The Proposal (A Billionaire Romance)

by Nikki Wild

  “Yeah, that’s my fault, right?” I asked. Ian’s disappointment in me was always evident, always right on the surface.

  “Pretty much, Liam,” he said. “I guess most people who sign on to be a tour manager don’t fancy getting death threats.”

  “Right,” I said, falling silent as we walked back to the hotel. The bright sunshine blinded us as soon as we walked outside. We put our sunglasses on and put our heads down, hoping to avoid being recognized by anyone during the short walk to the hotel. We usually had Big D with us, but Ian and I insisted on visiting the hospital completely alone. Big D was a big, scary guy, and the kids at the hospital had enough fear in their lives.

  “How’s everything going with Catherine?” Ian asked.

  “I don’t know. I’m sure I’m probably screwing that up, too.”

  “Yeah, you probably are.”

  I laughed, in spite of myself.

  “You’re such a wanker, Ian.”

  “Just make sure you keep your pants on, at least. The last thing we need is another article about your sexual prowess.”

  “Oh, come on, mate! It’d be a smash hit!”

  “Right. Well, if you want to be sure we ever have another smash hit, then you’d better be on your best behavior with her. She could make us or break us.”

  “I hardly think one little story could hold such power, Ian.”

  “It’s not the story we’re worried about, Liam. It’s your fucking reputation. As a professional. Interest is waning, ticket sales are down, and nobody wants to work with us. Get your shit together, or we’ll be shovelin’ shit instead of swingin’ that ax, mate. If I have to get a real fuckin’ job because of your shenanigans, I’ll shove my boot up your ass!”

  “Don’t worry, little brother. Have I ever let you down?” I asked.

  “Yes!” he cried, throwing his hands up in the air. “Every bloody day of our lives!”

  “Oh, calm down, Ian! You’re so fuckin’ dramatic. I’ve got Catherine right where I want her.”

  “Well, as long as that isn’t on the tip of your dick…”

  Seventeen

  CATHERINE

  The show in Philadelphia was even better than the one before. Liam’s onstage presence was powerful and raw. Sweat poured down his face as he slithered around the stage like a man possessed. Tonight, he’d traded in his usual jeans for a pair of tight-fitting black leather pants that did nothing to hide the huge bulge between his legs. The usual open shirt was gone completely, his guitar strapped over his shoulder the only other thing he was wearing besides the passion that washed over his face as he sang his heart out.

  The fans ate it up. Lining the stage, they danced and swayed, staring up at him adoringly. I watched from the side with Rhone again, the two of us just as caught up in the energy as everyone else watching. It was impossible not to - they were electric.

  Everything was going smoothly, until Liam was singing an old song from their first album titled “Bad Idea”. He changed the lyrics in the chorus, as I knew as soon as he’d done it. Rhone and I looked at each other and she shook her head.

  “Ian’s going to be so pissed. He does that all the time,” she said. Sure enough, I glanced over at Ian and he was fuming, his death glare firmly pointed in Liam’s direction. “God, I hope they don’t have another fight. I’m getting so sick of Ian being pissed off all the time.”

  Ian turned away from Liam and the show went on normally, but Ian’s anger was apparent.

  When they were finished, Ian stormed off stage, leaving the rest of the band to do the encore without him. Liam was unfazed, singing the songs perfectly, leaving the crowd begging for more when he was finished.

  When it was all over, he strode right over to me, and planted a very sweaty kiss firmly on my lips and then walked away, leaving me stunned and frozen as the others streamed past me.

  “Watch out, Catherine,” Rhone whispered before walking away, “he’s bad news.”

  As if I hadn’t figured that out already.

  His kiss stung my lips and I felt dizzy. I touched a finger to my lips, and felt everything inside of me melt.

  I was in big trouble, and I wasn’t sure there was a way out of it that didn’t include falling under Liam’s spell.

  Eighteen

  LIAM

  Management always booked an extra room at every hotel we stayed at on tour. It was intended to be a place for schmoozing and networking but it just ended up being a big party every time. But we were ‘encouraged’ to attend every night, just in case there were some puffed up VIP’s that someone had deemed important that we meet. I hated that part, but I was almost always up for a party, so I played along.

