Billionaire's Fake Fiancé (An Alpha Billionaire Romance Love Story) (Billionaires - Book #10)

by Claire Adams

  “So, your mother killed your brother and now you’re going to exact revenge,” he said as he settled down next to me, resting one arm across the back of the couch in a way that made it impossible to ignore his broad, muscled chest. “Sounds very Shakespearean.”

  “It’s not that dramatic,” I said, realizing that to anyone outside the family, this would sound utterly unreasonable. “My mother took my brother with her to Soldier Field the night after the Bears NFC Championship win. She wasn’t paying attention when she made the turn off of Lower Wacker Drive and didn’t see a pickup truck come barreling through the light.”

  “That doesn’t sound like it’s all her fault,” he said skeptically.

  “She’d forgotten that my brother was in the back seat and hadn’t put a seat belt on him,” I said without emotion. “The force of the collision threw him through the side window and he landed on his head on the pavement.”

  “Oh man,” Dax muttered as he took a big gulp from his glass. “That doesn’t prove she killed him, though. You know that, right? I mean, accidents happen.”

  “Dax, my mother was a terrible driver, and as a result, my grandfather had arranged for her to always have a driver,” I said. “She had told the driver to go home that night, and then she decided she’d go see my grandfather at the stadium, so she took my father’s keys and his car. I didn’t know my brother had gone with her until my father told me that he and my mother had been taken to the hospital.”

  “Still, it sounds like an accident to me,” he said. I recognized the tone. I’d heard it many times throughout my life. It was the voice of someone who was trying to reason with me to try and let my mother off the hook, and when I heard that tone in Dax’s voice, I shut down.

  “I guess,” I shrugged, turning my attention to my whiskey glass. I dumped the remaining half inch into my mouth and swallowed hard. The amber liquid burned a path of fire down my throat and quickly spread from my stomach to the rest of my body, leaving me feeling warm and relaxed. I held out my glass, “More, please.”

  “Are you—” Dax began.

  “More please,” I said in a steely voice. He took my glass and got up to pour me another.

  When he returned, he held the glass just out of reach, searching my face for something I knew wasn’t there. He sighed, and then leaned forward, placing the glass in my hand. I nodded and raised the cut crystal tumbler to my lips and drank half of what he’d poured in it.

  “Payton, I’m not sure getting drunk is the answer,” he warned.

  “Don’t be a buzz-kill, Connor,” I said, looking into the bottom of my glass for answers that were never there.

  “Then tell me what you want,” he said sitting down next to me with his arm around the back of my side of the couch.

  “Honestly?” I asked hopefully.

  “No, lie. You know how much I love that,” he said, impatiently drumming his fingers on the couch.

  “The truth is…” I began as I looked over at him and thought about how what I wanted most was so very far out of my reach. I held his gaze as I tipped the glass up and drank the last of the whiskey before leaning forward and letting the glass roll off my fingertips onto the thick carpet. Dax watched as the glass hit the floor and then looked back at me.

  “The truth is what, lady?” he murmured as I rose up onto my knees and slowly untied the knot holding the robe together. Our eyes were locked as I pulled the robe open and exposed the fact that I’d taken off the bikini in the bathroom. Without breaking my gaze, Dax set his glass on the coffee table and leaned forward to lightly run his fingers down the length of my naked body before grabbing my waist and pulling me toward him. I lost my balance and fell forward, pushing him onto his back.

  “The truth is…I need this,” I whispered softly into his lips before I kissed him hard and deep. Underneath me, I could feel him already responding as I gripped his shoulders and slowly gyrated my hips. He groaned as I pushed myself up into a sitting position as I straddled his hips. As I slid the robe off of my shoulders and down my arms, his fingers pinched my nipples, drawing a long, low moan from deep inside me.

  I bent forward and pushing against his chest, I slid myself far enough down his body so that I could unzip his pants, freeing him from the confines of his clothing before I pulled myself back up and began grinding against him, feeling his hardness rubbing against my most sensitive spots.

