Billionaires On the Beach: The Anderson Brothers

by Elizabeth Lennox

“I am not inexperienced. On Van’s birthday I drank too much and—I don’t want to tell that story.”

  “Don’t tell me, then. Just put down the spoon.”

  Laine set the spoon down and found she was shy all at once. No more banter, no more innuendo. Only silence and the darkness from the windows and the candles burning low. He grinned at her, wicked and pleased with himself, just like the first time she saw him plummet from the sky and knock her over.

  “Upstairs?” he offered. She shook her head.

  “If we wait to go upstairs, I’ll have time to think better of it.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll make sure you can’t think at all,” he promised, and, true to his word, he kissed her until every speck of reality was burned out of her. There was nothing but the swirling heat and the sweep of his tongue in her mouth.

  Wyatt kissed her like no other man ever had. Everything was sharp and clear, not clouded by shots or too many margaritas. Every brush of his clever fingers along her neck, each flick of his tongue at her collarbone gave her a strong rush of sensation, powerful and fierce as an icy flame. He tugged the strap of her top off her shoulder and stroked the exposed skin.

  He kissed the spot on her shoulder where a smattering of freckles dusted her smooth skin. She’d stood there long enough, letting things happen. She wrapped her arms around him, dipped her head and captured his mouth with hers, letting him know for just a moment exactly how she felt about him. Ever since they played with his GoPro for their cooking segment, she’d known she was a goner. Laine knew she was his. And he deserved to know that, even if she didn’t have the courage to say it aloud.

  A few more fiery kisses and he had peeled off all of her clothes. Wyatt lifted her onto the counter, her hip against the cold pint of melting ice cream. She wondered with a giggle if the ice cream would burst into flames from all the sparks they were generating. She yanked off his shirt, her hands greedy for the strong, smooth back, the dark lines of the tattoo, the smell of him, musky and intoxicating. This time she didn’t have to scold herself for wanting to lick his neck. Now she could, and she did. One long, slow lick from his shoulder all along his neck and up to his ear. She nipped at his earlobe and his arms tightened around her. She parted her thighs and he stepped between them reaching up to cup her breast, stroking and rubbing it.

  Laine felt weak with desire, a whimper escaping her lips as he kissed her neck. He released her for a moment and she propped herself up on her hands, braced on the edge of the counter, legs dangling above the floor as he divested himself of his shorts. She saw the size of him, the hard thickness jutting out. Instinctively, she parted her legs even more, wanting him, every inch of him. He came toward her then, his hands stroking her stomach, trailing down between her legs and teasing her with light strokes that made her quiver and bite down on a plea for more.

  Wyatt braced his hands on either side of her and, in one swift motion, thrust deep within her. “Ahh!” she cried in bliss as he moved inside her. The easy rhythm of in and out, the hard slide of his length pushing into her. There was nothing in the world but the two of them, the full pressure of his invasion, the dig of her nails into the wood of the cabinet beneath her as her fingers curled around the edge of the stone countertop. She could feel every inch of him, the size and the power of his thrusts as he claimed her. Laine belonged to him as she’d never belonged to another man, panting he rocked into her. One arm snaked around her hips and his palm flattened in the small of her back slick with sweat. He was anchoring her, going deeper now. She ground against him, flinging her arms around his neck and holding on for dear life.

  Wyatt’s other hand slid between them, and she felt something on his hand, some plastic gadget and she pulled back to look at him questioningly. Soon, a tiny vibrator on his finger pressed between them, exactly at the spot that seemed so frantic. She gasped, his tongue filling her mouth, and he rubbed the humming finger vibe against her until she was screaming, coming around him hard in shudders as jolts of white hot pleasure ripped through her. Her vision whited out and her head fell back. Her cries subsided into great gulps of air and sobs, her hands fisted in his hair as he drove into her and spilled with a shout, his mouth on her neck. She loosened her grip on his curls and panted, her head against his shoulder. He kissed the top of her head, her tumbled hair sweaty against his lips. She licked the salt of his skin at his collarbone, her arms around him. When he withdrew from her body, she shuddered again, an aftershock of her orgasm rippling along her legs and up her stomach.