  Tonight, I wasn’t really in the mood for all of that. I went anyway, but only because I was hoping to get a little farther with Catherine tonight, and by ‘a little farther’ I meant I was hoping to finally sink my cock into her tight little center. I wasn’t one for taking my time, but I was surprised to find that I was enjoying the chase a little bit.

  I was just ready for that to be over.

  As soon as I walked in, I was cornered by Callum.

  “Great show tonight, Liam,” he said.

  “Thanks,” I said, scanning the room over his shoulder for Catherine. I spotted her in the corner talking to Ian and as soon as he saw me, he turned and walked away. So he was still pissed, I thought. Oh, well. No surprise there.

  I headed over to Catherine, leaving Callum talking about something behind me. She was wearing a tiny black dress that left her long legs bare, and they seemed to go on forever. My cock twitched in my pants as I thought about how they’d feel wrapped around my hips. She smiled as I approached.

  “Hello, luv,” I said, pulling her in for a hug. To my surprise, she hugged me back warmly. “You look fuckin’ fantastic.”

  “Thank you,” she replied. She looked away shyly and I saw a slight blush creep up her neck. “How are you? Your show was great.”

  “Was it?” I asked. “I thought so, but I don’t think Ian agrees.”

  “No, I think he’s quite upset with you…again.”

  “I’m sure he is. He’s always pissed at me. Are you seeing that now? There’s a bit of a pattern here,” I winked.

  “I see that,” she said. “It must be exhausting.”

  “For me or for him?” I asked.

  She laughed, and her face lit up with beauty. My cock throbbed between my legs, and just as I was about to ask her if she wanted to leave, Callum walked up.

  “Catherine, this is Callum McGregor, he runs our charity. I told you about him the other day.”

  “Oh, yes,” she replied, holding out her hand. Callum shook it and nodded.

  “Nice to meet you,” he said.

  “Catherine is writing a story for Rolling Stone magazine. She’s attempting to restore my reputation, if you can believe that,” I said.

  “Well, that’s quite a job!” Callum said jokingly. Catherine joined in the laughter.

  “It sounds like you have the important job,” she replied. “I’d love to get together with you, ask you a few questions about the charity - if that’s alright with you, Liam?”

  “Sure, whatever, that’s fine,” I replied. I’d have agreed to anything if it meant I would be alone with Catherine sooner.

  “I don’t think I could really contribute anything to the story…” Callum replied.

  “Oh, it wouldn’t take long at all, actually,” Catherine said. “Just a few minutes of your time? We could even do it by phone.”

  “Sure, that’s fine,” Callum said, pulling out his wallet. “Here’s my card, just give me a call tomorrow and we’ll talk.”

  “Perfect, thank you. It was nice to meet you,” Catherine said.

  “Callum, we must be going,” I interrupted. “I’ll see you when we get to Los Angeles.”

  “Okay, Liam, see you then,” Callum turned and walked away.

  “Is it hard for you to see him?” Catherine asked.

  “I
t’s easier with time,” I replied. “He looks a lot like Ally, so that makes it difficult.”

  She nodded, her green eyes peering into mine.

  “Do you see him often?”

  “No, not really. Usually, when we’re in America, he’ll fly in to go to the hospital with us like he did today. He lives in Los Angeles; that’s where the office for the charity is. I’ll see him again when we get there.”

  “I see,” she said.

  “Enough about Callum. Let’s talk about you, and this sexy dress you’re wearing. Luv, I think I can see every curve of your body in that thing. Tell me - did you wear this for me?” I asked. My cock was quickly growing in my jeans and I wanted to run my hands over every one of those curves.

  “No, I didn’t wear it for you,” she replied, shaking her head.

  “No? I’m hurt,” I said, frowning.

  “Don’t be.”

  “Well maybe you can make it up to me,” I replied.

  “Not that I need to, but just for fun, how would I do that?” she asked with a raised eyebrow.

  “Let’s refresh our drinks and find a quiet place on the balcony to talk, away from all of these boring people. Please?” I asked.

