Start Again Series: A Billionaire Romance Box Set

by J. Saman

  I don’t know why that’s the reaction I have to him holding me, but it is. He steps back, tilting my face up to his.

  “Why are you crying?” Concern is etched on his handsome face. I didn’t realize I was, so I have no answer for that.

  “Sir? Is everything okay? Should I call for some help?” That’s the guy who congratulated me, and I think it’s time I start talking before they have me committed.

  “Yes,” I wipe my face with my hands and smile. “I’m fine. Just surprised I won is all.”

  The guy nods at me like this reaction happens all the time, then hands me my chips, which is evidently several thousands of dollars.

  “What the hell did I miss while I was working?” Ryan’s flabbergasted. I don’t blame him. This is a lot of money, and he hasn’t even seen what I’m hiding in my bag.

  I look up at his bewildered face, reaching up to touch his prickly, soft, nearly-black beard.

  “So I was walking around the casino when I met a man named Mo. He taught me how to play craps. His daughter died at seventeen in a drunk-driving accident on prom night. I rolled the dice and won insane money,” I’m rambling a mile a minute, but can’t seem to stop the verbal diarrhea. “Then Mo left, and I was walking around like some mindless zombie for I don’t know how long. I saw the roulette table and I decided to play nineteen,” I point to the table we’re still next to. Amazingly, Ryan is standing here listening to me, and not running off screaming from my crazy. “Because it’s the date of Eric and Maggie’s birthdays,” I blow out a breath. “And I won, Ryan. I won everything, and Mo told me to remember the happiness of their lives and not the sorrow of their deaths, and I’m just so tired of being sad. I want to think of them and be happy that I had them in my life, because they both made me so incredibly happy. Does that make sense?”

  He brushes his knuckles along my jaw and nods with a half-smile that says I may be onto something.

  God I hope so.

  My head falls into his chest and his arms wrap around me, holding me to him like I’m precious. He kisses the top of my head.

  “We should go cash in your chips. Get them out of your bag and then feed you. Do you want me to take care of that?” I nod into him. I love how he knows exactly what I need. “Come with me, sweetheart.”

  And I do.

  I might just follow Ryan Grant anywhere.

  17

  Kate

  * * *

  The mild October air outside the casino is like a balm on my overheated skin and muddled brain. Ryan holds my hand, swinging it a little between us as we walk down the Strip. I imagine we make quite the odd couple.

  He’s so tall and I’m so short in comparison.

  “What are you in the mood to eat?” He’s as casual as ever, acting as though I didn’t just have some sort of minor psychotic event back there.

  Why does he have to be so wonderful? I mean, I’m not looking for judgment or anything, but he makes me seem so…normal, when I feel anything but.

  I think on this for a moment. “I want a Vegas-style buffet.” He turns to look at me. “You know, the kind with everything from caviar to egg rolls to breakfast. I’m talking a full boat, self-indulgent, glutinous dining experience.”

  He’s giving me that crooked smile that I like so much, and his green, bespectacled eyes are laughing at me. “You got it,” he winks, and I can’t help but beam at him. Is it wrong that I want to climb him like a tree in the middle of the sidewalk? Probably.

  Ryan doesn’t miss a beat, just keeps walking, so I follow. Sure enough, a few minutes later, we’re headed into Caesars. The buffet is as promised. An all-encompassing dining experience. We eat a million different kinds of food and talk about nothing of importance, and it is beyond perfect.

  So perfect, in fact, that when we leave to head back to our hotel, I want to die.

  “I need to throw up everywhere,” I groan, holding my severely bloated belly. “Thank god I’m wearing yoga pants,” I look up at him. “That’s all I’m saying.”

  Ryan laughs out, but I know he’s feeling this hurt too. “I don’t think I’ve ever eaten so much in my life.”

  “Ditto,” I groan again, rubbing my food baby.

  “Do you want to cab it back to the hotel?”

  “No, I need to burn off the eight thousand calories I just consumed.”

  “Right,” he deadpans. “That should only take us twenty years. What are you going to do with the money you won?”

