Deal Breaker: Billionaire Bosses

by Tara Leigh

  I was twisting from side to side, so hot I couldn’t fathom how my bikini bottom hadn’t melted away. But it was still there, a barrier I couldn’t wait to be rid of. As I gasped for air, Nash released my wrists. Seconds later his fingers were hooked over the strings knotted at my sides, sliding them down my legs.

  And then I was naked, Nash’s hands at my feet. Electricity shot from my toes to the top of my head and everywhere in between. I was buzzing, vibrating, the sound of my heartbeat pounding against my eardrums. Nash’s hands slid up my calves, wrapping around my knees and gently pushing them outward, raining kisses along the insides of my thighs. As he settled between my legs, those hands moved beneath me, palming my ass. My breath caught in the back of my throat, wavering between shouting for him to stop and cheering him on.

  Every muscle was tense and knotted as Nash’s stubbled jawline abraded my sensitive skin, his mouth moving closer to my core. “I didn’t know if I’d ever get a taste of you,” he growled. A flick of his tongue added an exclamation point to his hoarse words, my hips jerking upward. “So damned sweet.”

  Hands that had been beneath me shifted slightly, just enough so his thumbs could curve around my hipbones, keep me from bouncing off the mattress as his tongue slipped further within my folds, lapping at secret places only he had ever discovered. It was like he had an instructional guide that even I had never read. He started slow, avoiding that button that Derrick had rarely even found. Nash knew exactly where it was, though, teasing me every so often with a long lick that left me gasping for air. Pleasure built and built, my back arching higher and higher. Made up words and senseless phrases bled from my mouth, interspersed with Nash’s name.

  Nash—a four letter word I wanted to scream from the top of my lungs every day of my life. It was a curse and a plea, a command and a chant.

  Pleasure condensed from a crazy zigzag to a straight line, becoming thinner and thinner, so tight and taut it finally snapped. With a cry, I tumbled free, spinning and swirling, my weightless body floating in an erotic, blissful cloud. Eventually, Nash kissed his way up my sweat-slick skin, ecstatic aftershocks still rolling through me. Turning my head into his neck, I ran my fingers through his tousled hair, feeling myself settle back down to earth. “That was incredible,” I panted, finally able to form a rational thought.

  He kissed my forehead, the tip of my nose, finally my mouth. “You’re incredible.”

  “I know you don’t like compliments, but I think you might just deserve an award for that.”

  Nash full lips curved into a smile. “You’re my reward.”

  I kissed him, hard. “Award. Like a prize.”

  “I heard you. Reward, award, prize. You.”

  The expression on this man I’d originally thought so hard, so callous, was as sweet as a teddy bear. But his body was stiff with tension, the blood inflating his muscles surging with hunger. Capturing his stare with my eyes, I dragged my hands below the arms he’d planted so solidly beside me, pushing at his still damp swim trunks. Holding a plank as I wrestled them off his hips, Nash moaned as he kicked them away.

  I ran my fingers over the contours and planes of his body, bringing them back to his face to cup a jaw that was clenched so tight it could have been carved from marble. A breath shuddered from his mouth, slivers of his control breaking away, the vibrations echoing against my palms. My hands couldn’t stay still, sliding down his throat, skimming his sides, to the place our bodies were just an inch apart. To the part of him that would soon be inside of me. Nash pulsed in my palm, thick and hot, skin like brushed velvet. “Nixie,” he groaned, closing his eyes for just a moment before opening them again, pinpoints of intense black staring at me from a sea of the deepest, lushest green.

  I sucked in a shallow breath as his hips rocked toward me, my lungs too small to contain the rising tide of lust and empowerment swelling within my chest, and began to slide down the mattress. I wanted to take Nash in my mouth, to do for him what he’d done for me. But he grabbed my shoulders. “No, baby. You feel too damn good. I need you to stop for a sec.” He yanked at the nightstand drawer and made quick work of a condom while I tried not to stare in awe.

  A second later Nash captured my hands again, entwining our fingers together and pressing them above my head. My knees edged apart as a deep reservoir of hunger uncoiled within my stomach. Breathless with anticipation, I stared at Nash as my hips arched upward, the heady taste of lust filling my mouth. He’d barely nudged me open when his head dropped, his cheek resting against mine, the tip of his nose brushing the shell of my ear as he repeated my name again.

