The Billionaire Bargain 3

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The Billionaire Bargain 3 Page 8

by Monroe, Lila


  He kept eyeing the walls like he wanted to punch them, which was just putting me further on edge. What if he took out a painting? True, he could probably cover the cost, but if these were the originals of whom I suspected they were, my guilt over the loss to the art world would never let me sleep at night.

  Grant started wringing his hands, honest-to-God wringing them, and when he made a fist, that’s when I knew I couldn’t take it anymore. I jumped off my cushion and leapt in front of the nearest maybe-Van Gogh. I could at least protect one of them.

  “Enough, Grant!” There was an edge to my voice, more frayed nerves than actual anger. He paused mid-stride, startled by my shout. “Please. We’re both freaked out right now and you either need to stop pacing the room, or…or find some other way to redirect all that nervous energy.”

  “Oh, I do, do I?”

  A smile quirked his lips as he raked his gaze up and down my body, and I saw the unmistakable hunger in his eyes. I felt heat flushing my cheeks.

  “I didn’t mean—” I started, but he was already striding toward me.

  Okay, I’ll admit it: my arms may have already been held out as he swept me up and carried me into the bedroom, laying me down on the bed as though I were a fragile piece of china he was afraid might break. His lust-darkened eyes devoured me, and I felt my heart speed up, my breathing go short.

  “Didn’t mean what?” he asked.

  “Nothing.” I reached for him.

  He took my hand, his strong fingers interlacing with mine and squeezing tight, as if to reassure him that I was still there.

  “I need you,” he said.

  I kissed his cheek. “I know.” And I did.

  He bent over me, his warm lips lighting fires below my skin as he kissed my neck. Somehow, he also managed to wrestle himself out of his tux, which I’d never realized had so many working parts involved. And God but it took a lot of willpower not to ask him to put the bowtie back on once he was down to his underwear.

  My left hand slid across his bare chest, sketching the planes of his rock-hard muscles, teasing at his light chest hair, before dipping lower and rubbing him through his black briefs. He immediately hardened further against my fingertips, and he groaned deep against my skin; I flushed and grew wet between my thighs, already desperate to have him inside me.

  His left hand still interlaced with mine, his right began to stroke and squeeze my breasts through the filmy fabric of my dress. Impatient to feel his touch on my bare skin, I reached over and unzipped it; Grant slipped it down my body with an impassioned growl and tossed it to the floor, descending to suck and bite at my breasts through the silk of my bra.

  He abandoned his grip on my hand, his fingers trailing down to stroke over the lace of my panties, and then he dipped inside.

  I yelped as he touched my clit, seeing stars. He slid down the length of me, and I savored the feel of his every muscle against my skin. His hot tongue teased at the hem of my panties before his hands tugged those down as well, and then his clever tongue was stroking against me, feinting at my clit, diving deep within me.

  I arched shamelessly against his hungry mouth, my hands gripping at his powerful shoulders as I twisted and moaned his name, “Oh, Grant, oh, Grant, oh Grant…”

  My eyes slid shut in ecstasy, and he stopped. “Look at me,” he ordered, his voice gravelly and deep. “Look me in the eyes while I lick you. Look me in the eyes and tell me how much you like it, how much you want it.”

  I forced myself to keep my eyes open, looking into the forceful blue pools of his, even as the connection threatened to overwhelm me with its intensity, push me over the edge.

  “Oh Grant, please—I want it—I want you—”

  I pulled him free and a groan escaped him as he raised himself up on his arms, and then slid into me like he was coming home, a look on his face as if he knew he was exactly where the universe wanted him to be.

  I gasped at the sensation of him, even better than I had remembered, even more strong. He thrust into me with steady, even strokes, watching my face, leaning forward to slowly kiss away the track of each tear.

  He stoked the fires inside me, letting them burn brighter then cool down, a little hotter each time, still not quite reaching an inferno. I stared up at his eyes, drowning in those pools of intoxicating blue. My hands gripped at his back, at his ass, trying to drive him yet deeper inside me. The pressure built inside of me until I thought I might explode, and I pushed up against him, desperate for more friction, for just the little push over the edge.

  “Please,” I whispered, stretching up to nip and nibble at his earlobe; he gasped against my neck, the heat of it tingling my skin. “Oh please, Grant, more, I need it deeper, I need you, I need—”

  He pulled away and I cried out, hurt spilling into my voice. But he kissed me tenderly, silencing my protests, and firmly flipped me over onto my hands and knees.

  “You want it deep?” he rumbled.

  I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry. I had forgotten how to breathe. Breathing, what was that?

  “Yes,” I managed. “Please.”

  One of his hands gripped firmly at my shoulder, the other steadied my hip. I could hear his breathing, harsh and eager.

  This felt primal, animal, as if he was about to claim me—but his touch was kind, tender. I was pinned, trapped, unable to see him—and yet it was I who had surrendered myself to him, who gave him my trust and turned my eyes from him to let him do as he wished.

  It was everything I had ever been attracted to all at once and it was driving me mad; I was so wet, so ready.

  I arched up against him, and he drove his cock deep inside me.

