One Night With The Billionaire Too

by Cross, Cassie

  That stuns the man into shutting up. His only response is a curt nod of his head.

  “Good.”

  He notices Amber making her way towards them. Michael’s demeanor shifts quickly, from stunned silence to a welcoming smile. Amber walks behind Chase, then slides her hands across his shoulders and her arms around his neck. She leans in close and kisses his cheek. Chase is pretty sure he manages to hide his surprise.

  “Everything okay?” he asks. He turns his head slightly to look at her, and her lips have never been this close to his. If he moved a fraction of an inch, he’d be kissing her. He almost does it, save for the fact that he can’t let himself do it, and that he doesn’t want their first kiss—if they ever have one—to be in front of a man like Michael Pearson.

  Instead, he reaches for her hand and presses his lips against the back of it.

  “Everything’s perfect,” she replies, then fakes a pretty convincing yawn. “We’re going to retire for the evening if that’s okay with you, Michael.”

  Retire for the evening? He’s never heard her utter those words in that order. He’s going to tease her about that later.

  “Absolutely,” Pearson replies. “Have a good evening.”

  Chase is sitting on the loveseat in their room wearing a pair of cotton pants and a t-shirt. Amber is in the bathroom with the door open, doing something that involves a lot of bottles, if the clinking of the caps on the countertop is any indication.

  “I’m sorry,” she says, her voice amplified to make it across the room. “I shouldn’t have come up to you like that. It’s just that all of the ladies were talking about what a cute couple we are; they’re really convinced we’re a thing. They were talking about how great it was when they first got together with their husbands, so I wanted to go along with it, because putting up a fight would just make them think we’re hiding something we’re not hiding. Anyway, some of them are only a couple of years older than I am, but they were talking about it like it was ancient history. Is that how quickly the magic fades when you get married?”

  She exits the bathroom wearing a pair of really short sleep shorts and a tight tank top without a bra. The air is cool, so it’s a strain for Chase to keep his eyes off of her nipples. Getting an erection while she’s ranting about people she’s here to help him win over for a contract is something he’s guessing wouldn’t go over well. He does his best to listen to her while also mentally listing off a bunch of unsexy things to help him with his situation.

  It seems to be working, then he takes a look at her shorts, which are pink with melted ice cream cones on the print. Her ass looks amazing in them.

  Unsexy thoughts. Unsexy thoughts. Like hangovers, plane crashes, day long board meetings…

  “Given all the weddings I’ve been to for some of these people, it seems like the magic disappears pretty quickly and can only be found again in a woman who’s at least twenty years younger.”

  Amber snorts as she gathers her hair at the top of her head and twists it into some complicated bun-looking thing. The movement draws Chase’s eyes to her bouncing breasts.

  A totaled Ferrari, that time his brother sliced his hand open on a shard of glass and had to get twenty-five stitches…

  “I saw you talking to Michael…it looked like it was pretty tense,” she says as she walks back into the bathroom. He has a little internal debate with himself about whether or not he should tell her what Pearson said about them. Even though he doesn’t want to hurt her feelings, it’s probably best if she knows what she’s dealing with. Chase doubts Pearson would say anything, but it would be kind to prepare her for it just in case.

  “He told me he was surprised that I decided to shit where I eat.”

  She pops her head out of the bathroom door and stares at him before she starts rubbing a cotton pad against her left eye. “I’m sorry, did he refer to me as shit?”

  “I think he referred to us as shit, technically. The hypothetical us, at least.”

  “What a foul term for an office romance,” she muses.

  “It’s probably pretty apt in terms of describing the messiness of it.”

  Amber looks at the floor for a moment before she walks back into the bathroom. “Still, I don’t want to even be indirectly referred to as shit.”

  “Me neither.”

  She returns to the bedroom rubbing her other eye with a cotton pad. “Why is it that the people who run things are so awful? Need a home loan? Someone really high up the chain of the money giving is a raging asshole! The conglomerate that owns your favorite store probably also pays people pennies to manufacture their products. The guy who owns the company that keeps your online retail transactions secure? He refers to people in hypothetical relations as shit!” She takes a deep breath and pauses a moment.

  “You and Jason are the exceptions to this rule. You run things and are decidedly not awful.”

  He thinks her rant was cute, but he does appreciate not being included in it. “Thank you.”

  She finishes wiping at her eyes, and she looks back at him all fresh-faced and beautiful and so full of fire that it takes everything he has in him not to cross the room and kiss her breathless. He wants to peel off her tank top, take her nipple in his mouth, and make her wake up the whole house when she screams his name.

  Amber disappears into the bathroom again, and he listens to the steady rush of the running water. She returns with a bottle of lotion. She presses her hand on the pump a few times, and starts slathering it on her arms.

  “If being here with these people bothers you, we can leave.”

  She gives him a surprised look, then focuses on rubbing some lotion onto a spot on her elbow.

  “What brought this on?”

  Chase shrugs. “I don’t like the way he talked about you. About us.”

  “There is no us,” she whispers.

