Going for Broke: Oakland Hills Friends to Lovers Romantic Comedy (Friends with Benefits)

by Gretchen Galway

  Chapter 46

  “Hello, this is Billie,” she said, making herself say it loud, with confidence, not like a naughty pet afraid of being swatted with a newspaper.

  “You stupid, dim-witted, incompetent… female—” Doc began.

  It was an exciting start, but she wasn’t interested in the rest of the story.

  She lowered the phone and hung up. His annoying ’70s hard rock band logo flashed and vanished. Quite sure she never wanted to see it again, she went into settings and blocked the number permanently.

  With a grim smile, she slid her phone into her back pocket and turned her gaze to the view outside the panoramic windows of her Grammy’s now-empty living room.

  She’d wasted a lot of years putting up with that man, but she wouldn’t do it anymore. And no more sucking up to rude Flores Verdes citizens, either. The next time some guy acted like her breasts were public property just like the forms on the permit counter, he was going to get a ballpoint pen stabbed into his eyeball. Or at least a significant bureaucratic delay.

  “What’d he say?” Ian asked, coming up behind her, sliding his hands over her ribs and then higher, gently pinching her nipples as he rested his chin on her head.

  Desire shot down her belly. Other guys had to stay away from the breasts, but not him.

  She could smell his cologne again. It was distracting her from her moment of sober reflection. Instead of feeling sad about years of suffering under Doc’s sadistic bullying, she felt cheerfully tingly about unbuttoning her handyman’s shirt and resting her cheek against his warm, broad, hairy chest. Maybe even drooling on it again.

  It was very, very distracting. She peeked at him over her shoulder, saw his dark brows coming together over those blue eyes. Even more distracting.

  Well, she’d never pretended to have a long attention span. She leaned her head back to rest on his shoulder, and his arms came around her from behind, cradling her in manly flannel heaven.

  “I hung up on him before he could really get into it,” she said.

  Ian’s arms tightened around her waist. “What’d he say?” he growled.

  “He insulted my intelligence and my gender.”

  “I’m going to kill him.”

  Oh, how sweet a threat of violence could be. Leaning back against him, she wrapped her fingers around his forearms to keep him from doing anything that would take him away from her. “You probably think I should’ve told him off, but I didn’t think I could do it without crying. And that would just play right into his bad opinion of me.”

  “Hanging up on him was fine. Getting him fired will be even better.”

  “That’s what I thought,” she said. “Plus I know he hates it when people don’t listen to him. He screams whenever he’s put on hold.”

  “You did the right thing.” Lowering his head, Ian nuzzled her neck, nipping at her hoop earring. “You’re amazing,” he breathed into her ear.

  Leaning back against him, she felt just how amazing he thought she was. “You’re not so bad yourself,” she said, wiggling suggestively.

  But he held her still, his voice serious. “I’ve always thought so. Always. But I thought—I thought it was impossible. Not just because of Jane, but because you, you never seemed—I didn’t think you’d ever—” He made a frustrated sound and went back to kissing her neck. “I’ve never been any good at talking about things like this.”

  A question had been nagging at her since Todd and phone calls had interrupted the conversation in the kitchen. “What did Jane really say about me?”

  “You heard her. She didn’t disagree—”

  “But she didn’t really say it at all, did she?”

  Ian sighed into her hair. “No,” he mumbled.

  Her heart fluttered in her throat, afraid to believe. “Was it my mother?”

  “No,” he said. “But I’m sure she’d agree with every word.”

  Billie closed her eyes and savored the sound of his voice, the strength of his arms, the warmth of his body along hers. “Was it you?” she asked softly.

  He tightened the embrace, moving his lips to her temple. “Yes,” he said. Then, more firmly, “Yes. It was me. Every word. Every meager, inadequate word.”

  “But you barely knew me then.”

  He laughed softly, briefly. “I knew you. Billie, you—I always thought you were the best kind of person. Kind, funny, full of, you know, life. You knew how to be happy. You knew what was important. I was always obsessed with winning a game, playing to win, but you knew how to live.”