  I cried out, begging him to fuck me deeper, harder, longer, to fuck me and never stop fucking me, to give it all to me until I couldn’t take any more—and then I lost track of the words that were spilling from my mouth, the words that were becoming gasps and incoherent moans, I lost track of everything but his powerful grip and his hard strokes slamming into me, taking everything I had to give and demanding more, more, more—

  The fingers on my hip stretched up to circle my clit and again I saw stars, the whole freaking universe, screaming as my orgasm hit, my core clenching tight around him until he gave one final long thrust and spilled himself inside me with a moan.

  I came back down to earth, and felt tears in my eyes. “You were gone,” I whispered, my voice almost breaking. “I went away, but I came back, and you were gone even though you were right there and I thought I’d lost you forever…”

  “You could never lose me,” he whispered, and pressed a kiss to my forehead. Were those tears I heard in his voice as well? I couldn’t see. “We’re connected, you and I. The thread that binds us may stretch and fray, but it will never break. And whatever happens today, we’ll get through it. Together.”

  • • •

  We quickly dressed, hoping that no one in the hall—or, God forbid, the ballroom below—had heard our hot monkey sex and that they had made a decision in our favor. Grant looked much happier, but the worry wouldn’t go away until we knew what they had decided. But it couldn’t be much longer now; it had already been over an hour.

  “Damn, but I almost wish there was bad news. If there were only any news at all—”

  I stood up and crossed to him, realizing with dawning discomfort that my panties were on backwards. No matter. I took his hands and squeezed them.

  “Grant, you were great. I know things are tense right now, but I swear, this is going to be fine. Nobody could go against you, not after all those things you said, and the way you said them. You were amazing.”

  Grant looked at me as if I were a beautifully crafted puzzle box he had no hope of unlocking. His hand slid up my arm, and cupped my cheek gently. “Why do you care so much?” He didn’t throw it in my face cruelly as he once had; his voice this time was soft, gentle, hopeful and curious at the same time. “Why do you always have my back on this?”

  I faltered. “The—the company means
a lot to me. The way they took a chance on me—the things I can do with them in the future—”

  Some spark of hope seemed to flicker out on Grant’s face. “I see.”

  My heart seemed caught in my throat as I held his gaze and spoke the next words. “And you…you mean a lot to me, too. More than the company. More than…anything.”

  Grant’s eyes widened, and then he was kissing me, pulling me so close into his embrace that I couldn’t tell where he ended and I began.

  “Lacey,” he said breathlessly, pulling away for just a second before kissing me again. He smiled crookedly against my lips, and there was a light of awe in his eyes that I could never get tired of. “You…I care about you too. I care so much, I—God, Lacey.”

  He kissed me again as if to say what he couldn’t, and then switched back to words.

  “You made me a better man. You made me realize I wanted to be a better man. Before you, I didn’t realize the impact my resources could have—I didn’t realize the impact I could have, for good.”

  “You were pretty good on the impact for speedboats though,” I teased, trying to cover up my blushing. I might have succeeded at that, but the tears of joy streaming down my face kind of ruined it.

  Grant wiped them away as gently as if he were straightening the wings of a butterfly. “Lacey, I’m trying to say that I love you.”

  And there, in that moment, all was right with the universe.

  I kissed him back desperately, my nails digging into his arms, my teeth nipping at his lips as his stubble ground against my skin. It was happening, oh God, it was really happening: I had really told him how I felt and he wasn’t laughing at me, he was kissing me, and he loved me, he’d said he loved me, he really loved me. And I was never letting him go.

  “I love you too,” I whispered, my heart so filled with joy that it might explode. Then I grinned and whooped. “I love you too!”

  Grant squeezed me tight, and leaned in for another kiss—

  My assistant Tina burst into the room, her face split in the biggest grin I had ever seen.

  “We won! Oh my God, you guys, we won! It was a landslide! Portia’s packing her bags! We won, we won, we won!”

  She did a little dance and then, squealing, ran off, presumably to spread the good tidings.

  “We really did it,” Grant said, sinking onto the sofa, dazed.

  “And Tina spoke an entire paragraph without ending a single sentence in a question mark,” I added. “Between that and the fact that you love me—” Lord, but I was never going to be tired of hearing those words—“today is looking like a day for miracles.”

  “You have it the wrong way around,” Grant said, reaching for me and pulling me down beside him. “The miracle is that you love me.”

  And before I could argue it further, he kissed me again.

  Our kisses moments ago had been desperate and passionate, their ardor born of our startled joy, of our urgent need to confirm that the other loved us, wanted us, was truly there and not just a dream.

  This kiss was slow and tender, a cherishing of each sensation we could give and receive, a promise of love and safety and security. Our lips met again and again, teasing and comforting, tantalizing and then soothing.

  “You know what we should do next?” Grant murmured when we finally broke contact. “Celebrate.”

  I smiled shyly. “I have a few ideas.”

  “Naughty, naughty,” Grant said with raised eyebrows. “You’ll certainly have to share those ideas with me soon. You know I value your contributions.” He took me by the hand and smiled. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

  • • •

  “OMG, you guys!!” Kate threw her arms around us and embraced us both at once, crushing us in her love-fueled and strawberry-daiquiri-scented grip. “You did it! You really did it! You would not believe how happy I am for you!”

