Trusting the Billionaire (Weston Brothers Book 2)

by C. C. Snow

  Me: I know. Business administration. Smart girl.

  Gwen: I told Dad I want to work at the company after I finish my degree.

  My throat swelled at the mention of our father and I was glad she couldn’t see my expression.

  Me: I’m sure you’ll make CEO in no time.

  Gwen: I don’t know about that, but I’d like to help turn the company around. Lord knows Meredith and Jemma just want to spend money, so I guess that leaves me to earn it.

  A sad smile formed on my lips. Gwen was the least resentful person I knew. Due to the age gap, the older sisters had always treated Gwen like an unwanted pest. Often I’d see her playing by herself, gazing enviously as her sisters giggled at some shared secret. Personally, I thought it was a blessing they excluded her because Meredith and Jemma were shallow and petty. Soon after they graduated college, they had married men approved by Evelyn. Now they were living the Real Housewives lifestyle. But my youngest half-sister was nothing like them; she had ambition and drive.

  Me: You’ll kick ass. I just know it. I’m so proud of you.

  Gwen: I miss you. I miss someone telling me I can kick ass. I hate you for not talking to me for two years.

  I felt a tear stream down my cheek and wiped it away with the bottom of my sleeve. Then my other eye started leaking. I was such a bitch.

  Gwen: Elle, are you still there? I’m sorry for saying I hate you! I didn’t mean it.

  Me: I’m here. And you can hate me. I did a shitty thing. I’m very sorry, Gwen.

  Gwen: I hope you will tell me why you left someday.

  Me: Maybe someday.

  My phone chirped and I glanced at Troy’s text. He was picking Ethan and me up in an hour for a show. Then afterwards…

  My lips curved in anticipation of spending the weekend with him. God, I was getting as sappy and pathetic as Ethan had accused me of when he caught me daydreaming over my cereal.

  Me: Listen, I have to go now.

  Gwen: Promise me you’ll keep in touch.

  Me: I promise.

  Gwen: Ok. Hugs.

  Me: Hugs. Gwen, do me a favor and don’t mention to anyone that we are in touch.

  None of them would deign to ask about me, but I couldn’t bear the thought of them discussing me with disdain and pity. Even across a distance of 700 miles, I’d still feel the ghostly touch of their contempt.

  Gwen: Ok. I’m still mad at you.

  Me: I know.

  I signed off and sat back, slouching on my bed as if I had gone through a torture session. My skin was dotted with cold sweat and my pulse was abnormally fast. I stared outside our grimy window at the gray, cloudy sky, feeling something shift in my chest, and blew out all the air in my lungs.

  Reflexively, I reached for my backpack and unzipped it.

  One button eye stared back at me and I smiled wryly. “Hello, Miss Buttons.” If it had been ugly fourteen years ago, it was downright ghastly now. I had resewn the button eye so that it was no longer in danger of falling off, but she had lost her mouth altogether when the thread unraveled. Her yarn hair had faded from beige to some sort of sickly white and her stuffing was clumpy and uneven, giving her unsightly cellulite on her legs.

  Years ago, I had tried to return the doll to Gwen, but she had refused to take Miss Buttons back. At twelve, I thought I was too old for dolls, but this ugly, ragged, perfect creature was so much more than a doll. She had been a constant reminder to me that there was at least one person who cared about me.

  Smiling nostalgically, I reached into the backpack to take her out when my fingers encountered the ridged surface of my camera lens. I curled my fingers around the hard plastic and pulled it out. Turning it on, I scrolled through my shots and stopped at a picture of Charlie, his toothy smile stretching his cheeks as he talked about how he bumbled through boot camp.

  I studied his face for several minutes and then stood up.

  “Fuck it,” I said, feeling new purpose course through my veins. In long strides, I walked to my closet and reached into the pocket of my teal dress. Pulling out the small card, I started dialing the number before doubts could sink in. It went to voicemail.

  “Hi, Mr. Achterberg…I mean Jan. This is Elle Lazzaro. We met a few weeks ago at the gallery opening for Jason Westerberg. You offered to critique my work and I’d love to have your feedback.”

