My Wicked Billionaire (The Billionaire Kings Book 6)

by Serenity Woods

She opens her mouth to answer, then pauses at the waitress comes out with our food. Clio waits until the waitress has gone and we’ve started digging into the wedges and battered prawns before she continues.

  “Nothing’s gone wrong. Everyone’s been great. They offered me a placement at the Ark without me even asking for it, and now I have my own room.”

  “But everyone’s just assuming you want to work there,” I say. “Nobody’s asked you what you want.”

  She spears a squid ring on her fork and sighs. “It sounds awfully ungrateful, and I hope you know I don’t mean it like that. I’m very grateful to Noah and Stefan for taking me on. Stefan, especially, has been amazing.”

  She speaks of him fondly, and I surprise myself by feeling a twinge of jealousy. “Are you interested in him?” I ask her.

  As she meets my gaze, her eyes sparkle with amusement. “Jealous, are we?” She laughs. “No. He’s far too bossy. He’s lovely, and he’s super helpful, but neither of us are interested in that way. Anyway, Jules has her eye on him, and even if I did like him, I’d never get in her way.”

  “Does she?” I remember back to the night the guys and I took Noah out to the bar for a drink. Someone mentioned there that Jules’s ex once hit her, and Stefan bristled and looked as if he was about to march around to the dude’s house and call him out for a duel. “I think he likes her too.”

  “Really? Jeez. Why doesn’t he ask her out? She doesn’t think he’s interested.”

  “I don’t know, I’ll have to have a word with him.”

  “You totally should,” she says. “She’s definitely up for it.”

  I laugh and finish off my beer. “Want another one?”

  “God, yes. Let me get them.”

  She’s up out of her seat before I can argue, and within a few minutes she returns with another beer for me and a second cider for herself.

  “This is such a lovely place,” she says, sitting back down and picking up her fork again. “And I bet it looks amazing in the daytime.”

  “Oh yeah. One of the prettiest parts of New Zealand.” I spear a piece of fish and eat it. “So if you weren’t going to work at the Ark, if you could work anywhere, what would you do?”

  She thinks about it while she dips a wedge into the sour cream and then the chili sauce. “I’d love to travel. I haven’t done much of that at all. Maybe work abroad, in Australia or even Europe.” She hesitates. “You promise you won’t tell Hal the next bit?”

  “Cross my heart.”

  “I would’ve loved to have worked in a zoo. I did a short placement there, and when he found out, he got quite cross with me. He doesn’t believe in them, you see. He’s all for keeping animals in their natural environments, which is a fair enough point, but providing they’re done well, zoos can protect endangered species, and they’re an educational resource—they give everyone a chance to see exotic animals in the flesh. I’d love to have gone to some of the zoos in the world that aren’t managed well and helped to reorganize them to take better care of their animals.”

  She lights up while she’s telling me this, obviously enthusiastic about the idea. Then the light dims. “But Hal would never approve of that.”

  “Do you need his approval?”

  She pokes at the fish on her plate. “No.”

  “So…”

  “It’s hard to explain. All the guys at the Ark are so confident and sure of themselves. They’re not afraid to say what they think. And it’s hard, sometimes, to stand up for yourself against them.”

  I give her a wry smile. “I wouldn’t have thought you’d have any trouble with that.”

  “I know. I come across as feisty and outspoken. And I do stand up for myself. But you’ve heard how they talk about me. I feel as if I’m constantly trying to win their approval, and somehow I never quite make it.”

  “Maybe it’s time you stopped and started following your own heart.”

  “Maybe. I just don’t think I can go up to Noah and Stefan and tell them I don’t want to work at the Ark. It would sound ungrateful and like I don’t care about the Ark, and that’s not true at all.”

  “I get that. But think about what happened with Albie. Remy told Noah that Albie wanted to work with kids, and Noah made it happen for him. If you were to discuss it with Noah, maybe he could come up with an idea to help you achieve your dreams, whatever they are.”

  She thinks about it while she eats. I watch her, thinking how she obviously hides behind her outspokenness, acting devil-may-care, when in fact she cares very much.

