Going Down Easy (Billionaire Bad Boys 1)

He’d planned to pick her up at her apartment door but instead found her waiting downstairs at exactly the time he said he’d arrive.

She was dressed in a white dress with an off-the-shoulder contrasting black band; the hem fell high in the front, revealing her gorgeously tanned legs and black sandal heels. The dress skimmed her luscious, mouth-watering curves. And her hair fell over her shoulder in long curls, making his fingers itch to wrap themselves around the long strands and tug while he kissed her bright red mouth.

She took his breath away. Every long minute he’d waited to see her this weekend had been worth it, and as he climbed out of the car to greet her, a single red rose in his good hand, he needed a second to steady his breathing and calm his sudden, burning need.

“Lexie,” he said, walking up to her. She glanced up at him and smiled. “You look gorgeous.”

A pretty blush stained her cheeks. “Thank you.” She reached up and straightened his bow tie. “You dress up nicely yourself.”

She slid her hand down his lapel, and it was all he could do not to grab her small wrist, pull her against him, and let her feel the depths of his desire.

He extended the rose, the same color as her lips, the flower the only means he could come up with to convey he was glad she’d agreed to join him.

“Thank you. It’s beautiful.”

“Not as exquisite as you.” He couldn’t stop the compliments, and when she smiled radiantly, he didn’t want to. “Are you ready to go?” he asked in a roughened voice.

She nodded.

He held out a hand, and she placed her palm against his. A shock of electricity raced through him at that simple touch, and he curled his fingers possessively around hers, leading her to the open car door. He helped her into the backseat.

The driver sped away from the curb, and he studied this beautiful woman sitting next to him in charged silence. Her makeup was heavier than usual, thick lashes fluttering over big blue eyes, her soft, pillowy lips beckoning to him.

“How was your weekend?” he finally managed to ask.

She turned toward him and paused before answering. “Not so great, to be honest.”

“I’m a good listener.” He offered her an ear because he was truly interested in her life.

“It’s just… I went home last night to pick up my dress. And my mother was holed up in her room, unresponsive. Completely unaware that I was even in the room. I was shattered, but my sister didn’t seem to be affected at all.” She shook her head, her eyes shimmering with tears. “Forget it. I don’t want to ruin our night by starting it on a down note.” She turned her head, glancing out the window.

“Hey. Don’t apologize or turn away. I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want to hear.” He lifted her hand, placing it inside his, running his thumb over her soft skin.

“Thank you. For some reason, I thought you would understand.”

He hesitated before answering, then decided fuck it. He might as well offer her something in return for her honesty.

“I get it. I don’t have a relative who suffers from depression but I … I suffer from—” He stammered and wanted to take back the initial, tentative words that now stuck in his throat painfully. Though he’d thought he’d come to terms with this part of himself, embarrassment rushed through him now.

“I know.” She squeezed his hand in hers, the silence understanding, not judgmental. “I know.” She met his gaze, her expression warm and full of acceptance.

He didn’t need to elaborate or use the word anxiety, because after only a short time in his employ, she did understand. She’d seen things firsthand. Walked in on him pulling out an anxiety medication. Remade his coffee when he couldn’t drink it for reasons no one but him would understand. Put his clothes away in his closet exactly how he’d have done it himself.

Nothing he did or said had driven her away.

Before he could formulate a reply, the car came to a stop outside the venue in the financial district downtown. Formerly the headquarters of a major bank, the facility was now a landmark building in the National Historic Register, and a lineup of black Town Cars and drivers surrounded them.

“We can talk later,” he said, although he selfishly hoped there’d be less talking and more other things before the night was through.

“Thank you.” She leaned close, treating him to an up-close-and-personal whiff of her scent, one that was new to her but with a hint of the sweetness he always associated with this woman.

And as she pressed her lips to his cheek, his cock, which he’d managed to contain, now pressed hard and insistently against his pants. Thank God his jacket would cover the tenting or he wouldn’t be able to get out of the car.

She pulled back, then giggled, the sound light and airy and perfect to break the serious moment and put them in a better mood for the night.

Reaching over, she rubbed her fingers against his cheek. “Lipstick,” she murmured.

“Cover me in it any time,” he said in return.