The Billionaire's Heart (Secret Billionaire's Club Book 1)

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The Billionaire's Heart (Secret Billionaire's Club Book 1) Page 3

by Tracey Pedersen


  Chapter Seven - Kendra

  “Wow.”

  The words are out before I can engage my brain. I’ve managed to play it cool through dinner and the ride here, but the grandeur of his apartment touches every one of my senses, and we’ve only stepped through the door.

  The foyer has ceilings that reach forever, with an enormous chandelier taking centre place. Each piece of glass appears delicate and the effect is one of twinkling fairy lights. It’s old-fashioned, glamorous, over-powering, and beautiful all at once. When I can tear my eyes away from it, I’m captured by the scent of fresh flowers, before my eyes settle on two enormous pots of blooms, their pale tones matched perfectly to the prints on the wall. Faint music plays in the background, as though we’ve arrived at a party after it has already started. As Sayer pulls me through to a main room that overlooks the city, I gasp, my fingers grazing the crushed velvet of a settee. A light grey throw is strategically placed on a chair in the corner of this beautifully laid out room. Everywhere I look, the extra touches are perfect.

  I can taste the wealth in this home, even if I can’t quite explain that notion.

  In three years, I’ve never been to this apartment. I’ve sent packages here. Forwarded urgent correspondence via courier. Even ordered a piece of furniture once that Sayer requested from a catalogue. I had no idea an apartment, even the penthouse, could house such fanciful touches as gold plated taps in the kitchen. That’s what I see as I pass by the giant open plan kitchen, though. Shiny gold taps. Every touch of luxury, every minute detail has been added to this space, styled and designed until it screams money.

  Sayer doesn’t even glance around him as he pulls me toward the window, stands behind me, and slips his hands around my waist. I guess when you’re used to this, you take it all for granted. I shake my head as I stare across the top of several city buildings I recognize. The view is spectacular, and my eyes drink it in, my brain a jumble of all the sensations pouring over me.

  This is not how I expected my night to go.

  I want to touch the window, spread my hands like a child craning to see everything in front of me, but I’d hate to mark the pristine glass. I can imagine a diligent cleaning team keep everything spick and span in this home that feels like a palace. I have no place spoiling the effect.

  “You like?” he says, his breath brushing my ear, his deep voice vibrating across my shoulder.

  “It’s spectacular,” I whisper, unable to find my voice. “I had no idea you had—” I break off. What was I about to blurt out? I had no idea you had so much money? How very crass.

  Since my first day at Mass Media I’ve been surrounded by wealth. By wealthy people, wealthy companies, sometimes by people who could have used a little more wealth in the kindness department. I’ve held my own. Learned to adjust the way I speak, the way I react, even my facial expressions have learned to stay firmly hidden whenever something surprised me or shocked me. I’ve kept every secret, business or otherwise, even when something I’ve seen, or heard, has caused me to examine my own morals. Tonight, all of those learned behaviours have deserted me when I need them most. No way will Sayer be interested in the fantasy we’ve built for ourselves if he sees me as someone impressed by his money.

  I blink rapidly, glad he can’t see my face. What am I doing here, nerves jangling like a star struck teenager?

  Before I’m quite settled his hands move to my shoulders, and with a little squeeze he turns me around. I look up, unsure of myself. Unsure whether to make an excuse and end this. Before it can even begin. He’s close and he licks his lips, his eyes glued to mine as my heart skips a beat and tries to crawl into my throat.

  I should leave. This is a terrible idea.

  My mouth opens but the words don’t get a chance, since Sayer’s lips are crushed to mine. They’re warm, and he tastes like the last sweet treat on earth. My brain screams at me to pull away, to run, but fuck it. This is my one chance to make every daydream I’ve ever had about him come true. Every vivid dream, every sneak peek at his shoulders when he changed his shirt in front of me, every moment I’ve felt jealous of who he dated, all of that ends tonight.

  Tonight, I’ll have my moment with Sayer Smith, and I’m not about to give it up for any silly notion of how awful I’ll feel tomorrow. Tomorrow’s Kendra can take care of herself.