  Desperate to feel him deep inside me, a needy whimper leapt from my throat. Nash pulled back, his strong features arranged into an expression that made my breath hitch. Lust and want and need. Something else, too. Was it too much to hope that it was love? But the question skittered away as Nash began sinking into my center, inch by delicious inch. His hands tightened their hold on mine, eyes pinning me beneath him as surely as the weight of his body. His gaze shifted to my mouth, his lips following. With my kiss, I spilled the truths threatening to burst from my heart. I loved Nash Knight—so much, I wondered if the words were redundant. Could he see it, feel it? Was it written all over my face?

  A trail of fire raced along the network of nerves pressing against the surface of my skin. I was burning up from the inside, stoked by a brand pushing its way into the deepest part of me. An exquisite invasion. For so long I’d felt empty and alone. Now I was full to overflowing, and cocooned within Nash’s arms. Releasing a shuddering sigh, I wrapped my legs around his hips, pushing back against him, craving friction.

  He smiled down at me and my stomach flipped, yet again. So different than the smile he’d flashed the first night we’d met. That one had been arrogant and cocky, totally one sided. This one was better, brighter. Meant just for me. There was a kindness to the curve of his lips, a recklessness, too. Like we shared a secret that somehow bound us together, and he was glad. “Impatient minx,” he whispered, low and teasing.

  My own vocabulary was down to the bare necessities. “Please,” I rasped.

  Nash released my hands, sliding his fingers to the base of my skull, cupping my head as he leaned in for another kiss. His mouth sliced over mine, his tongue pushing into my mouth, his hips pulling out. Like a see-saw, he kissed and stroked, alternating thrusts until my head was spinning. My hands roved up and down his back, luxuriating in the movement of his perfect muscles, the curved arch of his spine, the strength of his thighs.

  I clung to the pattern Nash established, meeting his thrusts, clutching his shoulders, moaning his name. Waves of sensation broke over my skin, penetrating deep. His movements went from long and slow to determined, purposeful jabs. He broke our kiss, pulling back slightly as his hand slipped between us. I cried out from the surge that rushed through me, tension coiling fast and then shattering completely apart, suffusing my veins with glittering shards of bliss. Nash buried his face into the hollow between my neck and shoulder, his muffled yell vibrating through my bones as his body collapsed onto mine. I reveled in the weight, his quick puffs of air sending chills down my spine.

  Too soon, he lifted onto his elbows, putting space between us. “Are you okay?” he asked, his concerned stare so sincere.

  I swallowed my disappointment at the decreased contact. “Um, better than okay. That was . . . wow.”

  “Ditto.” His lips pursed, as if he wanted to say more, but instead he scrubbed a palm over his face.

  Suddenly self-conscious, I rolled my eyes in an effort to downplay what had just passed between us. “Whatever, you’ve done this a lot more than I have. You don’t have to pretend that you’ve never had good sex before.”

  As if he knew exactly what I was doing, and why, Nash rolled to the side, bringing me with him and tenderly sweeping away the wisps of hair clinging to my damp forehead. “Nixie, I’ve sure as hell never done that before. I don’t even know what that was.”

  CHAPTER SIXTEENr />
  Nash

  I’ve hated Thanksgiving for the past sixteen years. No matter how delicious the food or strong the liquor, there’s always an empty chair where my brother should have sat. Last year I’d flown to Florida with Eva and the kids the Wednesday before but faked a work emergency and came back to New York on Thursday morning, before my mother had even put the turkey in the oven, and proceeded to get drunk in my office.

  Somehow Reggie had found out I was back in New York, and managed to bring me back to the Center. Once I sobered up, I spent the rest of the holiday weekend sparring with anyone looking for a fight.

  Today, there were no empty seats surrounding the table. No boxing gloves on my hands. I was holding a finely aged scotch, though, courtesy of Tristan’s impressive cellar.

  Nixie and I had spent the early part of the day at the beach with Tristan and Reina while Celeste and Eva baked cookies and pies with the twins. Nixie had offered to stay back and help, too, but Reina had taken her aside, whispering that the staff did most of the work in the kitchen and preferred that we stay out of their way. I knew there was a reason I liked Tristan’s new bride.