  “Are those manners?” she asked teasingly. “I didn’t know you had them.”

  “I’ve got a lot of things you haven’t seen,” I shot back.

  “Hardly,” she scoffed. “I think I’ve seen your…biggest…attributes,” she joked, gesturing between my legs.

  “Luv, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet,” I replied, with a teasing wink.

  “Maybe not, but I’m still along for the ride,” she said. Was she flirting with me? “So, hit me with your best shot.”

  Oh, she was definitely flirting. This night was picking up quite nicely now.

  “You might live to regret saying that,” I teased back.

  “I think I can handle anything you’ve got, Liam,” she said, lifting her chin.

  “You’re a brave little minx, aren’t you?” I asked, reaching up and tracing the line of her jaw with my fingertip. Her skin was smooth and warm.

  “I like to think so,” she replied, her eyes holding my gaze.

  “Let’s go,” I said, grabbing her hand and heading for the bar. I got us both drinks, and led her out to the balcony.

  Bad idea.

  Ian was standing there, talking quietly with Rhone. When he saw us, he groaned and turned to leave.

  “Ian, you can’t stay mad at me forever,” I said.

  “Piss off, Liam, I’m sick of your shit,” he replied, his eyes shooting daggers at me.

  “For fuck’s sake, it was just one verse that I changed.”

  “You know that pisses me off, Liam. You know everything that pisses me off, and you do it anyway. You have no respect for me,” Ian seethed.

  “Sure I do,” I replied. “I couldn’t do this without you.”

  “Well, you have a seriously fucked up way of showing it, mate!” he yelled, before shoving past me, leaving Catherine and I standing alone on the balcony. I watched through the windows as he left the room, thundering past the dozens of people inside. They all turned back, watching for my reaction.

  Who could blame them? It was a classic Liam move they were waiting for. Surely, I’d throw a chair, hurl an insult at Ian’s back, or throw my drink or something, right? What would it be tonight?

  I was so tired of the old Liam. I didn’t feel like doing any of those things.

  In fact, there was only one thing on my mind, and she was standing in front of me like a fuckin’ siren just waiting to put me under her spell.

  “Let’s get the fuck out of here,” I said, grabbing Catherine’s hand and going back in, streaming past all the curious eyes, leaving them behind to make up whatever story they wanted to.

  I didn’t give a fuck anymore what anyone said about me. No matter what I did, every one just thought the same thing about me anyway.

  Let them say whatever they wanted. Let Catherine print her story, hell, print the truth, I didn’t care. Tell the world that they were right. Liam Mercury is a piece of shit, a loser, a disrespectful, immature, spoiled party boy. None of that mattered right now. None of it ever really did.

  I was surprised, but Catherine let me lead her down the hallway to my room without any protest at all. In fact, she hadn’t said a word.

  “Now, where were we?” I said, putting my drink down and pulling her into my arms as soon as the door closed behind us.

  “We were just going to find a place to talk, remember?” Her eyes flashed up at me and breathed in her fresh, peachy scent. My cock had wilted a little during the Ian fiasco, but now it came back to life in an instant. Her skin was smooth under my fingertips and I trailed my hands over her arms and up to her chin, lingering at her face, running my thumb along the thickness of her bottom lip.

  “Is that what you want, luv? To talk?” I asked, my voice thick with desire.

  Her lips parted and she nodded silently.

  “Is that all, luv?” I lowered my head, the promise of her luscious lips pulling me closer. The last thing I wanted to do was talk. I wanted to forget about everything and loose myself in discovering every inch of her. Her breathe was hot against my lips as I inched closer and just before I made contact, she turned her head, my lips landing on her cheek.

  “Liam, we shouldn’t,” she protested, her hand on my chest, pushing me away.

  “Why the bloody hell not?” I asked. I couldn’t think of one good reason why we still had our fuckin’ clothes on.

  “I’m here to write a story about you, not fuck you,” she said, turning and walking away. She walked over and sat on the couch that lined the wall of my suite. Her long legs jutted out away from her body, and I couldn’t stop looking at them. She crossed them at her ankles, and I imagined myself wedged between them, my head lowering until I could taste her sweet pussy.