  Chapter Eight - Sayer/Kendra

  Sayer

  Kendra melts against me, then squeals into my mouth when I crush her against the window. We’re on the thirty-second floor, it’s dark and I want her. Here, against the glass. Her lips are as soft as I’ve always imagined. Her fingers slip around my neck and send shivers down my back, waking every part of my body. My hands can’t get enough of her and I slide them under her skirt, pulling it up before I reach down to lift her and wrap her legs around my waist. She’s pliant, moulding to me, kissing me, tiny sounds coming from her throat.

  For a horrible moment I let thoughts of my mother intrude…

  Thank you for choosing a crap date who didn’t show up, Mother. I’ll send you flowers tomorrow.

  KENDRA

  I move above Sayer and it’s like we’ve done this a thousand times. Actually, in my head, I’ve lived this moment more than once. It’s real this time, though, and my fantasies can’t match the excitement running through my body.

  I pulled back when it became obvious he was intent on undressing me against the floor to ceiling windows of his lounge room. As much as I wanted to strip off and let him have his way with me, what I have planned for this gorgeous man is for his eyes only. I have no intention of being a passive player in the night’s festivities. I want to remember this Valentine’s Day for years to come.

  Now we’re making love in his bed and I’m aware of every detail, like my brain is trying to stamp this moment into my memory.

  One of his hands is twisted in my hair, his other cupped around my breast, the thumb grazing my nipple, making me catch my breath as I squeeze around him, hovering over him, the ends of my hair pooling on his chest. My hands slip under my hair, exploring his skin, my fingers sliding through the smattering of chest hair I’ve only imagined being close to. Each time I move, he sucks in his breath, his hooded eyes staring up at me as his hands explore.

  I want to kiss him. To lean forward and press myself against him as we move together.

  As if he reads my mind, he pulls me forward, his grip on my hair tightening as his other hand wraps around me and traces patterns down my spine. His lips capture mine and then work their way down my neck. When he grasps my ass and pulls me closer, I moan. No amount of daydreaming could ever do this moment justice. I’ve died and gone to heaven.

  He thrusts, holding me tight, and I tuck my feet under his thighs, grinding against him, trying to get closer. He pushes me closer to the edge and I gasp as his lips leave my throat, then capture my mouth. His tongue explores, plunging inside in time with our movements. I moan again and the sound spurs him on.

  He drops the hand that twists in my hair and slides it down until he’s holding me tight against him with both hands, straining to push inside me, gripping my ass cheeks with a ferocity that tingles all the way to my toes. I push up and he captures a nipple between his teeth. Tiny nips send sensations twisting through me, our movements creating a delicious friction I can barely stand. I’m losing control, creeping closer to the moment my mind goes blank and pleasure overtakes every sensible thought. I bite my lip, wanting that release so bad, but wanting to stretch out this moment, too. I don’t want it to end. I want to remember this feeling when I’m curled up in my own bed, weeping over my loss.

  Because I will weep for Sayer. The tears will flow in rivers, now that I know what I’m missing. The idea of never knowing his lips on my body again stills my movement. I disrupt our rhythm and he lets out a grunt of frustration, sending a smirk to my lips, and pulling my full attention back to him. He’s close. Close to setting off a chain reaction. I know the moment it’s too late to stop, the moment my brain switch
es off and my body takes over, demanding release.

  He senses it too, before we’re moving, rolling to the side until he’s above me, his thighs pressed hard against my buttocks, his hands pulling me down the bed, tucking themselves behind my knees. There’s no pause in our movements as he pounds against me, grinding himself in all the right places, my hands reaching for his neck. We gravitate toward each other, each striving to get closer, our lips smashing together, tongues and teeth creating a symphony of lust. My fingers dig into his shoulder and he hisses against my open mouth, pushing deeper, and harder, and faster.