  Afraid to get swept away so far she’d never come back, she made another joke. “Living was bad for my GPA.”

  “GPAs are bad for living.” He turned her in his arms, one arm around her waist, the other cupping her cheek, and gazed down into her eyes. “Don’t think about the past. It’s caused us enough trouble.”

  “I’m going back to school, so it’s been on my mind,” she said. “Please don’t try to talk me out of it. I’ve been thinking about it for a long—”

  “Why would I try to talk you out of it?”

  “You know. Because I’m such a bad student,” she said.

  He made a dismissive face. “You were. Doesn’t matter now. Maybe you weren’t motivated. Maybe you had bad teachers,” he said. “And maybe you’ll have trouble again, but you’ll keep at it. Because you’re like that.”

  “Like what?”

  “Unstoppable.” He kissed her lips. “A force of nature.”

  “That doesn’t sound good,” she said. “You make me sound like I’m a hurricane or something.”

  “It’s good.” He slid a hand down her hip and between her thighs. “Very good.”

  Chapter 47

  “Oh, oh, oh,” Jane exclaimed as she walked into the room. “Not while I’m here. For God’s sake.”

  Billie went up on her tiptoes to whisper in Ian’s ear. “Maybe she’ll throw Doritos at us.” And then, because he smelled good, she stuck her tongue inside, loving the way his body jumped in response.

  But he put his hands on her shoulders, stepped back, and turned to Jane. “She hung up on the boss.”

  “Good,” Jane said. “I bet he hated that.”

  Although her body was burning and her heart was singing, Billie forced herself to cool down for a moment and focus on Jane. “Yes, that’s what I thought too.” Then she noticed what Jane was wearing. A navy wool pantsuit was a little fancy for a day at home, even for her. “Where are you going?”

  “Work. I suddenly got the feeling I needed to go into the office.”

  “You don’t have to—” Billie began.

  “Feelings are important,” Ian said, looking at the door. “It’s good to listen to them. You’ll be leaving right away then?”

  “Right away,” Jane said with a smirk.

  “Probably a good idea,” he said.

  “I’m so glad you think so, Ian,” Jane replied.

  “This isn’t because of us, is it?” Billie asked, feeling guilty. “Because—”

  “We appreciate it,” Ian said.

  “You’re welcome.” Jane shot an amused smile at Ian, a tender one to Billie, and strode out. A few seconds later, they heard the front door open and shut.

  Ian took her in his arms, lifting her to her tiptoes. “I’ve never liked Jane as much as I do at this moment.”

  Billie traced his jaw with her fingertip. “Should I call her back? Then I can go, leave you two alone.”

  “You’re not going anywhere.” He grabbed the bottom hem of her T-shirt and began pulling it up. “Arms.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Lift your arms. I’m going to make love to you.”

  “Oh, just like that?”

  “Hardly. I plan on taking lots of time.”

  With a delicious sigh, she lifted her arms over her head and enjoyed the feel of his fingertips tickling along the sides of her body, her breasts, her arms, as he lifted the fabric and threw it aside.

  She’d worn her lucky bra,
of course, and she loved watching the way his eyes darkened as he drank in the sight of it.

  “Billie,” he growled, reaching for her. He kissed her hard, openmouthed, sweeping his tongue between her teeth and sliding across hers. Desire flared low in her belly, where it had been waiting—impatiently, desperately—for him to touch her, take her.

  His kiss became more urgent and as he feasted on her mouth, bending her back as he thrust his tongue into her, finding the waistband of her pants and shoving his hand beneath them to the hot, wet juncture between her legs.

  Her knees gave way, and they both stumbled, striking the window with their bodies.

  He didn’t stop kissing her, but she worried about the glass. “Did we break anything?”

  “Don’t care,” he mumbled against her lips, twisting his hand between her legs to send his fingers deeper, higher.

  She gasped and fell against the window again, knocking her skull against the glass. They were going to put on another show, and she didn’t care, didn’t care at all.

