The Billion Dollar Bad Boy Read online

  She was shaking. Trembling, and she couldn’t stop. She wanted to say something, something cool and flippant to take charge of the conversation, take charge of the moment. But he was so close, the scent of him reminding her of what had happened between them in the limo. All that heat, that blinding pleasure …

  “What else can I do?” Her voice was uncertain, hoarse from an honesty she was unfamiliar with. “What else is there?”

  “You know.” His fingers moved along her jaw, cupping her cheek. “I can show you.”

  Of course she knew. He’d given her a taste back in the limo.

  What about the deal? What about James?

  His thumb brushed along her lower lip and sparks scattered through her, bright as the Milky Way.

  She had to get back on track here. She had to take charge. “Your brother,” she began.

  Donovan pressed his thumb against her mouth, only a slight increase in pressure, but it stopped the words dead. “No,” he said softly. “Leave it behind, Victoria. Just for now. Just for tonight.”

  “I can’t leave it behind.” Her voice didn’t sound like her own.

  “Yes, you can. I can show you how.”

  “There’s James …”

  Donovan’s hand fell away and she swore she could still feel the imprint of his thumb against her lips. Like he’d burned her, marked her indelibly with his fingerprint. “It’s up to you. I won’t force you.”

  She stared up at him, feeling weirdly like she was losing something. “I can’t,” she repeated and she didn’t know who she was trying to convince. Him or herself. “You know I can’t. I have a fiancé. And there’s the deal.”

  He said nothing. Only looked at her. And she felt like he was seeing through her. Like she was one of those buildings in a Hollywood movie set, all facade with nothing behind it.

  There is something behind it. You know there is.

  “If you want to find out what else there is,” he said. “Come and find me.”

  Then he stepped away.

  “Mr. Morrow.”

  He turned.

  “Donovan.”

  And vanished into the crowd.

  Victoria stood there staring after him, her heartbeat unnaturally loud, the blood effervescing in her veins. Fizzing like Champagne. She could still feel his teeth against her earlobe, the touch of his lips against hers.

  Come and find me.

  She couldn’t, of course she couldn’t. She had to close this deal. That was more important. And then there was James. The man she was going to marry. The get-out-of-jail-free card was a one-shot thing and she’d used it.

  Leave it behind. Just for tonight.

  Victoria turned from the shifting crowd, leaning against the bar, having to catch her breath as a wave of something hot and intense pulsed through her. Longing.

  Why couldn’t she do this? Why couldn’t she leave it behind? Just for one night. Surely one night wouldn’t matter? Surely it wouldn’t hurt? There really wasn’t any time pressure with the deal, only herself and her own impatience.

  She could have one night, couldn’t she?

  The music throbbed, the sound of the crowd swirling like smoke. Belatedly she took a quick scan around to see if anyone had spotted her and Donovan together but no one was looking in her direction. No one had seen.

  Victoria took a couple of steps toward the end of the bar, where it was slightly quieter, fumbling in her purse for her phone. Bringing it out and punching in a number.

  It rang for a while before a familiar voice answered, sounding thick and sleepy. “Victoria?”

  Her fingers tightened on the hard metal of the phone. “Hi, James. I’m sorry, I know it’s late there …”

  “Is everything okay? You sound like you’re at a party.”

  “I’m fine.” Why was she calling him? What on earth did she mean to say? “I just … I used it. I used the ‘get out of jail free’ card.”

  There was a silence at the other end of the phone. Then he said, “Good.” And he didn’t sound upset or angry. Or worried. Or even curious. “Is that all?”

  Victoria stared at the crowd, dancing and laughing, talking and drinking. Having fun. Leaving it all behind, just for the night. “No,” she said hoarsely. “That’s not all. I want to use it again.”

  Another silence. Longer this time.

  “Victoria,” James said, and he didn’t sound sleepy this time. “Here’s the thing.” And there was another pause. “You see … I’ve met someone.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  “I didn’t intend for it to happen. I mean, we didn’t intend for it to happen. But it has and … I’m sorry. I’ve been meaning to tell you.” Another pause. “This wedding … I don’t think I can marry you after all.”

