The Barrington Billionaires Collection 1

by Danielle Stewart

  “I’m taking you to the symphony,” he announced as though it should have been obvious.

  “You said you weren’t,” she stammered. “You told me to leave.” Her eyes were roaming over his tuxedo as though he might vanish any second. And she was right. He was on the verge of running.

  “So you decided to take Sophie up on her offer of some stranger going with you? You’d go out with some guy you know nothing about in a city you know nothing about just because some other stranger told you it was fine?” The idea of another man’s arm looping around hers as he escorted her up the marble stairs of the symphony hall made him sick. Some pompous, well dressed, rich bastard would be whispering compliments in her ear tonight. He was the only well-dressed rich bastard who should be allowed to do that. Because the other guy would only have the intention of getting her exactly where Emmitt already had. The difference was that guy wouldn’t walk away. He wouldn’t leave her . . . how did she say it? Bare and ready.

  “Are you going to take me to the symphony?” she asked in a hushed voice, like one used to keep a spooked animal calm. Her head was cast down but her eyes peered up, batting under her long mascara-covered lashes.

  “Yes,” he said as though it were the most obvious answer. “Yes. I am taking you to the symphony.”

  “All right then.” She smiled brightly and then dulled it suddenly, looking afraid to come on too strong. “I’ll meet you in the lobby in five minutes. I need to make a phone call.”

  “Good,” he asserted, shaking his head. “Yes. Good. The symphony with me. That’s what we’re doing.” Backing into the hallway he heard the hotel room door close. “Good,” he said again, now trying to convince himself this was the right move.

  The image of her flowing blond hair in luscious curls and the tiny drop necklace that sank down to her cleavage was a powerful memory but instantly dulled by the reality when she stepped off the elevator, and he had a chance to see it all again. The subdued pink gloss on her lips and the bright white and pale purple shadow over her eyes made the blue in them sparkle.

  “You look . . .” he murmured, squirming uncomfortably.

  “Thanks,” she interjected, letting him off the hook. “I’m glad you changed your mind about coming.”

  He considered telling her how Mathew had framed it all up. This was just one more piece of a job being done. An obligation. But Emmitt was a smart man. If he had any intention at all of getting through this night with Evie still smiling, then the truth had no place between them. That was most people’s mistake, treating the truth like an absolute. Like you were obligated to provide it to someone. It was much more of a moving target in his opinion.

  “You look very handsome,” she said coyly as she allowed him to lead her to the street.

  “I’ve got a car service. No cabs tonight. That’s just when I’m on the job. Trying to blend in.” He gestured over to the sleek looking black limo with dark tinted windows and envisioned fucking her there. There wasn’t room in his mind right now for whether that was right or wrong.

  “I’m sorry about the Sophie thing,” Evie offered genuinely as they climbed into the limo and settled in next to each other, ignoring all the unused room.

  He knew the right thing to say here. Don’t worry about it. I’m sorry too. I

  overreacted. But if unspoken words could fill a space, in his lifetime Emmitt could have packed the Grand Canyon to the top. The amount of women he walked away from while they were mid-sentence was staggering. Disengaging was his specialty.

  He tilted his head and bit at the inside of his mouth. Some kind of throat clearing grunt was all he could muster. It was pathetic actually, the action of a child unwilling to admit wrongdoing. But he wasn’t wired the right way, and this is where it became most noticeable. Shockingly, the tiny noise, the nonsensical incomprehensible offering he gave her as a response still made Evie smile as though he’d just verbally smoothed the situation over with a goddamn soliloquy. That was enough for her.

  “Have you been to the symphony before?” Evie asked, taking a stray curl and pushing it behind her ear. “I know you told Sophie you had, but I wasn’t sure if that was just for show.” One of her dangling earrings swung back and forth, taunting him to pounce.

  “My mother dragged us there a lot when we were young. I hated it. Once I set off a cherry bomb in the bathroom. That was the last time she took me.”

  “Were you a handful?”

