Stealing Her Heart: A Billionaire, Small Town Romance (Sweet, Sexy Shorts Book 11)

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Stealing Her Heart: A Billionaire, Small Town Romance (Sweet, Sexy Shorts Book 11) Page 4

by Kaylee Spring


  Chapter 10

  Robert

  When I slide inside of her, Hailey draws in a deep breath. Then she’s me down on top of her. Taking my mouth in hers.

  We are unbridled in our lovemaking. Our bodies writhe. I rub my hands down every bit of her skin my fingers can find. When I’m not catching my breath or finding her lips, I’m sucking on her luscious breasts. She has the cutest nipples I’ve ever seen. I didn’t think it was possible for nipples to be anything but sexy, but hers manage to be cute as well. And I can’t help but suck at them, enjoying the way she presses against me as I do.

  Inside me, sheer ecstasy is building to a crescendo that I won’t be able to hold back much longer. I’m losing myself to the moment. The movement. The sensation of my cock sliding in and out of Hailey. To the sexy moans she makes as she too rides higher towards a heaven of perfection. Where all of our differences, all of the worries—simply everything—fades away.

  When I cum, I lose control of my actions. I press inside of her with a shuddering motion, pausing at the deepest point. Hailey quivers, her thighs shaking as her eyes roll back in her head. I collapse on top of her heaving chest, her breasts sweaty and warm. Her breath rolls over my ear, ticklish and frantic in its speed.

  We don't say anything. A simple peck on the lips is all she gives me as she hops up and tiptoes into the bathroom minutes later. I keep watching the light under the door, but the sound of the running water as she gets ready for bed, the dopamine coursing through my exhausted body, and the comfort that I feel after such a perfect session of lovemaking leaves me unable to fight the sandman pulling my eyelids down.

  I hate to be the caricature of a man who falls asleep right after sex, but I’m pretty sure that Hailey will understand. It's a strange thing, I think as I sink deeper into the blackness of sleep. In the time that I’ve known Hailey, the Earth has only spun on its axis a single time. The horizon of a new day is still just out of reach. And what it will bring with it is completely unknown.

  I’ve still got the same problems I had when I woke this morning in the only hotel Branchville has to offer. Only they feel lighter now. Further away. Whereas I should be worrying over the presentation I have to make when I return to the city, I just can’t bring myself to stay awake long enough to send even an email to my assistant.

  Chapter 11

  Hailey

  It’s been two days of sunshine and shopping. Sand and sleeping in. Late nights of further exploring each other bodies. But during all this time, we still haven’t broken through the skin deep. I still know nothing of his life outside his trip to my quaint town. If I were forced to choose the menu at the next restaurant, I couldn’t be sure that he would enjoy (or perhaps even be allergic) to the dishes I chose.

  Robert is still very much a mystery. What I little do know is this:

  His abs and curvy shoulders and strong forearms are evidence enough that he’s on a first-name basis with a personal trainer somewhere. That he sweats and plans his meals and pushes himself daily to better himself. Then there’s the fact that he’s rich. If flying first class didn’t tip me off, the way that he never looks at prices or hesitates to buy something is clear enough.

  So he’s rich and hot. Which begs the question: why am I here?

  I’m not self absorbed enough to even imagine that this is because I’m such a prize. On the contrary, I know exactly who I am. I’ve known since I was an elementary school student, and my social studies teacher—a witch named Miss Rodcherry—laughed in my face when I said that I was going to live in a big building in a big city one day. Fifteen years later, I still remember exactly what she told me:

  “Hailey, you're a nobody from nowhere who will live and die without anyone noticing.”

  But Robert notices me. And no matter how much I don’t get it—or even think that I deserve it—he’s more than I ever could have hoped for.

  Still. He can’t solve all my problems.

  While we were sitting at a real luau, the performers on stage dancing in their leaf skirts and one of the guys spinning fire batons, I’m deep inside my own mind, wondering if my job at the bank will still be there when I get back. I managed to get in touch with the manager and explained my situation, but the way he accepted my absence so readily, not even questioning me when I said that I wasn’t sure when I’d return, left me feeling less reassured than it should have. I’m still second-guessing myself even as I experience a once-in-a-lifetime dinner.

  There’s something else my manager said when we spoke. A cryptic comment about Shane.

  “I’d say nothing’s changed since you’ve been away, but we’ve got a new police chief, so that’s got to count for something. That’s what you get for philandering with the mayor’s wife though.” Before I can ask what he means, my manager says that he has to run and that he’ll see me when I come back. “If you come back.”

  This is the thought that brings me back out of my reverie and face-to-face with my date. For the first time, he seems preoccupied. There’s something pulling him down. And after the first time I ask him what’s on his mind goes completely unacknowledged, I reach across the table, wrap gentle fingers around his wrist, and watch as his eyes find mine.

  “Sorry,” he says. “What were you saying?”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he says and immediately takes a bite of poke. He’s chewing on the raw fish with fervor, and I can tell he’s on the verge of changing the topic. But I think it’s time that we talk about our lives away from this perfect moment. Even if it means breaking the surface of the serene water.

