Billionaire Biker (Billionaires - #23)

by Claire Adams

“Why do you hate motorcycles? I love motorcycles, and I have most of my life. I grew up around them, sure, but my sister did, too, and she’s not a biker babe. She just wants to help with the company.” Drew shook his head. “For me, though, they are freedom on two wheels. They are so much better than cars. They are the perfect combination of man and machine. I could easily say they are my greatest love.”

  “My husband loved bikes,” I blurted out.

  Drew furrowed his brow but didn’t say anything.

  “Loved them as much as you do,” I said. “He’d tell me the same kind of things. I never loved them like he did, but he’d take me out on them, and it was fun enough, I guess.” I looked down at the table. “He, uh, died in an accident. He got pinned between two cars.” I forced my gaze up to meet his eyes. “If he’d been in a car, he would have had protection. Maybe he would have gotten hurt, but he wouldn’t have died. He’s the only man I ever loved, and motorcycles took him from me. So your greatest love took my greatest love.”

  Drew’s expression softened, and he nodded. “I’m very sorry to hear that, and I understand. Everything makes a lot more sense now.”

  I waited for him to start into some spiel about how I was wrong to blame bikes, but he just sat there, waiting in silence.

  The waitress arrived with our food, placing the plates and then handing Drew a Styrofoam container.

  “If you need anything else,” the waitress said, “just let me know.” With that, she wandered off.

  Drew grabbed his helmet and stood. “I should get going. See you tomorrow. It will be another long day.”

  I didn’t say anything back as he shuffled through the café and headed toward the exit, a serious expression on his face.

  Had I offended him? I couldn’t be sure. He ran a motorcycle company and was a biker, so it was hard not to think I had.

  Still, Drew had asked for my reasons, and I’d told him the truth. He hadn’t fired me, so I could at least be grateful for that. It felt like something had changed between us, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

  At least for the moment, it dampened my desire for him, which meant I’d have an easier time sleeping tonight.

  Mom returned with Jack, and they both sat to eat.

  I watched out the window as Drew loaded his food into his saddlebag and put his helmet on. Jack waved to him and Drew paused to wave back. He finished getting ready, and his bike roared to life before speeding off.

  Jack sighed, “I wanna ride a motorcycle. Motorcycles are cool.”

  His words were like a punch to my gut. Bile rose in my throat, and my stomach churned.

  “Motorcycles are very dangerous, Jack,” I spat out.

  Mom narrowed her eyes with a slight frown but didn’t say anything.

  Jack frowned and stuck his lip out, a mutinous glare in his eyes. I hated being the bad guy, but that didn’t change the fact that there was no way I’d ever let my son ride a bike.

  Chapter Eleven

  Drew

  What a difference a few days and a weekend can make. The week before, my nights and days were haunted by the vision of a gray-eyed woman who threatened to drive me crazy. In this new week, I felt rested, ready, and actually great. And that was with only a few hours of extra riding on Saturday.

  I was feeling better about everything by the time Tuesday rolled around. It was a little past lunch, and I was sitting in my office reviewing some part supply information on my computer.

  It wasn’t anything important, but I’d not been heading out of my office much because I’d fallen behind in a lot of my work the last week because of the way my mind kept drifting to Cat. Now that I’d regained some control, I had to catch up.

  The trick to my new control was that I’d had a long time over the weekend to think about what she had told me about her husband dying in a motorcycle accident. Even though I spent time both Saturday and Sunday at the office, the models and photographers didn’t come in on the weekend, so I didn’t get distracted.

  Now that I knew the truth, it made everything clear about Cat’s reactions to me, my bikes, and my company. The more I considered it, the less I worried about her.

  Her hate for something I loved so much still rubbed me the wrong way, but I couldn’t really blame her for the way she felt, and I couldn’t hold it against her. It wasn’t fair, and I think I’d only been irritated before because I’d been lusting after her rather than considering how she might be feeling.

  I got it now. I’d been thinking she was into me, but the truth was she felt awkward around me. It probably hurt to even see me.