  The crowd shifted and swirled, and it felt as if a weight she hadn’t realized was pressing down on her had been taken away and there was all this room to expand. To breathe.

  She knew she should be thinking of her father because he would be disappointed. He’d been the one to introduce her to James and had encouraged her to make it official. Makes good business sense, he’d told her. But she wasn’t. All she could think about was Donovan.

  I can show you …

  “Victoria?” James sounded worried. “I’m sorry. I never wanted to hurt—”

  “It’s okay,” she interrupted. “I’m okay.”

  And she was. Even though her hands were trembling.

  Because it wasn’t disappointment that was making them shake.

  It was anticipation.

  Come and find me, he’d said. If you want to find out what more there is.

  Well, she wanted to find out. Tonight.

  *

  He didn’t expect her to follow him. But then he should have known she never did anything he expected.

  He was near the dance floor, delivering more smooth assurances about Jax’s engagement to a group of doubters, when Victoria appeared out of the crowd, coming toward him.

  The blonde his brother had pointed out earlier was dancing sinuously nearby, casting hopeful glances at him from underneath her lashes, but he barely even noticed her.

  She wasn’t looking at him the way Victoria was looking at him.

  As if all the other men in the club didn’t exist. As if the entire club didn’t exist.

  He hadn’t been looked at like that for a very, very long time. If ever.

  The people he was talking to disappeared, the blonde fading into insignificance, the crowd falling away.

  She moved with elegant determination, skirting the knots of people standing and chatting and the gyrating dancers. The look on her face was serene, but as she got closer, he noticed the hunger in her eyes, the glitter of desire, and what looked like uncertainty. Nervousness.

  A vulnerability only he could see.

  He couldn’t remember the last time he’d wanted anyone so badly.

  Donovan excused himself from the people he was talking to and stepped away, trying to get a grip on the desire that had broken free and was currently turning him inside out.

  All he’d intended when he’d reached for her earlier was to distract her from going to Jax, to deflect her attention. But he’d realized his mistake the second he’d touched her, the moment her scent had invaded his senses. He hadn’t been able to stop himself from taking a bite out of her, wanting to taste her skin just one more time. And then, like she always seemed to be doing, she’d taken him by surprise. Turning her head to kiss him as if she’d been doing it all her life.

  And as her mouth had met his, he’d known he wouldn’t be able to walk away from this again. That he was at the mercy of their chemistry. At the mercy of the unexpected fire that lay under her hard, cold businesswoman exterior.

  He wanted to strip that woman away like he had in the limo. He wanted to find Victoria underneath it.

  She smiled as she approached him, the smile of a woman totally in charge of herself and the situation. But he wasn’t fooled. He knew that was on
ly a mask. And he had to put his hands in his pockets to stop himself from reaching for her, stripping the mask from her there and then.

  “So Mr. Morrow,” she said calmly, as if she hadn’t kissed him not ten minutes earlier. As if he hadn’t felt her body tremble between his hands. “I’ve been thinking about your earlier offer. I’ve decided I’d like to take you up on it.”

  He didn’t let himself look satisfied or pleased or anything so mundane. He met her gaze, gone dark in the dim light of the club. “What about your fiancé?”

  “Oh, that.” She glanced down at her hands where they rested against her stomach, clutching onto her little beaded purse. Then with a certain amount of deliberation, she slid off the gaudy diamond ring she wore and put it into the purse. “I don’t have a fiancé anymore.”

  Christ. Had she done that for him? “Victoria, I—”

  “He told me he’d found someone else,” she interrupted, her gaze direct. As if daring him to argue. “So don’t worry. I didn’t throw a relationship away for a one-night stand.”

  “You didn’t love him.” It wasn’t a question, more an affirmation. Because he knew, without a single doubt, that if this woman loved someone she’d never throw it away for anything.

