Billionaire Neighbor

by Lulu Pratt

  “I know.” I whisper against his lips.

  “I don’t think you do.”

  I place a palm on his chest and curl my hips harder against him. He closes his eyes and rests his head against the headboard as I move. His fingers press into me territorially and that exact moment is when it hits me, hard.

  I want this man in my life forever. I don’t care how. I just want to look at him like this every day and lose myself in the waves of passion.

  “Eric.” I whisper his name because the pressure in my chest mounts. I can barely breathe through the growing buildup between my legs.

  Before, it always came quickly and burned through me. This orgasm comes in cresting waves, threatening to diffuse and send me into a million pieces.

  “Eric.”

  “I know.” He says quietly, a moan escaping him.

  “No, you don’t.”

  He cradles my head and pulls me to him without a break in the gyrating of his hips. We are forehead to forehead, breaths quickened, vision blurred. I can’t stop the moans from spilling over my lips because I can no longer control my body.

  The electric fingers of the mounting orgasm settle into my lungs and threaten to seize. Our eyes meet and I feel the emotions he can’t bring himself to voice. The longing that radiates throughout him.

  The love that flows between us, hot and unspoken.

  As soon as that word populates behind my eyes, that pesky little four-letter word, I finally succumb to release. I gasp out his name and tears spill down my cheeks. My entire body shatters and rearranges itself under his touch. I don’t know the sky from the ground and I’m flying through space and time.

  His grunts increase and he thrusts against me harder, working my hips against his cock in a frenzy. He bites down on my shoulder and gasps as his own orgasm rips through him. We cling to each other while our heart rates settle, panting and dizzy.

  “You’re going to be the end of me.” He murmurs.

  “No,” I cup his face in my hands and kiss him softly, “we are the new beginning.”

  “I don’t think you know what you’re asking.”

  “I think it’s time to stop pretending, Eric.”

  He doesn’t say anything, but I can see his thoughts warring against his heart. The struggle over what he wants. The struggle I know so well.

  “I know what I want.”

  “This is a chaotic time in your life.” He says it slowly and doesn’t look at me, which somehow makes it feel even worse.

  “The chaotic period has passed. This is the resolution. I’m not helpless, okay? This is not something I’m clinging to as a sick sort of rebound.”

  His face scrunches for a moment. “That’s not what I meant. I just don’t want to take advantage of you, Kate. I’ve done too much of that in my past. It’s not what I want for you.”

  “What do you want for me?” I ask softly.

  Again, the words stop up behind his lips. I can’t bring myself to say them either. I kiss him instead.

  We have time to figure it out.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  ERIC

  “Mr. Stevens?” Sophie’s face is taut when she steps into my office, which is never a good sign.

  “This can’t be good.” I close the file laid out before me and recline in my chair. “Is it Williams?”

  She shakes her head.

  “Vivica Gattis?” Another shake. Shit. I stack my files together and toss them into a desk drawer. “All right. Send the asshole in.”

  “Asshole? I knew we’d be friends.” David McArthur quips, letting himself in with a wink. “You’re my brand of man, Eric.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Years in a courtroom keep my jaw from clenching. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “Updates. I know you met with Kate’s lawyer recently.”

  “Correct. I told you no headway was made and we are going to court.”

  “That’s what I don’t like.” David clicks his tongue and shakes his head. “I don’t want this to go to court and create a bigger circus than it is already. I need you to get her to back down.”

  “Unfortunately, your whoring about Hollywood has given them an extra boost of fight. I warned you to keep it low-key when this whole thing started, David. There’s a reason why I tell you to do something. I’m the expert here, remember?”

  “It’s not whoring. I’m just enjoying myself. Though, this past weekend could probably cross the line.” David grins widely at me. “Tom Watts threw a killer party at his mansion. Girls everywhere. God bless the bikini, am I right?”