  “Jesus Christ, lady,” Dax groaned as I coated his shaft with my wetness as kissed and teased his lips.

  “Mmmm, you feel incredible,” I whispered into his lips as I reached down and began to rub the tip of his shaft against my aching opening. I pushed down a little, sliding only the tip inside me and then gyrated my hips before pulling him out again. Dax’s groans took on a new urgency as I teased myself, and him.

  “You like it?” I asked as I slid him just inside my tight, wet opening. He swallowed hard and nodded as I smiled, bent over, and kissed his lips, and then in one swift movement, slammed him all the way inside me.

  “Oh fuck!” he cried as I began a slow, steady rhythm, moving my body up and down just the way I liked it. Dax let go of my breasts and grabbed a hold of my hips as I increased the tempo. Soon he was thrusting his hips up to meet me as I moved my body faster and faster, chasing the sensation I’d been dreaming of since the first night he touched me.

  “Right there, right there!” I cried as he found my sweet spot and rubbed against it over and over. I moaned as I felt myself hanging on the edge of climax, and then in an instant, I felt it all come crashing down as the waves of my orgasm washed over me and took me far, far away. Dax wasn’t far behind, and as I continued moving my hips as I pulsed around his throbbing shaft, I felt him release and join me out on the sea of our shared pleasure.

  I collapsed on top of him, panting and feeling like my heart would beat out of my chest. Dax wrapped his arms around me and slowly stroked my back. Neither one of us said a word. We lay there for a long time, listening to each other breathe and feeling the warmth passing between our skin. I felt him slip out as we both basked in the glow of our first mutually satisfying sexual encounter.

  “You okay?” Dax croaked, then cleared his throat and asked again, “You okay?”

  “Oh, I’m good,” I whispered, running my fingers up his sides and realizing that he was still wearing his shirt. “You okay?”

  “Mmm hmm,” he nodded. I tipped my head to look at his face at the exact moment he opened his eyes. “Never been better.”

  I smiled as I lay my head back on his chest and basked in the warmth of his strong, warm body, and told myself that we had just begun.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Dax

  The next morning, I woke up with the sun streaming through the window and Payton curled up asleep next to me. Not wanting to wake her up, I lay in bed, watching her sleep as I thought about what this turn of events meant for us. I knew that I was walking a dangerous line between business and pleasure, and that Finn was going to be pissed at me. I wasn’t supposed to fall for Payton, and since admitting I had started to have feelings for her, even to myself, was difficult, I quickly shifted my thoughts back to the training camp and Nick’s objection to having Payton attend practices.

  I was angry with Nick for thinking he had that kind of power to dictate what I could and couldn’t do, and, as a result, was tempted to bring Payton back and put her on the sidelines for the rest of the camp just to show him who was in charge. But the businessman in me knew that making a scene over Nick’s objections would only ultimately hurt the team. I knew what I should do, but my pride told me that to walk away would send the wrong signal.

  I sighed and shifted my position as I wished, for the hundredth time that week, that Pop was still alive so I could talk to him. He’d always listened to me carefully and then summed up his perspective in a few words. Pop’s advice had always helped me identify the problem and the solution, but he’d never once told me what to do.

  Payton stirred in her sleep, mo
ving away from me toward the other side of the bed. Her blonde hair spilled across her pretty face, and I was tempted to reach out and brush it away, but I didn’t want to wake her. I thought about what she’d told me about her mother and her family, and wondered what the rest of the story was. What she’d told me about her mother’s accident didn’t sound anywhere near murder to me, but then I knew better than anyone how the young mind creates stories in the absence of cold, hard facts. I didn’t want to downplay Payton’s pain, but it sounded like a family problem that had escalated over years of failed communication.

  “Armchair shrink,” I chortled as I slid out from under the sheet, walked out into the living room, and pulled on the robe that Payton had discarded the night before. I called down to the kitchen and ordered a full breakfast be sent up for both of us before grabbing the paper that had been left out in the hall. I opened it up and swore loudly as I read the front-page headline.

