Billionaire's Second Chance

by Claire Adams

  “I know what you did,” I said when he got there. I didn’t bother with any small talk; I wanted him to know that I knew everything that had happened. “I know that Seamus told you to stop seeing me because he wanted me to date his son.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because I happened to be down at Failte the other night when Billy was there, for his birthday. And his parents were with him, and the whole story just sort of came out.”

  “Oh.”

  “Why would you do that?” I asked him. “Why would you stop seeing me all of the sudden, just because he told you to?”

  His eyes were downcast, and he seemed to be struggling to come up with the correct thing to say. “I’d like to tell you that it’s something I don’t want to talk about ever, and just leave it at that,” he said. “Which I suppose I could. But I also want to be honest with you, because I think you deserve that.”

  “Did he threaten to stop being a client? Isn’t that extortion or something?”

  “Seamus obviously cares about his son, and is willing to do some things that maybe other parents wouldn’t,” Ian said. “And no, I don’t want to lose him as a client. But it’s more than that, really. My stepfather used to kick the shit out of me when I was younger. Seamus was the one who eventually put an end to that, which I didn’t realize until recently, when he told me. So in a way, I feel like I owe him this debt, even though I had no idea that I’d incurred it in the first place.”

  “But you don’t owe him anything for that,” I said. “That’s ridiculous. Did you put him up to talking to your stepfather? Did you ask him to do it?”

  “No.”

  “Then you shouldn’t think for a second that it would be something he could use against you.”

  “I know. But . . . it’s hard to explain. I just felt like I had to do it, even though it was really the last thing I wanted to do.” He pressed his lips together. “I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel toward you, Daisy. I know that I’ve said that enough times by now you’re probably rolling your eyes, but it’s true. One of the things that Pete used to say when he’d be kicking the shit out of me was how no one was ever going to want to be with me, that I was that much of a loser. And I think I kind of ingrained that into my mind.”

  He looked so uncomfortable that my heart ached for him. At that moment, he wasn’t the man that could confidently walk into a room and know that he could get with any woman he wanted; I could see him then as he must’ve been when he was a little kid, scared and alone and believing that no one would ever love him.

  “Wait a second,” I said, “I thought you loved your step-father. I thought he was really good to you.” An image of Pete, wheelchair-bound, flashed through my mind. It didn’t seem like that person would be capable of the sorts of things that Ian was saying. “Why would you keep on visiting him if he did all these horrible things to you?”

  “For that exact reason,” Ian said, addressing his hands. He wouldn’t meet my eye. “He was so awful to me, and made me feel like I was completely powerless for so long, that when it the roles were reversed, and he was the one that couldn’t move, couldn’t speak, I just wanted to rub it in his face that I was still here, living my life, getting to go out and do all the sorts of things that he would never be able to do again.”

  “Isn’t that kind of messed up? Sadistic?”

  Ian shrugged. “Probably.”

  “I didn’t realize he’d done all those things to you.”

  “I wouldn’t expect you to. It’s not something that I really like to talk about. But if you want to know the short version of it, Pete used to beat the shit out of me on a regular basis, though he never did anything when my mother was around. She was too busy or tired to be able to do anything about it, anyway. And I didn’t want to be the sort of kid that went running to his mommy just because he was having a problem.”

  “But you were a kid,” I said. “That’s what your parents are there for.”

  “Does it even matter now?” he asked. “I’m not a kid anymore, my mother’s dead, Pete’s in a nursing home.”

  “Maybe it doesn’t matter,” I said. “Maybe it’s something you could’ve moved on from by now, except that you keep going there to see him. Don’t you think if you want to get over it, it’d be better if you just stopped?”

  He finally looked at me. “It probably would,” he said. “But I don’t, because it feels good.”

  I went over to him and put my hands on either side of his face. “I don’t want that to be something that makes you feel good,” I said. “Because part of the reason that makes you feel good is keeping alive the past when he was hurting you. And he’s not doing that anymore, and he can’t do that anymore. I want to be the one to make you feel good. Because being around you makes me feel good—I feel better being around you than I ever have around anyone else. And I mean that. I know there’s been all sorts of shit that’s happened and things that have come up and people that have tried to keep us apart, but I don’t want to let them happen anymore. I am not going to ignore the way I feel about you, and I know that you feel the same way. And I told Billy’s father there was no way in hell that I was ever going to date his son, so he’s not going to bother you about that anymore.”

  A tiny smile touched the corner of Ian’s mouth. “You told Seamus that?”

  “Yes, I did.”

  “And what did he say?”

  “He said he believed me. He said that he was sorry that I felt that way. Or maybe it was his wife that was doing the apologizing, I don’t remember. I don’t really care, either, because you know what? It’s not up to them to decide. Even if what they think they’re doing is in the best interest for their son, I’m not getting involved with someone unless I’m sure that they’re the person I want to be with, one hundred percent.

  “And there’s another thing,” I said. “Something else that I think you should know.”

  “What is it?”

  “I know who leaked the information about Martin.”

  He looked surprised. “You do?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Who?”

  “Jonathan.”

