The Billionaire's Secret: A BWWM Romance Mystery Read online

  "You're not."

  The way he said it, so direct, so forthright, made me pause. There was no way he was lying...but of course he was!

  "You should go," I told him.

  He crossed his arms over his chest. "I'll go if you want me to."

  I licked my lips. He was a cheating dog, why was this so hard? "Okay then," I said, trying to keep my voice from trembling. "Leave."

  "No."

  "What?"

  He shook his head. "I'm not leaving."

  My voice broke. "You said you would."

  He took a step closer to me. His eyes were so incredible. "I said I would leave if you wanted me to. You don't want me to."

  I could feel the heat rising off of his body in waves. It carried his scent with it. "You don't know that."

  "I do."

  "How?"

  He took another step forward, forcing me to look to at him. "Because you're biting your lip and you're breathing hard." He swiped his thumb over my lip, raking it down over my teeth and I hissed. "Because your eyes are as big as saucers and they're begging me to stay," he brushed a kiss across the place his thumb rested, "and tell you what you want to hear."

  I was finding it hard to say anything but echo his words. "And what do I want to hear?"

  He pulled back. "That I'm not a fucking cheater. On you or on anyone else."

  I barked out a laugh, short and bitter. "And how am I supposed to believe that?"

  "Because I am telling you. You said you needed to be able to trust me. Well, I am telling you that you can." He was getting closer, and I could feel my walls crumbling as he drew me in with those eyes. "I swear, Shay, there is only you."

  His lips were on my throat somehow. Every defense I usually had was faulty when it came to this man.

  "Ah, dammit Shay," he murmured, sending little thrills down my spine as he moved his lips up to my ear. "You've got me all mixed up. I'm not used to feeling so..." he trailed off in a sigh against my hair.

  I knew what he meant. "Vulnerable?"

  He pressed a kiss to my temple. "Yes. Vulnerable. Maybe that's it." He pulled back and rested his forehead on mine, so that all I could see were his eyes.

  "I'm trying here," he said. "Trying to do what you asked, be a gentleman," he swallowed hard, "give you time. But things keep getting fucked up in the meantime." He brushed his hand across my breast and I felt my nipple stiffen under his touch. Without meaning to, I arched my back and a faint glimmer of a smile twitched his lips. He ran his thumb back over the hardened pearl and his voice grew husky. "The longer I wait...," he bent and brushed his lips where his thumb had been, making me gasp, "...mmm...the more I'm afraid I'm going to lose you." He pulled back and I fell forward a little. I hadn't realized how hard I was pressing into him. His eyes blazed like lightning in a storm cloud. "I'm not sure if I can risk being a gentleman any longer."

  My skin was on fire where he had touched me. My heart hammered so loudly that he had to be able to hear it. But he stood there, stock still, and cast his eyes down, waiting.

  Waiting for me to tell him what I wanted.

  My fingers tingled, aching to touch him. At that moment, the last thing I wanted was for him to be a gentleman.

  Fuck taking time. I wanted him inside of me.

  Maybe I shifted, a little intake of breath. Hell, maybe he really was unnatural and could smell the change inside of me. But when I made up my mind, he knew, he knew. He snapped his eyes up from my feet and demanded, in a harsh, ragged whisper. "Tell me you're ready. "

  I bit my lip. It had been so long since someone touched me down there. I was practically whimpering with need. "I'm ready."

  I pressed my hands tightly to my sides to keep them from quivering and betraying me, but he was watching. He saw it.

  My fears and suspicions. My mistrust.

  Circling my wrist in his thumb and forefinger, he gently lifted my hand to his mouth and kissed the back of it. "There," he whispered, "See? I can still be a gentleman too. If that's what you want."

  I tried to answer, but it came out as nothing more than a little whimper. For a moment, desire won out and I lifted my lips to his.

  He caught my chin in his hand and tilted my face upward. Pressing his lips to mine, he waited. Leaving it up to me.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Are you crazy Shay? You're just going to believe him like that? How can you be so stupid...again?

  But my body wanted what it wanted. And as my lips parted of their own accord and our tongues met and mingled, the questions in my brain turned to him. Are you what you say you are? Can I trust you? Should I trust you?

  He growled low and pressed into me, pinning me between the cool glass of the counter and the heat of him. And as he pressed into me, I felt the demanding length of him, rock hard and urgent. He undulated then, rocking his hips against me, making me gasp.

  Maybe it was that sound I made. Maybe he felt how alert I was, stiffened and suspicious. But he pulled back just then, and looked at me, those heavy lids and foot-long lashes veiled with longing.

  I shivered and clutched myself. I was behaving like a tease, a high school virgin. What the hell was going on?

  "Shit, Shay," he growled. Then he took a step back. I watched him as he rolled his head from side to side, then shivered a little. "Okay then," he said, clenching his fists once and then releasing them. "I get it." A little smile quirked at the edge of his lips. "You know," he said, "I promised you that it would be good. And it will be, I stand by that. But maybe," he lowered his voice, "maybe right now I should show you how good it can be for just you, hmmm?"

