The Billionaire's Gamble

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s normal,” I say, shrugging even though he can’t see me. “I’m actually waiting for them to go to bed so I can go to the kitchen and get some food.”

I can practically see the shock on his face through the phone. “It’s that bad?”

“No, but after the day I’ve had I’d rather not deal with it.” His silence is heavy, and I don’t want him to apologize again. I just don’t, so I change the subject. “You’re pretty stealthy. It took me forever to realize the chip was even there.”

Nolan laughs. “I’ve been known to do some slight-of-hand. Comes in handy sometimes.”

“You do magic?”

“When I was younger. I learned some tricks to impress girls. Though once they saw my tricks they were less impressed.”

I roll my eyes. “I find that very hard to believe.”

“Trust me when I say I was no one’s fantasy in high-school.”

“Who’s to say you’re anyone’s fantasy now?” I counter.

I hear the smile in his voice and I know I’ve walked into the trap. “Tell me you didn’t think about me last night, and I’ll be convinced that I’m not.”

Arrogant bastard. “I didn’t.” Even I don’t believe myself.

He laughs, loud and long. “Right. I didn’t think about you last night either. I certainly didn’t think about you more than once, in many different ways.”

“Good,” I say, my mouth suddenly dry, my body heating up with his words, “I would hate to miss out on the fun by not being there. It was very considerate of you to hold back.”

The air in the room feels thick. I didn’t know it was possible to feel sexual tension over a phone call but I feel it now.

“It’s a pity I’m not there to show you what I wasn’t thinking.”

“Yes,” I say automatically, “it is.” I’m done being mad at him and that part of me that wants him is raring to life. The unfortunate part about not being at home is that I have no access to my vibrator. Dammit.

“Just listening to you,” he says, his voice rough. “I’m hard enough that it hurts.”

My breath catches in my throat, my body reacting to the sound of his voice, to the memory of exactly how hard he can be.

“I’ve actually been hard all day. Because I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

I slip my hand inside the pajama pants, shuddering as I slip a finger inside myself. With his voice in my ear it’s almost enough, I can almost pretend he’s here. “That sounds painful,” I say, more than a little breathless. “Wish there was something I could do.”

“You can tell me if you’re wet,” he says.

How does he know? “Yes.”

There’s a sound on the other end of the line, like a stifled groan. “How wet?”

“Enough to ruin the blankets,” I say, echoing his words from that night in the hotel. “I’m dripping for you.”

“You’re full of surprises, Dani,” he says quietly.

“I would hate to be boring.”

He laughs again. “You could never be that. Listen, you have no idea how much I don’t want to, but I have to go. But now that I have your number, I’ll talk to you soon, all right?”

“All right.”

“Goodnight, Dani.” His voice is all silk and velvet and delicious promise, and it makes me shudder.

“Goodnight, Nolan.”

The line goes dead and I drop the phone, fumbling with my hand to get it into my pants. The thought of what Nolan might do to me if he were here right now is too vivid, too immediate for me to do anything else. Screw finding food, this is the only thing I’ll be doing tonight.

9

Dani

There’s a banging on the door. Why on earth is there a banging on the door?

Bright sunshine blinds me as I open my eyes, and I’m confused by the fact that I’m not in my own bed. Wait, I’m at Kelly’s house. Right. And someone is knocking?

“Dani,” Kelly hisses outside. “Open up right now.”

She sounds desperate. I stagger out of the bed, nearly falling when my feet are tangled in the bedsheets. I open the door to Kelly looking pale and stunned. “The door wasn’t locked,” I say. “What’s going on? What time is it?”

“You have a…guest.”

“A guest?” I ask, my not-fully-awake brain trying to wrap around the words that she’s saying. “Shit, is there a photographer here?”

“No, no.” Kelly shakes her head quickly. “You just need to come downstairs.”

I give her a look. “Okay, well at least let me get dressed first.”

“No, now. Please. I wouldn’t say Jacob is happy about this person being here.”

That ratchets my anxiety up a notch. Who is this? Kelly starts walking away and I follow her. I hear a couple of voices in the kitchen, both masculine. But nothing prepares me for the sight when I come around the corner: Nolan sitting at my sister’s kitchen table.