  “Jonathan? You mean the Jonathan that works here?”

  “Yes.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Because he told me.”

  “Oh.”

  The expression on Ian’s face was hard to read. He very much looked like he didn’t want to believe me, but he also knew that I wouldn’t make this up.

  “He told you that?”

  “He did. I was really surprised, too.”

  “But I don’t understand . . . why would he . . .” Ian shook his head. “You know what? It doesn’t matter. Well, it kind of does, but I don’t want to talk about that right now. All I want to do is enjoy the fact that I am here with you, because you’ve really been all that I’ve been able to think about. I don’t want to think about anything else. Can we do that? Can we just enjoy being together with each other?”

  “Of course we can,” I said.

  “I don’t want to talk about Jonathan; I don’t want to talk about Billy.” He brushed a strand of my hair back from my face. “I just want to see you.”

  He leaned down and kissed me, wrapping me up in his arms as he did so. I let my eyes fall shut and my body melt into his, the warmth of him enveloping me in a tingling pleasure that swirled over my whole body. I ran my hands through his hair, down the back of his skull, his neck, felt the thick, ropy muscles there, his smooth, broad shoulders. He started to kiss my neck, biting at me lightly. He pulled my shirt off, then my bra, and his hands went to my breasts. He moved his head lower and began to kiss one of them as he squeezed the other one, rolling my nipple between his thumb and forefinger. When he straightened, I slid my hand between his legs, felt his cock pushing at his pants. I undid the button, pulled down the fly, and slid them over his hips. I rubbed my palm over and around the head of his cock, and he groaned softly into my hair.

  W
e made our way slowly over to the bed, and we stretched out, lying down on our sides so we were facing each other. I kept my hand on his cock, slowly moving it up and down the shaft, and he slid his hand through my pubic hair, down into my pussy. I was already plenty wet, and he slipped a finger inside of me, then pulled it back out and ran it lightly over my clit in a clockwise motion. I pressed against him, rocking my hips back and forth. What I really wanted, though, was to feel him inside of me, his weight pressing down on top of me. As though he knew exactly what I was thinking, he stopped, retrieved his pants, pulled his wallet out, and then a condom. The sensation ebbed only a little while he was doing that; in fact, it might have made it even more intense when he came back over and rolled me onto my back. I let my legs fall apart, and he positioned himself between them, lowering down onto his forearms slowly, leaning his head down to kiss me. He kept his mouth against mine as he pushed himself into me, letting out a low groan as I took him all the way in.

  And then he stopped for a moment, and we just lay there like that, connected, his weight on top of me, my legs wrapped around him, and it felt like we had merged together, we were connected, this was exactly how things were supposed to be. He started to move his hips and I moved with him, scooping my tailbone every time he thrust forward, so he was hitting the exact right spot that made my whole body feel like it was going to dissolve in pleasure. I let my eyes close and lost myself in the feeling, not bothering to hold back as the sensations tingled and grew and it felt so good it was like we were both completely engulfed by it.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Ian

  Things were good—no, great—other than the little problem of Jonathan. I’d gotten a little sidetracked after Daisy first told me what happened, not just with Seamus, but also with Jonathan, and I hadn’t given it much thought. It wasn’t something I could just ignore, but I decided to wait to talk to him about it until Lynn had gone home for the day.

  He was at his desk, looking something up on the computer. The door was open, but I knocked anyway.

  He looked up. “Hey,” he said. “What’s up?”

  “Not much. There’s something I wanted to tell you.”

  “Okay,” he said. “Shoot.”

  “Daisy and I are back together.”

  He looked at me, tight-lipped, and then gave the slightest of nods. “The two of you can’t seem to decide if you’re coming or going.”

  “No help to you.”

  I’d meant to say it as a joke, but it came out more like a challenge. He certainly took it that way, because he stopped what he was doing and stood up, came around his desk.

  “You want to fight?” he said.

  I almost started to laugh, but then I realized he was serious. “No,” I said. “I don’t want to fight you.” It would probably be a pretty fair fight, though. I was bigger than he was, but he had his martial arts training. But that’s not what I wanted to do. “I want to know why you did that, though.”

  “Why I did what?”

  “Why you leaked that information about Martin. You knew he’d flip out. Why would you try to sabotage us like that?”

  “Us?” Jonathan laughed. “That’s a good one. There’s no us, Ian. This is your company. Yeah, I might play an integral part in running it, but it’s your company, and we both know that. But that’s just how it’s always been for you, isn’t it? Shit just always works out for you. I’m so NOT surprised to hear that you and Daisy are back together. Of course you’d end up with the girl that I really like! I haven’t liked someone like that in fucking ages, but who the hell ends up with her? You. Right. But I should have known. I should have known that it was foolish to get her a job here, and then to think that you’d actually talk to her for me. I should have known, because that’s what you’ve always done. Ever since I’ve known you, you basically just take whatever it is that I like and make it your own.”

  “What are you talking about?” I said. “And listen, Jonathan. The whole thing with Daisy—I wasn’t planning for that to happen. I’m not with her solely because I know you like her. That would be a shitty thing to do. I’m with her because . . . well, because I love her. And I’ve never loved anyone like this before. This isn’t something that I can just ignore. I’m not doing this to try to hurt you, and I want you to know that.”