  See, I was a biker who owned a motorcycle company. I must have reminded her of everything she had lost, and here I was, thinking that she wanted me as badly as I wanted her. That’s what I got for thinking with my cock instead of my head. I’d been an asshole, even if I’d not meant to be.

  She’d lost an important person, and it’d left her a single mom, which must be a daunting responsibility. Every morning she got up and had to work twice as hard for her son. If he looked like her husband at all, Jack was both a source of joy and a constant reminder of her loss.

  I still half-wondered in the back of my mind if she wanted me at all, but in the end, it didn’t really matter. What was more important was how it affected things between us. The big problem was that I’d had trouble keeping my distance and that was affecting my ability to run my company, but now that I knew the truth, it had all but solved the problem for me.

  The news helped dampen my lust and kill my weird obsession with Cat. It’s not like I didn’t find her sexy as hell, but now I could go five minutes without thinking about her, and I’d stopped having dreams about her, which meant I was getting a decent night’s sleep again.

  When I was working on emails, I wasn’t tempted to run down to the assembly floor to see her, and more importantly, I was in my office because I needed to do work and not because I couldn’t trust myself to be around her.

  Now, with all these changes, I was pretty confident that everything wouldn’t end in a disaster if I ended up seeing her in a sexy pose or something. There weren’t that many days left in the campaign either, so for the first time since seeing her during the audition, I actually was feeling good about the whole damn thing.

  I chuckled to myself and shook my head. Talk about not having real problems to worry about.

  I stood up, dusting off my hands on my pants. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to go downstairs and check out the photo shoot. I’d been holed up for too damn long at my desk anyway. I headed out of my office and to the elevator after giving a quick nod to several people on my way through the office floor.

  I whistled a happy tune as I rode the elevator down then strode with purpose toward the assembly floor and the photo shoot. I’d been cured of my addiction to Cat, so it didn’t matter what I saw. I would have even taken a bet that I could have seen her naked and it wouldn’t have fazed me.

  Oh, how wrong I was. How completely and utterly wrong.

  “Lean back, darling,” Simon said. “Arch your back. It helps your breasts pop out more. Yes, yes. Perfect. Move your hand to your hip. Yes, exactly like that. You are fucking Aphrodite, Cat.”

  My mouth went dry, and my cock strained against my pants as I stared at Cat on the bike. It was what she was wearing that was the problem, or not wearing. It’s a good thing I wasn’t betting anyone. She wasn’t naked, but that didn’t matter. She was showing enough.

  Cat straddled one of our most expensive bikes, but she definitely wouldn’t go riding in the skimpy bikini she wore. The outfit finally let me have a good look at her nice tits and firm ass. She wasn’t spilling out of her top or anything, but it looked like she had a nice handful. Just the right size.

  Suppressing a groan, I stumbled over to a wall to brace myself. It wasn’t fair. I was supposed to be cured of my addiction, but now I felt like ordering everyone out of the room and throwing myself at Cat.

  Briana and Jessica then stepped into the s
cene, one kneeling and the other leaning on the bike. They had great bodies too, and their bikinis let you see everything any red-blooded man wanted, but they might as well have been nuns in full habits as far as I was concerned. Instead, I was fixated only on Cat, my cock now a stone rod.

  I’d never wanted another woman as badly as I wanted her at that moment. Still, I crossed my arms and stayed behind the crowd, only barely resisting the urge to groan out loud at the sight.

  The smart thing to do would have been to turn and march back to my office instead of watching the woman of my dreams—literally—in a bikini, as she had to writhe, pout, and arch her back at the direction of the photographer, but I couldn’t tear myself away. I stood there, transfixed by the sexy woman, even after she stepped off the bike and Briana mounted it.

  Even when Cat was just lounging for a few seconds between shots, her whole look screamed sexy.

  I wasn’t sure how many minutes passed as the session continued. I wasn’t knocked back into reality until Simon clapped loudly.