  “For a single mom, I guess. My dad took off and Mathew tried acting like the man of the house, but I was just pissed at the world. I put my mom through hell. It’s why I enlisted. I figured if I didn’t, and I kept going the way I was, it would kill her. She’s not well as it is.”

  “She’s not?” Evie asked, the slight lean forward and the look of worry in her eyes too much for him. The body language of someone who cared, someone who wanted to know him in a way he preferred not to be known by anyone.

  “I don’t want to talk about it. I just want to look at you in that dress. Where did you find something like that on such short notice? It’s like it was made for you.”

  “It was. I stole it from the movie set,” Evie admitted, and her bashful fluttering eyes made him want to rip the straps from her dress and take her now. “It was meant for the big make-up scene, where the jerk in the movie finally sees the light and stops treating my character like dirt.” Whether she was trying to draw an intentional parallel to real life or not, it was there.

  Emmitt didn’t defend his behavior or plead his case to anyone. Being an asshole was perfectly fine by him. Or it had been. He had great control over his mind. He’d always been able to right himself. He’d seen his share of carnage and bullshit while deployed. It took a certain level of mental fortitude to be able to deal with it. For some reason the dialogue in his mind, the tape running on a loop, was hard to quiet right now. It kept telling him to kiss Evie. Kiss her not solely to sleep with her but so no one else would kiss her. So that he’d maybe get a chance to do it again the next day and the day after that. He wanted her. He’d have her. He’d have to have her. Fuck the consequences and his shortcomings and the guilt. This was unbearable and it had to end.

  “I think we should skip the concert,” Emmitt said. “I won’t be able to get through it.”

  “Why? Can you not appreciate some beautiful music in an amazing upscale atmosphere?” She scrutinized his face but he could tell she already knew his answer.

  “I can’t handle that dress,” he admitted, taking her delicate hand in his and sliding it up his thigh until she could feel his excitement. “Can you handle this?” he asked, his hand sliding across the silky material and finding her pointed nipples, begging to be touched. He gave one a firm pinch and timed it with a bite on her ear lobe.

  “We should still go,” she gasped out, but her body continued to disagree with her words. She arched her back pushing herself closer to his touch.

  “We’re closer to the hotel than the theater. We could be back there in less than five minutes. We could be in my room in less than eight minutes. I could be inside you in less than ten minutes.” He never moved his mouth from her ear as he spoke.

  “And you could be telling me to leave in less than thirty minutes,” she sighed, as reality began to flow back in. “This doesn’t really mean anything to you. I know that.”

  “It would be a hell of a lot longer than thirty minutes. I don’t know who you’ve been fucking, but I’m no two-pump chump from the farm you grew up on.” He let his fingers continue to roam over her body and entice every inch of her. “You’d be mine for hours.”

  “Hours?” she asked with a devilish grin that quickly slid off her face. “How lucky of me to get you for hours before you cast me aside.” She pulled away slightly and her back went rigid in a completely different way.

  “You need answers I can’t give. But I can make it fun.” He moved his hand up her leg, still amazed by the feel of the dress under his fingers.

  “The symphony will be fun,�
�� she said, crossing her legs tightly as though she were slamming a door. A very sexy, appetizing door that he desperately wanted to enter.

  “You’re tough,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “I can’t seem to figure you out. You’re mad I walk away from you when you so clearly wanted to be fucked. Now I’m here ready to fuck you, and you’re insisting we go to the symphony.”

  “And you told me to get the hell out of the state, then you show up in a tux and take me in a limo. So kettle, I’m the pot and you’re black.”

  “Fair enough,” he groaned, leaning back in his seat, knowing the moment had passed. “But you will be glad later you came with me and not whatever sap Sophie Barrington planned to have escort you. You’ll forget his name when you’re screaming mine.”

  “What makes you so sure I’ll sleep with you tonight?” Her arms folded across her chest, closing yet another door on him.

  “Don’t you want to? Haven’t you been thinking about it since I left your room the other night?” He ran a finger under the skinny strap of her dress and tugged it off her shoulder.