  “David.” I seethe quietly and struggle to keep my voice level. At the rate this guy is going, I’m going to be the laughing stock of the courthouse. No one in their right mind would continue to deal with this bullshit. “If you can’t stop your fucking antics, I’m going to have to drop your case.”

  “Excuse me?” The smile drops and something I’m sure he meant to be sinister surfaces. How adorable. I could beat the mouth of this guy in two seconds. “You can’t do that.”

  “The hell I can’t. You have repeatedly ignored every direct instruction on how to handle this case. Blatant disobedience every time. I know you don’t give a shit about your reputation, but I have a damn good one. I am not going to represent a sinking ship.”

  “This isn’t a goddamn sinking ship.” David jabs his finger against my desk. “I endured a hellish relationship with that woman for years. I’m entitled to have fun.”

  “You’re entitled to do whatever you want. Unless you want to win complete rights to your assets. If that’s the case, you keep your fucking pants on and don’t look at one more pair of tits for the next couple of weeks.”

  David stares at me for a minute. My fingers itch to throw a right hook and watch him sail across my office floor. He laughs and shakes his finger at me. I’m going to need intensive boxing therapy tonight so I don’t lose my mind.

  “I see what this is. A scare-him-straight technique. I got you, man. I know there’s no way you’d give up the money I’m paying you.”

  “Contrary to apparent belief, I don’t need your fucking money. I do, however, need my reputation. I’m not going to have you ruin me in your quest to ruin yourself.”

  “This is bullshit,” David spits. “I could just fire you, you know.”

  “By all means.” I raise my hands in the air. “I’ll have Sophie send you a final bill.”

  “If you think I’d pay—”

  “You signed a contract, David.” I pull his file out of the case behind me and flip to our initial agreement he signed weeks ago. “It says here either party can terminate at any time, but a final bill will be sent regardless, and you are obligated to pay. You happily signed. Need to read it again?”

  “No. I remember.” David’s mouth is thin but he shakes his head as if it’s water under the bridge. “I know lawyers have very stressful jobs. I’m sure you just need a vacation. Yeah, I can keep my dick to myself for a few more weeks if it means we can get this done quick.”

  “Good.”

  Inside, I am raging. I know I should just cut him loose, but that means delaying the trial and extending the headache for Kate. If I can do anything for her, it’s ensuring she’s not fucked in this process. If I develop six ulcers, but she gets what’s fair, then I’ll call it worth it.

  “She’s out fucking someone else, you know. She’s quiet about it, but I know her.” David says.

  “You also said she cheated on your during your marriage but have been unable to prove it.” My heartbeat thuds against my eardrums. “Do you have proof now?”

  “Nah.” He shrugs. “She’s probably fucking the whole of the Angels right now, know what I mean? She was always slutty. That whole good-girl act was a publicity stunt. We need to use that in court, show it’s just an act.”

  “I’d love to.” I grit my teeth. “If you can provide me proof.”

  “I should have hired that private investigator months ago.” He chews his lip. “I tri
ed to get her to take me back. Bypass this whole mess, you know. Let her keep living in the house but open up the marriage. I’d still keep my money and the women, she could still keep her home. That’s fucking fair, right?”

  My blood pressure skyrockets. I try to remind myself this guy is a piece of trash. That Kate is not technically mine to defend. That we are, indeed, having sex while she is divorcing this human dumpster. None of it matters.

  “She refused. Can you believe that? Her little friend threatened to call the cops on me. They said I threatened them or some shit. Complete fabrication. Things are getting desperate over there in Camp Kate.”

  “David. Did you threaten someone?”

  “God no. I’m not an idiot.”

  He definitely threatened someone. Great. I just need to drop David and move the hell on with my life. Maybe I can refer him to someone who I trust, someone who won’t fuck over the woman I love to fuck.

  “Anyway. She’s just mad because I fucked her good and then left again.”

  Everything slides to a manic halt. A ringing floods my ears.

  “You slept with her? Recently?”