  “What did Theo think about it?” I ask.

  She dips a potato wedge in the chili sauce. “I didn’t discuss it with him.”

  “Why not?”

  “I knew what his answer would be. He’d say there was a stable, full-time job waiting for me, and I would be crazy to turn it down. I didn’t want to have to go through that argument.”

  “If he loved you, he would have supported you, surely?”

  “I think we both know it doesn’t work like that.”

  I nod slowly. I’m beginning to understand why she decided to make the break with him.

  “Why are relationships so hard?” she complains.

  “I don’t know,” I admit honestly. “I don’t think they have to be. I guess we just haven’t met the right person yet.”

  “All I want is someone who’ll love me and have sex with me on a regular basis,” she says, “but who’ll let me get on and do what I want with my own life.”

  “That sounds fair enough; that’s pretty much what I want, too.”

  Her gaze settles on me, and her eyes sparkle, telling me she’s about to change the topic.

  “So,” she says. “Anyway. Enough about me. Let’s talk about sex.”

  I chuckle and have a swig from my beer bottle. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “Why not?”

  “We’ve been through this.”

  “So let’s go through it again. I have a short memory.”

  I choose a battered prawn and dip it in the mayonnaise. “I’d feel bad about Leon.”

  “Seriously? That’s the best excuse you can come up with?”

  “He’s a good friend.”

  “Yeah…”

  “And as I said before, it’s not the done thing to bang your best mate’s sister.”

  “Part of your bro’ code,’” she says.

  “Kinda, yeah.”

  “Well screw that. Don’t I get a say in the matter?”

  I tip my head from side to side.

  “And anyway,” she continues, “why does he have to know?”

  I purse my lips. “It’s a good point.”

  “It’s a very good point. I certainly wouldn’t tell him. None of his fucking business.”

  “That’s true.”

  “So what are your other concerns?”

  “Clio…”

  “I’m genuinely interested.”

  “It would be awkward, wouldn’t it? Sleeping together and then carrying on as if nothing had happened?”

  She shrugs. “I don’t see why. It’s just sex.” Her eyes meet mine.

  It’s just sex. I get a frisson from the nape of my neck all the way down my spine. She really means it. She really wants to go to bed with me. I could put into practice all the things I’ve been fantasizing about.

  “I’m pretty good at it,” she says.

  I give a short laugh. “I have absolutely no doubt about that.”

  “Don’t you want me, Ryan? Don’t you think it would be fun to go to bed with me?”

  Desire surges through me. Fuck, yeah, I want to say. But I just reply, “Yes, and yes. But that’s not the point.”

  “What is the point?”

  “I can’t remember,” I tell her, somewhat helplessly.

  “You said it’s been a while for you,” she murmurs, leaning forward on the table. It’s impossible not to notice that when she does that, it pushes her breasts up. “It’s been a while for me, too.�
� Her gaze slips down me, slow and sensual, bringing goose bumps out all over me. “You have a great body,” she says.

  “Thank you.” I’m fighting to retain my self-control here. “You too.”

  “I’m sure you’ve had one-night stands in the past,” she says.

  I shrug. “Maybe, back in the day.”

  “So what’s the problem?”

  I can’t answer her, because she knows what the problem is, and she doesn’t care. Jesus. I’ve never had a woman come on to me so openly before. And the thing is, in many ways she’s right—this is nobody else’s business, and theoretically there’s no reason we can’t have a one-night stand. We’re consenting adults, and if we both accept it’s all about sex, then as she says, what’s the problem?

  She finishes off her cider. “Time for another drink.”

  I stand and take her bottle. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

  “Yep.”

  “Fair enough.”

  She grins. “Make it a gin and tonic.”

  “Okay.” I go into the bar, order her a G&T, and myself a whisky.

  I shouldn’t drink any more. I should explain clearly that this is a bad idea, walk her back to our hotel—our shared suite—push her firmly into the bedroom, and crash out on the sofa.

  Instead, I return to the table with our drinks. The waitress has collected our empty plates, and Clio is looking out across the lake into the darkness.

