An Improper Deal (Elliot & Annabelle #1) (Billionaires' Brides of Convenience Book 3) (12 page)

“Really? Is that, like, his favorite drink?”

I tense. She’s only fifteen, and she has no business talking about hard liquor with that kind of longing in her voice, even if it is her favorite actor’s poison of choice. “Nonny—”

“He rarely drinks,” Elizabeth says smoothly. “Alcohol is bad for an actor’s career. Makes you age prematurely.”

From the way Elliot snorts softly, I know she’s lying. But I’m grateful anyway. It’s bad enough that Nonny is at the age when she’s curious about stuff like this. I don’t want anything to encourage her in any way.

Our server takes our order and brings a bottle of a white wine I’ve never heard of. I turn it down, opting for sparkling water instead. Elliot cocks an eyebrow, but doesn’t comment.

When the food comes, it’s simply…exceptional. I’m not a big seafood eater, and the portions aren’t large, but everything melts in my mouth in an incredibly perfect blend of herbs and sauces.

“So…when’s the big day?” Elizabeth asks.

“ASAP,” Elliot answers. “Probably tomorrow.”

“Do you want me there? I can cancel my meetings.”

“No, it’s fine.”

Nonny looks at me. “
I
want to be there.”

“You have school,” I say.

A stubborn look enters her eyes.

“It’s going to be a very small ceremony,” Elliot says. “And since it’s happening so soon, I doubt anyone from my family’s going to show.”

“Not even Ryder Reed?” Nonny says.

“Especially not Ryder. He’s on his honeymoon in Thailand.”

Her shoulders sag in that dramatic end-of-the-world way only teenagers can manage.

“But when he’s in L.A., maybe we can see him.” Elliot winks conspiratorially.

I jerk at the unexpected kindness. I’m sure women want introductions to his more famous brother all the time, and he could’ve just dismissed Nonny. After all, she’s just extra baggage in this transaction of ours, and I’m not going to expect that he treat her as anything more.

But this…? I don’t think he did it out of calculation. He already has my signature on the agreement.

I frown at the sea bream on my plate. I don’t want him to be nice to us, and especially not to Nonny. She doesn’t understand what the deal is. I don’t want her to develop unrealistic expectations, which can be dangerous. She’s already experienced enough disappointments in life.

And I’m torn; he’s not acting like a moneyed and entitled jerk around Nonny. Nothing much can get to me, but kindness to my sister? There’s no weapon more potent.

He is probably too well-bred to blow her off
, I tell myself. Despite his wealthy family, he doesn’t strike me as the type who grew up with everything handed to him on a silver platter. And he made his own fortune, separate from his father’s.

But he isn’t well-bred enough to keep his hands to himself. A small brush of fingers. The cool glide of his slacks against my bare calves as he shifts. The casual way he pulls a tendril of hair off my flushed cheek.

And with every touch, a potent longing pierces me. I don’t know why this man makes me feel this way. It’s not the length of time since I last had sex. I’ve gone without before, I’ve felt attraction before, but those were pale shadows of what he arouses in me. It’s as though I’ve been drinking water all along, mistaking it for wine.

I go on autopilot, hoping nobody will notice. Somehow my brain commands me to smile when it’s appropriate and nod when required. By the time the server places dark chocolate mousse in front of us, tension winds through my body like piano wire. I’m so hypersensitive that the soft fabric of my dress seems to scrape my skin every time I breathe.

I pick up my fork and take a small bite of the dessert, but other than the fact that it’s soft, nothing registers. I’m too tightly strung to notice. From the others’ reactions though, the mousse must be decadent, a stairway to gastronomic heaven.

“Isn’t tomorrow a school day?” Elizabeth says, glancing at her slim platinum watch.

“I don’t go to bed that early.” Nonny polishes off the chocolate mousse on her plate, licking her lips.

“No, you’re right,” I say. “It’s time we got home.”

Something passes between Elizabeth and Elliot. “I’ll take her home,” Elizabeth says.

“You don’t have to bother,” I say.

“Ryder’s letting me drive his Ferrari,” she says casually. “I’m pretty sure it’s more fun now that the traffic’s died out some.”

Nonny’s eyes go round. “You drive his
Ferrari?
”

“Until he gets back, anyway. You want a ride?”