  “There’s something I’ve been wondering for a while.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Why were you in Branchville in the first place?” I catch myself biting my lips and stop myself. I hate this reaction of mine. I feel like it makes me seem immature or unsure of myself, but Robert grins at me. Still, I’m trying to be serious, so I continue with my interrogation. “There was literally no reason for you to be there.”

  “You don’t think it’s just that I heard about this cute teller at a local bank and had to check her out for myself?” He’s flashing that smile that made me think he was wild and unpredictable the first time we met. Only three days ago when I thought he was a bank robber. Only now I see it as this gesture that always precedes a mischievous action.

  Sure enough, he reaches across the table and walks his index finger and middle finger up the back of my forearm like a pair of legs. I grab his hand and bring his palm to my lips.

  “As much as I would love for that to be true, I know there’s some other reason. And as lovely as you’ve been—please don’t think I’m nagging or anything like that—but I catch you sometimes staring out at nothing or tapping out a message on your phone when you think I’m still in the bathroom. So why don’t you tell me what’s going on. You never know. I might just be able to help. Especially if it’s related to my hometown.”

  Robert’s expression changes. It’s somehow more serious and yet unsure.

  “The reason I came to your town is an industry secret.”

  I would laugh, but the way he says this is serious enough to stop my initial reaction. So, instead, I repeat his words back to him. “An industry secret?”

  He sighs. Places his fork down. Reaches for his glass of beer and downs the remaining half in one go. Then, after yet another deep breath that must be bracing him for the bomb he’s about to drop, he says, “The truth is that my father is Ronald McAvery.”

  He says this like it’s supposed to mean something, but nothing is connecting in my brain.

  “I’ll take it you’ve never heard of him?”

  I shake my head.

  “But you must have heard of McAvery Investments.”

  This puzzle pieces that seem so clear now click into place. “Your family owns McAvery Investments?”

  “Guilty as charged. I’m the son of the CEO trying to prove himself. Only, how can I ever live up to my dad’s image? He
helped his own father put the company on the map. I’m just his only born who flies around the world, marking off countries.”

  “That explains how you have enough money to explore the world,” I reply. “What I’m struggling to get is why you would ever set your sights on Branchville.”

  Robert holds up one finger. “In a word, money.”

  “You're going to have to walk me through that one. Because I’ve lived there all my life, and not once have I equated my hometown with anyone rich. I mean, someone who graduated from my high school once starred in a TV commercial for deodorant, but that’s about the extent of our celebrities.”

  “I’m not talking about money that your town has. McAvery Investments is looking to expand into the solar market. Now we could purchase a piece of land in New York for an arm and two legs. Or we could buy some land down here dirt cheap. Open up jobs for people who need them. Maybe even bring in more companies looking to diversify. The way I see it, it’s a win-win situation.”

  “But why Branchville?” I ask. “There are thousands of small towns with land that’s basically worthless. Why come to my corner of the country?”

  Robert winces at this. “Can we just say that I threw a dart at a map?”

  “We could. Or you could say the real reason.”

  A deep sigh. “You’re not going to like it, but the reason I stopped by your bank was to get cash before I met up with this hot flight attendant I met a few months back. She’s apparently from your town and….” He trails off after I slug him in the shoulder. “Guess I didn’t need to add that part about her being hot, did I?”

  “You think?”

  “The important part is that I ran into you first. And honestly, this is the first time I’ve thought about her since I got cuffed on your bank floor.”

  “It’s not my bank. I just work there. Or at least I hope I still will when I get back.” I rub my hands through my hair. “Shit. I really wish we hadn’t started talking about all this. Now I can’t even appreciate where I am. All I’m doing now is worrying about my job back home. That reminds me. Did you get Shane fired?”

  “Shane?”

  “The policeman that tackled you to the ground that day in the bank.”

  I watch as the stress weighing him down is shed, and Robert recalls something much more enjoyable.

  “Is that bastard out already? I thought it would take at least a month.”

  I gasp. “What did you do?”

  He shrugs. “Not much. I’d say Karma did most of the work.”

  My eyes widen as I think back to what I told him about Shane. “You got him fired because of what he did to me.”

  “I’m not a saint enough to say that was the only motivating factor. My shoulder’s been bothering me since that day. But yes, it was mostly because of what you told me.” When I say nothing—only look at him with expectation—he relents.

  “I was really hoping to leave the details of what I did a mystery. Because the truth is pretty melodramatic.” He sighs when I simply tilt my head and wait for further elaboration. “Really, I didn’t do much. What he did to me wasn’t technically illegal. I was a suspected bank robber after all. But I figured that if he’s always had a bit of a temper and flare for getting his way that he must have something to hide. So I hired a private investigator to follow him. I heard that he found out the cop was cheating, but I never heard anything more. Guess I should check my email.”

  “From what my old boss says, he was sleeping with the mayor’s wife. It’s the talk of the town.”

  He whistles at this but then homes in on something else I accidentally let slip.

  “What do you mean ‘your old boss’? You really think he’s not going to hold your job for you?”

