The Bastard Billionaire

by Jessica Lemmon

  And it wasn’t even his.

  * * *

  In the bathroom across the hall, Isa dressed—sans her panties since Eli had shredded them. She grinned at her reflection as she finished buttoning her dress. She knotted the fabric tie at her waist and fluffed her hair, admiring the hue of pink at the apples of her cheeks.

  She looked damn satisfied. Felt it, too.

  It’d been a long time since she’d looked at her reflection and saw anything but the hardworking, harried owner of Sable Concierge.

  Sable.

  She loved when Eli called her that. Sable was the name she’d chosen not only to set herself aside from her parents, but also to establish a new identity she could rely on. One that was separate from her parents, from Josh, from the financial industry.

  Hearing that name tumble off Eli’s tongue, especially when doing what they were doing, made her feel sexy and sinful, in charge and take charge.

  And the sex just now? What carnal, hidden cave had that crawled from? She’d never been so bold. Had never taken a man on a chair or stripped and touched herself in front of him—and never, ever would she have imagined doing it for a client.

  She put her fingertips to her mouth to hide another smile that faded and faded fast. Eli wasn’t just a client. He was her friend. Now her lover.

  She had a lover for the first time in three years who wasn’t tied to her by a promise. Who she wasn’t tied to her by familial obligation. It was…thrilling.

  She stepped out of the bathroom and crossed to Eli’s office. He stood at his desk, fully dressed, both shoes on. His hair was disheveled from her running her hands over it while they made love. The sight of him standing there sure and strong made her heart skip a few necessary beats.

  “So.” Granted, not the most inventive of conversation starters but she had to say something.

  “So.” He slipped those capable hands into his pockets and her gaze trickled down his body, remembering the fullness of him inside her, the pleasure that singed her veins when he had his hands on her. She shuddered and didn’t even mean to.

  He walked toward her and she met him in the center of the room. They didn’t touch. Finally, he came to her, so close she had to tip her head to take in his height. He slanted his mouth over hers, rewarding her with the softest touch of his lips before pulling away too soon.

  She expelled a sigh, her heart thundering as her pulse chased to her belly before settling between her thighs.

  “Same time tomorrow?” she asked, her voice low and husky.

  He grinned and she nearly had to grab on to him to stay standing. Eli’s smile lit his blue eyes like the sun-dappled surface of the ocean. It lifted his cheeks and parted the longer scruff she found so sexy she couldn’t think straight.

  “We have a bit of an ethics problem, don’t you think?” He gave her a teasing wink and she felt the firm press of his palm against her back.

  “Next time fire me first.”

  His smile endured and beckoned another of hers. “Deal.”

  Chapter 10

  Isa arrived at work the next morning, her tote on her shoulder, unsure what to expect.

  After the sex and shared admiration for one another in Eli’s office, she’d mentioned the construction schedule. Eli had followed her to her desk and they’d sat and reviewed it together. An hour later, she had a better grasp of the construction business as a whole. Eli had stuck a few Post-it notes onto the makeshift calendar, and voila.

  Le schedule.

  She’d teasingly asked if he’d like her to contact Zach and he’d said no without hesitation. “I’ll do it.” Then he kissed her and told her to pack up.

  No wonder she didn’t know what to expect today. Work? Kisses? Work and kisses?

  She voted for option C.

  The elevator came to a stop, but as she reached for the handle, the door slid aside for her. She was surrounded by the piney scent of Eli, who hooked a hand around her waist, pulled her close, and kissed her gruffly. Her hand went to his chest to steady herself as she rocked on her heels.

  He pulled his lips from hers and swept a heated gaze down her body to the low-cut blouse, tight skirt, and stilettos.

  “You look like you today,” he said, his voice holding a hint of humor. “Morning.”

  Humor. In Eli Crane’s voice. Who’d have thunk?

  She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to the sexy twist of his half-smile or the way it moved the hairs on his face into a path she wanted to follow. A path she could skip down in search of hard, wet kisses and dirty promises.