  But he withdrew, frowning, and lifted his hands to cradle her head. Gently caressing her scalp, he said, “One day soon, I will start this when there’s a decent bed nearby.”

  “There’s a bed,” Billie said huskily.

  “Not—not if it’s—”

  She knew immediately what he was afraid of. “It’s not Jane’s. It’s… you’ll see.” Grabbing his hand, she jogged—which was a little painful, given that she was bare-chested—down the hall, where a king-sized four-poster now filled over half her bedroom.

  “Trixie delivered it yesterday. It’s incredible. Jane said it took four men to carry it.” Billie smiled. She’d never suspected Trixie could be so sneaky. All their hours together, and she’d never even hinted. “She sent over a new kitchen table, a dresser, bookcases—”

  Ian interrupted her inventory with another fierce kiss. Never breaking contact, he walked her backward until she felt her thighs hit the edge of the mattress.

  Finally. Ian had thought he’d wanted her before, but this…

  This wanting was unlike anything he’d ever known. He wanted to worship her, hold her, consume her, block out the world, having nothing but her.

  He pushed her onto her back and climbed on top of her, biting an earlobe, licking the pulse at her throat as he hooked his thumbs over the waistband of her pants and underwear and pushed them down. She lifted her hips to help, kicked the fabric free, and soon she was naked.

  Sucking an erect nipple into his mouth, he pressed her against the bed, loving the way she moaned and gave herself up to the moment.

  Billie, he thought, feeling a tightness in his throat that had nothing to do with lust.

  She knew how to live. He was alive when he was with her. He was lucky, so lucky, to have this, to have her…

  He drew away to blow air across her damp skin, glancing up to see the pleasure on her face. Mouth open in a sexy oval, she arched her back and kicked her heels into the mattress, saying his name.

  He licked the other nipple, sucking it hard, dragging his teeth along her skin. He was driving himself insane along with her, wanting to push her thighs apart and sink himself into her this second, immediately, but knowing he’d failed her last time and couldn’t do it again now.

  Her hair had come loose from her ponytail, fanning around her face on the sheets, a dark, wild cloud framing her beautiful face.

  How long had he loved her? He’d never know for sure. Always, maybe. Or perhaps his love didn’t really begin until this moment, because now he couldn’t imagine ever doing anything to risk losing her. Before, he’d been stupid, he’d been blind, he’d taken her body and ignored the reasons why he wanted her. Why, all these years, he’d craved her company. Why she always could make him happier than anyone else ever had. Now he understood everything.

  She was a gift, and she was his.

  Billie.

  He wasn’t good with words, so he’d show her. He crawled down, kissing her belly, caressing her soft curves, and then spread her thighs apart with both hands.

  “Oh,” she said, smiling down at him. Eyes twinkling, she wriggled into the mattress and spread her knees wider.

  She did know how to live.

  After teasing her a little first, enjoying the high-pitched cries he could get her to make, he lowered his head to give her a long, deep kiss. One that went on and on and on.

  He knew how to live too.

  “Now, not—stop—keep doing that—wait—hurry—”

  Her words didn’t make sense, but he knew what she wanted. His own needs were killing him, but he’d manage to wait, hurry, stop, and keep doing that.

  “I’m going to come!” she cried, looking down at him in alarm.

  He glanced up with a faint smile, barely holding on. “Go ahead.”

  “No, no, now. Now. Ian.” She tunneled her fingers into his hair and held on. “Please.”

  “I’m trying.” He blew air across her wet, pink flesh.

  “No. Up here.”

  He stayed where he was. “I want to watch you.”

  “Keep your eyes open, then. Just get up here—”

  He gave her a final push. With a strangled cry, she tossed her head from side to side and began slapping the mattress with both hands.

  Too aroused to smile, he crawled up her body, stroking her, and entered her with a pained noise of his own.

  Sweet, holy hell. He sank into her, deeper, felt her tighten around him.

  He moved out, thrust back in, felt Billie’s nails dig into his back. The sharp pain only made him harder. He began moving in and out, gasping at the tight, wet pressure, feeling her hold him, losing himself.