  “Quite a bit actually,” she admitted. “But I’ve also been thinking about who you are. Tonight when you showed up at my hotel room door you changed from just a guy who might have me screaming his name into a man. Something more whole, more complete than the two-dimensional object you’ve been pretending to be. Now I’m considering what that means. What I want it to mean.”

  A knot in his stomach pulled tight. This was exactly what he’d wanted to avoid. “It means nothing,” he said curtly. “It means you are seeing what you want to see rather than what is. You’re giving me far more credit than I deserve. I fuck up. I trash people’s lives. I leave carnage in my wake. My choices are garbage. I don’t care about anything but myself.”

  “If this is your sales pitch, I’ll be honest, it’s a turnoff.”

  Her wry smile was only unsettling him more. She should be running for the hills, not making light of his fuck-ups. “It’s a warning. I think you’re a good person. You deserve a warning. Just ask around.”

  “I form my own opinions of people,” she said as the car came to a stop in front of the theater. “I can’t judge you based on all the stuff you did before I knew you.”

  “Of course you can. You should. That’s what judgement is about. The whole picture. If you want to fuck and have a good time tonight, I’ll make it the best you’ve ever had. But if you’re looking for more from me than that, I’m out.”

  “Out?” she asked with a laugh. “So if tonight I knock on your hotel room door wearing nothing under this dress, you’ll turn me away? If I . . .” she lifted his hand, curled back all his fingers except his index and sucked it deep into her mouth. Pulling it out with a slow swirl of her tongue she continued, “If I want you, I can’t have you?”

  “Games,” he said, shaking his head, unable to hide the sharp intake of breath at the feel of her tongue. “You don’t want to play games with me.”

  “I have an even more important question. Will you answer it honestly?” she asked, leaning in and pulling his eyes to hers. With a hand on his cheek she kept him there, staring deep into him as he nodded his reluctant agreement that he’d answer honestly.

  “If I called you tonight and said I needed you, that I’d screwed up and I was lost, or hurt, or in trouble, would you save me?” She looked at him with such intensity, he felt like he’d burst into flames if he lied. “If I was crying, if I was scared, how fast would you get to me?” She leaned in and brushed her lips to his. Keeping them close as she spoke. “Would you save me? Would you protect me?”

  “Fuck,” he said, yanking her onto his lap as he kissed her passionately.

  “So maybe you care about other people,” she challenged, dodging his kiss for a few seconds. “Maybe it’s more than just fucking me.”

  Hearing her pretty mouth utter that dirty word sent him over the edge. “Fuck the symphony,” he said, but didn’t make another move until she spoke.

  “Yeah,” she finally breathed out, punctuating it with a kiss. “Yeah, fuck the symphony.”

  Chapter 13

  There was a bit of a loophole. Evie knew that. She hadn’t made him say this was more than sex. There was no promise that passed between them. But it was too far gone now. She couldn’t stop herself, and she didn’t want to stop him. There were two competing voices in her head. One kept saying, there’s more to him than he lets on. It kept telling her, “Emmitt is capable of caring, and he cares about you.” The other voice was far bitchier and frankly she had to shut it up. Maybe he was using her. Maybe he’d be gone when she woke up. But every ounce of sexuality in her body climbed up to her brain, threw a muzzle on that bitchy little voice, and gave in to the night.

  He’d ordered the driver to take them back to the hotel. He tugged her quickly behind him as they raced for his room. The dress she’d stolen from the movie set, the one she’d probably never be able to afford was torn nearly in two on the floor next to her. Evie was now only in a black lace thong as she crawled to the top of the bed and waited for him to do something else. Tearing her dress was so primal, so powerful, she could only imagine what he was capable of.

  Her lower half was steaming with a new heat as he stared at her, shaking his head in what she hoped was excited disbelief. “What?” she asked, feeling the need to cover up under his gaze.