  "What?" I was still reeling, my body and my mind locked in battle. I flushed with embarrassment.

  But when he put his hand on my leg, just resting it on the inside of my thigh, I flushed for a whole different reason.

  "Tell me," he said, brushing his hand upward. "Is this good?"

  I squirmed a little. The heat of his hand trailed outward in a slow burn inside of me. It did feel good. Even my brain could accept that much.

  I opened my legs wider and nodded. "Yes."

  He trailed his hand over the outside of my pants to cup his palm over my heat. I closed my eyes, feeling my brain slowly shut down, my inhibitions melting. But he touched my face. "Ah. Look at me. I need to see your eyes, Shay. I need to see that you're telling the truth when you say you like it." He moved his hand then, rubbing over the swollen flesh. "Open your eyes now."

  I bit my lip and looked upward, then caught my breath sharply to see his face so close to mine. When he had me locked in his gaze, he pressed upward insistently. I gasped and he silenced it with a kiss as I moaned into his mouth. "Is this good?" he asked, moving his hand rhythmically now.

  "Yes," I exhaled, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. The only thing my brain cared about now was that he didn't stop making me feel so good. My hips tilted up of their own accord and a soft thrumming began to sound in my veins.

  He moved his hand away and I couldn't help it. I hissed. He chuckled softly and tugged at my zipper. "Greedy girl," he rasped tightly, yanking down. I lifted my hips away from the counter allowing him to pull my pants to the floor. He dropped down kneeling and pressed a kiss to my inner thigh. "Still good, Shay?" he asked, peering up from between my legs.

  He looked like he knew the answer.

  His warm breath hit the cooled fabric of my panties and I blushed when I realized how soaked I was. "Yes," I moaned, quivering slightly.

  He inhaled sharply and his eyes darkened. Cupping his hands around my ass, he pulled me to his mouth. "Ah, god!" I gasped as his lips touched my singing nub. I was practically vibrating now. There was nothing between us but that fragile piece of damp fabric.

  "Let's get rid of these then, hmmm?" Liam said. The vibrations of his voice against me made me squirm sharply as he yanked my panties down. I heard the fabric tear but I didn't care. All I cared about was how close he was to my center, how little it would take for him to just reach out and touch me th
ere, love me there, there...right there....

  "Shit," he breathed as he tossed my panties over his shoulder. "Shay, you're gorgeous." With a growl, he lifted me again, depositing my bare ass on the counter. I brushed my hands through his coarse, close-cropped curls as he bent down between my legs again, and he smiled up at me. That devastating dimple nearly knocked me dead. "Are you still good?" he asked....

  Just before his flicked his tongue over my clit.

  I was so worked up that it nearly sent me sailing off the counter. "Yes!" I shrieked, though I had forgotten the question.

  "Good," he rumbled. He pressed the flat of his tongue against the whole of me, and then swirled his finger around the outside of my entrance. Finger, tongue, finger, tongue, - he alternated, dipping inside of me. He worked for a moment in perfect rhythm, before he moved his tongue up again, flicking and fingering me in turn. "God you taste better than I dreamed. So sweet, fuck, you're so sweet." He paused, spreading my legs wider, then growled out an animal sound, "Fuck being a gentleman, Shay. I don't think I could stop if I tried."

  I clutched the countertop, braced against his assault. "No," I hissed, "No stopping." I squeezed my eyes shut and yielded the last ounce of self-control that I possessed.

  He rumbled something fierce and spread my legs even wider, exposing the whole of me. I was on display to him just like the flowers in the case and fuck if he wasn't making me bloom. I felt myself begin to move in the rhythm of his tongue; hips rolling and pressing in time with each stroke of his finger. I felt myself open up. Something that had been closed a long time.

  "Oh my god, Liam," I cried. He was everywhere. Fingers, tongues, mouth, lips, every sensation a spark that added to the blaze that was burning up inside of me, threatening to consume me whole. I felt the shiver, the pause in the air while everything hung at the edge.

  And then the explosion.

  With a sharp, guttural cry, I surged upward and then collapsed back. He was right there, ready to catch me before I plummeted off of the counter and he held me tightly while I shuddered and quivered around his finger.

  As my breathing slowed and I dissolved against his chest, he pressed a kiss to my temple. I could hear his ragged breathing, feel the rock hard press of his need, but he only held me close until the last aftershock died away.

  He pulled back. "That's how good it can be," he said, slipping his finger out of me and trailing it up my stomach. I shivered, still unable to form words.

  With his other hand, he cupped my breast and gently squeezed. "This is for me," he teased, squeezing twice more.

  "That was...," I was still trying to find my powers of speech again. I failed. "Pretty good," I finally gasped. Little shockwaves were still traveling up my spine and I wanted to lie down.

  "Tough customer," he chucked darkly.

  "Umm," I moaned. "Satisfied customer."

