The Billionaire Next Door

As she locked her door, she listened to his heavy footsteps going up the stairs and then moving around above her. All things considered, it was probably better for the night to end like this. She could see herself getting attached to him and getting hurt.

It still was a letdown though.

Unsettled and vaguely depressed, she took a quick shower, turned the temperature to low on the AC unit and got into bed.

The lightning came hours later, flashing on the other side of the Venetian blinds, startling her out of sleep. As her heart rate slowed, she listened for the thunder, and after a long pause, a crack dissolved into a bass rumble.

She reached for the remote to the AC and shut the thing off so she could hear better. She’d always loved storms, especially the—

What was that?

She frowned and looked at the ceiling. An odd noise was coming from upstairs, some kind of…Well, she didn’t know what that was. She sat up, as if that would help her ears do their job, and held her breath.

There it was again. A low, uneven sound.

Slipping from bed, she walked out into her living room and got really quiet as she absorbed the sounds in the duplex.

Whatever it had been seemed to have stopped.

Except then the next burst of lightning came, and in the dead space before the thunder, she heard what had to be a moan. She opened her door, stepped into the foyer, and put her hand on the staircase’s railing. When the low, aching groan came once more, she jogged up and knocked.

“Sean?”

Thunder rolled through the house like a wrecking ball, making the walls vibrate and the darkness of the stairwell seem horror-movie oppressive. Then a hoarse yell came through the door.

She tossed out all propriety and tried the knob. As it was unlocked, she shoved hard and burst into the apartment.

Sean was on the couch, his big body contorted, his boxers twisted around his hips, one arm rigid and gripping a cushion. His head was thrown back, his neck straining, his mouth open as he breathed in ragged pulls. Next to him on the floor was the backpack full of books.

She rushed over and put her hand on his shoulder. “Sean…wake up.”

He shot out of the nightmare like a bullet from a gun, sitting up in a rush, shouting loudly. As he swiveled his head toward her, his eyes were stark wild and the moment he saw her, he cowered back, lifting both arms to cover his head as if she were going to strike him.

“No…” His voice didn’t sound at all like the one she knew. “No,please .”

“Sean?” She touched his thick bicep only to have him flinch away and tremble as lightning flickered through the room.

Another crack of thunder broke out, so loud it was as if the house next door had been struck. Both of them jumped. Then Sean dropped his arms and looked around as if he wasn’t sure what had happened.

“You had a nightmare.”

His eyes went to her face and locked on her as if he were using the sight of her to pull himself out of where he’d been. As he stared up at her, he was breathing hard, the sheen of sweat on his bare chest catching the reflection of yet more bolts of lightning.

He moved so fast, she couldn’t have pulled back if she’d wanted to. His hands clamped on either side of her face and he brought her down hard to his mouth.

He kissed her with erotic aggression, the pent-up energy in his body tunneling into her and lighting her on fire through the shifting contact of their mouths. As she gasped, his tongue shot into her mouth and he pulled her on top of him until she felt him from her collarbones to her ankles. Moving fast and hot, he devoured her, holding her with heavy hands, thrusting his hips up into her so she felt his erection.

When he pulled back, they were both panting.

“Leave now,” he said roughly. “If you’re going to.”

She should go, she really should. She’d never been with someone outside of a relationship, and she and Sean definitely didn’t have one of those.

Except this moment, this raw, incendiary moment, was too enticing to walk away from.

Sean lowered his hands and held out his arms as if wanting to make sure he wasn’t forcing her in any way. “Lizzie, make up your mind. And do it now.”

She shook her head. “I don’t want to go. I’m not going to stop this—”

He was all over her in the next heartbeat, kissing her like a man possessed, like a man who was starving. His mouth and tongue devastated her, and in the back of her mind, she had some dim thought that he was very good at this, had no doubt had a lot of practice.

Her heart ached at the passing realization, but the sting didn’t linger. She refused to let it. She had him here and now and he was…on fire.

His thigh pushed between hers and his need rubbed on her lower belly, a stunning length that left her shivering. As the storm swept in and the rain came down, he stripped off her shirt and pulled her up his body so he could take one of her breasts into his mouth.

She cried out and arched her back, feeling his hands grab on to the backs of her thighs and squeeze. It was impossible to keep up with him and unthinkable to slow him down and unbearable to imagine him ever stopping. Somehow her panties disappeared, probably because he ripped the side apart.

And then he was touching her.

As she cried out, his hips surged up and he cursed in a low, desperate sound, as if the feel of her was almost too much for him. It certainly was too much for her. She shattered apart, going rigid on top of his bare chest, her body torquing wildly as she ed. His mouth latched onto her throat and he sucked hard as he helped her ride out the sensations, his hand between her legs keeping her going.

When it was done, she collapsed against him, her face falling into his neck. She was limp as he rolled her over and she should have been embarrassed as she lay sprawled on the couch, but she just closed her eyes in bliss.

She felt the sofa wiggle as he stood up. Heard the shift of cloth as he took off his boxers. Then there was a soft tearing sound.

He stretched out on top of her, splitting her thighs with his knees. His skin was griddle hot, his body flexed and straining with his need to finish.

At the first blunt brush of his arousal, her eyes popped wide.

“You’re protected,” he said. “I took care of it.”

Her lids settled and she ran her hands up his thick shoulders. As his hips began rocking against her, he stared over her head, his face dark with concentration and barely leashed energy.

He went slowly, but even still she had to wince. In spite of how careful he was, and even though her body wanted him, the discomfort made her stiffen beneath him.

He stopped. Retreated a little. “Lizzie?”

Before he could say anything else, she blurted, “It’s been a while for me.”

As he looked down at her, his eyes became remote. “How long?”

“A while.” When he just stared at her, she whispered, “A year or two.”

Now he was the one wincing.

With an abrupt shift, he lifted off her body, pulled a throw blanket over her and sat down at the far end of the couch. Putting his elbows on his knees, he rubbed his face then reached between his legs. There was a snapping sound as he pulled off the protection.

In the silence that followed, Lizzie tucked the blanket in tight to her neck and stared at him. She was pretty sure why he’d stopped. The question was whether he’d be honest.

“I’m sorry.” He rubbed his face some more. “I don’t want to use you for sex, just to get rid of that dream.”

As if that was the only reason he’d wanted to be with her.Ouch .

And damn, she hated being right. Good thing they’d stopped when they had.

She sat up, holding the blanket to her breasts and thinking she had to get out of this apartment fast. Thank heavens her T-shirt was right on the floor next to the couch. She picked it up and managed to get it on even though her hands were shaking. Where were her panties—oh. They were unwearable.

She got to her feet and wrapped the blanket around her hips, prepared to leave without another word.

Except then he said, “Can I come with you?”

She looked over at him. “What do you mean?”

“Can I, ah…Can I sleep with you? As in sleep, sleep with you?” He glanced up at her. “God, that sounds lame.”