  “Thanks.” She takes her glass, we clink them together, and have a mouthful. The whisky sears down inside me, raising my thermostat by a few degrees. Like it needs raising any higher.

  “I’m glad I missed the plane now,” she says. “It wouldn’t have been half so much fun stuck on the flight with Stefan and the others.”

  “Me too.”

  “You’re sure?” she says.

  I hesitate. “Well, you’re not making it easy for me.”

  “I’m not sure you want me to.”

  I meet her eyes. She’s right. I’m torn in two. I want her, but I know I should keep my distance. Must, should, ought. Coulda, shoulda, woulda.

  The thing is, if we don’t tell anyone, does it matter what happens between us? I want her, she wants me. Does anything else matter?

  Of course it does. It matters a lot, to me anyway. I wish I was the sort of guy who had no moral compass, but I do, and it’s pointing in the opposite direction to Clio.

  Her gaze caresses my face, her eyes sultry. “Are there things you’ve fantasized about doing with a woman that you’ve never gotten around to?”

  I have another mouthful of whisky and don’t answer. I’m not going down that road.

  “Maybe we could try them,” she says.

  Jesus. I look away, out to the lake. It’s taking all my self-control not to just throw her onto the table and do her right there.

  “I’m very bendy,” she says.

  That makes me laugh, and she laughs too. “Will you stop?” I scold her.

  “No. I’m enjoying myself.”

  “You’re enjoying torturing me?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “Christ, Clio…” I struggle to think of a topic to distract her. “Why is your name spelled with an ‘i’ and not an ‘e’?”

  “Because Clio is the Greek muse of history. You know Leon’s full name is Leonardo, don’t you? Dad likes his interesting names. Anyway, don’t change the subject. I like talking about sex. What’s your favorite position?”

  “Girl on top. Now, tell me about where you’d like to travel.”

  She lifts her eyebrows. “Girl on top?”

  “Europe? North America? Africa?”

  “Not doggy style?”

  “Asia? China or Japan?”

  “I like it from behind,” she says. “All fours or lying down, I’m not fussed.”

  “How about Russia?”

  “Mind you, I’d be happy with plain old missionary at the moment.”

  I try not to laugh. “Scandinavia?”

  “Using a vibrator isn’t quite the same. I mean, it’s not all about orgasms, is it?”

  The thought of her pleasuring herself in the dark makes me feel a little faint. “Germany?”

  “Even one of those special vibrators that focus on your clit and ass as well.”

  “Paris?” I’m struggling to string two words together.

  “It’s just not the same as having hot, sweaty, enthusiastic sex. You know, hair-pulling, back-scratching, slapping on the ass kind of sex.”

  I close my eyes.

  “The sort where you end up with a bruise on the top of your head from the headboard.” She’s relentless, a dreamy look in her eyes. “Where it’s difficult to walk the next day.”

  “Clio…”

  “Oh my God… I’d kill for some sex like that…”

  I finish off my whisky. “We need to end this conversation.”

  She pouts and finishes her G&T. “Just when I was beginning to enjoy myself. Can I have another drink?”

  “Definitely not. I think we’ve both had enough.”

  I stand, and she has no choice but to stand with me. I lead the way to the road, and we begin walking back. I put my hands in the pockets of my jeans so she can’t hold one.

  I feel restless as we walk back, conscious of Clio walking next to me, small and sexy, her blonde hair shining under the fairy lights strung through the trees. She’s gone quiet, no longer teasing me. Maybe she’s worried she’s overstepped the mark. She’s certainly been more outspoken than most other girls I’ve known. No doubt she’s worried about how she’s going to feel if I really turn her down.

  We reach the hotel and go inside, make our way over to the elevators, and press the button to call the carriage. We stand there silently, not looking at each other, a whole world of promise hanging in the air between us.

  I shouldn’t, I mustn’t… I feel edgy and nervous. I don’t trust myself. I should walk away, tell the hotel I’ll sleep in the foyer if they can’t find me a room. I can’t go back to our suite with her.

  But the doors open, we go inside, and they slide quietly shut.