  “So, was that the best you’ve ever had?” he chuckled, and his voice was teasing enough not to sound totally egotistical.

  “All I can say is, if you showed up with a crate of those little vibes I’d make you high priest of a North Carolina cargo cult,” Laine said with a shaky laugh. “Because I’m ready to believe you’re a demigod after all.”

  “I’m glad I didn’t disappoint.”

  “Disappoint? We need to take this upstairs and consider all the possibilities,” she said, eyes shining.

  “No offense, but I don’t think your legs will hold you. Mind if I carry you?”

  “Anytime,” she said, burying her face in his neck and letting him lift her, step over the pile of their clothes and head upstairs.

  Chapter 8

  It was hell the next few days getting anything done. There were calls to return, potential startups to invest in, research to review. But there was Laine, five feet of brunette temptation, stretched out on the couch with The Terminator on at top volume or curled up in the window seat with a puzzle book, or in the kitchen making her own guacamole. Everyplace he saw her, he had to stop what he was supposed to be doing and make love to her instead. Time after time, he left his office space for a bottle of green juice and wound up with his pants around his ankles and Laine bent over the arm of the couch or in a bubble bath, her skin slick with jasmine scented foam.

  Wyatt had managed to iron out the Goldwyn deal. He’d prospected a new online image-sharing app that would make Snapchat look quaint and outdated. He’d assured Sloan repeatedly that he had answered all his monitor calls promptly and his case officer had corroborated that. He managed all this on perhaps three hours’ sleep a night and less than half his usual focus. Because Laine was crowding every detail out of his mind. He’d barely managed to drag himself away for Tiki time every day, and his heart wasn’t in it.

  He got used to fielding business calls with one hand up Laine’s t-shirt or trying to read an email while she unzipped his pants. So when his phone rang as he was sitting on the edge of the tub, soaping Laine’s wet hair while she drooped against the bath limp from a particularly strong orgasm, he answered the call without looking at the ID screen.

  “Hey, Wy, it’s Zadie. I’m here to see you. Does your staff not answer the door in this place?” his ex-girlfriend’s unwelcome voice blared out of the speaker.

  His eyes flitted left and right in panic as if he could escape. He was under house arrest. He couldn’t pretend not to be at home. How could he get rid of her? Without Laine seeing her? Because Zadie wasn’t just a top model, she was an ace surfer as well. They had everything in common—gorgeous, rich, adrenaline fueled—and the sex had been some of the most daring he’d ever had. Sure, she got on his nerves so they broke up, but Laine would take one look at Zadie and her self-confidence would be crushed. He wished he were anywhere but here.

  “Right, be right there. I was just—in the middle of something.” Wyatt wiped his sudsy hands on a towel, “We’ve got company, Laine. So much for playing strip Operation after the bath. An old friend of mine is here and I have to get rid of her but it may take a while.”

  “Old friend like she was the kindly librarian at Exeter or old friend like you used to fuck her on a yacht?”

  “The latter, I’m afraid,” he said. “So when you come down, we’re a couple. You and me, hot and heavy, serious as possible, got it?”

  “Uh—no way. This… this is just a fling, right?”

  His f
lippant reply caught in his throat. In fact, he felt like he’d had the wind knocked out of him. Because she was so quick to say that what they were meant nothing. It was a shock to even think that, but there it was. He tried to play it off.

  “Of course it is, but how would she know that? Just play along. Consider it your sovereign duty as my nanny to cover for me.”

  “Fine, I’ll get dressed. If you weren’t a truly superior lay, I wouldn’t put up with this crap,” she teased, climbing out of the bath.

  Wyatt swung the door open and saw Zadie in all her tanned, blonde glory, wearing perhaps ten square inches of turquoise fabric in total. Her short dress was really two small pieces linked by a narrow strip of material down one side. Zadie flung her arms around him.

  “My poor, Wy! I wish I could take you surfing,” she laughed, rubbing up against him.