  If I hadn't already had an orgasm, the sexy, cocky grin he smiled just then would have brought me right to the brink. No one had any right to be this handsome, it was absurd.

  But here he was. He existed and his fingers smelled like me. It was all too much.

  "Liam," I looked up at him. "What does this mean?"

  He cocked his head. "Mean? There's no deep meaning here, Shay. I wanted you. I've been wanting you. I still want you."

  I lay back in his arms a little, letting him cradle me. "I want you too. You'll tell me the truth, the whole truth, from now on?"

  His face darkened. "If you want the whole truth, I'll tell it to you."

  "Thank you," I swallowed.

  "You're sure you want it?"

  I looked up at him sharply. "Yes, of course I do."

  "So ask me," he said. "If you have a question, then just, please, do me the courtesy of asking me instead of running off or slinging insults. I promise I will give you an answer."

  I swallowed again. The veiled threat - that I may not like the answer - hung in the air. But he had promised. "Why did you leave Longwood?"

  He looked at me, anger making his eyes snap. "You already know this."

  I pressed my lips together. "Because Lily called."

  "Yes."

  "That's your answer?" I slid off the counter onto my jelly legs.

  "What more do you want?"

  "Something, Liam. Give me something."

  "Okay, you want the truth? I'm telling it to you. Right now," he thundered. "Whether you believe me or now, you're it for me Shay. The only one I want. But if Lily ever calls and needs help, I'll go to her. That's just how it has to be." He spun and started pacing like a caged wildcat. "That doesn't mean I'm fucking her or in love with her or whatever deep meaning you want to attach to it. It's just my reality. Something I have to do."

  I clenched my fists. The afterglow of what he had just done to me was still sounding through my body and now he was telling me he would go to her? Over me? And that was that?

  "Okay," I told him evenly. "If you're not fucking her," I grabbed my pants off the floor, feeling ridiculous. I was still soaked with his love. I couldn't believe we were having this argument now. "Then I want to meet her." It sounded completely reasonable to me. "Clearly she's someone special to you. Then she should be special to me."

  His eyebrows slammed together. "No."

  I felt a little explosion of rage in my right temple. "Why not?"

  "You can't. It's not a good time. For her."

  His fingers still smell like me, and he's telling me this? I couldn't believe his nerve. I crossed my arms. "Then we have nothing here."

  He stood back and paced the floor for a second. "Shay, this isn't about hiding her from you. You're strong, you can handle truth. You've made that amply clear." He looked up at me, imploringly. "She can't."

  "You're more worried about her feelings than mine...."

  "Yes."

  There was no arguing. He was immovable. Whatever she was, he wanted to protect her...from me.

  "Just tell me one more thing," I demanded.

  He shoved his hands in his pockets. "What?" he said, hanging his head.

  "Is Lily the one you bought the flowers for?"

  His mouth worked. He wanted to lie. I could tell. But he didn't. "Yes," he whispered, his voice ragged and exhausted. "Yes, they were for her." He looked up. "And she thought they were beautiful."

  Chapter Sixteen

  Kiki stared at the bouquet. I could tell she was impressed, but was pretending not to be. For my sake.

  "Maybe Lily is his dog?" she ventured hopefully.

  The towering arrangement had arrived at Jasmine's, right as I got home from work. Jasmine looked at the delivery guy sidelong. "Well I know for a fact those aren't for me. Shay!"

  I unwound my scarf and hung it on the hook. "What the hell?"

  She eyed me. "What did he do?"

  I sighed. I hadn't told her about what happened at the shop last night. I had gone home, too angry at myself to risk seeing anyone, and locked myself in the guest room, pretending I needed to sleep. I had actually managed to get through today with a smile on my face, in spite of how badly I wanted to put my fist through a wall. I had almost made it too.

  Then he sent me...this.

  The riot of flowers seemed almost haphazard. Whoever the florist was had a really loose hand. The arrangement was jumbled...almost rushed. The flowers were thrown together without regard to harmony or balance.

  Then I had looked at it harder and saw what flowers he included. That's what made me clamp my mouth shut and turn bright red.

  "Here we go," Jazzy muttered. "I'm calling Kiki. You need a come-to-Jesus talk here."

  "Maybe you're right," I said softly, staring at the bouquet.

  Purple hyacinth was the main flower, but each bloom was surrounded with white chrysanthemums. Reaching through the purple and white, though, were the sharp spikes of pine branches and at the top, one lone red tulip like an afterthought.

  By the time we wrestled the arrangement into the kitchen and trimmed and watered it, Kiki walked in the
open front door, breathless and wide-eyed.

  "It's..." she didn't say beautiful. "What'd he do?"

  I blinked at her. The reason he sent me flowers was evident. But it was what he was saying with the flowers.

  "It's an apology," I said. "Purple hyacinth means apology, though I have no idea how he tracked those down in the dead of winter. That must have cost a pretty penny." Not that he would have to worry about that.