  I shrug. “I don’t suppose you’d take it to even the expense score?”

  He shakes his head with a smirk. “No way, I was promised sexual favors for that.”

  I snap my fingers in an aw-shucks way. “Ah, that’s right. Damn. Then I guess I’ll save it, or donate it, or both. I really don’t know.”

  We make it back to our room, and I swear we both waddle our way into the bedroom, where I proceed to flop down onto the bed. He climbs in beside me, pulling me up so I’m sitting next to him, leaning against the headboard and his arm.

  “Don’t you think it’s weird that we met once upon a time as kids, only to meet again as adults and go on this insane trip together?”

  “I guess so,” he shrugs a shoulder. “You haven’t changed much since you were six, you know.” He looks down at me with his crooked smile.

  “How can you remember me so well? It was ages ago.”

  “You did make quite the impression—” I can hear the smile in his voice, “—especially knocking that huge chocolate cake onto the floor.”

  I bolt upright, staring at him with wide eyes, and startling him a bit. “That was you?” I ask, bewildered. There’s just no way.

  “What do you mean?” he looks confused.

  “I remember dropping that cake.”

  He smiles, pleased. “You ran off crying. I followed you, since you went into my room.” I get an eyebrow for that. “For some reason you went in there to pout. You were more upset about not getting to eat the cake than you were about your mother yelling at you,” he chuckles lightly at that.

  Sitting back on my haunches, I inch towards him on the bed until my knees are touching his thigh. With my hand covering my mouth, I speak through my fingers. “You sat me on your lap.” I cannot believe that was him. “And ran your hands down my hair while I cried before you kissed my cheek and said—”

  “Don’t worry, Katie,” he interrupts, repeating what he said to me that day. “When we’re old and married, I’ll buy you cake whenever you want.”

  I nod, so totally mystified. “Yes. How was that you?”

  He laughs. “What’s the big deal? You’re looking at me like I’m a ghost, or a figment of your imagination or something.”

  “Dude,” I reach out and smack his shoulder. “Because you basically are.” I can’t get over this. I crawl onto his lap so I’m straddling his thighs, his hands automatically come up to grasp my hips. “Your hair was lighter,” I run my fingers through his dark strands. “And when we left your house, I cried a lot. I told my mother that I had met a prince and since I couldn’t remember your name, I called you Peter.”

  He laughs lightly, smiling a lot. He likes this story. “Peter?”

  “Yup. You reminded me of Peter Parker for some reason, but I was heavy into princesses at the time, so I thought you were my prince. I held onto that, onto you, for a very long time.”

  “Really?” He’s having trouble believing me.

  “Promise. But as time went by, you became more of an imaginary friend than a memory or a real person, but you always saved me.” I lean forward to kiss his lips softly, before pulling back and resting my head against his hard chest. His hand runs down my hair, much the way it had that day twenty-one years ago.

  “I begged my mother every day to have you come and visit us, or to have us go see you.” The sound of his speaking vibrates through his chest into my ear. His heart beat a steady staccato. “I was ten, and you were only six, but I couldn’t get you out of my head,” he lets out a shaky breath
, my head rising and falling with the effort. “I saw you again when I was twenty-two, and you were eighteen.”

  I sit up in his lap, staring him in the eyes. “What?” I scrunch my eyebrows in confusion. “When?”

  He smiles, but his eyes are hesitant, nervous even. “It was my last semester at school and I was returning to Boston from a weekend at home. My mother had given me a package of some kind to deliver to your mother, so I went to your house to drop it off.” My mouth pops open. “I rang the bell, and no one was home, so I left the box on the front step, when a car pulled into the driveway. A girl with dark hair was driving, and when you stepped out of the car, our eyes met, and you smiled at me.” He runs his hand across my cheek and through my hair tenderly. “The second I saw you, my breath caught in my chest.” A small smile curls the corners of his lips and his eyes sparkle, full of memories. “I couldn’t even speak. It was like I had been stunned. I knew who you were instantly, and I figured you wouldn’t recognize me, but just as I was about to call out to you, a guy—who I assume was Eric—got out of the car and diverted your attention away from me. He put his arm around your waist and pulled you in for a quick kiss, and any nerve I had died right there.”