  He stifled a groan. He wanted her to leave. At the same time, he knew that she moved in the same social circles as Sloan and his wife. So Zadie could be a useful informant. All he had to do was convince her that he was keeping the terms of his punishment and settling down nice and cozy with a good girl. Laine was wholesome as apple pie and a picket fence. She was, in fact, the perfect human shield in his quest to become the godfather of Sloan’s baby. It was amazing he hadn’t thought of it before. So when Laine bustled in, he had disentangled himself from Zadie and pulled Laine into his arms for a kiss. A deep, searching kiss that belonged more in the final scene of a romantic drama than in the living room with the ex-girlfriend.

  Baffled, Laine pulled away and smiled shakily, “Hi. I’m Laine, I’m Wyatt’s—“

  “Beloved. She was going to say girlfriend, because she’s modest, but you know me, I’m all in or nothing. So let’s go ahead and call a spade a spade, Lainey, you’re the love of my life. Now, Zadie here will keep it all in the family. She practically grew up with my brothers and me. We’re not going public with the relationship yet, but the house arrest has made a new man of me. I guess Sloan was right—never tell him I said that—I wasn’t ever going to grow up if I didn’t sit still long enough.”

  “You do seem different. Sort of manic, actually,” Zadie laughed, “I’m Esmerelda Davenaugh, of the shipping Davenaughs. My brother Zachary went to school with a couple of the Anderson boys and we all summered together from time to time. How did you two meet?”

  “The agency…” Laine began faintly. Wyatt took over, snuggling her closer to him on the couch.

  “It’s a cute story, if you’d believe it. Laine was the minder Sloan sent to watch over me so I didn’t screw up my house arrest and wind up in jail.”

  “So now the inmates are running the asylum because your mighty dick has hypnotized the jailer?” Zadie snorted.

  “Oh, I’m not a jailer,” Laine said, “I’m more of a Jiminy Cricket type, here to remind him of his better nature,” she smiled. For a moment, he was struck by the image of Laine as the angel sitting on his shoulder whispering about his responsibilities and he laughed.

  “I think your halo’s a little crooked,” he said, “Must be all that time in the tub.” He grinned at her slyly and watched her squirm a little uncomfortably at the memory. He was enjoying this—both the charade and the excitement of having a secret with Laine and making Zadie think they were a serious item. It felt fun and daring, but it also felt good, deep down good in some warm way that was like joy.

  He stroked her bare arm below the strap of her tank top and watched her wriggle in annoyance. “I’m glad you stopped by, Zadie. Even if it was to taunt me about the surf. It’s a good thing I’ve got plenty here to keep me busy.”

  “Right you are, Wyatt. It was good to meet you, Laine. I expect I’ll be seeing you at the round of benefits this fall. We always run into Wyatt and his brothers at those.” Zadie took her leave and Wyatt slid a look at Laine, who vaulted off the couch, indignant, and bundled her hair into a ponytail and went off, presumably in search of a Sudoku to calm herself.

  Wyatt checked his email and waited for his phone to start ringing, which it did in a matter of twenty minutes. “So, you and the nanny?” Sloan said without preamble.

  “It’s your own fault. She looks like a model, Sloan.”

  “From what I hear, it’s not all looks and lust.”

  “I see Zadie moves as fast as ever with gossip.”

  “It doesn’t take a detective, Wyatt. Your Insta feed’s been empty of shocking photos and you haven’t been blowing up social media about how bored you are. I still remember the time you had a root canal and posted twenty status updates from the waiting room. Either you’ve got a secret Twitter account we don’t know yet or you’re living life instead of dazzling your millions of followers.”

  “I’ve been living life to the fullest for years now. I did want to talk to you anyway. I don’t want you to bring the baby here. I’d love to see him, all of you, but I don’t want him to see the bionic bracelet on my leg because it might scare him. Just—wait until I’m done. Okay?” he said, shutting his eyes.

  The thought of his sweet nephew grabbing at his house arrest anklet and wondering what it was broke his heart. He didn’t want to be a disappointment for this boy. He wanted to be a better man than that.

  “That’s weirdly adult of you. I may have to meet this Laine. Is this newfound consideration for others her influence? Or are you growing up?”