  He wants there to be an us in the way Pearson meant it, but there already is one, in a way. “That’s not true. We’ve been a team for five years now, and anyone who deals with me has to treat you with respect. He insulted you as a way to get to me. That’s not gonna fly, and I told him as much.”

  She sighs. “You shouldn’t have done that. Pissing him off isn’t going to help anything.”

  “When it comes to you? I don’t care if I piss him off.”

  “You should,” she argues. “You need him.”

  “No I don’t. We can find another way,” he says, even though, well…that’s mostly a lie.

  She calls him out on it. “We already tried to find another way, Chase. We either have to drop out of the market for now and waste all that research and development, or we have to find a way to make this partnership happen. I don’t care what he says about me.”

  “You don’t?”

  “Not really. Your opinion is the one that counts, not anyone else’s. And to be quite honest, anyone referring to dating me as shitting where they’re eating? I want to win that person over just for the challenge of it.”

  Chase laughs at her. “You’re remarkable.”

  She beams at him as she puts her lotion bottle on the nightstand. This whole evening has been intimate and domestic in a way that he’s never really wanted before, but now that he’s getting a glimpse of what life could be like with her, his desire for that kind of life is getting harder to ignore.

  Amber climbs into the bed.

  “Are you ready to retire for the evening?” Chase teases.

  Her brows furrow in the cutest confusion. “What?”

  “Downstairs you told Pearson we were going to retire for the evening. I’ve never heard you talk like that before.”

  She laughs. “Just trying to fit in with all you fancy pants snooty snoot richies. You know how you guys like to have drinks in the conservatory before adjourning to the terrace, and finally retiring for the evening. And just a fair warning, if you ever talk like that in my presence, I will retaliate.”

  He’s so amused by her. “Retaliate how?”

  “Pssh
. Why would I tell you that? Ruins the element of surprise.” She watches Chase as he stands and rearranges the pillows on his side of the bed. His side. He tries not to think about them having sides of the bed, and ignores the fact that she took the side opposite the one he usually sleeps on. “I just wanted to let you know that I stole the mint that the person who turned down the bed left on your pillow.”

  “I would expect nothing less.”

  “Is there anything I need to know?”

  “About what?” he asks. He’s pretty sure he’s filled her in on all the evening’s most important events.

  She motions to the bed. “Sleep risks. Are you a kicker? Am I going to wake up a thousand times tonight because of your snoring?”

  “Not a kicker, not sure if I’m a snorer. If I am, no one’s complained about it. What about you?” This playful banter is easing his nerves, making it easier to slide into bed next to her without being able to touch.

  “Not a snorer, but maybe I kick? Sometimes I wake up all tangled up in the sheets. I might need an extraction in the morning.”

  Chase laughs. “I’m solid, I think I can take some kicking. And I promise to be on extraction duty if I’m needed.”

  Amber nervously bites her lip as he climbs in. “Apologies in advance if I make my way over onto your side, cause you bodily harm, or do anything embarrassing in my sleep.”

  “Don’t worry about it,” he says, trying to reassure her as he gets settled in. They’re about as far apart as two people can get on a bed, and he’d love to cross that distance. He wants her in every way imaginable, but tonight he’d settle for just holding her in his arms. The horny playboy he left behind months ago as his feelings for Amber became undeniably stronger would laugh at him now.

  But he has to stay strong. He wasn’t lying earlier…workplace romances can get messy. Being messy with Amber is a risk he can’t afford to take.

  “Lights out?” Amber asks.

  “Yeah, thanks.”

  She reaches over and presses on the touchpad next to the bed, entrenching the room in darkness. It didn’t seem quiet before, but now Chase hears every rustle off the sheets, every breath Amber takes.

  “Goodnight,” Amber says.

  “Goodnight.”

  There’s no way he’s getting any sleep.

  Chapter Nine

  Amber wakes early, at her normal time of 6:30 A.M. She lets out a soft groan, irritated that she can’t even sleep in when she’s on vacation. It’s a working vacation, sure, but still. She’s cozy and warm, all snuggled up under these insanely nice sheets. This bed is so much nicer than the one she has at home; it feels like she’s sleeping on a cloud suspended in the air.

  She survived the night with Chase. Seems like she was worried about being able to make it through to the other side for nothing. She was so nervous about it last night that she started trying to joke with him about the situation, which calmed her a little bit. She was certain she was going to be up all night fighting to keep herself from reaching over, grabbing him by the neck, and kissing him senseless. Instead, she wound up falling asleep relatively quickly, and she feels surprisingly rested.

  It’s not until Chase shifts in his sleep that she realizes his arm is draped across her back, his fingers curled protectively around her side.

  So carefully that she doesn’t jostle him enough to wake him up, she turns her head. No wonder she’s so comfortable; Chase reached across the bed in the middle of the night and pulled her over to him. Her tank top is bunched dangerously high on her torso, leaving her skin bare to his touch. He’s holding her possessively, unconsciously gliding his thumb across her skin, coming so close to grazing the underside of her breast. His impressive erection presses against her hip.