She spins toward me. “Oh my gosh, can I go with Elizabeth?
Please?
”

I want to tell her no, but the word sticks in my throat. My sister’s eyes are brighter than the sun, and she’s clasping her hands together in unconscious prayer.

Elliot leans over. “She’ll be fine. Elizabeth is an excellent driver.”

“I promise she’ll get home in one piece,” Elizabeth says.

“Yes, and I’ll go straight to bed when I get home!” Nonny adds.

“
Har har
. You’ll be too busy texting your friends about the experience. But okay. Ten minutes of texting and then straight to bed
and to sleep
.”

“Deal,” she says, even though her mouth is slightly pursed.

Elizabeth stands, says her goodbyes, and Nonny follows her out around the blue oceanic wall.

I nurse my sparkling water. “What is this about really?” I blurt out. The question’s been in the back of my mind during the entire dinner.

“Meeting the family before the deed,” he says.

“Your parents—”

“No. Hopefully you’ll never meet them.”

I stiffen, but put on a smile. My throat is tight. It’s absurd that his words cut so deep. Good god. I know he thinks the best I can be is a cleaning lady or a stripper or a hooker. Just because he’s marrying me temporarily—in what’s obviously going to be a rushed ceremony—doesn’t mean that’s changed or he actually has any respect for me. He’s just a crazy rich guy with some weird eccentric need I know nothing about.

I don’t think his half-sister does either from the way she reacted—well,
didn’t
react— to “Gigi”.

He leans closer. “Don’t read anything into it.” Something dark passes in his eyes as his breath feathers over my lips. “Like you said earlier, it’s just a year.”

His hand closes around the back of my neck the exact instant his mouth fits over mine. He tastes me with slow licks, and there’s a sound deep in his throat like I’m the most sinful dessert he’s ever had. His fingers stroke the sensitive skin at the nape of my neck, and shivers race over me. He possesses my mouth with absolute surety—it’s a given that I’m his. His dominance pulls at me. I tilt my head so we can fit better, and I can get a better taste of him.

There’s fiery liquor underneath the decadent chocolate and something dangerously primitive and untamed. My body responds to the last with unabashed hunger. Even as he consumes me with a kiss full of lush heat, I too am devouring him to fill the void inside me, driven by a need I’ve never felt before. I strain to get closer, desperate for more of him. My nipples pucker and peak, and the slickness spreads to my inner thighs.

“Damn, you’re hot,” he grinds out. His mouth is back on mine as his big hands push at the hem of my dress; he pulls me over, onto his lap, my legs positioned indecently on each side of his thighs.

His hands knead my ass through the thin fabric, and the touch only inflames my already heated body. My nerves tingle there; I had no idea my butt was this sensitive. The cool air against my already overheated clit and sex drives me crazy. The contrast only sharpens my need.

I pant as his hot mouth traces my cheeks, my jaw. I can’t focus on anything else but the sensations he arouses in me, how much I crave him.

“Hold on to the table,” he orders, his voice rasping over me.

My hands wrap around the edge of the table behind me. The position arches my back, thrusting my breasts forward. My wet folds hover a few inches above his crotch, and my pelvis rolls in the air, desperate for him.

“Jesus, I knew it,” he says, pushing the skirt of my dress out of the way. “Fuck.” His fingers run over the swollen tissues below. I rock against them, mindless. He pushes a finger inside, his thumb at my clit. “You’re tight,” he grinds out.

I don’t care if he’s complaining or just making a statement of fact. The only thing that matters right now is that he has a finger inside me and with one hand is destroying everything I thought I knew about sex.

“More,” I demand in a throaty voice, greedy for him.

“Oh, don’t worry.” He slowly pushes another finger into me, and it’s all I can do to not scream.

My breathing is shallow, my rib cage barely moving as I struggle for air. Tight knots form in my belly as he finds that special spot inside and simultaneously runs his thumb over my clit over and over again. Every cell in my body vibrates, waiting and hoping…

If all this ends in another of those soft pops of tension I’ve experienced before, I think I’ll cry.

His heated gaze is mesmerizing. I can’t seem to look away, even though it’s far too much for my overloaded system. I feel like I’m on a roller coaster that’s slowly inching toward the peak…

Curling the fingers inside me, he wraps his mouth around a nipple, dress and all, and sucks hard. The silken fabric rubs against my tender breast, and his teeth clamp hard enough to send a sharp sting through my body, soon followed by the soothing feel of his tongue. The pain pushes me over the edge, and I go into free fall. Molten pleasure cascades over me; it’s like plunging into a volcano of euphoria. Blackness hovers over me, but I can’t muster an ounce of worry as I fall apart in Elliot’s arms.