  “Shit yeah, man. She’s a crazy bitch, but that pussy is sweet. I needed another taste, know what I mean? She loved it, too. Came like three times, cried about how much she still loves me and how she hates how our relationship ended. I told her I needed time to think about it.”

  “I thought you offered an open relationship?”

  “That was after. She loves the McArthur dick, man. And while it’s great pussy, really, I can’t be held down. There’s so much of me to go around. I know you know what’s up.” He laughs and slaps my desk again. “But seriously, man. She got clingy as hell after we fucked. She was really offended by the idea of sharing me. That must be why they rejected our offer. She’s trying to get me to change my mind.”

  “How long ago was this? That you two slept together?” I ask. There’s no way this can be legitimate.

  “A few weeks ago. Two, maybe? I came over with roses and told her I missed her. Stripped down naked and jumped me like the hungry bitches at the club. I’ve got pictures somewhere. Thought it would help the case. Guess not.”

  “Yeah.” Something inside me collapses. Something sharp. “I guess not.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  KATE

  I’ve lost my corkscrew and it’s terribly inconvenient. I could have sworn it was on the counter, but that was a whole bottle of wine ago and plenty has happened since then. It could be anywhere. Back in the drawer, in the trash, the sink.

  Not actually in any of those places, but it could have been before I looked.

  “Fuck.”

  I stare at the bottle and hate it for the injustice it’s serving me. All I want to do is get obliteratingly drunk and forget the world around me. Instead, I’m left with a strong buzz and no way to continue my own destruction.

  “It’s a twist top, Kate.”

  I scream and grab a knife from the block on the counter. Hannah holds up her hands and smiles, apologizing.

  “I knocked but you didn’t answer. I wanted to drop off some boxes for the gala. You asked me to bring them by earlier.”

  “Shit.” I drop the knife in the sink and grasp my chest to still my heart. “I thought you were David.”

  “You need a knife for David?” Hannah’s brow knits together. “I knew it was bad, but holy shit, Kate. Do I need to arrange security for your apartment?”

  “I should have thought of that weeks ago.” How did I not think of that? Oh, right, I was too busy being consumed by Eric Stevens. The man I fell in love with and bared my soul to, only to be dropped and ignored. “Maybe. Probably. What were you saying about my wine bottle when you nearly scared me to death?”

  “It’s a twist top.” Hannah takes it from me and opens it. “I guess you’ve had a bad day.”

  I snort so hard it spirals into a coughing fit. Bad day just scratches the surface. I thought I had bad days in the past. Today proved I had no idea what one really was until now.

  “I guess you saw the interview?”

  I nod and chug the glass Hannah hands me. I hold it back out for her to refill and go collapse on the couch.

  “He told them I was a cheat and a whore. He told them he was framed. He told them I slept with him recently as a ploy to get his money. His money! Can you believe that shit? It’s my money.” I throw a pillow across the room. “And let’s not forget the jerk who now isn’t returning my calls.”

  “You called David?”

  Oops. I sit there for a minute, trying to get my brain back on track with what’s going on. Perhaps this other glass of wine was a terrible idea. I can’t let anyone know about Eric because then everyone will believe the other bullshit David spewed.

  I can’t believe Eric let him do that. First, he ignores every call and text I’ve sent him for three days. Then, he sends David on a freaking trash network show to talk about how terrible I am? Did Wonderland ever turn dark and terrifying? Because that’s where I am right now.

  “Kate?” Hannah appears in front of me and hands me a new glass. It’s cold and not a wine glass. “I think you need to drink this.”

  “Unless it’s alcohol, I’m not interested.”

  “Do you want me to call Lily over here?” She presses the glass to my hand and sticks a straw in my mouth. I pull a sip from it despite wanting to resist it. “Or, I don’t know, someone else?”

  “I’m fine.” I say around the straw. “Really.”

  “I can stay, if you’d like some company. I know we never see each other outside of work, but I won’t mind.”