  He could barely contain his eye roll. “Give me a fucking break.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Yes, well, again, I shouldn’t be surprised. I mean, this has been going on ever since you showed up in my back yard with a bloody nose, like some fucking abandoned dog that didn’t have anywhere to go. Do you remember how my mother fucking babied you? It was disgusting. But you didn’t care. You just waltzed right in there and made yourself at home. You think I wanted you there all the time? You think I liked suddenly having this pseudo brother around, this kid that could do everything better than I could?”

  “Um . . .”

  But he wasn’t interested in hearing a single thing I had to say. “Remember how she took us to baseball tryouts when we were in sixth grade? How you didn’t even like baseball? You weren’t even interested in playing, but you went along with it because my mother was excited and thought that we both wanted to try out. So she goes out and gets you all the shit, the glove, the cleats, the fucking stirrups. And then we have tryouts, and who makes the fucking team? Do you even remember that?”

  “Yeah,” I said. “I made the team. And you’re right—I didn’t want to play, but I did because your mother liked baseball so much.”

  Jonathan shook his head. “Of course that’s what you’d remember. What you don’t remember is the fact that I tried out too, and I didn’t fucking make it!”

  “You did?”

  I tried to recall the memory of tryouts, but I couldn’t. Jonathan hadn’t been there though, had he? “I thought you didn’t even like baseball.”

  “That’s what I started telling everyone after the fact, so it wouldn’t seem so pathetic. That here you were, the person who had probably never even picked up a bat, other than maybe a fucking whiffle ball bat, and you make the team, and I don’t. Do you know how many lawns I mowed and driveways I shoveled to earn enough money to buy my glove? But my mom just runs out and gets you one—before you even tried out! It was like she knew. I guess everyone just knows.”

  “Jonathan.” I didn’t know what to say, though. I didn’t know if he was really telling me the truth, or if he was just making all this up in an attempt to make me feel bad. He wouldn’t even look at me. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I really had no idea about all of that stuff. If I had known that you were so into baseball, then I wouldn’t have tried out! I just did it because your mom kept talking about it. If you had told me that you didn’t want me to try out, then I wouldn’t have.”

  “I wanted you to try out,” he said after a minute.

  “But—I thought you just said you didn’t—”

  “No, I did, actually. I wanted you to try out, and I wanted to be the one to make the team, and you didn’t. Or we both made the team but I was a starter, and you weren’t. I just wanted to be better than you. I wanted you to know that there were some things that I could do better than you could, that you didn’t always get to the one who came out on top. And same with Daisy. I knew that you’d think she was hot, but I thought we really had this connection. And I thought it would just really tick you off if I got the girl and you didn’t.”

  “Holy shit,” I said. “So you’re basically telling me your entire existence is to get back at me? I mean, it sounds like you really hate my fucking guts, Jonathan. How have you been able to stand the fact that we see each other all the time? That we work together?”

  “It hasn’t always been easy,” he said. “And I don’t hate you, Ian. I don’t want you to think that. But no one has ever made me feel more . . . shitty and inferior about my life than you have, and you don’t even realize it. I guess I just wanted one thing to work out for me, and not for you. But that doesn’t see
m like it’s going to happen after all.”

  “Do you want to hit me?”

  “Of course I want to fucking hit you.”

  “Then go ahead.”

  He gave me a suspicious look. “I thought you said you didn’t want to fight.”

  “I don’t. But if you want to hit me, if you think that might make you feel better, then go ahead.” I’d always considered Jonathan a friend. No, we didn’t see eye to eye on everything, and we had different interests, but we’d known each other for so long, and we’d been through a lot. It hurt to think that the whole thing had been a façade, that he’d just been biding his time, wanting to get back at me for something I didn’t even realize that I was doing.

  “You’re saying I can hit you.”

  “Yeah. Wherever you want. Well, maybe not the balls. Go on. Punch me in the face if you want. I’m ready.”

  He didn’t say anything right away, and I thought he wasn’t going to do it. At least I had offered.

  But then he spun around and caught me right on the cheekbone with a thunderous right hook. Any harder and my cheekbone probably would have cracked; as it was my head snapped to the side and I felt something in my neck pop, though that sensation wasn’t entirely unpleasant. The whole left side of my face though, felt like it was on fire. A giant pulsing white hot fire. My initial instinct had been to fight back, but I clenched my jaw and stood there, not doing anything. My eye started to water. Jonathan flexed and released his fist.

  “Jesus,” I said, half-expecting him to jump on me and start hitting me again, but he didn’t. “That’s some fucking arm you got there.”

  “Yeah,” he said. “I’ve been working out, remember? That’s where I met Daisy.”

  Touche.

  “Thanks, though,” he said. “That did make me feel a little bit better.”

  “Well,” I said, bringing my hand up to the side of my face and gingerly touching my cheek. “Now that you’ve got that out of your system . . .”

  “I’ve been giving it some thought, though, and I think it’s time for me to move on.”