dream up everything he’d say to her. The problem was, he couldn’t get the words to leave past the lump in his throat. He hadn’t anticipated how powerful being in her presence again would be. He ached to wrap his arms around her and hold her until she stopped shaking, but he had no idea if she’d let him. Had no idea, either, if he could stand to be touched. He’d spent three years in what had essentially been solitary confinement. Alone with stone walls.

  Since coming home, everything brought up memories he didn’t want to remember anymore. Post-traumatic stress the doctor had said. Something as simple as his mother’s hug could send him into a spiral to hell. None of which Cassie needed to see now.

  So, he shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “What happened to you? You went missing and then they couldn’t find you. After a year went by, they stopped looking, assumed you were dead. We had a funeral.”

  “They ambushed us. Six of us were captured. I’m the only one who made it out. I think they were hoping to trade us for a few of their own.” He swallowed hard, forcing back the memories. Now wasn’t the time to relive the horror of those final days. She didn’t need to know the gory details, either, or watch him unravel as the memories sucked him into the past. “They kept moving us, shuffling us around, trying to stay one step ahead of the units looking for us. I honestly had no idea how much time had passed or even what was happening. It was just a series of endless days and nights.”

  She finally turned to face him. “Why aren’t you angry with me? I said some cruel things to you the last time we saw each other. You shouldn’t even want to see me.”

  He looked down at the floor for a moment. He’d thought about this a lot, too.

  “For a long time, I was. You didn’t just turn down my proposal. You shoved it back in my face and made sure I knew how unimportant I was to you.” He looked up then, pinning her with a direct stare. He had no intention of letting her slip past him this time. They were going to settle this once and for all, whatever that meant. He needed the closure. “Which was why I called bulls
hit. You run from anything even resembling commitment. You don’t think I see you, but I do.”

  Or at least he had. Now they were strangers again, and everything inside of him rebelled against the idea. The thought alone brought up a deep well of anger he didn’t know what to do with. They’d stolen three years of his life.

  She wrapped her arms over her stomach, her voice small and dejected. “It doesn’t change things.”

  He ducked down to look in her eyes. “Doesn’t it?”

  She met his gaze with a stubborn lift of her chin but hurt filled her eyes. “No, because…You’re going back, aren’t you?”

  Phrased as a question, but her piercing gaze dared him to deny it, telling him she already knew the answer.

  “I don’t know. I’ve got psych evals first.” And he knew damn well what they’d find. He needed something to make him feel useful, not quite so fucked up, but they’d never put him back on active duty. He’d be lucky to get a desk job. “You, however, could at least have the balls to be honest with me.”

  He knew she had them. Cassie could be fierce when she wanted to be. She’d never let him hide. He wouldn’t let her, either.

  She stared at him, for what had to be the hundredth time since he arrived. When she didn’t answer, he dared a step forward and closed the gap between them, hovering over her. So close the heat of her body infused his and her sweet, sweet perfume called to him like the lure of a siren’s song. He ached to touch her, if only to remember the suppleness of her skin. To get lost in her in a blind attempt to chase away the hell living in his head.

  “I remember. I remember the way you used to look at me, the way we held each other at night. Have the balls to be honest with me and tell me why you really turned me down.” He had a feeling he knew, but he needed to hear her say the words.

  Cassie lifted her chin to a defiant angle. “I’m not doing this with you again, Ty.”

  He wanted to laugh. God, he loved her feistiness. She’d been a challenge from the beginning, from the first corny line he’d tossed at her.

  He’d been on leave the weekend he’d run into her. Her older brother, Nick, had been one of his best friends. He’d gone to the fireworks display at the Space Needle that night with Dean and some friends to honor Nick’s memory and the memory of others they’d lost in the war. He’d met Cassie for the first time when she barreled into him. There she was, tipsy, wearing a skirt that showed more thigh than it covered and sexy, strappy little sandals that made her legs look a mile long. Who the hell wore heels to a Fourth of July celebration he didn’t know, but she’d plowed into him so hard, she’d ended up in his arms. The awful pickup line he’d tossed at her had been an instinctive reaction. “Aw, look who fell from heaven.”

  She’d glared at him, but she hadn’t been able to hide her smile, and he’d tossed several more at her to see that smile bloom. In the conversation that followed, he learned she was Nick’s little sister, and she’d gone downtown for the same reason he had.

  He pulled himself from the memories and refocused on her face.

  “I need to hear you say the words.” Like he needed air to breathe. He needed to know their relationship wasn’t a figment of his vivid imagination. Needed it to ground him in the here and now, because he’d left a huge chunk of himself back in the fucking desert. “You owe me that much.”

  She fisted her hands at her sides and glared at him.

  “Fine. Because your job scares the hell out of me. I couldn’t do it, Ty. I lost Nick to that damn war. He went over there and didn’t come back. I couldn’t sit around waiting for you to die, too. I have friends and way too many customers whose husbands and brothers and sons have died over there. I started a new jewelry line. Did you know that? In honor of the fallen. The thought of losing you like that?” Her breathing hitched and her lower lip wobbled. A single tear made its way down her cheek, but she didn’t acknowledge it. “But it happened anyway.”

  He’d met Nick when they’d stationed him at Joint Base Lewis–McChord after Basic. Nick had already been three years in. He was the kind of guy you couldn’t help but like, who made friends with everybody. Five years ago, he deployed to Iraq, only to die months later when his Humvee rolled over an IED. Being the driver, he’d taken the brunt of the blast.