  “No, no. I’m okay. Just a long day. He sucks.”

  “I’m so sorry about David.”

  “Fuck David.”

  Fuck both of them, really. I don’t know what karmic deity I pissed off, but I guess it was all of them? Why else would my life spiral so wildly out of control? Every time I think I’ve found happiness, it zips away. There’s no winning for Kate. None allowed at all.

  “I’ll have Lily call and check on you in a bit, okay? You can decide then if she needs to come over. I don’t think you should be alone tonight.”

  “I’m always alone.” I mutter. “It’s nothing new.”

  Hannah floats near the door, clearly conflicted. It angers me because she has no business being conflicted. Her life is neatly paved out with no exit ramps in sight. She’s so young and perky and has a loving boyfriend who sends her flowers just because it’s Tuesday. She needs to cut out the conflicted shit.

  “Go.” I shoo her out. “Thanks for the concern, but I need to be alone right now.”

  “If you’re sure.” Hannah frowns. “I put the boxes on your desk.”

  “I’ll look at them tomorrow.”

  “Okay. I’ll go.” She hesitates at the door again. “Have a good night, Kate.”

  I wave over my shoulder and stare at the TV. I hear the door click behind me and I jump up to pull across the chain so no one else with a key can come in. I didn’t even remember giving Hannah a key, but everything is sort of fuzzy right now anyway.

  I turn on the TV and it cues up a freeze frame of the video I made of my night with Eric. My fist closes around the remote until it aches. What did I do to this man that made him ignore me after we shared such an intense afternoon together?

  I was so close to telling him I loved him. I know he thought about telling me the same. Now, nothing. He didn’t get to be scared. He didn’t get to hide. I couldn’t hide, why should he? Did he get bored of me? Did he decide sex with the same person got boring and he wanted to go back to fishing in the local pools again?

  Stupid men. They were all the same. I should have become a nun the last time I thought about it. I’m not religious but maybe I can tell them I’m curious. Or maybe I can lie. Enough time in this stupid town has made me pretty good at it.

  Across the apartment, my phone rings. I trip over the couch trying to get it and probably break my toe. I struggle b
ack to my feet and limp to the kitchen counter, but it switches to voicemail before I can grab it.

  It was Eric.

  I immediately hit the redial button, but get sent straight to voicemail. After three tries, I give up. He’ll see I called and call back, surely. I pace in the kitchen, waiting for his call again.

  The corkscrew sits on top of the coffee maker. How did it get there?

  The ringtone for a voicemail chimes and I fly to the app to listen. I want to just hear his voice again, more than anything. I want to hear him say he’s been busy and he’s sorry he hasn’t been in touch. I want to hear him say he needs me again.

  “It’s me. This is the last time I’ll call. It’s over, Kate. I’m your husband’s lawyer and I’m not going to get disbarred over this. Don’t bother calling me anymore.”

  The message ends and I stare at my phone. There is no way I heard what I think I did. It was the wine talking. I replay it three times. By then, tears stream down my face and I can’t breathe. A guttural scream erupts out of me and I throw my wine glass against the wall.

  It shatters into a hundred pieces. Just like me.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  ERIC

  “Another, Becky.” I drop the shot glass on the bar and nudge it forward. “Better make it two.”

  “And a water.” Paxton says.

  “Fuck off.”

  “Big water.”

  “I hate you. Why are we friends?”

  “We bonded over a joint hatred of Geoff.”

  “You both can go straight to hell.” Geoff says it like he’s waving off flies. Getting laid cleaned him up good. “And be nice to Becky tonight.”

  “I am being nice. I’m padding her tip as we speak.” I say. “Tell your girlfriend to make them extra strong.”

  “That’s a surefire bet to get diluted shots, big guy.” Becky slides two more shots of whiskey in front of me. “You should probably have some water.”

  “I liked you better when you wanted my dick.”