  I don’t know what to say to that, so I just sit here and stare at him in quiet disbelief.

  “I was almost done with school and I knew I’d be leaving Boston. You were only eighteen, not even graduated from high school yet, and you clearly had a boyfriend. So I left without speaking to you, even though I really wanted to.” He leans forward to kiss my lips, pulling back to rest his forehead against mine for only a moment. “You stayed with me after that day, again,” he emphasizes. “One way or another, Katie, you’ve been on my mind since I was ten years old. That’s why when my mother told me you were leaving Boston, driving across the country, and were willing to take me, I called you. I debated it, believe me, I did. I knew what you’d been through. That you’d lost Eric and Maggie,” he grimaces a little as he says their names, like he’s afraid of hurting me.

  It does hurt. It always will, but I need to start being okay with that hurt instead of always running from it.

  “But I also knew that if I didn’t at least contact you and see what your situation was, I’d always regret it.” He leans forward, dropping his forehead to mine again. “And Katie? I’m so fucking happy I made that call. Whatever happens—or doesn’t happen for that matter—I’ll never regret these weeks with you.”

  “I’m scared,” I whisper before I can stop the words.

  “I know, baby. Me too.”

  “I don’t know what to do, Ryan. I really don’t.”

  He cups my cheek, holding me in place so I have to meet his eyes. “We don’t have to decide anything now. We can just continue on and see where we end up. I don’t want to pressure you, Katie. I don’t. I’m in this no matter the outcome, but I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what I’m hoping for,” he sighs out. “But I’ll take what I can get with you. Even if it’s just friendship. I’m okay with that. I just want you around.”

  I have no answers. I’m all unknowns and paradoxes.

  So I kiss him. I run my fingers through his beard and I kiss him hard. Telling him with my lips what I can’t with my words.

  “Katie,” he whispers against me reverently. I love it when he does that. He groans, running his hands through my hair and down my back to the top of my bottom, where he freezes.

  I’m tired of all these rules.

  I’m tired of a lot lately, but I know in my soul that I’ll never find another man like Ryan. If I’m going to sleep with anyone else again, I can’t think of anyone I’d rather do that with than him. Reaching up, I pull my shirt over my head, making him gasp.

  “Katie?” This time it’s a question.

  My fingers find his hair again. “I want you to touch me, Ryan.”

  His eyes turn into twin pools of heat and he swallows hard. “Are you sure?”

  I take his hands away from the back of my hips and place them on my lace-covered breasts, eliciting a moan from both of us. “Jesus, Katie.”

  His mouth finds mine again and he gets to work with his hands on my chest. I reach behind my back and unclasp my bra, letting the straps fall from my shoulders before taking it off and tossing it aside.

  Then Ryan loses it.

  I’m on my back on the bed before I can even process how I got there. His mouth and hands find me. My lips, my neck, my chest, my nipples. The pads of his thumbs roll across my nipples as he squeezes my breasts. I moan. So loud. My head falls back and my eyes shut. I’m so close already. His mouth takes over, nipping and sucking and even biting lightly.

  “So perfect,” he hums against me, the sound reverberating through me, settling every single place I need it to. It’s the most incredible thing. This is the most incredible thing.

  It’s been more than two years since I’ve been touched by a man, and Ryan certainly knows what he is doing. I can’t stop the buildup, and he’s only on my boobs. I come. I come so hard I see stars behind my eyes as my back arches, pushing my breasts further into Ryan’s greedy mouth. I cry out loud and long, and when I’m done, I realize Ryan is watching me. I blush something fierce.

  “Don’t be like that,” he kisses me. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Katie. I could watch you all day, every day, and never grow tired of it.”

  I smile up at him. “Come here.” I reach for him, and he kisses me happily. Grabbing the hem of his shirt, I pull it up and over his head, running my hands all over his chest and back. And god, his muscles. They’re just…absolutely perfect. All I know is that I want more of him. He helps me out of my yoga pants, and I help him out of his jeans.