  Deep in my belly that unfamiliar sensation unfurls and there’s no turning back. He’s touching me everywhere I’ve ever imagined, pulling groans from my throat as we move together, sweaty skin sliding, heavy breathing filling the room. He pulls away and slips his hand between us, finding my swollen lips, rubbing his thumb in perfect circles. I arch my spine, unable to put off the inevitable, not even to extend this mind-bending experience. I clamp myself around him, open my mouth and moan into the darkness. Waves of pleasure hit me, pulsing through my core, rushing upward and engulfing any random thoughts I have left. My mind goes blank as I gasp and wiggle, his thrusts not stopping for a second as he speeds up, mimicking my sounds until he lets out his own shout and gives one last thrust, grinding hard between my legs, his fingers clamped onto my thighs to hold me close as he unloads his pleasure.

  He promised we’d make music together and boy, did he deliver. My body is singing, like a giant gong that’s been tapped and now it reverberates with no end in sight. I slide against him as he relaxes, stretching, and he rolls, keeping my arms wrapped around him. I kiss his chest and he tucks me into his arm, kissing my hair and caressing my face.

  Our breathing takes a moment to calm and I’m glad it’s dark so he can’t see my smile. I might have regrets about this tomorrow, but right now I could walk on air.

  SAYER

  “Wow.” That’s all Kendra could say when she saw my apartment, and it’s all I can think now. I wish I’d pushed harder and made her mine before this. If I’d known how well we’d fit, I would have been my usual self and demanded what I wanted.

  Note to self. Always follow your gut.

  Who am I kidding? I did know it would be like this. I knew I’d want her more once I had a taste. I knew I’d only be able to relax when I found my someone, and that she was it for me.

  As I drift between sleep and consciousness, I make a mental note to call Danny tomorrow and thank him. If he didn’t suggest the stupid game of hooking up on holidays for all of this year, and insisting I go first, Kendra would not be here in my arms.

  Chapter Nine - Kendra

  My eyes flicker open and the threads of my erotic dream slide away into the half-light. I smile at how content I am after that dream, even though my nipples are hard from the images I’m even now forgetting. I turn my head and, with a start, discover the things running through my head were not dreams.

  They happened.

  To me, Kendra Snow.

  Last night.

  A whole night with Sayer, the gorgeous man who snores softly beside me. I admire his profile, something I’ve never seen in this total state of relaxation. His forehead is smooth, empty of the worries he carries during the day. His square jaw shows the first signs of stubble—something else I’ve not seen on him. I want to reach out and stroke it, imagine it against my mouth. Or somewhere else.

  I don’t want to wake him, though. As much as I want to curl against his body and drift into my dreams, it’s already late morning judging by the light filtering through the crack in the curtains.

  Sayer made fun of me last night when I insisted he close the curtains. Waking up with someone peering through the window is not my idea of fun. Even if we’re so high up that no one has a view inside, I bet he’s glad now that the curtains are blocking the sun.

  I stretch out, careful not to move too much. The high ceiling is the recipient of my thoughtful stares as I imagine what comes next for us. It could be weird in the office while I work out my notice period. Will our interaction change after last night? Will I be ashamed, or insulted if he resumes our work-relationship and doesn’t acknowledge me?

  Hardly. I laugh quietly at the thought. I don’t want people to know that we slept together. This was a chance to get him out of my system before we both move on, nothing more. Even as I think the words, I know I’m lying to myself. If I could think of a decent way to stretch this out, I would. If it was possible to keep this between us, I’d straddle him right now and ask for a repeat performance. I brush a strand of hair out of my eyes and then the thoughts I’ve kept at bay squeeze through my armour, and panic washes over me.

  Sayer’s mother will know. I slept with my boss and now his mother, who barely tolerates me, is going to find out!

  What was I thinking? I only had two drinks all night so I can’t blame the alcohol. The blood drains from my face at the same moment my body reminds me of my night with Sayer. He made me feel things. Things I didn’t let myself believe I could experience with him. In the early hours we reached for each other and made that music he promised all over again. If I was anyone else, I’d be dreaming of babies and picket fences.

  But I’m not anyone else. I’m his assistant and this was a huge mistake.

  And, oh my God, what will his mother say? I can’t imagine she’ll be discrete. I’m going to find out what she thinks, and hear her opinion, most likely in minute detail at an exceptional volume.

