Heartbreaker: Billionaires of White Oaks

by Scott, Lizabeth

  He chuckles and squeezes my hand. “Small towns are great. Have you ever wanted to live anywhere else?”

  Elias doesn’t turn my hand loose, and I’m good with that. “I’ve never really thought about it. I guess it’s just never been an option. I would like to travel someday. I’ve never really been out of North Carolina much. We went to Disney World when Rachael and I were ten, and our fifth-grade class went to Washington D. C. for a week. I’m afraid that’s the extent of my travels.”

  “If you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go?”

  I lean my head back against the seat and smile. “You’ll laugh.”

  He crosses his heart and grins, “I promise I will not laugh.”

  “I know you probably expect me to say some exotic and faraway place. I would like to travel abroad, but I’d just love to see all the sights our country has to offer. The places I’ve heard about, read about, and seen on television all my life. Those are the places I’d love to see.”

  “Like what?” he asks.

  “Well, like the Grand Canyon. I heard you can take a donkey tour to the floor of the canyon. And Niagara Falls. Sure, I’ve seen it in print and in movies plenty of times, but I’d love to feel the water misting over my face on one of those boat rides at the bottom of the falls. I’d love to go to Hollywood and see the sign and actually sit in the audience of some of my favorite shows. I’ve grown up surrounded by mountains and trees, and I can’t imagine what a desert would look like. I bet you’ve done all those things, haven’t you?”

  “Yeah, except attend shows. I’ve been on some of my favorite shows.”

  I watch his profile, and he seems genuinely interested. “I think I’ve seen you on several of them. Is Danni as funny and sweet as she seems on her show?”

  “Even more so. I’ve actually done some work for her on several of her houses. Well, I didn’t actually do the work—we just collaborated, and I oversaw the completion of the work. I’m too busy with my own schedule to do much more than that. You know, you should come out and visit our set.”

  That’s the first time he’s mentioned anything past the wedding. “Is that like an invitation?”

  He didn’t say anything for a full minute, then slowly nodded. “Yes. Consider this a formal invitation to visit me.”

  The fact that he had to stop and think about it made me pause with my own answer. I honestly don’t know if I want to see Elias after the end of next week. I already find him too compelling. So, I give him what I can live with. A vague answer. “Yeah, maybe.”

  He nods and asks, “Why don’t you travel now?”

  I watch the passing landscape as I answer. “Between the shop and working on the remodel, there’s just no time or money. We’ve sunk everything we have into the house.”

  He pauses. “It seems we both had family responsibilities change our directions in life.”

  “That’s why it’s so important to make White’s Manor a success. It’s the first thing Rachael and I have done that is just us. We never really considered buying the house or opening an event center. We’ve always loved the house. I use to dream about living there. When it came on the market, we never even considered buying it. The longer it sat with no interested buyers, the more it just seemed like it belonged to us. We did a lot of research and found that with Asheville being so close, an event center could be highly popular.”

  “You have a business plan?” he glances over and asks.

  “Of course.”

  “If what you’ve done for Belinda’s wedding is any indication, then I know you’ll be a huge success.” He squeezes my hand, and I feel all fluttery inside from his praise.

  We stopped for lunch at my favorite barbeque restaurant. Elias never had a barbeque sandwich with red slaw. Which, in my opinion, means he’s never had real pork barbeque. We’re very serious about our barbeque here in North Carolina. The rest of the trip home is spent in quiet reflection and simply getting to know each other. But not for a second did I forget our night together.

  By the time we pull into White Oaks Apartments, it’s late afternoon, and I debate whether or not to invite Elias up. I want to. Badly. And that’s why I think I maybe shouldn’t. Would he even want to come up? I’m making a big assumption that he would. And I’m rambling…in my mind. How pathetic is that?

  “April,” Elias says quietly.

  My internal debate halts. I turn my head, and our eyes connect. He’s been watching me intently through my ridiculous deliberation.

