The Billionaire's Claim: Obsession

The jet engines hum, bringing us closer to Kauai.

The smell of Elizabeth is distracting. It keeps dragging me back to the past, when I thought we had something genuine. My mind brings up an evening on a beach, where we cuddled under a blanket, while I brought her to orgasm with my hands, her teeth clenched so she didn’t cry out under the clear night sky as she rocked against my fingers.

I taste the salt, the gritty texture of sand against my back, her hot, slick juices on my hands. My cock swells, pushing against the front of my pants, and I shift in my seat, furious at this current reaction to an old memory.

I swivel my head, placing a hand on her cheek to move her because she needs to cut this shit out. It isn’t going to work. But she places a hand over mine, her eyelashes fluttering, and nuzzles my palm.

The old gesture punches me in the chest, leaving a hitch right under my breastbone.

Fuck.

I carefully pull my hand back, causing her to whimper softly. My jaw clenched, I turn away, forcing myself to breathe evenly. Her reaction means nothing. Her making me horny is natural. She’s a stunning woman, and I haven’t had a decent fuck in a while.

But that doesn’t mean I should stoop to being petty. I take a calming breath and leave her head on my shoulder.

Like I said, I can be the bigger person.

I’m not like her.

Chapter Twenty-Four

Dominic

“We’re sorry, but your rooms aren’t ready yet.” A clerk in a Hawaiian shirt and khakis half smiles, half cringes. A shiny golden nametag on his chest reads Don. “If you don’t mind, we can offer you complimentary drinks while you wait.”

Before I can speak, Elizabeth says, “How long is it going to take?”

Don’s gaze flicks to the computer screen, his index finger twitching on the spacebar. “Maybe an hour or so?”

I scowl. Didn’t Brian tell the hotel what time we were arriving? He knows how much I hate waiting.

Elizabeth places a hand on my wrist. The touch surprises me, but it lessens my annoyance, reminding me I’m not alone and she too is being inconvenienced.

She checks her watch, a piece as slim and elegant as she is. “We can’t wait that long, especially if you can’t guarantee they’ll be ready in an hour. Give us a temporary room to change and hold our bags. We’ll check in later.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

The man gives her a relieved smile then leads us to two separate rooms on the first level with the master key card.

“See you in the lobby?” she says, propping her door open with a hand.

I nod.

“It’s a beach party, so dress accordingly,” she says. “Brian should’ve packed everything you need.”

She slips into her room with her carry-on, and I go into mine.

It’s one of the most depressing spaces I’ve ever seen, and I saw some doozies growing up. The walls are the color of dried dog poo, the carpet threadbare. The curtains started out thick but are worn in a few places and look more tired than a hooker at dawn. No wonder the hotel uses it as a changing area for guests. I wouldn’t pay a penny to stay here.

After tossing my carry-on on the bed, I unzip it and find everything I need for the party. I change, stuffing my travel clothes in the bag. A light blue shirt reads I left my heart in Hawaii in a funky white font. A yellow sticky note has Kristen’s neat handwriting.

&nb

sp; I had to get it for you for the trip. Enjoy. And think about what I said re: Liza Elizabeth!

Shaking my head, I toss the memo in the trash. My sister tries too hard to see the best in people, not realizing some are beyond redemption.

So Elizabeth is irredeemable now?