  I left my number and hung up. Then I threw my fist in the air and grinned, feeling proud of myself for making the call. The professional photographer might tell me my work sucked, but I wasn’t looking for unwarranted praise; I was looking for advice to make me better.

  Jubilation pumped through me. For the first time I felt like I wasn’t staggering drunkenly in the dark; there was the barest sliver of light illuminating a path in front of me.

  I took Ms. Buttons out of my backpack and touched her hair. “Thank you,” I whispered and with a pang, I placed her on the shelf in my closet. She didn’t need to go everywhere with me anymore. I swore her one eye shimmered for a second as I closed the closet door.

  Glancing at the clock, I quickly dressed and walked out of my bedroom. “Ethan, you ready? Troy should be here soon,” I called out, fiddling with the belt on my sweater dress.

  My two men were going to meet for the first time tonight and my nerves were on edge. What if they hated each other? Okay, that was an unlikely scenario, but I didn’t want them to merely tolerate each other. Ethan’s friendship meant a lot to me and I was heading into deep, uncharted territory with Troy.

  Tonight we were all going to Louis C.K.’s stand-up comedy show. When he was getting tickets, Troy had asked if Ethan wanted to join us. I had stepped boldly up to him and kissed the living daylights out of him, thoroughly enjoying his startled surprise.

  When I pulled back, he had a bemused smile on his face. “Wow, what was that for?”

  “For including Ethan,” I said, pressing another kiss on his chin. How did I get so lucky to find a man who was so considerate of my needs?

  “I know how important he is to you,” he said softly, folding me into his arms.

  That deserved another kiss and then another. We never made it out of his apartment that night for our dinner reservation, but neither of us cared.

  “Elle,” Ethan said in exasperation, breaking into my thoughts.

  “Oh,” I said, blinking and refocusing on the present.

  Cracking up, my best friend pointed to my face and said, “You’re thinking about sex again, aren’t you?”

  Blushing, I whacked him on the arm. “Was not.” Was too. Troy was turning me into a sex fiend. The passion seemed to burn brighter every time we came together and there were nights when I thought I was tapped out, but one look from him would ignite the fire in my belly again.

  Just then the buzzer sounded, saving me from more of Ethan’s teasing.

  But as soon as we stepped out of the apartment, the freak shook Troy’s hand and announced in a voice loud enough to be heard in the next zip code, “I have to tell you I’ve been dying to meet the man capable of making Elle daydream about sex. I just caught her thinking about doing the dirty deed with you. Again.”

  My jaw dropped and Troy threw back his leonine head and laughed. He hauled me into his arms and gave me a hard kiss, his lips still quivering with amusement.

  He broke away, winked at me, and said to Ethan, “That’s good because I think about doing the dirty deed with her every few seconds. It makes it hard to get through the day.”

  Ethan seemed to think that was the wittiest thing he had ever heard and I rolled my eyes, prepared for a long night of bad puns and even worse jokes.

  As we turned around to walk to the car, Ethan grinned at me and gave me two thumbs up.

  Relief brought a smile to my face. It looked like my fears were baseless.

  ***

  A kiss on the curve of my shoulder made my eyes fly open and I tensed.

  “Morning, baby.”

  At the sound of his husky voice, my muscles instinctively rel
axed, softening against the hard body behind me.

  “Morning.” I twisted my head to look at Troy and my insides went mushy at the sight of his rumpled hair and hooded eyes. This man looked gorgeous twenty-four seven. It was supremely unfair to the female population.

  He pressed his mouth against the side of my neck and placed a large hand over my breast. My nipple immediately pebbled into his palm and we both moaned.

  “You’re always so responsive to me, baby. It makes me so goddamn hard,” he crooned and rolled his hips to let me feel his morning erection.

  “You’re always hard.” To my ears, it didn’t sound anything like a complaint.

  He stifled a chuckle against my skin, his breath warm and moist. “You like me hard.” He leaned closer and whispered, “You like it when my hard cock slides inside your hot pussy. You like it when I fill you to the brim and fuck you so hard you almost black out.”

  Holy. Shit.