  “I wasn’t sure what I’d walk into today,” she told him, breathless. “Your lips, as it turns out.”

  Another kiss had her eyes sliding shut, her fist clutching his shirt. When they parted, he took her tote from her hand and carried it to the table for her. It was such an oddly gentlemanly thing to do she stood stock-still for a moment, watching him move across the room before she followed.

  In her defense, it was hard to look away from the back muscles shifting beneath a long-sleeved black cotton shirt or his firm ass in a pair of worn denim…

  Hot.

  His gait, she noticed as she walked behind him, was less even than usual.

  “Are you having any pain today?” she asked as he set her bag down.

  “Some. Nothing I can’t handle.” His jaw went tight.

  So…probably the wrong thing to ask. Before she could change the subject, he turned and said, “But if you want to put your hands on me, feel free.”

  “Same to you.” She accepted his offer, sweeping her hands onto his shoulders as he once again grasped her waist. His blue eyes warmed and Isa felt as if she had stumbled into an alternate realm. One where she was allowed to touch him.

  “What’s on the docket for you today?” he asked.

  “I work for you, Eli. Shouldn’t you be telling me?”

  “You work for Reese, Sable. Do I really need to remind you?” Humor twinkled in his eyes before he gave her a quick smooch and released her.

  “I have a few papers for you to review and sign off on. Plus there’s a board meeting later this month and Reese has asked that you attend.”

  Eli let out a long, unhappy sigh and she regretted the change in the atmosphere.

  “I think you should go to the meeting,” she said.

  “Oh, do you?” he asked, not really asking.

  “I do.” She crossed her arms defiantly, standing her ground. She sensed that Eli wanted to work for his family but he was worried he might be the monkey wrench in the entire operation. Which was ridiculous. He was no more a bad omen than a black cat or a broken mirror.

  His gaze wandered to her cleavage, stayed there for a beat.

  “Up here, Marine,” she said.

  He met her eyes, his demeanor already lighter. “We’ll see.”

  Which was not a no. Progress.

  “What are you up to today?” she asked as he started for his office.

  “I have work to do on Refurbs, but I’ll be done by this afternoon. Maybe”—he pushed his hands into his front pockets and shrugged—“you and I can reconvene then.”

  Chills chased down her legs, but she replied with a cool, “We’ll see.”

  He sent one last glance over her before turning and walking to his office—though if she wasn’t mistaken, that walk was more of a strut.

  Isa blew out a breath, her shoulders slumping from the weight of…whatever this was. Lord. She was so ill equipped for this kind of affair. If that’s what it was. She had no idea if they’d last a minute or a month. But one thing was certain.

  Being with Eli was thrilling. The not knowing. The edge they danced along with each other. The bite of their retorts mixed with flirtatious smiles and veiled promises.

  After a lifetime of her parents trying to line up her future for her, after pushing and fighting to build Sable Concierge into a known name, Isa was tired of toeing the line. She was ready to step off the map—to have a little unchartered fun.
r />   That’s what this had to be with Eli.

  Anything more would mean she was overly involved with a billionaire businessman. She’d already attempted a relationship with a man in a suit chasing power. Not that Eli was in a suit. And not that he had to chase power…It found him and he had the ability to wield it effortlessly.

  She unpacked her bag, disliking how she couldn’t categorize Eli into the no-go zone. Soon, that dislike faded and her mind was turning over something other than her to-do list or her agenda. Her mind was on the slowly ticking clock…and how long she’d have to wait to see if he’d be up for some of that messy fun again today.

  * * *

  That woman.

  Eli pulled his hands down his face and shook his head to dislodge the fuzz in his brain. Isa had lined his head with cotton batting. He sat at his desk, shifting in the seat as flashes of yesterday afternoon crashed into him. When his immediate vision had been filled with two perfect breasts, a slim stomach, and enough dark hair to blot out the sun.

  This morning he’d woken feeling so much like his old self, he was surprised to find he hadn’t traveled back in time. The doctor had said there could be a subtle or rapid shift into acceptance. Every person was different.