  “No. And he didn’t love me.”

  He saw it then, the slight glitter of anger. Of pain. And he knew what it meant because he’d felt it, too, a long time ago. The sting of a rejection you weren’t expecting to feel.

  “You can change your mind,” he said, making it clear.

  “No.” The word was hard, certain. “You told me you’d show me what else there is. And I want it. Just tonight. Just once.”

  He wanted to touch her then but there were too many people around, so all he said was, “Come with me.”

  He didn’t wait to see if she obeyed, only turned and began moving down toward the back of the club, where it was dark. Where there were corners and enough shadows to hide anyone and what they did from view.

  There were lots of people around, in alcoves and on couches. Talking, laughing, and drinking. He kept moving, past the people to where it got much darker, where the beat of the music became muffled. A corridor snaked away to another part of the club, a deep, shadowed recess to one side of it.

  Donovan turned and Victoria was right behind him. Thank Christ. He reached for her, pulling her into the recess then pushing her up against the wall.

  As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he could see her pale face looking up at him.

  “Here?” There was only the slightest tremor in her voice. “Really, Mr. Morrow. I had no idea you had a thing for public sex. Though I guess it shouldn’t surprise me knowing—”

  “No.” He lifted a hand and took her chin between his thumb and forefinger. Tipped her head back. “No more. You don’t have to be the businesswoman tonight. You don’t have to be Ms. de Winter just like I don’t have to be Mr. Morrow. Tonight you’re Victoria and I’m Van. Understand?”

  Her gaze was dark, holding his. “Okay.”

  “Say it.”

  “What?”

  “My name, Victoria.”

  Her throat moved, her attention drifting to his mouth. “Van …”

  The sound was a whisper but he heard it. Nothing had ever sounded so erotic.

  He let her chin go, pressing her against the wall, his hands sliding up beneath her dress, cupping her butt in his palms. She gave a little gasp, her purse dropping to the floor with a thud, her hands coming to rest against his chest for balance. “God. No one will see us, will they?”

  “If they do, they’ll only see my back. They won’t see you.”

  She looked up at him, her fingers curling into his shirt. Holding on. “Show me. Show me what else there is.”

  So he bent his head, took her mouth, and let the taste of her detonate inside of him. She made a hungry sound deep in her throat, her fingers curling even tighter in his shirt, her mouth opening beneath his, kissing him back like she was starving for him.

  Fuck, he’d never been so hard. So ready for a woman in all his life.

  He’d told her he’d show her there was more than business between them. More than power games and challenges. More than masks. And he was going to show her now.

  He let his fingers slide beneath those lacy panties of hers, over the silky skin of her bare butt. Then between her thighs, brushing the outer folds of her sex lightly.

  She trembled and kissed him harder, another sound escaping her as he slid his fingertips further between her thighs, nudging the entrance to her body, finding her slick, hot.

  Victoria broke the kiss, panting. “Van … God …” Her head tipped forward, her forehead resting against his chest.

  He bent, brushed his mouth against the sensitive skin beneath her ear, feeling her shudder. “I’ve been thinking about you all evening, did you know that?” he whispered, dark and dirty. “About what we did in the limo. About how you tasted. About how much I’d like to slide my hands between your legs and play with your clit. Make you come in the middle of the bar. Make you bite that beautiful lip of yours to stop from screaming, to stop people knowing exactly what I’m doing to you.”

  She turned her head again like she had at the bar, as if she knew exactly the distance between their mouths and how to close it, her lips brushing his. “So stop talking about it and do it,” she murmured, hoarse and husky, meeting him even now. Even here.

  He smiled against her mouth. “Challenge accepted. But if you want it, you have to do what I say. Do you think you can do that, Victoria? Do you think you can obey me? Let me have the control?”

  She took a shuddering breath. “Yes.”

  “Prove it to me then. Hands above your head.”