  I shrug. “ I did just kind of leave without any notice.”

  “What would you do if you got fired?”

  “I have no idea. If it got bad enough, I’d have to take whatever job I could get. Maybe go back to work at the bookstore I did some part-time stuff for back in college.”

  “Or you could work for me.”

  My head literally whips around at this. His eyes are steady as my heart leaps about like a kid who just ate her whole Halloween stash in a single night.

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about you coming back and giving the proposal with me. Then heading up the project once it’s approved.”

  “And if it’s not?”

  He puts his hands over his heart. “Ouch. You really don’t sugarcoat things, do you? But you’re absolutely right. It might not go through. In which case, I would keep you on in the finance department or as my personal assistant. Whatever works best.”

  I’m staring at him. Unblinking. Waiting for him to fold, for his little charade to come tumbling down. As amazing as the past few days have been, I was perfectly ready to face the truth that I was just another notch on his bed. That he would soon be jet setting again, and in a few months he wouldn’t even remember my name. Meanwhile, I’d be back to my boring existence, knowing that I had already peaked. That nothing would ever compare to my time with Robert.

  “Are you serious?”

  His answer is a kiss. It lingers and my disbelief and hope and excitement have me wondering if this is the moment I’ll look back on in years as my turning point. Because right now, I don’t feel like the same person I was only three days ago.

  Chapter 12

  One Month Later

  The sun is fully awake by the time I squint against its malevolent light. I’m just remembering exactly how much champagne and wine and shots we went through the night before. Hailey’s next to me, sexy despite the drool stain on her pillow. She’s managed to kick off half the blanket during the night, and her gorgeous leg is thrown over an extra pillow. Her lace panties are still on, despite my hopes and expectations from twelve hours ago. The fact is that we got absolutely out of control at the office outing last night.

  Not that I regret it. Though not having a headache that threatens to shatter my skull into a thousand pieces would certainly be nice. But after we won approval for our solar farm in her hometown, it’s not exactly like we could just go out for a normal night. No, Hailey, ever the small-town girl with an appreciation for even the smallest of links on the chain, had to go and invite everyone who had anything to do with our proposal—down to the intern who copied the handouts for our presentation—out for a night on the town. Where we promptly drank every bottle of alcohol the city had to offer.

  Even after I drag myself out of the bed, empty my bladder, and then drink four consecutive glasses of water, my eyes still haven’t managed to focus. And Hailey is still in the same position I left her in. After watching for a few seconds, I see her chest rise and fall. So she’s alive, at least. And time will tell if she’s suffering as much as I am.

  Even if Hailey has cooked Southern biscuits three times since moving to the ‘big city’ as she still calls it in her cute, quaint accent, I’m not brave enough to do more than toast a few slices of bread. But slathered with real Irish butter and organic strawberry jam, it certainly looks delectable enough. A couple cups of orange juice and two fresh mugs of coffee rounds out what Hailey has started to refer to as ‘Continental Breakfast—Robert Style’.

  I bring it on a tray to the bed and place it on the floor beside the bed. Then I kneel beside Hailey and watch her for a few seconds before I wake her.

  If I were asked, even now, what it was that made me bring her to my apartment—to give up my one-night-stand lifestyle—I couldn’t really point out one specific thing.

  Hailey is gorgeous, but this is New York City. And I’m the son of one of its richest. Beauty can be bought a dozen times over. It’s not her sense of humor either, which I’ve repeatedly told her again and again falls somewhere between corny and dad humor. That fact hasn’t stopped my half grins at any of her stupid jokes though.

  Unlike the other plastic girls in the city, though, Hailey remains unimpressed with my bespoke s
uits and handmade leather shoes. She isn’t one to pay much attention to brand names, and even when we’ve been sat next to celebrities at restaurants this past month, she either hasn't recognized them, or she’s been more likely to make friends than ask for a shallow selfie to post to her non-existent social media.

  Hailey is an endangered species in this day and age: a real person unaffected by hype and popularity.

  My hand goes to her thigh to wake her, caressing up and down the skin.

  I can’t help it. I’m already hard.

  She wakes with a moan and a stretch that I can’t imagine being topped as the sexiest thing I see today. This stretch lifts her shirt, exposing her flat tummy. It doesn’t hurt that I can see her nipples poking through the fabric. Nor that she almost purrs as my fingers glide further up her inner thigh.

  Here I was expecting her to wake with a hangover that would leave even her normally upbeat attitude in the gutter, but when her eyes flicker open, that spark is still in there. Her gaze flicks from me to the toast. She says in a rough, morning voice, “What a lovely breakfast you’ve brought me.”

  When I begin to make a joke about having cooked it my style, she reaches not for the food, but for me. Her arms go around my neck, pulling me down on top of her. In seconds, Hailey has rolled herself on top of me. She’s lost every shred of clothing in our initial frenzy, and the sunlight flooding in through the windows paints her in brilliant hues and shadows. I reach up for her as she pulls her hair back in a band and slide my fingers down her body from her cheeks to her shoulders to her sides. All the way down her legs until I grip at her ass.

 

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