  It was nice to see my friend so happy in his personal life. Tristan and Reina had a pretty public struggle a while back, and not only did they stick it out, they had gotten married and were expecting their first child in a few months.

  Reina stood up now, gazing at her husband as she lifted her glass of sparkling apple cider with one hand and rubbed the swell of her belly with the other. “I’m sure it’s pregnancy hormones talking, but I just want to say how happy I am that all of you have joined us for the holidays.” A tiny tear slipped from the corner of her eye, snaking its way down her cheek. “Honestly, I still can’t believe I’m here. I always hated this holiday because it reminded me of the people missing from my life.” Her gaze flicked to me, and I gave a small nod. “But today, I’m so grateful to be madly in love with my husband, and to have gained a sister, and soon, a baby.” Reina cast her eyes around the table, grinning giddily at my parents and me, Eva and the twins, and Nixie.

  Tristan rose, pulling her into his side. “Well, I for one would like to thank all of our guests for joining us today. Otherwise Reina and I would be here alone with Celeste, who just kicked her latest boyfriend to the curb.” He lifted his glass toward his sister. “Smart move, by the way. And my Thanksgiving would have been spent learning all the different reasons men are the inferior species. You have saved me, and I thank you.” He gave a slight bow, waiting until Reina was seated again before dropping back into his own chair.

  Not one to be undone, Celeste popped up. “I’m happy to give you a lesson anytime you like, Tristan. But for now, I’m just so glad to be with one of my oldest and dearest friends, Eva, and her family.” I noticed Nixie dip her head, and I worried she was feeling excluded. But apparently Celeste noticed also. “And that includes you, too, Nixie. I think we’re all dying to know the reason Nash whisked you away from whatever big bad wolf was after you in New York, but I’m glad you’re here with us.”

  Nixie glanced up when Celeste mentioned her name, and now her flawless skin was glowing pink, and not just from the strong Caribbean sun. Her mouth opened, but it was Madison who spoke first. “You’re being chased by the big bad wolf?” she asked, awe dripping from her voice.

  Eva shot a glance at her friend before turning back to her daughter. “No, sweetheart. Celeste was just being silly.”

  Madison’s little eyebrows pulled together. “Oh. Can we go play now?”

  Parker slipped off his chair. “Thank you for Thanksgiving. It was yummy.”

  My parents had been quiet for most of the meal and now looked over at Eva, who was halfway out of her chair. “Eva, sit, sit,” my mother urged, gesturing with her hands as my father stood and pulled back her heavy chair. “Stay with your friends, we’ll take Madison and Parker for a walk on the beach.”

  My father rubbed a belly that had grown in recent years. “I could use a walk, too.”

  My mother elbowed him. “I should think so,” she chided. His cholesterol and blood pressure had crept up, too, and he was forever circumventing her efforts to change his diet.

  Eva flashed a grateful smile. “Thanks. I’m sure they would love that.”

  Celeste waited until the foursome had left the room. “I’m sorry if I said something out of line.”

  “No, it’s fine,” Nixie said, rushing to offer reassurance before taking a quick sip from her wine glass. We hadn’t yet managed a repeat performance of the other afternoon, although it wasn’t for lack of interest on my part. But between my parents’ arrival, and then Tristan, plus running around after the twins . . . I was ready to kidnap Nixie myself. Unfortunately she’d made it perfectly clear that she didn’t want anyone to know what had transpired between us.

  At least until we’d figured it out ourselves.

  And somehow I knew by we, she meant me.

  I hadn’t lied to Nixie. The way I felt for her, the way I felt with her—I genuinely wasn’t sure what to make of it myself. As someone who makes tough decisions for a living, spending hundreds of millions of dollars on a typical deal, killing or creating jobs with the stroke of a pen, I was left with an unsettled feeling in the pit of my stomach. Every move I made, every word I said, was unsteady, ambivalent.

  “Well, I’m staying in Bermuda until the end of the month and you’re welcome to stay here with me. After everyone leaves it’s going to be too quiet, although I can’t bring myself to go back to the cold just yet.”