  “Both. Anyway, I have a bunch of texts chiming on my phone so I’m guessing the news has gotten around. I’ll talk to you later.”

  Wyatt scanned the mounting list of messages on his screen, most of which linked to a news article online about how his wild past was behind him. Clearly, Zadie had spread the news better than he’d ever hoped, since now his eldest brother would have plenty of headlines to remind him that Wyatt was a reformed bad boy. Perfect godfather material, in other words.

  He made another call and then set off to find Laine. She obviously wanted to be found if she stayed within the house and grounds, because if she truly wished to avoid him, all she’d have to do was head past the property line. She was in the sitting room sorting property cards by color in the Monopoly game box. He dropped into a chair beside her. “Want to play?” he offered.

  “No. You’re a venture capitalist, right? Business prospects and real estate holdings and all that? You’re overqualified for Monopoly.”

  “Did you hate pretending to be my girlfriend?”

  “I hated sitting there, knowing that this perfect girl knew what we’d been doing and was thinking how you were so out of my league.”

  “I’m not, you know. Even if she thought that, she wouldn’t get a vote. The thing is, it’s all over the gossip sites that we’re getting married. That wedding bells are in our future and you’ve reformed my bad boy ways.”

  “That would be one hell of a reference to the nanny agency from house arrest to upstanding citizen, all thanks to me. But I have to say, I doubt my tactics would be welcome in most family homes.”

  “You’re sounding a little cynical. What’s up?”

  “I get the idea you’re using me. Not just for sex because I’m convenient, but because you want to work on your image or something. Am I right?”

  “I’m not using you. Apart from the way, we’re using each other because we’re stuck here together and otherwise it’s pretty damn lonely. I want to be my nephew’s godfather. My brother wants someone responsible to be a real role model and I’m not good enough, not the way I was.”

  “Anyone who thinks you’re not good enough is full of shit. And I don’t see how boning the help is the key to rehabbing your image as a fine role model.”

  “Because I’m not boning the help, Laine, I’m in love and ready to settle down and be a family man. People love those headlines. Even my brother, who’d never admit he reads them. So you tell them a fairy tale they want to believe and they’ll buy it.”

  “Speaking of cynical,” she said.

  “The good news is, at Tiki time, you’re coming with me.”

 
; “I told you, if a pro couldn’t teach me to surf, I doubt you can.”

  “We’re not surfing. We’re paragliding. It’s definitely something you’ll love—very gentle, not like skydiving or anything. It’s a beautiful view and I’ll be with you the whole time. Please?” he said, his most winning smile doing its work.

  Her initial resistance seemed to melt away. She even bounded up to change into her bikini. Just thinking about that bikini and the Bond girl moment of her running out of the surf in it made him want to drag her back to bed instead of going out for Tiki time.

  Chapter 9

  Laine couldn’t quit grinning.

  Wyatt had no idea how happy he’d made her when he explained that he wanted to be his nephew’s godfather. He wasn’t using her to rebuild a business image. He’d confirmed her suspicions that he was a good guy, not just a bad boy. So she hurried down to join him for paragliding even though it scared her a little. Because she trusted him.

  Because he was the first man to make her fall in love. After years of believing she’d never have a real family because her parents had always chosen their exciting adventures and their fame over her, she’d found someone who made her feel like the only person in the world who mattered. She wanted to twirl and sing and run into his arms and never leave them.

  When the alarm on his smartwatch buzzed, they burst through the gate together and ran down to the beach hand in hand, laughing. He caught her in his arms, lifted her up and kissed her. He was still kissing her when the crew came up with the equipment.

  She listened, eyes wide, as they explained how she would be the passenger on the tandem flight. The guys on crew who secured the equipment assured her that Wyatt was an experienced pilot. The word pilot freaked her out, because she had thought this was more like parasailing and they’d be tethered to a boat. She was buckled into a harness in front of Wyatt with the yellow wing at their back. He gave her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “I got this. Just enjoy the ride,” he said. She could hear the excitement in his voice and decided to be flattered he wanted to share this with her.