  He smiles and says, “Don’t overthink it.”

  How does he always know what I’m thinking? “Do you want to come in? We can work a bit on the wedding and then I can make you dinner. Nothing elaborate, I’m afraid. Probably nothing like you’re used to.” I don’t want him to go.

  “April,” he says, touching my chin.

  I tip my eyes upward and find the corner of his eyes crinkled in amusement.

  Our gazes meet, and he smiles. “I’d love to. But just because I enjoy spending time with you doesn’t mean we have to do anything more.”

  “Okay.” I agree, but if I’m being honest with myself, I hope that isn’t the case. We meet at the front of the car. Elias takes my hand again. I’m beginning to get used to having his fingers tangled with mine, which isn’t a smart move. Yet, I don’t pull away. I close my fingers around his, and he squeezes mine in return.

  Usually I can make it from the parking lot to the door of my apartment in three minutes. With Elias, it took more than thirty. Sometimes I forget I live in a hundred-year-old building that was once a thriving cotton mill. I don’t mind taking him on a tour of the building and explaining as much as I know about the original white oak floor, the handmade brick that came from a nearby brick mill, or how the new owner had taken care to keep the integrity of mill untouched while bringing modern efficiency to its residents.

  When we get off the freight elevator on the fourth floor, we’re still holding hands. I take my keys from my bag and unlock the door. I can feel the heat from his body behind me, and I lean into him. His arms wrap around my shoulders, and we walk inside, then he closes the door with his foot.

  I lead the way down the entry hall and into the living room. Elias stops just inside the doorway and takes in the room. It’s not that large in square feet, but the massive windows overlooking the river make it feel much bigger. The exposed brick and ductwork on the ceiling give it a rustic, industrial feel. I’d kept my furniture to a minimum, partly because I like to keep things neat and orderly, but mostly because it was all I could afford. A gray upholstered couch, a vintage cart coffee table that I’d scored at a flea market, and a big overstuffed chair were the only large pieces I had. Honestly, after working all day in the shop and then at the Manor, I’ve had little time to do much more than dust occasionally and keep my clothes washed. Which reminds me—I need to close my closet door. Elias doesn’t need to see my overflowing laundry hampers. If I don’t get around to washing soon, I’m going to run out of clean clothes. I refuse to act like my brothers and dig into the dirty clothes to do the sniff-and-wear method.

  The kitchen is open to the living room with a small dining table between the two. A short hallway leads to my bedroom and a hallway bath.

  Elias doesn’t miss a thing. “This is really incredible, April. Are all the apartments like this?”

  “Kinda. The one-bedrooms are mostly identical.”

  “I’ve been in a lot of industrial remodels. I’ve even done some, but nothing this historic. I can see the integrity of the mill everywhere.” He runs his hands over the interior brickwork.

  “See the building over there?” Elias moves closer to the window to see where I’m pointing. Our shoulders touch and my stomach flutters.

  “The one with the glass all around?” he asks and moves behind me, wrapping his arms around me and resting his chin on the top of my head.

  The intimacy of our position feels familiar and comfortable. “Yeah. That’s where the owner lives when h
e’s here.”

  His hands start to move up and down my arms. “Who is the owner?”

  Shivers speed through my body as his touch becomes more intimate. “He’s a really nice man. I’ve only met him a few times. From his accent, I’d say he’s from somewhere in England.” The flutters in my stomach are increasing. Some of my hair has escaped my ponytail, and his fingers move the strands behind my shoulder.

  The air in the room changes. “I should probably tell you, I can’t cook.” I have no idea where that came from. I know why Elias is here. To finish what we started last night. Why am I nervous? Maybe excited would be a better word.

  He looks like he doesn’t believe me. “At all?”

  I turn in his arms, and his green eyes miss nothing. “Well, between my mom, grandma, and Rachael, I never needed to learn.”

  “Soooo, takeout?”

  I can’t hold back a giggle, which calms my raging hormones a bit. “I think I can manage something for dinner.”