  “Thanks, Celeste. That’s really nice of you.” Nixie glanced at me. “Nash is making a big deal over nothing. Despite the plunging temperatures, I think I’d like to head back to New York.”

  I perked up. “You know, it’s not a bad idea.” With Nixie safe in Bermuda, I could take a closer look into the Attwoods’ business myself, maybe even pay Derrick a visit. Not to mention make another trip out to Nebraska. There had to be something I could offer Duncan to make him reconsider.

  “I’ll be fine.” Nixie’s voice was firm, her mouth a tight line. “He’s not going to bother me again. And I have classes next week, and Kismet, too.”

  Tristan had been watching our exchange with mild interest, and he lifted concerned eyes to me. “You working on this?”

  Nixie caught my quick nod. “No, he is not. Nash, I mean it. Derrick is not your problem.”

  “He hurt you. My problem or not, he’s a damn problem.”

  Reina’s eyes widened. “Someone hurt you?”

  “No.”

  “Yes.” Nixie and I spoke at the same time.

  Celeste looked at the two of us and then at her sister-in-law, shifting to the edge of her seat. “This might be even juicier than our family drama.”

  Reina let out a low laugh. “I don’t know. Ours is pretty tough to top.”

  Eva reached out to cover Nixie’s hand with one of her own. “We’re all friends at this table. Maybe we can help.”

  Uncertainty was smeared across Nixie’s face, like greasy handprints defiling freshly polished silver, her lower lip trembling slightly. “Derrick is my ex-boyfriend. He’s not handling our breakup well.”

  Celeste stood up and retrieved the open bottles that had been left on the buffet. “Talk of ex-boyfriends calls for refills.”

  Tristan quirked a smile. “I think that’s our cue to leave the room.” He grabbed his glass and looked at me. “You in?”

  I tossed back what was left of my scotch and rose to my feet. “Hell, yes.”

  Tristan headed toward a terrace off the dining room. Here, there was a terrace or patio off every room, each with a priceless view of pink sand beaches and endless ocean waves. “Thanks for having us, T. It’s been nice to get away from the city.”

  He strode to a mahogany bar and selected a bottle. “I know. Reina and I don’t get here often enough. By the way, I heard about that deal you’ve been sniffing around. Maybe when it closes you should buy a place here.”

  M
y muted grunt disappeared into the breeze. “What deal?”

  “You think your trip to Nebraska was a secret?” He slanted me a dubious look.

  Out of habit, I swiveled my head. Looking for anyone with ears.

  Tristan chuckled. “This isn’t Cipriani’s. No one’s going to overhear you, and we don’t hunt the same prey.”

  “Yeah, well, Duncan isn’t exactly the most willing seller.”

  “NetworkTech isn’t like your usual marks. He built a good company, he’s going to want a good offer.”

  I snorted, lifting my glass. “You have no idea.”

  “That much?”

  “More.” Just when I’d dipped my toes into the relationship pool, I might have to fuck it all up by finding someone to agree to a fake marriage. No way could I ask Nixie, not after what Derrick had tried to pull. And Eva was just too complicated. I couldn’t do that to her, or the twins. I wanted NetworkTech, and entree into the Chinese market. But so far all my efforts to find a similar company to partner with my Hong Kong investment had come up short, and every day brought another possibility that Duncan would find an acceptable buyer. As if my personal life wasn’t turbulent enough, now work was piling on, too.

  I stared out at the swelling sea, horizontal lines of white-capped waves frantically surging forward, only to crash and dissolve into harmless foam. I had enough money to walk away from Wall Street if I wanted to, or maybe throttle back a bit, although until now the thought had never crossed my mind. “How about you, you ever consider slowing down now that another Bettencourt is on the way?”

  “You mean money moves at more than one speed?” Tristan hoisted one shoulder up, let it fall. “Maybe I can work smarter. Reina’s going to take some time off though, now that her fund is up and running.”

  “Business good for your firm?” My question was rhetorical. The scandal Tristan and Reina had weathered last year hadn’t ruined his reputation as Wall Street’s Golden Boy, it had burnished it.

  Tristan rapped his knuckles on the bar. “Knock on wood. So, tell me, what’s up with Nixie?”