  I slide out of bed, careful not to pull the sheets with me. My clothes are strewn everywhere and even that isn’t enough to draw a smile. Cold sweat crosses my skin as I pull on yesterday’s flimsy camisole and my panties, which I find behind the curtain. The sunlight threatens to pour in as I retrieve them, but I hold the heavy fabric together. As I straighten, I use my last opportunity to admire the man-god still sleeping, his arm stretched out now to where I lay a moment ago.

  Every part of me wants to crawl into that bed and put aside thoughts of what anyone might think. I’d love nothing more than to pretend we are other people, in another situation. That’s not what will happen, though.

  I know what I have to do.

  Chapter Ten - Sayer

  When I open my eyes, Kendra is standing beside me, an intent expression on her face. It takes me a moment to realize that she has my phone in her hands and she’s hunched over it, paying no attention to me. Her body language says she’s trying to be quiet. She runs her finger up the screen, taps twice and lays the phone carefully on my bedside table.

  Then she jumps a foot in the air when I reach out and grab her wrist.

  “Hey beautiful, what are you up to?” I pull her forward until she topples onto me and I can wrap my arms around her. “I wanted to wake up first so I could stare at you while you slept.” Her eyes widen and she lifts her head to stare at me. “Sorry. That sounded creepy.”

  She laughs and relaxes again. “I was setting an alarm for you, so you don’t miss your flight. Plus, I did enough staring for the two of us.”

  “You’re leaving?” Even though I’m lying down my stomach drops. She’s partly dressed, if you can call it that, and while she’s laughing, her face is strained.

  She was sneaking out.

  “Uhh, well, I have to lodge those papers. I need to retrieve my car. I have grocery shopping to do, my mother is due a call and I didn’t feed my cat last night since I didn’t go home.”

  “You have a cat?”

  Her brows knit together, and she stares at me. “Yes, I have a cat.”

  “I didn’t peg you for a cat person.”

  “Why? Because you have a dog everyone else is automatically a dog person?” It seems she’s grumpy in the morning. Better file that away for future reference. “Where is your dog, anyway?”

  “He’s at my mothers. He doesn’t like the kennel, so I take him there for short visits. And I don’t think everyone is a dog person, I just can’t imagine you being bossed arou
nd by a cat.”

  She laughs, again, but tries to pull away. “That cat owns my soul, I can assure you. Now, I have to go, and you have a flight to catch.” She wiggles but I hold on tight. I’m not ready for our time together to end. It bothers me that she was about to sneak out without waking me. Something about that action is not a positive sign.

  I raise an eyebrow. “I’m going to cancel my flight.”

  “You can’t cancel. That meeting has been planned for weeks.”

  “I can cancel, and I will. Or else you can come with me. After we feed the cat, of course. What’s his name?”

  She frowns and stops wiggling. “Alexander.” We stare at each other for a few seconds and then she sighs, blinking quickly, in what I’ve come to know is her tell for being annoyed. “Why would you need me along?”

  “Oh, I have plenty of need for you.” I push against her and laugh as her eyes widen. “Now you know how much.” She grins, and the sparkle in her eyes tell me she’s on the verge of giving in. One more push and she’ll do whatever I want, so I play dirty to get my way. “Spend the rest of the weekend with me. I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

  Now her forehead crinkles and she bites her lip, gazing past me to my phone. I tuck her hair behind her ears and lean up to kiss her chin. Her head drops, and I waste no time capturing her lips, convincing her with my mouth, since my words haven’t succeeded. My morning stubble rubs against her chin and she sags against me.

  I think I just won this round.

  “So, that’s a yes?” I move with her, telegraphing my need so there can be no doubt what I want.

  “It’s a bad idea. There will be repercussions if you don’t go to that meeting.”

  I shrug and roll us over. I lean to the side to pull the blanket out from between us, then I cover her body with mine, my hands resting in her hair either side of her face. “I don’t care. The meeting can be rescheduled. I’d rather cancel and keep you for the weekend than waste four hours each way with you on a plane. Especially a plane where I can’t freely touch you.”

 

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