The Billionaire's Need: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (The Billionaire's Deal Series Book 3)

by Kaswell, Crystal

  I take a step towards my desk. My heels are not helping my back feel better. I'm not supposed to wear heels, but I get tired of not being allowed to do things.

  I grab my coat and go straight to the elevator.

  Its doors open with a ding.

  "Lizzy, wait." Nick takes a step towards me.

  Not happening. I get into the elevator and press the 'close' button. Mercifully, the doors slide together just in time.

  I grab onto the railing, leaning into the wall to rest my back. It's getting worse by the second.

  Ten blocks to my apartment. They're city blocks. Short.

  A deep breath does nothing to dampen the pain. It's already bad. It's going to be a full-blown spasm soon. I brace myself for a miserable night.

  The elevator dings at the lobby. Every step on the tile floor is hard. The concrete is worse. I only make it one block before I'm resting against the side of a building.

  Nine more blocks. I can manage that.

  Once the chill sinks through my coat, I push myself off the wall.

  Every step hurts more than the last. The knot clenches until it hurts so badly I can't breathe. I know I've been careless, but did my back really have to pick today to give up?

  I slink to the ground and pull my knees into my chest. The stretch helps, but not enough. Tears sting my eyes. It hurts. Everything hurts.

  There are footsteps. No doubt someone thinks I'm passed out from too many drinks. This is a nice neighborhood but it's still New York City. It's not safe being so defenseless.

  I go to look up at the footsteps but my neck tugs. It hurts too much.

  "Lizzy."

  Nick.

  He kneels next to me, no doubt dragging his several-thousand-dollar suit through a puddle. His fingertips skim my chin. "Your back?"

  "Yes."

  "Do you keep muscle relaxants with you?"

  "No. And I don't have any at home. Just a heating pad and a bottle of ibuprofen."

  "I'm going to take you back to my apartment." He peels my hands from my knees and slides one arm under my legs. "I can carry you the twenty blocks, but it will take a while."

  Fuck.

  "There's a cab waiting." He slides his other arm around my back, pulling my body into his, cradling me against him. "Is that okay?"

  I bite my lip, trying to argue myself out of my fear. I managed Saturday but only barely.

  I cling to Nick, digging my nails into the fabric of his suit. I can smell that same cologne. I can feel all the warmth of his body.

  There's no way I can survive twenty blocks cradled in his arms. My heart will explode.

  I exhale slowly. "It's okay."

  Nick carries me ten or fifteen feet. He's careful about setting me back on the ground. My feet make contact, but I'm not really standing upright. I'm pressed against him. The cab is parked on the street, two feet away. Same yellow color as always. Same white sign on its roof. I reach for the car door and pull it open with a weak grip.

  It's only five minutes. It can't be that bad.

  The lie to myself only makes my backache worse. It's like my muscles know they're confronting the source of their pain. I lean down just enough to slide into the car. Nick sits next to me, reaching over me to buckle my seatbelt. He holds me against his chest, running his fingertips over the back of my neck.

  "It's going to be okay," he whispers.

  I don't do anything but breathe. Even that is hard. Every inhale strains against my tight muscles.

  My eyelids press together. I pretend as if I'm anywhere else. At some point I should get a handle on my fear, but not today.

  Nick gives his address to the cabbie. He holds me close, stroking my skin with that same gentle touch. "I'm sorry about Shepard. He has this idea that Jasmine left him for me."

  "Did she?"

  "No. She left because he wouldn't stop drinking. She's a lovely woman, but I have no interest in her." Nick presses his fingers against my neck like he's taking my pulse. "There are lots of reasons why he could want to hurt me. Or it could be he needs the money for some other project. I have no idea what his intentions are."

  His body tenses. That must mean that my pulse is totally erratic. It certainly feels like my heart is beating hard enough to jump out of my chest.

  "Lizzy." His tone changes, more like everything is okay. "When is your sister getting married?"

  An easy thing to talk about. Perfect. "April. At the Brooklyn Botanicals Gardens. She has a thing for cherry blossom trees. I guess it's a family obsession. Our parents always loved them. We went to DC every year until—" Until that car crash took away everything.

