Love Your Moves: A Billionaire Valentine's Romantic Comedy

by Weston Parker

  Tori wouldn’t know what had hit her with this one, though, and I’d be there to watch the whole thing go down. Maybe I’d even get some video footage of my own and send it to the right outlets.

  Reporters in this city had fallen over their feet trying to get into my good graces for years. Most of them were down on me now, but I still had a few friends in the right places.

  People would soon forget about my company’s bad press once they had something new to fixate on. I’d show them that Tori made mistakes too, and perhaps they’d let it go.

  Once I was done with my plan for her, I put in a call to our marketing department. They had to come up with a strategy to counter all those by our competitors before it was too late. We had plenty of ammunition to fire back.

  If any of those assholes thought I was about to sit back and watch them dismantle my brand, they had another thing coming. An hour later, I had a publicity war room set up and several dozen people working the media angle.

  It felt damn good to be doing something again other than pining over Tori. That kiss might’ve been the best one of my life, but I couldn’t think with my dick on this one. There was too much at stake.

  A little thread of guilt worked its way up to my belly when I sat back in my chair, but I ignored it. I was going forward with my plan, and nothing and no one was stopping me. Tori might’ve been drunk when she made that video, but she should’ve known better.

  Besides, she would only take a little heat. If that. She’d be fine. Reed Global, on the other hand, might very well not be.

  She had fired her shots first. All I was doing was finally also getting in on the game on the level she’d taken it to herself.

  Chapter 21

  TORI

  A little nervous about the outfit I was wearing underneath, I hugged my overcoat tight as I made my way through the lobby. The hotel where today’s last job was taking place was a nice one, known for hosting all sorts of functions.

  I’d been told to make my way to room M12, where a bachelor party was happening in one of the medium-sized venues. In my pocket, I had a box of candy shaped like a pair of boobs that I was supposed to hand to the groom.

  This wasn’t my first bachelor party, but it was the first one where I’d agreed to wear anything like what I had on now. The outfit was one of the most revealing in our arsenal, the dress so short that a light breeze would introduce my hooha to anyone who happened to be looking in my direction.

  Sequins, beads, and faux crystals decorated every inch of the corset bodice, while the dark purple skirt flared out. All the detailing was done in various shades of green, emerald, black, and silver, creating the illusion that it changed color as I moved.

  I’d turned down this type of gig often. Anything too revealing, and I said no. The booker at the company had said they’d charged triple the usual price for this gig, though. It didn’t leave me with much of a choice.

  My unnaturally high heels clicked against the marble floors on my way to the appointed room. Any misstep in these, and I was snapping an ankle for sure. I had to get to the venue by seven forty-five exactly, hit the music, and enter immediately. The instructions about the time had been very specific.

  Making it just in time, I slid on the elaborate sunglasses that completed the outfit, took the candy out of my pocket, and left my coat at the door. Then I hit the music on the little speaker secured to my back. I burst into the room as planned, dancing my way toward the man matching the description of the groom.

  The chatter in the room faded to nothing as I made my approach, and I tried not focus on anyone except the broad-shouldered man in the black suit standing with his back to me. If I thought about this too much or made eye contact with too many people wearing this tiny dress, I was afraid I’d let out an embarrassing squeak and run for the hills.

  It wasn’t until I reached him that I noticed the priest collar around his neck. Is the bachelor party a costume party?

  Seductively reaching up and removing the sunglasses right on cue, I noticed the audience I’d danced into the center of. They were not a bunch of drunk, horny guys but a room full of older men and women dressed in black.

  One woman at the front of the rows of seats I hadn’t been able to see from the door was sobbing into a handkerchief. Horrified as I took in my surroundings, I saw an urn on a little table at the front of the room and a giant framed photograph of an elderly man wearing a Hawaiian shirt.

  The pieces flew together in my head. This wasn’t a bachelor party, it was a memorial. How did this happen?

  I couldn’t have gotten the room number wrong. Before I’d left the office wearing this get-up, I’d double-checked all the information precisely so I wouldn’t end up in the wrong place while wearing next to nothing. I’d also checked the number on the door outside three times.

  “I’m so sorry,” I blurted out, my eyes wide and mortification making me turn bright red. “This is a mistake. I’m so, so sorry. I’m sorry for your loss.”

  Apologizing profusely as I started walking backward as fast as I could in my heels, I almost didn’t see Ben standing around one of the corners. He had his phone in his hand, filming the whole thing with his light on so he’d have a clear video despite the dim lighting.

  Narrowing my eyes in a glare that should’ve made him turn to stone, I marched right up to him and slapped him right in the face. His smug smile dropped and his glare instantly matched mine.

  “Are you crazy?” I hissed between clenched teeth. “These poor people are in mourning.”

  I was livid, and Ben looked about the same. Wrapping his hand around my wrist—again—he tugged me out of the room and straight to the elevator. While he walked, he looked at me over his shoulder.

  “That’s rich coming from you.” He smirked. “You’re the one who danced in there in that.”

  The elevator arrived the moment we came to a stop in front of it. He hit the button for the top floor, which meant I was going to be stuck in here with him for longer than it would take me to have my say.