  Eli hadn’t believed it. The doctor may know what he was doing because he’d read a lot of books and had worked with amputees, but he also had four working limbs, so how could he really know?

  This morning Eli considered maybe that doctor was right.

  He’d climbed out of bed and into the shower and—boom—realization hit him like a Mack Truck. It wasn’t like he was gone and now he was back, more like he’d crawled out of a dark hole into the sunlight. He didn’t have to try to fake the confidence straightening his back and squaring his shoulders; it was just…there.

  Because of sex.

  Accompanying his getting dressed were thoughts of Isa and the way she’d tangled her fingers into his hair. The sounds she’d made when he thrust inside her again and again. And now he could add the pleased smile he’d kissed onto her face when she’d arrived to his stock of memories.

  In an odd way, making her smile was equal to the feeling he’d had after they’d had sex.

  Like he’d fucking won.

  “Damn,” he muttered. What the hell was he supposed to do with that?

  He pushed his deep thoughts aside and focused on answering his e-mails, which was horrific. He hated e-mail. Hated communicating via anything other than in person, which he didn’t love that much either. Now that he’d started the business of being in business, he found working from home had its drawbacks. Or hell, maybe no one in an office bothered to walk in and talk to you there either.

  He was arriving at an uncomfortable realization. He didn’t want to run Refurbs for Vets. At all. Starting the charity had been rewarding. Creating it from nothing and moving Zach and his team into place, invigorating. But the day-to-day grind? The e-mails and phone calls and—God help him—text messages? No. He didn’t like it. Not even a little.

  So hand it off to Isa.

  He chewed on that thought for a moment, but only for a moment. Isa was running a business of her own—one he was technically keeping her from running. She’d go back to running Sable Concierge soon enough. He didn’t trust anyone else to have their hands in Refurbs. It was his house of cards and he was doing his damnedest not to let it topple.

  Plus, he hated to ask for help.

  Cue the leg. When he’d returned to Chicago, he had no choice but to accept help from everyone—family and strangers. It was humiliating and frustrating and damn sad to have to rely on someone after years of relying on himself.

  Which reminded him of Crystal. Because how many times had she asked that he trust her? With his hopes and his dreams? With his unresolved feelings of loss about his mother? He didn’t share those things—not ever.

  Yet he had with Isa.

  He’d sat at dinner in Benicia’s and spilled his guts about his mom. He’d told her about Christopher and Benji when she’d asked.

  And now that he’d shared the details of his past, he felt…uncomfortable?

  Vulnerable.

  Not a good feeling. As a soldier, he was trained to protect his men from vulnerabilities. Hell, to seek out vulnerabilities in the enemy. While he was aware he was no longer at war, it didn’t change the trigger twitching in his chest telling him the more access Isa had to his heart, the more in danger he was.

  No.

  Fuck a bunch of that.

  Isa was here for the same reason he was—they shared work hours, sure, but they also shared amazing, consensual, fantastic sex. Sex that made them both feel great and look better. Sex without future commitments or worrying about a picket fence, two kids, and a golden retriever.

  His biggest worry with Isa was that he might fail her in bed—that once she learned there was some maneuvering he’d have to try for leverage reasons, she, too, might decide he wasn’t what she’d signed up for. That niggle of doubt squirmed in his stomach and he felt his face pinch into a scowl.

  “Or maybe you shouldn’t fucking question it,” he mumbled as he punched the SEND button on the e-mail he’d finished crafting.

  “Hmm?” came a soft hum from the threshold of his office.

  “Sable.” He hadn’t heard her walk in here in those tall, black, shiny shoes. A vision of her on top of him in bed, his hands wrapped around the spikes on those heels as he lifted his hips to meet hers throttled him. That vision was a hell of a lot better than the worry it replaced.

  “Thought you might need a snack.” She carried an apple.

  “Is it lunchtime?”

  “It’s two o’clock.”