  It's not easy to talk anymore.

  It's not easy to breathe.

  Nick's voice stays calm. "Does she know about your tattoo?"

  "No, she'd die. I went with my friend, Sarah. The one with the hot pink dress."

  "What happens if you go to the beach?"

  "Don't you keep up the styles, Nick? Retro is in. I wear a halter one piece or a longline that covers it."

  "I'd like to see that." He runs his fingers over my neck. "Though I'd prefer to take it off."

  My cheeks flush. It's a very effective distraction. I barely notice when the cabbie slams on the breaks again.

  There's another car about three inches in front of us but it's a normal red light.

  "Are you in the wedding party?" Nick holds me close.

  "Maid of honor. I am the only bridesmaid, but I'm sure I'd be maid of honor even if there was any competition. She's not exactly a social butterfly. She mostly stays home to draw or read."

  "What does she read?"

  "Stuff about angst and feelings. I tried to get her into shonen manga, but says she doesn't care about things aimed at fourteen year old boys. The one time we read one together, she pointed out all the anatomical mistakes."

  "You love her a lot."

  "Of course. She's my best friend. I'd do anything for her." I take a deep breath. It's not quite as difficult. "Why does your brother hate you so much?"

  "We'll talk about it later." He runs his hands through my hair. "I want to know what makes you happy."

  "I like to get lost in the city. There's so much possibility here. You go one mile and everything is different."

  "What else?"

  "I like to move." I let out a very painful laugh. "Not at the moment, but usually."

  I keep my eyes closed, my head buried against his chest. Despite my throbbing back, I'm managing to breathe okay.

  Not great but okay.

  The quiet brings my mind back to that awful morning. The brakes skidding, the screech of the metal, that moment when everything went white.

  "What would you do if you weren't studying computer science?" he asks.

  "I didn't love working retail, but I like fashion, the way clothes can transform someone from a femme fatale to an innocent librarian. What about you?"

  "There's nothing else I want to do."

  "Except swimming and poker and mysteries."

  "Yes."

  "Law and Order?"

  "Yes." His voice is shy. "Though it's not my favorite."

  "Can you believe I've lived in New York for my whole life and never stumbled on a dead body? I need to work on my snappy banter."

  He laughs. "You really are charming, Lizzy."

  "What if I had found a dead body? Would that be more charming?"

  He let's out a sigh of pleasure. I blink my eyes open, very much aware that I'm in a horrible automobile. It feels like the city is whirring by us even though we're only going thirty miles an hour.

  "I would like to teach you to drive," he says. "One day. When you're ready."

  No way in hell. My pulse picks up. I'm not sure if he's testing me or if he's earnest and I don't care. I only want to think about something else. I dig my hands into the soft fabric of Nick's suit jacket. At this point, it's familiar. There's something so calming about that.

  The car slows. I blink my eyes open. Almost there. I sit
up as straight as my back will allow. Turns out that's curled like a question mark.

  We stop in front of Nick's building. He pays the cabbie and helps me out of the car. One arm goes around my waist, the other around my knees. He carries me into the building, then the elevator.

  I'm sure we're making a scene, but I can't bring myself to care. I hook one arm around his neck and hold on as tightly as I can.

  In his apartment, Nick lays me down on the couch.

  My mind flashes with the memory of the last time we were on this couch. Such a nice memory.

  "Stay here." He presses his lips to my forehead and goes to another room. A few minutes later, he returns with a pill and a glass of water. "A muscle relaxant. It will make you drowsy. You'll need to spend the night."

  "Okay." I swallow the pill and drink half the water.

  Nick sets the glass on the table. It's half empty. That's supposed to mean something, that I see the glass as half empty.

  "I'll put something on. The Matrix or The Terminator?" He smiles, teasing me.

  It really is a nice smile. I take a deep breath. I can't blame the car for the awful feeling in my stomach. "I just want to lie down. In your bed if that's okay."