  Crossing my arms over my chest, I realized I’d left my coat on the floor at the entrance to the room. I felt just about naked in this dress, especially with him standing right next to me, but I didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing I was uncomfortable.

  As I lowered my arms back down to my sides, I motioned at the dress. “I danced in there like this because you set me up. Again.”

  “So you can dish it out, but you can’t take it?” he retorted, barely even glancing at me. His posture was tight, his muscles locked and practically vibrating with rage. His jaw was so clenched that I thought he might crack a few teeth.

  Good. I hope it hurts.

  “At least you’ll still be getting paid for this job,” he bit out. “You can forget about a tip, though. My profits this quarter won’t allow for any extra money to be spent thanks to you.”

  “I don’t want your fucking money,” I snapped, glowering at his reflection in the mirror. “I didn’t set out to hurt your business, but it’s clear you won’t stop until you’ve destroyed both of my careers. What do you want from me, Ben?”

  “What do I want from you?” He scoffed. After a brief pause, the mood in the elevator changed. Heat suddenly blazed from his eyes when he turned to face me, lighting up the blue again and making the brown seem warmer. “You know exactly what I want from you, and I know you want the same thing from me.”

  I swallowed past the dry spots in my mouth and throat that hadn’t been there a moment ago, lifting my chin defiantly. Pivoting to face him, I realized too late that we were now standing so close together that our chests were brushing on every one of our deep, panting breaths.

  “What?” I asked. “You think a quick roll in the hay will put an end to this ridiculous feud we have going on?”

  “No, but I do think it’s what both of us need.” He moved forward, and on instinct, I moved back until I hit the handrail and couldn’t go any farther. Pushing against me with his chest, he dip
ped his head lower. “I’m not the type to ask permission to kiss a girl. If you don’t want me to, tell me or stop me at any time.”

  Within the next beat of my heart, his lips were on mine and he was kissing me breathless once again. I struggled half-heartedly for zero point two seconds, but he kept going until I couldn’t help kissing him back. Not only was he a damn good kisser, but he was right. I wanted him too.

  In all the time since our last kiss, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it. I’d fantasized so many times about doing it again that now that I had my chance, I didn’t want to pass it up.

  Whatever it said about me that I was devouring my enemy like he was the candy bar I never got around to delivering, I didn’t care. I never thought I was the kind of person to get turned on by confrontation, a sharp tongue, or a man I could barely stand to look at, but apparently, that was exactly my thing.

  A minute with him, and all my reservations, inhibitions, and good intentions flew out the window. I wanted to climb him like a tree, to never stop kissing him but also to never have to see or speak to him again. It was the weirdest darn thing, but I’d never claimed to be normal.

  “I’m not trying to destroy another one of your careers,” he managed to say between kisses. “It was just my turn to make a move.”

  “You’re an asshole.” Even as I said it, I wound my arms around his neck and crashed my lips back to his. There was nothing gentle or tender about this kiss. It was all about need, revenge, control. “Are you planning on blackmailing me with that footage?”

  “I don’t need blackmail material, baby. I just needed proof that you weren’t the perfect little hero they’re making you out to be.” He nipped my lower lip before pulling back, bringing his ravenous mouth to my neck and no doubt leaving his mark on my skin.

  “I never claimed to be a hero.” My head arched back, giving him better access while also crushing my breasts against his chest. I tugged on the strands of his soft hair harder than necessary, but he groaned his encouragement and doubled his own efforts.

  One of his hands was on my hip, his fingers gripping me so hard I was sure he was marking me there too. I didn’t mind it, though. Hooking up with him once was crazy enough. There wouldn’t be a repeat performance. If I wanted the full Benjamin Reed experience, and I did, this was my one chance to get it.

  The elevator doors opened on his floor, mercifully having carried us there without stopping for any other guests to climb onboard. I vaguely wondered if it was one of those express elevators for the rich people who got the penthouse suites and didn’t want to have to deal with sharing even the ride up with us mere mortals, but Ben kissed the thought from my mind before I could ask.

  We stumbled out of the elevator with me still wrapped around him, our mouths still coming together over and over again. He guided me down the hall to his suite, his shirt already hanging half open by the time a low beep told me he’d managed to unlock his door.

  It slammed shut behind us, but it was like the crashing sound brought me back to my senses. This is getting way out of hand.

  With my hands firmly on his chest, I shoved him away and tried not to notice how unfairly sexy he looked with his hair mussed, shirt open, lips swollen, and eyes smoldering. His chest was rising and falling fast as he glared at me.

  “What was that all about?”

  I gulped in breath after breath, attempting to get my thoughts under control along with my libido. “We can’t do this, Ben. This can’t go any further than it already has.”

  “Why not?” A furrow appeared between his dark eyebrows. “Are you seeing somebody else?”

  “You know I’m not. I’d never have let you kiss me if I was.” Closing my eyes, I willed myself to stop staring at his damn chest. It looked smooth and—No. Just no.

  An exasperated expression flicked across his features as he shoved a hand into his hair. “What’s the problem then?”