  His cheek touches mine as he whispers, “I know what I want for dinner.”

  Said previous calmness is gone in a second. I wobble, and Elias steadies me with a hand to my back. I know what I hoped he meant by that. And from the wetness between my legs, I’m totally onboard.

  He cups my face in his hands and feathers kisses over my lips. “Show me your bedroom, April.” His voice is deeply dominant.

  I’m quickly losing brain activity from his teasing lips. “My…bedroom,” I stutter.

  “Now, April,” he demands.

  All I can do is point. My feet leave the ground as Elias carries me down the hallway. From the moment he enters my bedroom until we are both naked, skin to skin, and on the bed had to be a world record. I run my hands over his chest, exploring the warm, firm muscles. I wander lower, and Elias’s breathing quickens.

  He hisses as my hands move lower. “I promised myself I was going to take this slow, but you’re making it very hard,” he admits.

  I give him what I hope is a seductive look. “I certainly am.” My hand covers him and squeezes. My inhibitions have disappeared, replaced by a compelling need to have Elias inside my body. Taking me fast and hard.

  “You are a little minx, aren’t you?” Elias says as I slowly work him with my hand. His breathing becomes labored and the sounds he’s making touch me deeply. “Okay, slow next time. Where’s the condoms?”

  I point to the bedside table. Elias rolls over, grabs one, and tears the wrapper. I bite my lip, watching intently as he rolls the rubber sleeve down his beautiful cock. Which I make note to explore in detail later. My eyes close as he slides into me in one smooth thrust. The sensation explodes throughout my body. I moan, arching my body closer to his. He’s big in both length and girth. He stretches me as I’ve never felt before. There is no pain, but I feel every inch of his cock.

  “You’re so tight.” He groans my name and begins to move. Slowly at first. Testing, learning, simply enjoying the coming together of our two bodies. He lifts my hips, adjusting until he finds the perfect angle to brush my clit with each slow, smooth stroke.

  “Elias!” My voice sounds desperate, breathless. My fingers dig into the hard skin of his back as I try to calm the intense sensation beginning to shimmer deep in my core. Again, he thrusts into me, this time not as smooth, as if he’s waging a battle of his own. His breaths become erratic, his movements now wild and untamed, and I love it.

  “Yes!” I scream. I can’t help it. I have no control over my mind, or my body. A tense, sparkly feeling begins to build. My climax is close. Glistening, just out of reach. “Elias!” I beg.

  Closer. Deeper. Harder. He rears back on his knees and pulls my left leg up, stretching it up the length of his body. He thrusts again and buries himself even deeper than before. My orgasm slams into me and I come crying out his name. The shudders rise and fall with each wave that overtakes me. An intense pleasure spills through my body.

  Elias thrusts hard again, and again, until with one final thrust he finds his own pleasure. My name leaves his lips as he collapses and rolls to the side, bringing me with him. I still feel the pulses of my orgasm as I press my cheek to his heaving chest. His arms wrap around me and for a time, we are both silent, complete. I’m not sure what would have happened next if my stomach hadn’t chosen that moment to rumble.

  I giggle and roll onto my back. “Oh, gosh. Did you hear that?”

  Elias chuckles. “It was kind of hard not to.”

  I punch him in the arm. “C’mon. I make a decent omelet.” I pull on a pair of yoga pants and a t-shirt, his eyes following me the entire time.

  Elias

  I watch spellbound while April dickers with a man who has a green glass platter that she wants to buy, wondering how she’d talked me into coming to a flea market. I’d woken her up this morning with my tongue, then carried her into the shower, where I’d pressed her against the tile wall, wrapped her legs around my waist, and lost myself inside her. I feel my cock stir just remembering how tight she felt around me.