  Moments later, Payton came rushing out of the bedroom wrapped in the top sheet off the bed. Her eyes were still adjusting to the light as she pushed her wild hair out of her eyes.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “Son of a bitch!” I yelled as I slapped the paper down on the table and pointed at the headline. “I’m going to fire that bastard for talking to the press!”

  Payton picked up the paper and read aloud, “Storm head coach objects to Halas presence at training camp.” She set it down and shrugged, “Why get worked up about it?”

  “That asshole works for me!” I shouted. “He doesn’t get to object to what I choose to do!”

  “Apparently, he does,” Payton replied matter-of-factly.

  “Are you on his side?”

  “No, I’m just saying that it doesn’t seem like much of a thing to get worked up over,” she replied.

  “Says the woman I found weeping at the foot of the bed yesterday,” I shot back.

  “Low blow, Connor,” she said, shooting me a dark look before turning away.

  “Sorry, I didn’t mean…”

  “Yes, you did,” she interjected. “But I’ll forgive you because you’re not very good at dealing with your feelings.”

  “What the—” I objected.

  “Listen, if you go out there and make a big scene about this, you’re going to play right into his hands,” she said as she adjusted the sheet and wrapped it around her body toga style. “Why not just let him have this one?”

  “Like Pop always said: Give ‘em an inch and they’ll take a mile,” I said. “I have to fight for every inch of what I own, I can’t let this go or the team will lose respect for me.”

  “Really?” she asked raising an eyebrow. “Is that what will really happen or just what you think will happen?”

  “Lady, I know you’ve been around football for a long time, but the reality is that you don’t know much about actually running a team,” I said. Payton’s face turned to stone as she listened, and then she turned and walked back into the bedroom without saying another word.

  I started to follow her, but there was a knock at the door. I opened it and found our breakfast cart waiting on the other side, and by the time I’d had the room server set everything up and signed the check, I turned to find Payton standing in the bedroom door dressed and pulling her suitcase behind her.

  “Where are you going?” I asked gesturing to the table and all the food. “I ordered us breakfast!”

  “Yeah,” she nodded surveying the table with an unimpressed sweep of her eyes. “Your mansplaining pretty much killed my appetite, but you enjoy.”

  “What in the hell?” I shouted as she gathered her bags and headed for the door. “You are impossible, lady!”

  “Right back at you, big guy,” she said as she pulled the door open and then slammed it shut behind her without another word.

  Chapter Thirty

  Payton

  Down in the lobby, I asked the concierge to call a cab and asked him to tell the driver I was headed back to the city. Once I was tucked into the taxi, I dialed Val and hoped that she wasn’t out at some wedding party or on a shopping trip.

  “Hey, PG, what’s happening?” Val’s playful tone made me tear up as I thought about how much I missed her.

  “Not much; what’s up with you?” I asked, trying to mask my feelings by matching her tone.

  “Oh girl, don’t bullshit me, something’s going on,” she said in a sassy voice usually reserved for bartenders and pushy, wannabe suitors. “Spill it, PG.”

  “Val, this is all headed for disaster,” I said morosely.

  “What did Joanna do now?” she asked knowing me all too well.

  “She’s said she’d disinherit me, if I didn’t stop seeing Dax,” I said, summarizing my mother’s phone call as succinctly as possible. I was angry at my mother’s response, but I had been hurt by Dax’s dismissive comment about my understanding of how to run a football team, and I didn’t know how to explain this to Val.

  “Okay, but Joanna is a bitch, and we’ve known that for a long time,” Val said. “What’s really bothering you, Payton.”

  “Oh, so it’s Payton now, is it?” I countered, trying to keep the discussion about Dax and me at bay. “I’m just mad that my mother told me to do one thing and then when I did it, she got pissed that I did.”

  “C’mon, PG, you know you went looking for that one,” Val chided. “You wanted to bait your mother, so this faux outrage isn’t really holding water with me.”

  “Fine, whatever,” I said, feeling frustrated with Val, too. She was supposed to have my back! “If you want to side with her, then just do it.”