  “Okay, let’s take a ten-minute break,” he said. “Then we’ll get back to it. Doing well today, girls. Doing really well today.”

  An assistant handed a towel to each model. Briana and Jessica hurried off, but Cat remained there, wiping some sweat off her body.

  I followed the movement of her hands, gritting my teeth. My cock twitched as she wiped in between her breasts, and I thought of how badly I wanted to bury my head there. I wanted to pull off that top and suck a nipple while I played with another.

  If I hadn’t been surrounded by so many of my employees, I was sure I would have let out the groan to end all groans.

  Cat moved over to a table and picked up her phone. She looked at it, and her eyes widened. She just stared at it, paling.

  I frowned and pushed my way through the crowd. Once the guys saw who it was, they parted like I was Moses and they were the Red Sea. I moved to Cat’s side, all my lust gone and now replaced by concern.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked.

  “It was a message from my mother,” Cat said, her voice barely above a whisper. “A voicemail. Actually, several calls and messages. I had my phone off because of the shoot. I had to—you know, to be professional.”

  “Okay,” I said, slowly. She looked on the verge of tears. “Is everything all right?” Even as I said it, I could tell that something was very, very wrong.

  “No,” she said, furiously shaking her head. “My son—Jack. He started vomiting all over and had all this pain. The daycare couldn’t get a hold of me, so they called her. He’s in the hospital.” She took several deep, shuddering breaths. “I—I need to get there. He’s having emergency surgery for his appendix.”

  I nodded. It was time to throw a little CEO power around and help this poor, suffering woman out.

  “Simon,” I shouted.

  Daniella and Simon both hurried over, both with surprised looks on their faces. I could understand, given how much I’d been hiding away, and now I was barking orders.

  “Cat’s kid is in the hospital having emergency surgery,” I said. “She’s done for the day. Understood?” I shot a serious glance at the photographer. I wanted it very clear that as the guy paying the bills, her leaving was okay with me.

  Simon nodded quickly. “Yes, of course.” He snapped his fingers at one of his assistants. “Help with her clothes. She needs to get out of here ASAP.”

  “I—should call an Uber,” Cat said.

  “But don’t you drive each day?” Daniella asked. “Why wait for an Uber?”

  Cat lifted her hands. She was shaking like a leaf in the wind. “I’ll crash on the way there.”

  My sister winced. “Let me drive you.”

  “No,” I said. Both women turned to look at me.

  “Okay, fine, then,” Daniella said. “I’ll get someone else to drive her, but you can’t insist she drive herself. Drew, you—”

  I held up my hand to silence her. “I’ll drive her.”

  Daniella blinked but didn’t say anything in response.

  Tears welled up in Cat’s eyes. “No, I can’t ride on a bike. Not t-today.”

  “I know,” I said. I shook my head. “We’ll take your car.” I looked at Daniella. “I need you here to keep the rest of the photo shoot on track.”

  She nodded.

  I returned my attention to Cat. “Go get dressed, and I’ll meet you in the parking lot. Then we’ll get you to the hospital.”

  Without another word, I pivoted and headed for the hallway. Daniella jogged to catch up with me.

  “Are you sure?” she said.

  “About?”

  “Driving her? I really can get someone else to do it.”

  I waved a hand. “I wasn’t doing anything all that important.”

  Daniella smiled softly. “Okay, I’ll hold down the fort here.” She headed back toward Simon and his assistants.

  I sent a quick text to my secretary to let her know I’d be out and didn’t want to be bothered before heading to the lobby and then the parking lot.

  A couple minutes passed before Cat came running out, now in jeans and a t-shirt and carrying her purse. She hurried toward me, and with shaking hands fished her keys out and pointed to her blue minivan. I placed my hand over hers, gave it a squeeze, and then took the keys.

  She might be a scorching hot bikini-model, but the truth was, she was a mom, and everything about her from her reaction to the news about her son to her choice of car reflected that.

  Thirty seconds later, we were in the vehicle and peeling out of the parking lot.

