The Billionaire Next Door

“Assuming you’d have answered my call. And I wouldn’t have blamed you if you didn’t.” He ran his hand down the length of his beautiful tie. “I should have told you about me earlier, but I liked the anonymity. I wanted to just be me with you.”

“So you really thought I was a gold digger, huh?”

“Maybe.”

“Definitely.”

He shrugged. “Most of the women I’ve been with are fiscally minded. And not because they’re in banking.”

“Your poor choices, not my fault. Dear God, I don’t want your money. Sure, I’ve got some problems with my job situation and my mother, but I wouldn’t solve them by using you. I liked being with you.”

He frowned. “Liked…past tense.”

“Come on, Sean. You left and didn’t look back this week. And besides, what do we have in common?”

His eyes traced over her face. “I thought of you the whole time. I wanted to call you, but the deal I’m working on is complex and at a critical—”

“People make time for what they want to do. They make the time.” She shook her head and wrapped her arms around her waist. “It’s okay, though. I mean—”

“I also didn’t know what to say. I just didn’t know how to tell you I missed you. I haven’t missed anyone in a long time. I’m not used to it.”

Lizzie’s body stilled until her heart barely beat. The apology she expected. The revelation was a surprise.

“You mind if I sit down?” he said as he wrenched his tie off altogether and stuffed it in his jacket pocket.

“Ah, no…please do.”

His big body sank into her sofa and he crossed his legs, ankle on knee. Stretching one of his arms out over the top of the cushions, he looked not just tired but depleted.

In the silence, she tried to see past the fancy suit and the big-shot job and the net worth to the man she had been with before.

Because she’d really liked the person she’d watched playing Frisbee.

She truly had.

***

Chapter Ten

As Sean sat on the sofa, he had to hold on to the back of the damn thing to keep himself in place. He’d been fighting the urge to hug Lizzie since the moment she’d peaked out from between the blinds, and now that it looked as if she’d partially forgiven him, he wanted her against him so badly.

Plus she looked adorable in her baggy blue sweatshirt and those loose men’s boxer shorts.

A surreptitious glance at her smooth legs had him tightening his grip on the couch. Oh, man, he really didn’t trust himself to stay away from her. He was feeling the effects of a week of not sleeping on top of his manic rush to the airport, the hour-long flight and the drive into Southie.

So he was weak right now. Or rather, his hold on himself was weak.

What he wanted was to reconnect with her skin to skin and to hell with the talking. But he respected her too much to try and seduce her, and besides, it was clear she was wary of him, as well she might be. Hell, he was wary of himself. Nothing about this thing with her was making any sense to him, and when he felt off-kilter, he tended to get more aggressive, not less.

Letting his head go lax, he eased back into the cushions and eyed her from beneath his lids. She was pretty, her hair all disheveled, her face clean and a little shiny. She reminded him of things that were real, not pretension.

“You look exhausted,” she said.

“I am.”

“When does your plane leave?”

“Whenever I tell it to.”

Her eyes dropped away. “Oh…yes, of course.”

He waited for her to say something else. When she didn’t, he realized he hadn’t reached her far enough. His apology had been accepted, yes. But there was no going back.

So he should head out.

Sean sat up and put his hands on his knees, feeling as if there were an anvil on his chest. “Well, I—”

“Have you eaten?”

“Ah…no.”

“Would you like to? Because I owe you one. You made me breakfast.”

Okay…maybe there was a little light at the end of the tunnel. “I would love something. Thank you.”

She nodded once and turned away.

“Lizzie?”

Her eyes bounced around the living room, avoiding his. “Yes?”

He wanted to keep pressing the apology stuff until she not only believed him but forgave him for having had so little faith in her.

“I don’t care what it is. The breakfast, I mean. I’ll love whatever you give me.”

She nodded and turned away. As he watched her go, he let his head fall back again and he closed his eyes. Just for a moment.

He wasn’t sure what woke him up or how long he’d been asleep, but it was still dark out when he came to. As he shifted and looked around, his neck was stiff and his jacket was wrinkled. There was a quilt around his legs as well as a plate with a sandwich on it and a glass of water on the table next to him.

He downed the water, ate the sandwich and went to find Lizzie.

The door to her bedroom was ajar and he pushed it open a little farther. Oh, man, just where he wanted her to be: curled on her side, her hair on her pillow, the room dim and cool.

He was such a bastard, he thought. Because he was going to get into that bed with her.

He quietly kicked off his wingtips and got out of his jacket then went over to the side he’d slept on before. As he lifted the covers, he eased his body in, but there was no way his two-hundred-and-ten-pound self wasn’t making a dent in the mattress. As he got horizontal, Lizzie was sucked into the hole he made, coming flush against him.

She was warm with sleep, a little ball of sumptuous ember, and he pulled her against his chest. As his head went down on the pillow, it found the crook of her fragrant neck.

He didn’t mean to kiss her there. It just happened when she made a noise deep in her throat and undulated against him. As she arched, her skin met his lips.

It was a match to gasoline situation for them both.

They went body-to-body in a single surge, melding together through his clothes and hers. As he found her mouth, he kissed her deeply, taking what she offered even though he had no idea where they stood. The only thing he knew as they devoured each other was that his curious desperation for her was his undoing.

He broke away from her only long enough to split his shirt down the middle, and as the buttons flew, she took her own top off and shrugged out of her boxers.

He stopped with his hands on his belt and cursed. “I didn’t bring any…”

“I got some in case you ever…um…we ever…”

His relief came out as a hoarse groan and he quickly ditched his trousers, tossing them to the floor as if they were trash.

“Where?” he groaned as he landed on top of her and pushed her legs apart with his own.

As she stretched out an arm to open a drawer on the bedside table, he latched onto her breast. There was a clatter as something hit the floor and then she was pressing a foil packet into his hand.

“I have no patience tonight,” he warned against her nipple. Then he lifted his hips from hers and ripped the wrapper open with his teeth.

Her eyes were heated as they locked on to his body. “I don’t want your patience.”

“Good.” He spit a piece of foil out, covered himself and then took her in a rush.

They both shouted and her nails scored his back as a rolled over her, through her. He absorbed the sensations of her grabbing on to him and then he let loose until he was heaving on top of her, riding her hard, driving them both into a frenzy.

***

Lizzie was mindless underneath Sean’s rhythm, nothing but the sensations in her body. Just as he growled low in his throat and his body tensed from shoulder to thigh, she seized up again and arched into him. They shuddered together, his arms shooting around her and squeezing tight.

It was a while before either one of them could catch their breath and he rolled off her slowly as if he didn’t want to leave. “You okay?”