“My god…” I hear myself repeat that like a mantra. I’m shaking all over, uncontrollably, and he gathers me in and rocks me.

I don’t know how long we remain seated like that. Our server doesn’t come by to check up on us, so maybe it isn’t that long.

Elliot licks his fingers leisurely like they’re covered in syrup. His eyes glitter darkly, and I squirm at how openly carnal he is. I’ve never met a man like this before.

When he’s done, he presses a kiss at my sweat-misted temple. His hard erection presses against my backside, but he doesn’t make any move to take his turn.

“Haven’t you ever had an orgasm before?” he asks, his breath feathering against my ear.

My neck seems to shrink, and my skin grows hot. “Of course,” I shoot back.

I steal a quick glance his way. His eyes are too penetrating.

“It’s…” I shake my head. My sexual history isn’t something I want to discuss, even with a man I’m going to marry…and even if he just gave me the most mind-shattering climax ever. “Stop being so smug. I knew you had a big head, but this is too much.” I lay a hand on his cock.
Speaking of big heads
. It’s huge, much bigger than I realized, and rock hard. “Do you want…?”

“No. I don’t have a condom, and when I come with you for the first time, it’s going to be in your cunt.”

My face flames. I can’t decide which is worse—the fact that he’s being crude or that it’s turning me on.

He pulls the pins out of my hair and arranges it so it hides the wet spot over my breast. Then, putting an arm around my waist, he escorts me around the blue wall, through the other tables of diners, and out of the building, his strength lending extra support to my unsteady legs.

Elliot

Unsatisfied desire courses through my body. The drive from the crappy apartment complex takes an hour, but it doesn’t matter. My dick’s hard enough to break a brick.

I don’t give a fuck what she says. I’m pretty certain she’s never had an orgasm before. Or maybe only really shitty ones. It was in the way she clutched me, making small, desperately sad noises in her throat, like she was so certain the final payoff wouldn’t come.

Just thinking about that makes me angry on her behalf. Who the hell denies a woman her orgasm? At the same time, I’m honest enough to admit I’m pleased I rocked her world like no other man before.

It was all I could do not to sweep everything off the table and fuck her right there at the restaurant, but I’m pretty sure the servers would’ve noticed at that point. I don’t give a damn about scandalizing them, but Elizabeth definitely would, since the owner is her dearest cousin. And she’s the only woman whose opinion I care about.

Next time, my new wife and I are going to be private, and I’m going to hear her scream my name until her voice goes hoarse.

My phone rings.
Elizabeth
.

“Yes?” I say.

“Are you alone?” she asks.

“Uh-huh.” I put the phone on speaker and get myself some scotch. “Did you get the girl home?”

“Yeah. She could barely sit still the entire time. I thought she might start kissing the dashboard.”

“Why?” Ryder’s Ferrari is nice, but it’s not worthy of idolatry.

“Because Ryder touched it.” I can hear an eye roll in her voice. As much as Elizabeth loves him, she’s also aware of his shortcomings. So she thinks it’s pretty silly that women fall to their knees at the sight of him. “Anyway…” She pauses. “Gigi’s not what I expected.”

“What
were
you expecting?” I say, although I kind of know. Elizabeth was expecting a stripper because that’s what I told her I was after. I haven’t told my half-sister about the other aspects of my fiancée, since I still don’t know what to make of her working as a cleaning lady or rejecting my offer of three thousand dollars for sex. Actually…maybe she turned the money down because she didn’t realize how good I could make the rest of it for her. I squint a little, thinking about the idea.

“Somebody more shallow and silly. Just the woman you said you want.”

And like a lot of women I’ve banged over the years. “So?”

“Are you settling down for real like Ryder?”

The scotch takes the wrong pipe. I choke, then cough as alcohol burns in my nose. “Oh shit. God. Hell no. Besides, who says he’s settling down for real?” I ask, although I know she’s right.

“Have you seen the way he looks at Paige?”

“Have you seen the way I look at my girl?” The possessive term slips out as naturally as breathing. I wince, going for more alcohol.