  She wants to grind her body against his, to forget about all of her misgivings and just let herself enjoy his body and get lost in the way she feels about him for the morning. That line of thought is a dangerous one, so she starts planning her escape. She needs to be stealthy about it so she doesn’t wake him up. It’s difficult enough to talk to him and hint around about what could be if their situation was different. Staying strong with them both awake and in this compromising position would be torture. She doesn’t know if it would be easy to walk away from that, and she needs to walk away.

  She moves to the side, testing the waters. As she’s just about to roll away, Chase grabs her and pulls her closer. He mashes his face into her hair and breaths deep, letting out a contented sigh that makes her heart skip a few nervous, excited beats.

  Why is the universe against her? Why is she repeatedly being tested in this way?

  Amber tries another tactic. She gently rubs her fingers between his, hoping that she can get him to instinctively grasp onto her hand so that she can lift his arm and escape from this exquisite prison.

  She smiles when he does exactly what she hoped he would, and even though his arm is heavier than she expected, she manages to shimmy out from under it like he’s the world’s most handsome limbo stick.

  She lets go of his hand, and the movement wakes him up. She makes the mistake of looking back at his sleep-rumpled face. It’s so unfair that a person can be that sexy while they’re sleeping.

  “Amber?” he says, voice raspy.

  She disappears into the bathroom before she can do something she’ll regret later.

  Amber’s never been inside a house that has an actual salon built in, but she supposes she’s having a lot of firsts this weekend, so why not. There are massage tables, a few pedicure stations, four manicure tables. Amber doesn’t even know why all of this is here. A small room where stylists and manicurists can come in and primp Janice, she can imagine a need for that, but enough to handle a rotating crew of houseguests? It’s insane.

  The men are off playing golf on the course that hugs the south side of the property as the ladies are taking a leisurely afternoon for self-care. Amber can admit to herself that she’s a hypocrite, because she finds the idea of this salon a whole lot less insane once the masseuse starts working on her back.

  She’s on the middle table, flanked by Janice and Elaine Van Buren. Elaine seems like a nice enough lady, but Amber isn’t naive. She knows all these friendships are tenuous and mostly exist because they all run in the same circles. She’s noticed how they keep slipping barbed remarks into the conversation that come off as teasing but are intended to cut deep, to keep everyone in their places. Amber imagines that once the weekend is over and they all head back to the city, they’ll meet up with other friends and gossip about everyone here.

  There’s no teasing, no laughing at shared history like Amber does with her friends. She’s heading to her friend Kaia’s bachelorette party in a couple of weeks, and can’t imagine any of these women being nice enough to each other to last a whole trip, never mind letting go and having fun together. A lifetime of this seems exhausting.

  Seeing how these woman act toward each other is an excellent reminder to Amber that she needs to be careful of what she says no matter how insignificant the question might seen at the time. Any and everything can be used as ammunition against her or Chase in the future. Amber’s pretty sure a few of these women are counting on Amber not knowing how to play this game. She intends to prove them wrong.

  “Amber dear,” Elaine says. “It’s so good to see Chase with someone who sticks, after spending all those years chasing after so many women. I’m friendly with the family, and his mother’s been very concerned about his bed hopping for a while now. Perhaps now he’s settling down.”

  Shots fired, a direct hit.

  “Yes, Chase does have quite the reputation,” Janice agrees. “It’s one of the reasons Michael is so concerned about this business venture Chase proposed. Our wholesome family company teaming up with the man who doesn’t seem to be able to commit to anything? How would that look?”

  Amber has to keep herself from laughing. The woman who just yesterday told her that most of the men in this place have had or are currently having fling
s with their secretaries is clutching her pearls over her wholesome family company? Please.

  She appreciates that the woman is taking her gloves off. Amber always likes knowing exactly what she’s dealing with.

  “That must’ve been a hell of a hurdle to get over, Amber,” Elaine says, voice dripping with performative empathy. “You must be really secure to be able to deal with his past.”

  And another one.

  What is it about the mean girls that they always know exactly how to hit you where it hurts?

  Amber takes a deep breath. She’s not going to insult Janice, but she’s done her homework on Elaine and her husband’s interest in getting fit with women in their early twenties. “Not really,” she says casually, faking a confidence she definitely doesn’t have. “I know Chase better than I know anyone. Better than he knows himself, because that’s part of my job. Chase publicly dated all of those women; he never hid any of it from me, never pretended to be something that he wasn’t. He could’ve been running around with his personal trainer, keeping it all a secret, but he didn’t. And now that he’s devoted to me? Oh, he’s devoted to me. I have no question about where his heart belongs. He made sure to remind me three times last night, and twice this morning.”

  Amber’s voice is dripping with suggestion. Making up details about her and Chase’s non-existent sex life isn’t her preferred strategy of dealing with the situation, but these ladies got a little too candid after the drinks started flowing last night, and she knows their sex lives—or lack thereof—are sensitive subjects.

  Elaine keeps her mouth shut, but Janice laughs. “Oh honey,” she says with a smile. “No wonder you went upstairs early last night.”

  Janice’s reaction lets Amber know that she dealt with this situation just right. She basks in the glory of the moment, and then steels herself for the next round of hypocritical bullshit headed her way.