  “The problem,” I emphasized the word so he’d realize how big of a deal it was, “is that you and I are terrible for each other.”

  “Agreed,” he said simply. “I’m not asking you to marry me here, Tori. We don’t have to be good for each other to be good together.”

  “Fine. I’ll give you that much.” I planted my hands on my hips, losing my battle to stop ogling him completely. “The other problem is that I don’t trust that this isn’t just another one of your dirty tricks. Why can’t you just leave me alone, Benjamin Reed?”

  “It’s not a trick,” he said, and for just a moment, I saw the fight draining out of his eyes. “And to answer your other question. I don’t know. I don’t know why I can’t leave you alone. I wish I could. All I know is that I’ve tried, and I can’t.”

  The startling honesty of his statement and the look in his eyes when he made it shocked me. So when he closed the distance between us in two long strides, cupped my cheeks in his big hands, and kissed me again like the ship was going down, I let him.

  Because the truth was that I didn’t really want him to leave me alone. Not now and maybe not ever.

  Chapter 22

  BEN

  Although I lived less than ten miles from this hotel, I’d rented a suite for tonight’s event. I’d told myself when I checked in that it was so I wouldn’t waste any time before getting the chance to gloat over my victory. All I’d need to do was ride the elevator up and then watch the footage in the comfort of my own space.

  Not so deep down inside, though, I’d hoped having the suite would come in handy for other things. In the back of my mind, I’d known it was more about the possibility of getting Victoria up to my room and finally having my way with her.

  God, she looks sexy in that outfit. Between the barely there dress and her high-spirited attitude, I was really fucking turned on. Kissing her and having her body pressed so tightly against mine that a sheet of paper wouldn’t fit between us definitely wasn’t helping the situation much.

  While it was true that I’d hoped I’d get her up here to do exactly what we were doing right now, I also wanted to talk to her. Plotting my revenge—and even getting the video—hadn’t been nearly as satisfying as I’d thought it might be.

  And that made me rethink my strategy.

  Constantly warring with myself over this woman was getting real old, real fast. Perhaps if we could just have a proper conversation, no further shots needed to be fired. This feud we had going really was ridiculous, and it was time to put an end to it.

  Grudgingly slowing the kiss, I held her face in my hands and pulled back to look into her eyes while stroking her cheekbones lightly with my thumbs. “You have no idea how hard I’ve tried to forget all about you, but I can’t.”

  “So, what? You’re determined to ruin my life? To make it so that I can’t work any job in this city? Is that what you want? To run me out of my own town like I’m some bandit from an old Western?”

  The accusation in her tone didn’t get to me nearly as much as the hurt fighting with hope for dominance in her eyes. I let out a low groan before kissing her again, fiercely and fast, trying to get the message across that I didn’t want any of those things.

  “I’ve only done to you what you’ve done to me, Tori. I—”

  Her eyes rounded as she arched a brow, not pushing me away but also not melting into me anymore. She closed her fingers around my wrists and pulled my hands away from her face, her body stiffening.

  “There’s no comparison, Ben,” she fired back, spitting out my name like she hated the shape of it forming in her mouth. “You’re a billionaire and I’m just a regular person. Don’t you have better things to do?”

  “You’re not just a regular woman. Not to me.” I let her see the barely controlled hunger in my eyes and feel it when I ground my hips into her lower belly. “You’re the hottest woman I’ve ever seen. And no. I’ll never have anything better to do than you.”

  “Why not?” she asked, her voice quieter this time. Apparently, regardless of how tonight had started, neither of us fe
lt much like fighting anymore.

  Tori just seemed tired now. Not defeated. Just as tired of fighting with me as I was of fighting with her—or against my attraction to her.

  I sighed, lowering my forehead until it touched hers. “I don’t know. You’re all I think about. It doesn’t matter what I’m supposed to be doing, you’re always lurking right there at the edges of my mind. I want you, but you already know that.”

  “It all comes down to sex then? That’s what this is about?”

  No, I don’t think so. Not anymore. But I couldn’t exactly tell her that. She’d think I’d lost every marble I’d ever had.

  Frankly, she wouldn’t be wrong. I thought so too, but until I could explain why I still couldn’t leave her alone despite knowing all this, there was no point in trying to put it into words.

  I’d already said “I don’t know” enough times tonight. There was no use burdening her with my crazy when I could see she had her own doubts and uncertainties to deal with.

  Tori looked at me with those uniquely blue eyes, and I practically heard her begging me to be the one to walk away.

  But I couldn’t.

  Not like this. Not from this.

  Eventually, I gave her the only answer I knew to be true and that still made sense. “It couldn’t hurt, right? Well, I suppose it could if that’s your thing, but it’s not mine.”

  “It’s not mine either,” she whispered, still peering up at me with equal doses of indecision and want in her eyes. “This is a mistake.”

  “It wouldn’t be a bigger one than we’ve already made with each other.” I took a step back, even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. “It’s your decision to make. I’ve already told you that I won’t ask for permission. I want you to surrender to me tonight. I want to feel all that passion you’ve been fighting me with underneath me. If you say yes, I’ll spend the next few hours pleasuring you more than you’ve ever been.”