  He nods. Again, he lifts me, carries me into the other room, and sets me on the bed. Nick sits next to me. He removes my shoes one at a time then slides my tights off my feet.

  His fingertips skim the waistband of my thong. "Do you sleep in that?"

  "No."

  Slowly, he pulls my underwear to my ankles. I manage to kick it off my feet as I roll over to my side.

  "I suppose it would be too much trouble to ask you to get the bra too?" I let out something half laugh half groan. Being on my side isn't helping matters. I close my eyes, willing the drugs to work faster.

  Nick rolls my dress off my shoulder. He drags his fingertips to my back to undo my bra. Like it's easy as pie, he gets the bra off one shoulder. I fall flat on my back, my dress halfway off, my breast exposed.

  He leans down and presses his lips to mine. There's heat in the kiss, but it's more tender than demanding. My body buzzes, desperate to latch onto a pleasant sensation. Before I get the chance, Nick releases me. He slides my dress off my other shoulder, then the bra, then the bra is on the floor. I lie still with my dress at my waist, my gaze on the ceiling.

  I try to relax as Nick pulls my sleeves back to my shoulders. There. My dress is back in its proper place, nothing under it.

  His hand lingers on my collarbone. "I'll let you rest."

  "Will you stay with me?" I bite my lip, cursing the neediness in my voice. It still hurts and he's being so comforting.

  "For a few minutes." He strips to his boxers and lies on the bed behind me.

  All that warmth returns to my body. Nick pulls a soft comforter over us. Then he takes me into his arms.

  I block out every conscious thought in my brain, especially the ones about how good his body feels next to mine.

  The drugs work their magic. One my one, my muscles soften. My jaw relaxes. My eyelids grow heavy. A few deep breaths and I fall asleep.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  It's two in the morning when I wake up. I'm still in Nick's bed with his arms around me. Without the magic of the muscle relaxants, my back is stiff. It's tolerable.

  Nick stirs. He slides his arm around my waist and pulls me closer. Warmth spreads through my body, tensing and relaxing me at once. I take a deep breath. I'm in Nick's bed, in his arms. This is dangerous territory.

  "How are you feeling?" he asks.

  Overwhelmed. "A little tense."

  "I can run a bath." He drags his hand down my stomach. "Or I can release some of that tension."

  I play dumb. "What do you mean?"

  He shifts, bringing his other hand above my head. "You can't pull off coy."

  "I'm not sure what you're referring to."

  Nick slides his hand over my thigh and just under the hem of my dress. His fingertips slide between my legs to stroke my clit. "God dammit, Lizzy. You're going to kill me."

  "I think you have that backwards."

  His fingers skim my sex. "Your body is so responsive."

  "Only because it's you."

  He shifts, pressing his crotch against my ass so I can feel his erection. "I'm not going to tie you up tonight."

  I pout. How is it possible I'm already craving releasing control?

  "What feels better—arms above your head or at your sides?"

  That sounds a lot better. I pull them over my head, shifting until I'm comfortable. It stretches my chest muscles, but it's in a pleasant way. "This."

  "Tell me if your back hurts."

  "Not if it means you'll stop."

  "I'll make sure you finish." He pulls his hand away from my sex. "Do you want to come?"

  "Yes."

  "Then promise you'll tell me if your back hurts."

  "I promise."

  With one hand, Nick holds my wrists against the pillow. The other strokes my inner thighs. Up, up, up. His touch is light as he drags his fingertips over my sex. It feels like he's teasing for minutes. I stop breathing, and all my muscles clench. I need his hands on me.

  I arch my back to break up the tension in my muscles. It's enough to relax them. Nick's touch is so light. It's driving me out of my mind. I close my eyes, soaking in the sensation. I'm not tied up, but I'm still at his mercy.

  He rubs my clit. The shock of the pressure sends pangs to my sex. I don't think. I don't resist. I breathe, and I feel.

  My orgasm builds quickly. I arch my body into his, pressing my ass against his cock. His boxers are in the way, but they do little to contain him. I want that hardness against me, inside me, mine.

  Not yet.