  “Oh my God, stop the dramatics, Payton,” Val said in a tone that made my heart sink. “I’m always on your side and you know that. I’m just saying that I think there’s something else going on, but if you won’t tell me, then I have to assume that you’re overreacting to Joanna’s brand of bitchiness.”

  “Val, I think I like him,” I blurted.

  “Like who? The blue-collar, football billionaire?” Val laughed. “I thought he was just a means to an end and the possibility of a job.”

  “He was—is,” I said, correcting myself quickly. “It’s just that there’s something about him that’s familiar, and he’s…”

  “He’s hot as hell,” Val finished. “Please tell me that you’re taking full advantage of the sex clause you put in that contract.”

  “I…yeah, well, I did,” I said, blushing on the other end of the phone. I’d talked about everything under the sun with Val, but I’d never had feelings like this about a guy and I’d never been in a situation quite like this with a guy I had feelings about. It felt weird talking to her about it.

  “And was it good?” she asked.

  “Uh huh,” I replied, uncertain how to tell her how I felt about it all.

  “Then what’s the problem?” Val asked. “It would seem to me that you’ve got a hot, rich dude at your beck and call. That seems pretty ideal to me.”

  “Oh, he’s not at my beck and call,” I said shuddering a bit as I thought about how Dax would react if he heard her say that about him. “He’s kind of bossy, and he’s definitely trying to show me he’s in charge. I mean, he’s said some things that made me really mad.”

  “Is that so?” Val said knowingly. “What exactly did he say that made you mad, PG?”

  “He told me I knew nothing about running a football team!” I shouted, feeling the anger and humiliation rising in my chest again. “He talked down to me, Val.”

  “But you don’t know anything about running a football team,” Val pointed out.

  “Not you, too,” I grumbled. “I know I don’t, but he didn’t need to treat me like a little girl. I know things that he doesn’t know, and it made me feel like…”

  “Like when you have to listen to Joanna boss you around,” Val finished. “PG, he’s not your mother. He’s a guy who’s trying to run a team that he’s paid a lot of money for. Have you stopped and thought about everything he’s u
p against?”

  “Don’t take his side!” I bellowed defensively. “You’re my best friend!”

  “I’m not taking any sides,” she said gently. “I’m telling you that there are times when your pride and ego work you into a corner, and that this might just be one of those times. So, back down and take a look at what’s really going on. Are you mad at him because he’s doing something wrong or are you mad at him because he’s the closest person for you to take your frustrations out on?”

  “Why do you always do this to me?” I asked.

  “Because I’m your best friend and I love you to the moon and back,” she said plainly. “Think about it, PG. This guy might actually be a good guy. You should brush that chip off your shoulder and give him a chance. Oh shit, I gotta run! I’m sorry, but Richard’s family is coming for dinner and I’ve got to talk to the stylist about my gown! I love you, PG!”

  “I love you, too, Val,” I said as the line went dead. I sat and thought about what she’d said and when I realized she might have a point, I slammed my fist against the leather seat and muttered, “Dammit.”

  “Are you okay, miss?” the driver asked glancing in the rearview mirror with a concerned look.

  “I’m fine,” I nodded. After a few seconds, I added, “Thank you for asking.”

  The driver nodded and turned his eyes back to the road.

  #

  I didn’t see Dax again until several days after the end of training camp. His breakfast insult about my lack of experience in running a football team had stung, and after having let him into my family drama, his criticism had felt even more pointed. However, Val’s advice continued to roll around in my brain as I tried to carefully consider how much of my anger and frustration was really about the situation with my mother.

  On Wednesday night, I heard Dax moving around in the living room and decided to go out and talk to him. I quickly ran a brush through my hair and dabbed on a little lipstick as I took stock of myself in the mirror. The previous day, I asked Dax’s secretary to track down all of the files on the creation of the Storm organization and every handbook and playbook she could find. I’d carted them back to the penthouse and had spent the day reading through all the files so that I’d have a concrete understanding of how the Storm organization was run. Now I was ready to engage in a conversation with Dax.