  “You don’t fancy a fuck?” I asked, jokingly. Humor had a way of breaking through all barriers.

  She laughed, throwing her pretty head back and exposing that long, smooth neck.

  I sat down next to her and she turned towards me.

  “You never stop, do you?”

  “Stop? Stop what?”

  “Slow down. Turn it down a notch. It’s like you’re always ‘on’.”

  “I don’t really think anyone wants me to turn anything down,” I replied. “I’m expected to be like this. You should see what happens when I stay in my room and read a book. Everyone loses their shit.”

  She nodded, looking at me thoughtfully. Her hair was flowing over her shoulders in loose waves, and I reached over and ran my fingers through it.

  “Work, Liam. We’re here to work,” she said.

  “I’m tired of working. You can interview me tomorrow. Let’s talk about you,” I said. “I’m bored to tears with me.”

  “Okay, what do you want to know?” she asked.

  “Tell me something that most people don’t know about you,” I said.

  “Hmm, well…let’s see,” she replied, her eyes darting away from me. It took all my strength not to lick her neck. She was so close, so fuckin’ beautiful, it hurt not to touch her. “I’m a songwriter.”

  “What!” I exclaimed, pulling back and looking at her face. “No shit!”

  “Yep,” she said. A gleam appeared in her eye, and I could tell she had just told me something she was very proud of.

  “Have you written anything I’ve heard of?”

  “Maybe…”

  “Well, bloody tell me already!” The sound of her laughter was like music to my ears. I wasn’t expecting her to say she was a songwriter. It was the only thing I couldn’t do better than Ian, which I regretted terribly, but I’d learned to live with it. Hell, if it wasn’t for Ian’s songwriting abilities, we’d never have gotten out of our parent’s basement.

  “I wrote ‘Fade Away’, it was recorded by the Honey Bees.”

  “The top US girl band? I know that song!”

&n
bsp; “Yeah, that’s them,” she replied, looking down shyly.

  “What else?” I asked.

  “The Dreams recorded a song I wrote called ‘Love Bomb’.”

  “You fuckin’ wrote Love Bomb? I love that bloody song! It’s so catchy,” I replied. “I’m so impressed. I had no idea.”

  “Yeah, but nobody remembers the names of songwriters, they only remember the singers.”

  “I can’t write a song to save my life. I mean, I’ve tried, I’ve written a few, but that’s Ian’s job. I guess that’s why he gets so pissed when I change the words. Whatever,” I shrugged. I looked at her curiously, seeing her in a new light. “Maybe we could write a song together.”

  “What?” she asked. “I don’t think so. I haven’t done that in so long, and surely Ian wouldn’t like that.”

  “Ian can piss off. Maybe I’ll venture out, do some solo work.”

  “I’m sure you’re not a bad songwriter, Liam. Maybe you shouldn’t listen to Ian so much. He can’t be right about everything.”

  “No, but he sure as fuck thinks he is,” I replied. “And you’re right, I can do whatever the fuck I want. I don’t need his permission. But I don’t want to talk about Ian.” I finished off the whiskey in my glass and poured more. I was delighted to see her glass was empty as well, and I filled it up. Her shoulders had relaxed, and she’d loosened up a little, her hair falling in her face. She licked some whiskey off her lips and my cock twitched.

  “Is it hard on you? Fighting with him so much?” she asked.

  “No, not at all.” Fucking Ian. Why did she insist on talking about him?

  “Rhone thinks it’s hard on Ian,” she replied.

  “If he wasn’t so fuckin’ uptight, we wouldn’t fight so much.”

  “I see,” she replied, sipping the drink I handed her.

  “Can we stop, please?” I asked.

  “Stop what?” She looked over at me and licked her lips again. My cock throbbed painfully and I shifted in my seat. I was getting tired of this patient guy routine very quickly.

  “Let’s stop pretending, Catherine,” I said, lowering my voice. I reached out, pushing the strand of hair away from her cheek. “Stop wasting time. Stop acting like this night isn’t going to end with us tangled up in the sheets together.”