  My mind, still foggy with sleep, grew fuzzier with every filthy word out of his mouth. My breaths came in small bursts as he pinched my nipple between his fingers and tugged. I arched my backside into his cock and moaned as I felt my channel flood with wetness. I lifted my top leg and laid it over his, enjoying the rough texture of his body hair on my inner thighs.

  He flexed his hips and sawed his shaft between my thighs, his flesh dragging against my slick folds.

  “Oh God,” I panted and reached behind me to grasp his hard buttock.

  Troy let out a low grunt and angled his pelvis, sending the tip of his cock into my opening. My muscles contracted around his crest, craving the fullness only he could deliver, and he groaned. With a low curse, he abruptly pulled out.

  My short fingernails dug into his ass in protest.

  “Condom,” he muttered and started to pull away from me.

  I hooked my leg over his calf. “You don’t need it.” The words were out before I could process the ramifications through my brain. When what I said sunk in, I bit my lip. We already had a candid discussion about our health after our first night together and Troy had hinted he would like to forgo condoms, but I had shied away from the intimacy of it.

  He stilled and tilted my head toward him with his forefinger, his eyes piercing into me. He knew how significant this was for me. “Are you sure, baby?” he asked, his voice deeper than normal.

  I searched his eyes and inclined my head. “Yes.” I trusted him and I didn’t want to feel any barriers between us.

  Skin pulling taut with need, Troy lifted my leg and positioned his cock at my entrance. He held my gaze captive as he filled me slowly, his thickness pushing through my tight muscles until he was fully embedded. I saw his eyes flare with pleasure and it amplified my own. I involuntarily clenched around his pulsing shaft, dragging out tortured moans from both of us. It was probably all in my imagination, but he felt scorching hot without the layer of latex between us.

  “You feel incredible, baby.” He leaned down to kiss me and rocked languidly in me. One hand crept down my torso until he cupped my mound, his middle and fourth finger spread over clit. With small kneading motions, he started to drive me slowly insane.

  I didn’t have any leverage to control the pace and frustration built in me as he brought me to the brink time and time again, but never pushed me over.

  “Troy, faster,” I begged, trying to wiggle my hips.

  “I think not. I think I’ll keep fucking you like this all day. I want this to last a long time,” he said in a strained voice, his hips moving in a little circle that made my sex weep.

  Jesus. He felt incredible, but I wasn’t going to survive the teasing for much longer.

  I moaned in protest, “We can’t.” Something niggled at the back of my mind. “We have to go somewhere.” Although if someone put a gun to my head right now, I wouldn’t be able to tell them where we were supposed to go.

  “Nothing is as important as this.” He flicked my swollen clit and I let out a high-pitched squeal.

  My muscles pulsating with need, I knew I couldn’t take the sensual torment for much longer. I used the only weapon I had left to get him to give me what I wanted: my mouth. He wasn’t the only one who could talk dirty.

  “Baby…” I smiled when he jerked in surprise. It was the first time I had used an endearment and from the way he reacted, he appeared to like it. “I love how your cock feels in me.” I consciously tightened my lower body, using my inner muscles to massage his shaft. Thank you, Kegel exercises. His breathing hitched, silently encouraging me to continue. “It’s so sexy that you’re fucking me skin-to-skin.”

  He made a sound halfway between a groan and a shout and thrust harder into me. My limbs trembled as I felt that first starburst in my belly. That shining climax was just out of reach. I just needed to push him a little further.

  I brought my hands to my breasts and squeezed the soft flesh. My eyes closed. “Fuck me deeper, baby. You always make me come so hard.”

  “Jesus. You and your delicious, dirty mouth,” he muttered, his cock swelling inside me. “I could come from just hearing you talk to me.”

  My voice lowered. “It feels so good when you explode in me and now there’s nothing between us. I want to feel you come in me.”

  Before I had finished the last sentence, Troy roared and stiffened behind me. I felt the blast of his hot release deep inside me at the same time his fingers squeezed around my clit. I screamed his name as my orgasm crashed over me, hot and untamed. Every body trembled with pleasure until it was too much for me and my senses shut down completely, blackness stealing over me.