  There was no hesitation in her as she did as she was told, her gaze on his. The posture made her back arch, lifting her breasts so they pushed against his chest, her hips tilting, pressing against his aching groin. Jesus, the sight took his breath away, making him so hard he didn’t think he was going to make this last as long as he wanted it to.

  “Good,” he murmured. “Christ, so good. You look beautiful like that.” He shifted his hand, pushing his fingers between her thighs, and she groaned as he eased one inside the slick heat of her, pleasure flashing across her face. “Is that me, Victoria? Are you wet because of me?”

  “Yes … Of … of course it’s you.”

  “And are you ready for me now?”

  “S-stop talking, Van.”

  He laughed, brushed a kiss over her jaw, then covered her mouth with his. She opened immediately, tasting of sweetness and wine and abandon. Delicious. He kissed her harder as he eased another finger inside her, his thumb brushing over her clit. Doing exactly what he’d told her he’d do.

  Victoria shuddered, another of those soft, throaty moans escaping her. “Now …,” she murmured against his mouth. “I need you … now …”

  “Where do you need me?”

  “Inside me. Right now.”

  He moved his thumb over her clit again, teasing her. “Oh no, princess. I’m the one in control, remember? I give the orders.”

  “Bastard.” Her voice was breathless, panting. “I told you not to call me princess.”

  Oh God, she was going to make him crazy. Already she was making him crazy. “Say please, beautiful girl.” Another swipe of his thumb, stripping more of that mask away from her. “Beg me for it.”

  “Please,” she said thickly. And her eyes weren’t dark now but glittering in the dim light. “I want your cock, Van. Please.”

  Holy Christ, and he thought he was the one teaching her. He thought he was the one in control. But that one word and he knew he wasn’t. He knew she was turning his own weapons back on him.

  And why he should like that he had no idea, but he did.

  He took his hands from her body, ignoring the soft sound of protest she made. Dug into his back pocket for his wallet and the condoms he always kept in it. Extracting one took less than a second and opening up his pants and pr
otecting himself another second more.

  Then he was lifting her, sliding her dress up and wrapping her legs around his hips, pinning her to the wall, easing forward, pushing into the wet heat of her body.

  She gave a shaky cry, her body arching. She felt so good. Tight and hot, like she had in the limo. Except this time her legs were wrapped around him, gripping him for dear life, her hands still raised above her head. “You’re so good today,” he murmured, brushing his mouth along the bare skin of her neck. “I like hearing you cry out. Do it again.” And he tilted his hips and thrust, a hard, high movement that pressed her even more firmly against the wall, tearing another groan from her. “Again.” Another thrust, deeper this time, and slower, making her arch, her fingers curling into fists.

  Her eyes were shut tight and it wasn’t what he wanted. He wanted to see her, see that warm, flushed woman again. The woman he suspected she never let anyone see. Anyone but him.

  “Look at me,” he demanded. “Look at me, Victoria.”

  Her throat moved and her eyes opened, staring into his.

  He kept watching her, moving faster, pleasure uncurling up his spine, taut and electric. He could see it taking her, too, her pupils dilating to black in the shadows.

  This was too much. Too intense. It was going to swallow him whole.

  A flicker of panic crossed her features, like she’d felt the same thing at exactly the same moment. “Donovan …”

  “I’ve got you,” he whispered, letting her see she wasn’t the only one feeling this. That she wasn’t alone. “Trust me. I’ve got you.”

  She was trembling, her gaze on his as if she was drowning and he was the only thing keeping her afloat, the vulnerability laid bare in her eyes made everything in him draw tight. “People will hear.”

  “No,” he whispered. “They won’t.” And he lifted a hand, covered her mouth. Leaned in close. “Scream, Victoria. Scream yourself hoarse.”

  Then he thrust hard and her head went back against the wall as the climax hit her, her mouth opening beneath his hand, her scream vibrating against his palm. And he didn’t stop, moving harder and faster, the pleasure building, becoming too much. When her teeth sunk into his palm he turned his face into her neck, stifling his own cry as the orgasm ripped him into tiny little pieces.