  I focus on the bliss building inside me. A few more strokes, and I'm about to go into freefall. I climb higher and higher. Then I'm soaring.

  "Nick," I moan. "God, Nick."

  Pleasure rushes through me. It starts at my core and works it's way up my stomach and down my legs. The stiffness in my back and neck relaxes. My legs and arms are jello, his to move or not.

  He presses his lips to my neck, holding me close for a moment. Then he shifts, pulling something from the dresser drawer. A condom. Lust returns to my body with great force. I'm greedy, I know, but I can't help it. He's fucking irresistible.

  "Nick." I reach back and run my hands over his well-defined stomach. "I want to touch you."

  "Not tonight."

  "Soon?"

  "Yes. I promise." He unwraps the condom and slides it on. "Put your hands back over your head."

  His cock strains against my sex. The tease is horrible and wonderful at the same time. I'm aching for him inside me. I groan, my arms shaking.

  His fingers dig into my hips. "Tell me what you want."

  "I want you inside me. So deep inside me I can't breathe."

  "Close your eyes."

  I do.

  He holds my body against his. "I want you to feel this. Every second. No rushing to get to the next part."

  Nick slides inside me slowly. Just a hint and he pulls out. He does it again. Again. He teases me until I'm panting so bard I forget to breathe.

  Again.

  I resist my impulse to rock my hips into him. Every second is agony and ecstasy at the same time. I focus on the ecstasy, the pleasure spreading through my thighs, the tension collecting in my core.

  Again.

  My sex clenches. I bite my lip, shifting my arms to keep my hips steady. Almost. Almost.

  There. He shifts inside me. All the way. No more teasing. My body relaxes. I let out a low sigh.

  Nick's groan reverberates against my neck. He keeps his movements slow as he thrusts into me. Every impulse begs me to push him deeper. Instead, I melt into him.

  The ache inside me builds slowly. Every time he thrusts into me, every time he groans, I'm closer. I can feel his pleasure in the shaking of his chest, the way his fingers dig into my skin. I turn my head to press my neck agai
nst his mouth. He sucks hard.

  My impatience melts away. The build up is too good to rush. I never want it to end. Everything in my world is beautiful—the string lights on the walls, the soft purple sheets, the feeling of his hands on my skin.

  It can't be much more than a few minutes, but it's so intense it feels like hours. His lips stay on my skin. His motions stay controlled. All the pressure in my sex builds until I'm at the edge again. This time, I'm not rushing into free fall. I'm soaking in every second of bliss.

  His next thrust sends me over the edge. My eyelids squeeze together. My hips shake of their own accord, desperate to feel him a little deeper. He groans like he's just as desperate.

  This orgasm is more intense. I scream. "Nick, Nick, Nick." My breath is ragged as I come down. My thoughts are incoherent.

  "Come here." He shifts our positions so he's on top of me. His hand stays around my wrists as he thrusts into me.

  Faster. Harder. Deeper. My sex pulses from the wealth of sensation. His groans fill me with a different kind of need. It's as good as my orgasm. Better even. I soak in every bit of his pleasure as he comes. His lips part, and they go to my neck. His kiss is soft. Tender.

  "Nick." I arch my hips to feel the pulsing of his orgasm.

  One last thrust and he's finished. He collapses next to me. His lips go to my forehead. It occurs to me that we haven't kissed. Morning breath. Well, middle of the night breath.

  Nick discards the condom and returns to the bed. He plops next to me and runs his fingertips along the neckline of my dress. "Join me in the shower."

  My nod fails to express my enthusiasm. I take his hand and follow him into the bathroom. I didn't notice the room last time I was here. It's huge with a glass shower the size of my apartment.

  "How many people fit in here?" I pull my dress over my head and leave it on the floor.

  Nick looks at the mess with faux outrage. "I've only tried myself."

  "Really?"

  "I don't bring women home."

  "Where do you bring them?"

  "I used to keep a place."

  "You kept an apartment just for sex?"

  He nods. His fingers skim my cheek. "I didn't want to invite anyone into my home."

  "But you invited me?"

  "Yes."

  "Why?"