  “Oh.” His stomach gave a loud rumble. Evidently, being reminded of lunch was all it took to make him hungry.

  “I debated bringing this.” She put the apple on his desk, a knife alongside it. “I really like this blouse.”

  He grinned. He liked this side of her—frank and cute. Before, it was irritating. Now he found it refreshing. And sexy as hell.

  “I owe you a shirt and a thong.” He spun and laced his hands together, elbows resting on the arms of his chair.

  “I’m not worried since my underwear is safely ensconced in my lingerie drawer.” She leaned over his chair, her spicy scent surrounding him. “I’m not wearing any.”

  Oh yeah. It was fucking on.

  He stood so quickly, she lost her balance. He wrapped an arm around her to keep her from toppling. “You think we’re doing this in here again, you’re wrong.”

  “You didn’t like office-chair sex?” Her hand wandered to the neck of his shirt, where her fingers played along the seam.

  “I liked it very much, but I believe you came in here to remind me of lunch.” Her hands flinched as her hold tightened on him, so he laid it on even thicker. “I’m going to lay you down and have a taste of what you’re not covering with underwear.”

  Her eyes bloomed, dark sienna flecked with bits of gold.

  “Like that, do you?”

  “I…” She shrugged, an awkward lift of one delicate shoulder.

  “What’s the matter, Sable?” He leaned in so his lips brushed hers. “Pussy got your tongue?”

  * * *

  “Shimmy into the bedroom.”

  His gruff voice sparkled over her like carbonated water. She obeyed, too intrigued not to. He walked behind her at an even clip while she pulled her hair over one shoulder and twisted, a nervous habit when she didn’t know what to do with her hands. Though, she knew what she wanted to do with her hands, didn’t she? Put them all over his body. Run them through his hair. Hold on to his—

  “Stop.”

  She halted at the doorway of his bedroom and he slipped past her, brushing her waist with one hand. His bed was unmade, a pair of discarded jeans and a few T-shirts on the floor. A massive window stood over the bed, slatted blinds open to let in the sun. His dresser was on the far side of the room, along with a chair, and two different prosthetics re
sted against the wall next to the closet. One was shaped like a large C, no foot at the bottom. They were for running, if memory served.

  “Messy for a military man,” she said, sweeping her eyes back to the bed.

  “I’m not on duty.” He grabbed the corner of his gray comforter and tossed it open to reveal gray rumpled sheets. “They’re clean. I don’t like making the bed. More comfortable to slide into it messy.”

  There was a euphemism there she didn’t take the time to turn over.

  He snagged her hand and pulled her to him. “You ready?”

  “Yes.” Her heart thundered in anticipation of what he’d promised. Him between her legs, turning her on. He ran his hand down her blouse, over her breast, and to her skirt, where he slipped his fingers under the material. Once he reached the bare skin of her thighs, he kept going, his hand cupping her sex.

  “Completely bare,” he said reverently, sliding a finger along her damp folds. “And ready for me.”

  She opened her mouth and a high-pitched whimper came out. His touch felt that good.

  “That’s going to be my tongue next.” Another stroke and she grasped his shoulder for support. If he kept this up, he’d drop her where she stood. Her knees actually wobbled. “Do you like it fast or slow?”

  It wasn’t a rhetorical question, she guessed, given the way he watched and waited for an answer.

  “I…I’m not sure.”

  He tilted his head, his eyes narrowing. He stroked her again—one long, wet glide. “But you’ve had experience with this.”

  “Not a lot.” She let loose a nervous smile. Josh had always been in too much of a hurry. And frankly, he wasn’t very good at it. “I mean, yeah…with…myself.”

  Did she seriously admit to Eli Crane that she masturbated? Her eyes widened in alarm, but his smile turned sinister.

  “In that case, you know exactly what you like, don’t you?”

  She swallowed around the lump hardening in her throat, grateful when he kissed her so she didn’t have to answer. He slipped his fingers away, unzipping her skirt and giving it a shove. It hit the floor and she kicked off her shoes.

  “On the bed, Sable.”