  “Don’t do that,” he demanded. “Don’t cover yourself. Tonight, all night, there isn’t an inch of you to hide. I’m going to have all of it. His eyes were glittering against the light cast off from the lamp by the bed. She glanced over at it, wanting to dive in its direction and quickly click it off. “Lights on,” he insisted, seeming to read her mind. “Nothing here to hide from.” He growled as he pulled off his clothes, tossing them to the floor and exposing every sculpted inch of his own body. “We’re going to do this right. You’re going to tell me what you do when you’re alone.”

  “What do you mean?” she asked, instantly becoming prickly and hot with embarrassment.

  “Every woman knows better than any man how she likes to be touched. She knows how fast she wants to be fucked, how hard. But for some reason,” he moved onto the bed, licking his lips as he stared at her intensely, “they feel like they can’t have it how they want it. They just have to hope it happens. Not with me. I’ll give it to you just how you tell me to.”

  “I . . . ah, I don’t know,” she lied. She knew how she liked it, what drove her crazy with passion. What she didn’t know was whether she was capable of uttering the words aloud.

  “Lights on,” he said firmly. “No hiding. No lying. No pretending. No faking. Just fucking the way you want to be fucked for as long and hard as you want to.”

  “I didn’t peg you for such a generous lover.” She giggled nervously, trying to deflect away from reality in the room.

  “I pegged you exactly as embarrassed as you are right now. I figured you’ve never begged for it the way you’ll beg tonight. What are you afraid of? I can make it exactly the way you like it. What could be bad about that?”

  “It’s just not what I’m used to,” she admitted, not able to look at him full on. “There’s never been much discussion. Just kind of—”

  “Fumbling?” He laughed. “Faking? Not tonight. Not with me.”

  “I’m not really sure,” she lied again.

  “You are. You could list five things right now you know would have you screaming in ecstasy. You could point to every spot that made you cry out. You know how hard you want me to bite, how fast you want me to lick.”

  “I do,” she said, finally unable to suppress the pools of heat forming all over her body. Throbbing and aching overcame her. He was right. She knew what she wanted and how she wanted it. “I like on top,” she stuttered out. “I like to be touched while I’m on top.”

  “Good start,” he said, slithering toward her finally and parting her legs as he took both her ankles in his hands. “I’ll enjoy the view while you ride me. Let’s fin
d out what else you like.” His lips moved from her ankle, up her calf to the inside of her thigh, alternating between kisses and licks until he got so close to her folds she could feel his breath. But he stopped abruptly, hovering there.

  “Beg.”

  “I, uh . . .” she shook her head and closed her eyes tightly, “I’m sure I’m not what you’re used to. I know you’ve probably been with—” Her lips snapped shut suddenly as his mouth closed in on her core, soaking her tiny thong. “Yes,” she breathed out shockingly loud.

  “You’re better than anyone I’ve been with,” he said coolly as he slid her thong down her body and looked pleased at the prize hiding beneath it. “You’re perfect. Open your eyes.”

  She obeyed, finding the strength to be in this moment. Fully in it. “You’re asking for more than just my body,” she whispered as he stared up, his head positioned between her thighs still waiting. “You’re asking me to trust you. To be here with you in the most exposed way possible.”

  He didn’t answer, but she could tell by his expression he understood. “So should I?” she asked nervously. “Am I safe here?”

  Suddenly he abandoned his position and moved like a panther up her body until he was eye to eye with her. His full weight rested on his arms as he stared down into her eyes. “You are safer with me than anywhere in the world. I won’t hurt you, and as long as I’m around, no one else will either.”

  “But you said I should run from you,” she challenged, swallowing hard against the intensity in his eyes.

  “Don’t,” he said simply. “Don’t run. Stay.”

  “And what happens tomorrow?” she whispered. “You warned me, you’re not a nice guy.”

  “I know,” he nodded. “But if I’m ever going to be, it’ll be with you. You’re safe with me.”

  She arched her back and lifted her body until she felt his firmness brush her thighs. “I changed my mind,” she smiled and watched his face fill with concern that she might be calling this off. “I want it just like this. You right where you are. Fill me, hold me, kiss me. Just like this.”