  He had to hand it to Cassie. At least she was honest with him. He could work with that.

  “I miss Nick every damn day, but I’m still here.” He opened his arms, holding them out from his sides. To prove a point. Because despite knowing he’d likely jump out of his skin the first time she touched him, he still hoped she’d end up in his arms. He needed her there, needed her soft touch to chase away the demons.

  He didn’t know what to expect from her at this point, but an aching second passed in tense silence. She stared at him, visibly trembling, a few tears meandering their way down her cheeks. When he was sure she wouldn’t say anything else, that he was getting nowhere with her, Cassie drew a sharp breath. She took that step, slid her hands up his chest. Her arms closed around his neck, and her body became a second skin.

  Tyler sucked in a desperate breath and gritted his teeth. For a moment, he could only stand there and remember to drag in oxygen. Memories snapped into his mind faster than he could stop them. Unending days of sitting, alone, curled up in the corner of a dank cell. Too many damn nights terrified to sleep for fear he wouldn’t wake up the next day.

  That he’d never get to see her again.

  His throat closed, taking his air supply with it, and he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to stay in the present. It wasn’t real, but he could still feel that bastard’s hot breath on his face.

  “Ty?”

  Her soft, familiar voice floated into his consciousness. The warmth of her hand settled on his chest, and he jumped, his eyes snapping open. Cassie stared at him, concern etched into the lines of her forehead. “What’s the matter?”

  He forced a smile, positive it trembled like the rest of him.

  “I’m fine.” One by one, he forced his limbs to relax. Jesus. He needed to calm the hell down. It was just Cassie.

  “No, you’re not. What’s wrong?”

  He shook his head. He wouldn’t go into this with her. Not now. Maybe not ever. What he needed was her, in his arms, as close as he could get her. Maybe then the goddamn demons would stop chasing him down.

  Maybe then he’d finally stop shaking.

  He reached out slowly, half afraid she’d disappear the moment he touched her, and cupped her cheek. When his palm slid over the warm suppleness of her skin, when she didn’t, in fact, evaporate into the ether, he allowed himself to draw a breath. God, she was real. It was a stupid thing to think, but it awed him all the same.

  Encouraged, he slid his arms loosely around her, tugging her against him. The instant her soft body hit his, her lush, full breasts pushing into his chest, his whole body lit up. Like someone had set his blood on fire. He wanted to laugh. He hadn’t thought about sex or anything like it in three damn years, had been sure once that his dick had shriveled up from lack of use. One touch from her, though, and his cock pulsed behind his zipper. A groan escaped him, every inch of him relaxing into the sweetness of her. God, she was heaven, and he wanted to get lost in her.

  Unable to help himself, he bent to brush his mouth over hers. Once. Twice. She had the most incredible mouth. So full and supple. When she lifted onto her toes, the last shred of his resistance went up in a puff of smoke. Three years of longing, of not knowing if he’d see her again, caved in on him. He cupped her face in his palms and drank her in, spent long minutes refamiliarizing himself with the shape of her lips.

  She moaned, a soft little purr at the back of her throat that had always driven him crazy, and her hands burrowed beneath the back of his shirt.

  He groaned again. Christ, he couldn’t help himself. If this was a dream, he prayed he’d never wake up. She’d told him once she adored the heat of his skin. Whenever possible, her hands had always been up his shirt. He�
�d gotten into the habit of not tucking them in when not in uniform.

  She didn’t disappoint now. Her hands stroked upward, taking his shirt with it, and he pulled back to whip it off over his head. The shirt hit the floor with a soft shush of fabric, and Cassie took his hand, leading him to the couch. Once there, she released him and nodded. “Sit.”

  In her quiet demand, the answer to his problem presented itself. If sex was where she was comfortable, that’s where he’d start—in the bedroom. Hell, they’d started that way originally. On that Fourth of July night, she’d ended up in his bed. They’d spent the night making love and talking.

  Now it meant he’d have to touch her. He’d have to risk drawing up those ugly memories, but he hoped she’d let down a wall or two. So, he took the idea and ran with it.

  He dropped onto the sofa behind him and crooked a finger at her. She shook her head, sinking to her knees at his feet instead and reached for the button on his jeans. As she popped it free and slid down the zipper, her slender fingers brushed his cock, hardening him to the point of pain.

  He sucked in a hissing breath and shackled her wrist. “Uh-uh. I need you closer.”

  It had been too damn long. If she put her mouth on him now, he’d go off like a goddamn Roman candle. He needed to take this slowly, or he’d embarrass himself.

  For once in her life, Cassie didn’t argue but allowed him to pull her off the floor and slide onto his lap, straddling his thighs. When she leaned into him, pushing her gorgeous tits into his chest, he feared he’d bust the seam on his jeans. How the hell had he ever lived without that feeling? How had he ever thought he could let her go?

  He kissed her softly, luxuriating in her mouth on his, and reached up her tank to close his hands around her breasts. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and her breasts were deliciously free. God, she had the most fantastic tits. Full and round. She wasn’t getting a damn thing out of him playing with them like this, but Christ. It had been three years since he’d had his hands on her. He couldn’t resist massaging them or running his thumbs back and forth across her distended nipples. He might have whipped her shirt off and replaced his hands with his mouth, except she reached between them and closed her hand around his cock. She stroked him slowly, from base to tip, sending pleasure curling through him.