  Chapter Twelve

  Catherine

  I guess I shouldn’t have been surprised that a biker would be so fearless on the road, even when driving a used minivan. He was going over the speed limit, but only five miles an hour: just enough that no cops would pull him over. We passed at least a couple who could have.

  Drew also obviously knew the city well, as once I gave him the address, he didn’t have to ask for or look up any directions. He even knew a few short-cuts, and we got there as fast as we could manage without a siren and people getting out of our way.

  He pulled up to the entrance. “I’ll park and catch up with you.”

  I opened the door, nodded, and then hopped out of the car. I ran into the ER reception area and up to the desk, my heart thundering and palms sweaty.

  “Can I help you, ma’am?” the receptionist asked, looking me up and down.

  “My son, Jack Villiane,” I said. “He was admitted a few hours ago. He’s getting surgery for appendicitis.”

  As I said the words, guilt all but smothered me. My little boy was in surgery, and I should have been here, not sitting on a bike making a pouty face. I teared up.

  The receptionist pulled a few tissues from a box and handed them to me, though she looked more annoyed than sympathetic. “Can you show me some ID?”

  “ID?” I said, blinking away a few tears.

  “I need to verify you’re the mother.”

  “But—”

  “It’s the law, ma’am. HIPAA laws. Federal privacy laws.”

  I sighed and fished my driver’s license out of my purse and showed it to her.

  The receptionist looked it over and nodded. She tapped a few keys on her computer. “He’s out of surgery, now, and in Room 204A.”

  “Thank you,” I said with more kindness than I felt. I tried not to be angry, but I didn’t like having to jump through bureaucratic hoops when all I wanted was to get to my son.

  I hurried down the hallway and didn’t bother to wait for an elevator, instead rushing up the stairs. It’s a good thing I was in a hospital since I was going so fast; there was good chance I might have fallen and broken an arm, leg, or even my neck.

  Once I hit the second floor, I flung open the door. The empty hallway made it easy to rush down the hallway until I found Room 204A.

  I took several deep breaths and rested my hand on the doorknob. My heart still raced, and I had no
idea what I’d find on the other side. My son had already been through surgery, but that was no guarantee he was in good condition. He might be able to leave tomorrow, or he might need to stay in the hospital for weeks.

  It didn’t matter. I needed to be with my son and give him strength in the way only a mother could.

  I opened the door, my hand trembling and stepped inside. Jack lay in the bed, pale, and asleep.

  Relief washed through me. Since he was asleep, he wouldn’t have to see his panicky and crying mother. The little boy worried about me far too much, which meant I showed him my feelings too much, which was just another way I was failing him as a mother.

  My mom sat in a chair beside his bed, a clipboard and pen in hand, and a deep frown on her face. Some papers were attached to the clipboard. She looked over at me as I stepped deeper into the room.

  “How is he?” I said quietly. My pulse thundered in my ears, and I wiped away some tears. “Is he okay? Are they going to need to do any more surgery?”

  Mom put down the clipboard and walked over to pull me into a tight hug, patting me on the back, then stepping back to wipe away a few more of my tears.

  “It’s going to be all right, Cat,” she said. “The operation went well. Very well. It was actually seemed really quick, much faster than they did for this sort of thing back when I was young.” She managed a smile. “They said he should be fine to return home, probably tomorrow, but he’ll need to stay at home for a bit during his recovery.”

  “It’s fine. I can be with him.”

  “What took you so long?” Her tone was soft, but a hint of accusation still lay not so hidden. “I called you so many times. Was your phone out of power?”

  “No, I’m sorry,” I said, softly. “My phone was off for the shoot. We can’t be interrupted.”

  “Cat, you can’t do that. Not when you’re a mother.”

  The guilt burned hot inside me like my own personal guilt star. “I—know.”

  It’s not like I had a real excuse. Yes, he’d been at daycare, and yes, they’d had Mom as a backup number, but he was still my son, and it shouldn’t have been so damn hard to get a hold of me. I was never turning my phone off again.