  I couldn’t have been out for more than a minute because our rattling breaths made my eyes flutter open.

  “Holy shit,” I whispered, my muscles still convulsing around him. I blinked to clear my vision.

  “Agreed,” Troy husked into my hair, one hand looped around my waist and the other stroking the curve of my hip. We lay on our sides for a few minutes until our hearts stopped thundering.

  “I don’t think I’ll ever move again,” he said drowsily.

  I laughed softly and covered his hand. “I think we need to eat at some point.” Suddenly remembering the agenda for the day, I started to pull away, but he firmed his grip around me.

  “Let’s stay in bed, baby.”

  Lazing around naked with this man all day? I was very tempted, but I forced myself to move away, disconnecting our bodies. He groaned in complaint and tried to reach for me again, but I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. Feeling a trail of wetness leak out of me, I pressed my thighs together and my whole body flushed with embarrassed pleasure.

  “We need to shower and get going,” I said over my shoulder as I made my way to the bathroom. “I have plans for us today.”

  “So did I,” he muttered, sounding like a petulant little boy who had been denied his favorite toy.

  I throttled back my laughter, not wanting to encourage him, and entered the bigger-than-my-apartment bathroom. Just as I raised my face into the stream of water, he joined me.

  An hour later, we finally made it out of the apartment to head to the El station.

  “Where are we going?” he questioned as I tugged him off the train at our stop.

  “You’ll see,” I said. It was the first time I had planned something for us and I couldn’t wait to see his reaction. Over the last month, Troy had thoughtfully catered our dates to what I liked—art shows, museums, more dive bars—and I wanted to do something special for him. He did drag me to a couple of snooty charity events that were less than enjoyable, but I knew he had to attend as a representative of his family foundation.

  As we neared the venue, he slowed his gait, glancing at me in surprise. When we reached the entrance and I handed over our tickets, he pulled me to a stop. “Baby, I thought you didn’t like bluegrass.” He pointed a finger to the name on the marquee.

  “I don’t hate it.” But I didn’t like it and it had surprised the hell out of me that he did. I would have pegged h
im as a fan of classical or rock music, but Troy Weston defied any stereotypes.

  I pulled him inside the big hall, craning my neck to look for an open table. On the stage, the sound crew was setting up while pre-recorded music pumped through the speakers. The concert wasn’t due to start for another hour, but many fans had arrived early to enjoy the food and drinks. There was a convivial air permeating the whole venue.

  “Let’s go. It won’t be fun for me if you don’t enjoy it,” he said, starting to turn toward the exit.

  I yanked on his coat lapel, bringing his eyes to me. I shook my head, my heart warming at his consideration. “No, let’s stay. I’ll enjoy it.”

  He stopped and drew me close, his hands at the small of my back. “Elle, you wince every time you hear the banjo.”

  Unbidden, one corner of my mouth hiked. “It’s the fiddle I don’t like, not the banjo,” I joked. “I know you want to stay. The Lonesome River Band is playing in the last hour,” I said, naming his favorite band. “Let’s go find good seats.”

  Gorgeous eyes softening, he leaned his forehead against mine and whispered, “Baby, I am damn lucky you’re my woman.”

  Warmth expanded from my chest, suffusing every cell in my body.

  He threaded his fingers into the hair at my nape and kissed me. The rest of the world faded into nothing as he took his sweet time exploring my mouth. When he eased away, his eyes glowed with banked fires. “Thank you, baby.”

  Mind still reeling from his kiss, it took a beat for his words to sink in. “For what?”

  “For putting up with a banjo-loving fool,” he said with a happy grin.

  I laughed.

  With his superior height, Troy easily found us a banquette to the side. Lunch consisted of southern-style barbeque and sweet iced tea. When the first band took the stage, I did wince a few times, but Troy’s enthusiasm was infectious. He slapped his thigh and stomped his feet to the beat. By the time his favorite band came on, I found my feet tapping to the rhythm as well.

  His eyes shining, he turned to me after the end of the first set and grinned. “Having a good time?”

  “Yes,” I said, enjoying the look of enjoyment on his face more than anything else.