  I grin, listening to her explain in the sweetest southern way why the gentleman should be happy with reducing his price by half. I don’t doubt she’ll walk away with the green platter in hand, and at the price she first quoted to the seller. I’ve watched her do the same thing too many times already today. Frankly, I think she’s a flea market whisperer. And I’m right. She turns to me with the biggest smile decorating her beautiful face and winks. I take the platter from her to carry, along with her many other steals for the day. I’ve already made one trip back to the truck, and it appears that I need to make another one. My phone rings, and I ignore it. Kent again, but he can wait.

  “You are amazing.” Her blue eyes sparkle in the sunlight, and even in the jeans and t-shirt she pulled on that morning, she looks incredibly gorgeous.

  “See, I told you,” she beams. “They want you to dicker.”

  “If you say so. Personally, I’d have paid the five bucks and saved the fifteen minutes it took you to talk him down to two dollars and fifty cents.”

  She shrugs and grins, “But where’s the fun in that?”

  I can’t help it—she’s adorable, and I want her all over again. I don’t even care that she won’t leave before visiting the last booth, because you never know what treasure you’ll find. I’ve heard that a few dozen times or two today. Our hands connect naturally now. I like the constant connection, something I never would have thought I’d enjoy. I’ve never been a hand-holding type of guy.

  Today’s agenda is to find unique items for the wedding decorations. I’ve never been to a flea market like this one. Half of the sellers are inside large metal barns, much like a flea market mall. The other half are outside, spread out over at least five acres of dirt, gravel, and grass. Part of the area is neat rows of wooden tables where vendors place their goods. Then there’s a large area where people just pulled their cars, trucks, and vans into any formation they could, their wares spilling from the vehicles. I have been amazed at what I’ve seen. Fruits, vegetables, old furniture, shoes, rugs, and things I can’t begin to identify. The best part of the day has been seeing how excited April gets when she discovers a find. She gets this little twinkle in her eyes that she tries to hide when she’s locked onto something she must have. She’s adorable.

  “Why don’t you take that to the truck and meet me by the food area?” April says, giving me a somewhat guilty smile.

  “That sounds like a great idea. I am hungry.” Her head pops up, and I know she’s remembering our last conversation about being hungry and how I satisfied my hunger…for her. My eyes stare into hers, and I want her again.

  “Well,” she says tensely, clearing her throat. “That can definitely be arranged a bit later.”

  I grin and touch my cheek to hers, bussing my lips just beneath her earlobe. She shivers and pulls back. Yeah. I play dirty. I learned that particular spot last night.

  After depositing another load in the back of her truck, I weave my way to the area set as
ide for food trucks. Even if I couldn’t see the flag flying high above the area with the picture of a burger, fries, and soda, I could still find it by smell alone. I’m already not looking forward to going back home to Cali and meeting with my trainer the show insists I work with. He’s going to make me hurt. Bad. My stomach sinks. I’m not sure which thought bothers me more, working with my trainer or leaving Treemont. I have a feeling they are both going to hurt.

  I see April first, and then the man I met on the street. Brent? Biff? Some ridiculous name that starts with a B. I know they are more than friends. I can tell it in the way he looks at her. Maybe not currently, but Biff wants her. Not gonna happen, sucker. She’s mine.

  My hands clench when Biff leans in and whispers something in April’s ear. She smiles up at him and puts her hand on his arm in a much too familiar way. I don’t like it. I speed up and catch the end of their conversation.

  “I’ll have to let you know,” April says, then glances my way. Our eyes connect. Connect. Not just meet. After what we’ve shared, there’s just something there. I can feel it, and I hope Biff caught it.

  “What was that?” I ask, trying to appear casual as I drape my arm over her shoulders.

  Biff gives me one of those dismissive looks. “I asked April about going with me to the Green Gala. It’s next month. You’ll be gone by then, won’t you?” His brow rises as he smirks.

  His snide little grin burns. Fucker. “What’s the Green Gala?” I ignore Bill and turn to April, lowering my arm around her waist and pulling her into my side. She comes willingly and even wraps one arm around me. I’m somewhat appeased.