  This was Devlin Media Corp’s official public celebration, following shortly on the heels of my and Grant’s private one. Everyone was there—Grant had rented out a football stadium in order to fit in as many shareholders, employees, and families as wanted to attend. There was free pizza, booze, three bands Grant had called in, and fireworks. Now that’s what I’d call a proper company picnic.

  “Thanks, Kate, I love you too, girl,” I said, laughing and disengaging gently. “Damn, but my man knows how to throw a party.”

  I leaned back into him, feeling a doofy smile spread across my face. Not going to lie, my favorite part of this event was how Grant had kept his arm around me the whole time. I could spend the rest of my life this way.

  He leaned down and kissed my temple. “Only the best for you, sugarplum.”

  Kate rolled her eyes. “All right, you lovebirds, watch it. There are children present.”

  She spotted someone over our shoulder, her eyes widening. “Holy shit, is that—did you seriously invite—”

  “Your favorite actor to ever play Sherlock Holmes? Yes, yes, we did,” I said, laughing. “And he’s got an autograph just for you. I never would have gotten halfway here without your advice, after all.”

  “Girl, I will give you about a thousand thank-yous later, but right now I have to go tackle-hug this man!” And Kate was off like a shot.

  I chuckled fondly and let my head fall against Grant’s shoulder. “You really are amazing. I don’t know what could top this.”

  “Well, I do have some ideas to start with.” He guided me into a private patch of shadow and slid two pieces of paper into my hand.

  I gaped at them for several seconds before I could believe my eyes. “Tickets to the Caribbean?”

  He grinned. “We leave tonight.”

  I stared up at him, blown away by his thoughtfulness and generosity. “Really? You’re serious?”

  That grin widened, playful and wicked. “Oh, I’m very serious, Lacey. You’ve earned yourself a decent vacation.” He leaned in, his hot breath tickling my ear as he growled. “You see, I’ve been a very bad boss, overworking you so.”

  His hand slid to cup my breast, his fingers circling but not quite touching my nipple.

  My breath caught in my throat. “Have you heard me complaining?”

  “Nonetheless, now I’m going to make it up to you.” His voice dipped lower, a sensual growl. “We have a private villa, beachfront.”

  “Nice view?” I asked, trying to be casual even as he set my body on fire.

  “Oh, I’m hoping for a very nice view indeed.” The glint in his eyes grew mischievous. “Didn’t I mention? It’s clothing optional.”

  The end.

  EPILOGUE

  I lay sprawled on our towel, luxuriating both in the heat of the sun and the heat of Grant’s bronzed body next to mine.

  The light made the white sands gleam as though we rested on diamonds, and turned the ocean into a sparkling sapphire, yet a light breeze played with my hair and kept me cool as it carried the sounds of exotic birds and a steel drum band just around the bend of the coastline.

  “Ready for another dip?” Grant asked.

  “Mmm, just a minute,” I said, snuggling up to his side. “I just want to treasure this moment a little bit longer.”

  “Well, with a reason like that,” Grant said, sliding his strong arms around me, “feel free to take all the time you need.”

  The past week had been amazing: snorkeling in the shallows and scuba diving in the coral reefs during the day, dances and fancy banquet dinners at night. We had hiked through leafy green jungles, visited quaint cafes where the scent of coffee mingled with pineapple and the sea-salt air, walked hand in hand through the moonlit streets, just talking and enjoying each other’s company.

  Grant pulled out a sunscreen bottle and began to massage the coconut-scented lotion into my skin. He also took the opportunity to stroke my legs, teasing at the sensitive skin of my inner thighs, his hand slowly traveling higher and higher.

  “You’re incorrigible,” I told him with a light smack to his arm that did nothing to disc
ourage him. After all, I hardly wanted him to stop.

  “I’m purely and nobly concerned for the safety of your skin,” he said with a straight face. He leaned over, murmuring just before his lips met mine: “After all, it’s very important to watch what you eat.”

  He kissed me sensually, and I reached up to cradle his face as I kissed him back, reveling in the taste of his lips, the assurance of his touch. He was strong and warm and mine, all mine. My beautiful, kind Grant.

  “I wish we never had to leave,” I whispered when we finally pulled apart, staring into those eyes even bluer than the sea we lay by. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”

  He stroked my cheek. “I don’t know about ‘here,’ but I can certainly assure you on the ‘forever.’”

  And then I felt a ring being slid onto my finger.

  I looked down and gasped, and then looked up into his eyes, uncertain whether to believe that this was really happening, that he was really saying what I thought he was saying.

  “You are the sun of my life,” Grant said solemnly. “You warm my heart. You shed light on all my dreams and the ways to make them come true. I find my entire existence revolving around you, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He crooked a shy smile. “Even if it means trying an astonishing variety of quinoa-based dishes with your mother. I would not have you any other way, and I would not have anyone but you. Marry me, Lacey Newman? For real this time.”

  And what do you think I said?

  “Yes!”

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