  But he forced himself to slow down just in time, rolled to his side with her in his arms, and shifted her body over his, gentle curves fitting his hard ones, and pushed up into her. He wanted to watch her take her pleasure; he wanted to watch her take him.

  Her breasts were magnificent, heavy and round, and he caught them with his palms and kneaded them, dragging his thumbs across her nipples to see her throw her head back, exposing her throat, and whimper.

  Gritting his teeth, he thrust up into her again, and again, forgetting to breathe when their movements finally settled into a matching rhythm. A perfect dance.

  And then he was lost, and he began to come, and he increased the pressure of his hand between them to bring her over one more time with him. Delighting him, knocking the last coherent thought from his brain, she met his shuddering cry with her own. Then she collapsed on top of him, first with a sigh and then a laugh, and he wrapped his arms around her and thought, this is the best life has to offer. It was more than enough, almost too much.

  Billie.

  Finally.

  Chapter 48

  Billie had seen beautiful sights before, but this was something else.

  This was breathtaking. This was unreal.

  This was Sebastian James Cooper in a tux.

  “Do I look all right?” he asked, frowning down at himself. He stood on the doorstep holding a bouquet of red tulips, which he held out to her. “I hope you still like these.”

  She tried to swallow. Her mouth had gone dry. “I still like these,” she managed to say, taking the tulips and embracing them to her chest.

  Her blood-red cocktail dress had a low neckline, and the cellophane wrapper poked into the soft flesh of her exposed cleavage. Ignoring the pain, she smiled at him.

  At her request, they had delayed their big date in San Francisco for several weeks. She’d wanted to settle things with Jane, the house, and her job—and save up for the shoes. The dress would be expensive enough, but the shoes were ridiculous, and nothing but a paycheck that reflected her new raise—her job duties were the same, but she’d advanced to the lofty position of Permit Technician II—was going to let her feel responsible enough to buy them.

  Being an advanced permit technician wasn’t the dream job of a lifetime, but it felt pretty damn good for right now. Doc was gone, she
had her friends, she had bigger career plans on the horizon…

  And she had Ian.

  With him on her doorstep, she completely forgot about her job, her vintage dress, her designer footwear. She couldn’t stop staring. He was blindingly handsome, ridiculously debonair.

  And he was all hers. Grinning, she inhaled the honey scent of the tulips and handed them off to the side where, she seemed to remember, Jane had been standing a moment ago.

  “I’ll put them in water,” Jane said, squeezing her arm. “You might want to close your mouth, girl, or a moth will fly in.”

  Billie didn’t break her gaze from the masculine vision before her, but she clicked her jaw shut as she stepped outside, teetering on her heels into Ian’s arms. “Bye, Jane.”

  “I won’t be staying up. Have fun, kids,” she said, closing the door.

  Ian immediately lowered his head and claimed a long, hard kiss. “You look amazing,” he growled, sliding his hand down her spine. It rested on the curve of her bottom, encased in tight satin, stroking back and forth.

  She just laughed. She knew this dress gave her killer curves and the hair stylist a few hours ago had earned the fifty percent tip, but this man was the one who was going to stop traffic. Even the richest, prettiest people in San Francisco were going to be impressed.

  Grinning with pride, she pulled him with her down the steps to his black Ferrari. “You brought your other girlfriend along,” she said.

  “This old thing? Got it on Craigslist.” He opened the door for her, then helped her slide into the padded ocean of tan leather.

  She tucked her legs inside and looked up at him, wondering why he was still standing there.

  He reached down and slowly stroked his hand over her knee to her thigh, which had been exposed as her dress shifted up to her hips when she sat down, and squeezed. Then he leaned down and moved higher, brushing her panties with his fingertips.

  Short of breath, she caught his wrist. “Better not. We’ll never leave.”

  Nostrils flaring, he closed his eyes and nodded. “Right.” After a final squeeze, he stood up, closed the door, and climbed in next to her.