  His warm, slightly calloused hand glides down the smooth expanse of my stomach until he finds my pussy. My eyes cinch shut and a shaky breath passes my lips.

  “Open your eyes, Katie. Look at me so I know this is okay.”

  I do open my eyes and this is so much more than okay. It’s new and it’s scary and I’m nervous as hell, but I trust Ryan. I trust him and I want this. His eyes are locked on mine as his fingers swipe against me, rubbing my clit before they sink inside of me.

  My eyes are closing again when he says, “Open. Watch me touch you, Katie.”

  Oh God.

  “It feels too good,” I pant, and I can practically feel his smile even though my eyes are still closed. His mouth finds mine, kissing me with ardor as his fingers slide in and out of me, rubbing my clit with firm, deliberate circles. I’m hovering on the brink. Already. How? I have no idea. But I’m not ready for another. I want to explore him. I push him onto his back. He chuckles at my enthusiasm, lying back and watching as I move against him.

  It doesn’t last long. There is only so much control we both have.

  We’re all mouths and hands, exploring and touching, kissing and tasting and licking each other like we have an endless amount of time. Neither of us are rushing the moment, wanting it to last forever.

  “Talk to me, Katie. If you want me to stop, I will.” He’s on me, skin to skin in the most delicious of ways. We’re both already sweaty and smiling, but I’m not done with him yet. I need more. I can’t seem to get enough.

  “No stopping, Ryan. I want you too much.”

  His eyes lock on mine. “I’ve wanted you for so long. So fucking long, Katie.” He kisses my lips, my cheek, the tip of my nose. My eyes close, and he kisses them too. “Look at me, sweetheart.” My eyes flutter open. “I want to look into your eyes when I’m inside you.” I moan just at his words alone, but when he slides inside of me, I’m a goner. My fingers grip onto his strong arms and my back arches. “So fucking beautiful,” he rasps. “You feel so good, Katie. Fucking unbelievable. So perfect.”

  I nod my head, my voice caught in my throat.

  We find our rhythm quickly, like we’ve been doing this forever, and it is perfect. Everything about it. The way he moves inside me. The way we move together. So different, and yet, so amazingly incredible. He rol
ls me so I’m on top, looking down on his gorgeous flushed face. His heavy-lidded eyes are burning into mine, the intensity like nothing I’ve ever felt before. My head rolls back, and I lose myself completely, riding him until we’re both moaning and panting. I come on him, and he follows a half-second behind, roaring out his release, before I collapse down onto his sweat-slicked chest with an exhausted, sated smile.

  “You do realize we’re ordering room service and never leaving this hotel room, right?” he asks, still breathing heavily, his fingers gliding up and down the skin of my back.

  “Oh good. More food,” I deadpan because I’m never eating again. I look up, resting my chin on his chest, him peering down at me. “I think I still have another six thousand calories to burn off. You up for the challenge, Mr. Grant?”

  He smiles that crooked smile and then flips me onto my back, grinding himself into me. “What does that tell you?” Christ, he’s already hard.

  “Hmm,” I purse my lips to the side, pretending to think about it. “I really couldn’t say. I think a closer inspection is warranted.”

  He laughs and kisses my lips. “A closer inspection, eh?”

  “Absolutely,” I nod emphatically. “How else am I supposed to formulate an educated opinion? I mean, I think this type of inspection could require hours of field research.”

  “Good,” he smiles wide. “I plan on testing you and your limits for several more hours.”

  Awesome. I’m so in.

  By the time we’re done with his testing and my research, we’re a heaping pile of smiles and sweat. You’d think showering together would help that, but it really doesn’t, and we end up testing more limits.

  I feel like I should be freaking out about now. Like crying in a corner, wanting to die, freaking out.

  But I’m not.

  I feel good. Happy. Satisfied.

  And I’m not sure how to feel about that. Ironic? Yeah, I get that. It’s weird, really. It’s been hours and multiple times, but I want more.

  And it’s not necessarily the sex, though that is fan-fucking-tastic.