  I lean against the wall, the same way I did earlier, and Clio does the same opposite me. Finally, our eyes meet. Hers are sultry, filled with sexy promise. But there’s also a little hope in them. She’s so young, so joyful to be with. Hot, sweaty, enthusiastic sex. You know, hair-pulling, back-scratching, slapping on the ass kind of sex.

  I haven’t had that kind of sex for years, since before I met Samantha. My body aches for it. My mind yearns for it.

  I have to make a decision. I’m being whatever the male equivalent of a prick-tease is—I don’t want to think what that’s called. I’ve played with Clio this evening, half-suggesting I’m interested, then pulling back—I need to do one or the other or it’s not fair to her. If I’m not going through with it, I need to tell her now, and be completely clear. Tell her no, I’m not interested in having the sort of sex with her that makes it difficult for her to walk the next day.

  God Almighty. Am I really thinking of turning her down?

  I push off the wall. Walk across the carriage toward her. Cup her face in my hands.

  Her eyes light up with pleasure and excitement, and it’s the final acknowledgement I need that I’m doing the right thing.

  I lower my head, and crush my lips to hers.

  Chapter Nine

  Clio

  Ryan tips his head to the right, slanting his lips across mine, and plunges his tongue into my mouth. Holy shit, he’s gone from zero to one hundred in seconds, and I feel like a cartoon character whose heart has leapt from her chest and boinged off down the corridor.

  He wants me! Oh thank God, he wants me. I was convinced I’d overdone it, and he was going to turn me down. I’d have been so embarrassed and disappointed.

  But instead, he’s kissing me, and I raise onto my tiptoes, lift my hands and sink them into his hair, and kiss him back, tightening my fingers in the short strands. He pushes me back against th
e wall of the elevator, pressing his body against me, and oh my God he’s hard as a rock. He moves his hips against mine, and a deep ache begins low inside me. I want him. I want him inside me.

  The elevator pings and the doors slide open, and he tears his mouth from mine, grabs my hand, and marches out and down to our suite. I have to run to keep up with his long legs. At the door, he swipes the key card, pushes the door open, and maneuvers me inside.

  Leaving the door to close behind him, he kisses me again, and I give a low moan. I feel hot and dizzy, desire sweeping through me, sending my thermostat shooting up. Pushing my jacket off my shoulders, I let it slip to the floor. He does the same, and we both toe off our shoes and rip off our socks. I take the hem of my tee in my hands, peel it up my body, and toss it aside. He unbuttons his shirt as I unzip my jeans, his gaze on mine, burning like lasers into me, and we throw those items to one side, too. Then it’s just his jeans left, and he removes them swiftly, and now we’re both in our underwear.

  He’s wearing black boxer-briefs that fit snugly to his tight ass, and his erection juts through them, clearly eager for action. Ooh, he’s big, holy shit, bigger than Theo. Jackpot! I give him a happy smile, and his lips curve up.

  Carefully, he walks me backward until my butt meets the window and kisses me again. Although we’re facing the lake, we overlook the main road, and I know that if anyone were to look up, they’d easily see us. The thought that he doesn’t care sets me alight. This is what I wanted. Pure, unadulterated desire.

  Mmm, now it’s skin on skin, and I smooth my hands up his impressive biceps to his shoulders, then down his chest. Kissing him hungrily, I trace my fingers around his ribs, up to his shoulder blades, then curve my fingers so my nails are resting on his skin and draw them down his back, lightly, but with a hint of pressure.

  He groans, his fingers tightening on my hips. Moving his head back, he looks down at me and brushes his fingers across my tummy, above the line of my panties, making me shiver.

  “I’m so glad you didn’t turn me down,” I whisper.

  He kisses my nose. “So am I.”

  “You’re not going to change your mind?”

  “No, Clio. I’m going to fuck you senseless.”

  “Oh thank God.” My reply is so heartfelt that he laughs. He brings up his hands to cup my breasts and murmurs, “You’re so beautiful.” He runs a finger across the top of them in their red lacy bra, then puts his hands on my shoulders and, to my surprise, turns me around, lifting my arms so I’m resting my hands on the glass.