The Billion Dollar Bad Boy (13 page)

“Why not?”

“Because there’s nothing pretty in my background. Nothing inspiring. Just a lot of fucking mistakes.”

“Everyone makes mistakes, Van. I shouldn’t have gotten engaged to James, yet I did. I shouldn’t have let my dad’s indifference matter, yet it did.” She swallowed. “I shouldn’t have walked away from you that night in the club, but I did. I walked away.”

He looked down at the ground for a long moment. Then slowly he walked over to the windows, coming to stand across from her, one shoulder hitched against the glass, leaning against it. There were lines of tension around his mouth, blue eyes unreadable. “I was my father’s whore, Victoria. He used me to seduce corporate secrets out of people.” He said the words flatly, without any inflection whatsoever. “The men, I took out to bars and strip clubs, getting them drunk, pretending I was their best friend. And if that didn’t get them to talk, then I seduced their wives or girlfriends and got it from them that way. The women, of course, were easy. A couple of orgasms and they told me their life stories.”

If his intention had been to shock her then, finally, he’d succeeded.

Her throat felt tight, cold inching its way down her spine. “Why? Why did you do that?”

This time there was something bleak in his eyes. “Because I wanted to be a Morrow.”

It was like a Band-Aid being ripped off, exposing a raw, red, and ugly wound. He even saw her flinch. “But … You are a Morrow. Aren’t you?”

Donovan looked away, out into the night. He wasn’t supposed to care about this anymore. So why was it so hard to say? “I had to work for the company, because we all had to. And we started at the bottom since Dad wanted us to prove ourselves. He’d never thought much of me and I was desperate to prove him wrong.” Desperate for attention. Desperate to get the same kind of respect Jax and Sean got.

Damn, useless pretty boy. Always with the books. That’s no way to get respect, Donovan, you hear me? You have to get your hands dirty, not think about fuck knows what all day long.

“One of his female executives took a shine to me and I … well, I was sixteen and horny. She seduced me, and after a couple of sessions on her desk, told me all about how her husband didn’t pay attention to her anymore. How he was always at work at this other company. She basically spilled all his secrets.” He stared out the window into the darkness. “I didn’t think anything of it until I heard Dad was staging some kind of takeover of this company. So I told him what I knew. And he was … impressed.” Donovan looked at her. “For the first time in my life, I’d done something to impress the old bastard.”

“So, what? You kept doing it?”

“Of course I did. Then Dad started giving me specific people to target.”

“Oh, God …”

He didn’t like that look in her eyes, the pity there. Yeah, what a sad, desperate kid he’d been back then. He’d pity himself, too, if he was her. “It was wrong, the whole thing was wrong. But you know the worst part? It was finding out he wasn’t even using the information I got him. He was keeping it for ‘insurance purposes.’” Bitterness coated the words but he couldn’t stop them. “Basically I’d whored myself out for nothing. So, that’s when I told him I was leaving. He didn’t even argue. Just shrugged his shoulders and let me go. After I’d prostituted myself for him.” He laughed, the sound harsh. “Like I didn’t even fucking matter.”

A long, tense silence fell.

Jesus. He was crazy. Why the hell had he said all that stuff? Now he felt broken open, all his secrets exposed. The dirty things he’d had to do and merely for his father’s approval. His father’s love. Love he hadn’t ever in the end received.

Donovan kept his gaze out of the window, out into the night. Dirty and broken, that’s what he was, and if there was the slightest judgment or pity in her gaze this time he didn’t know what he’d do.

“So, you went and founded your PR company?” Victoria’s voice was completely neutral, making his throat tighten for reasons he couldn’t have explained.

He cleared it. “Yeah. I was always better with the people side of things.”

“Why did you go back to Morrow?”

“Because Jax was running the show and he made me a good offer. I was bored with where I was anyway and …” Shit, he’d already spilled his guts to her, what was another confession? “And I guess even after all the crap I went through with Dad, I still wanted to find my place there.”

“Why? Why go back after all that?”

He turned his head, met her level gray eyes. “Because Dad left me with nothing. I did all his dirty work for him and I got sweet fuck all. And I want something for what I did. I want something from this fucking family for what I had to do for him. Jax gets the company. I want that land.”

She didn’t flinch, just stared at him. And what she was thinking he had no idea. Then she took a couple of steps toward him until she was standing inches away, the glass of the window on one side of her, the night just beyond. She lifted a hand, pressed it palm down on his chest, spreading her fingers out, and he felt the burn of heat seep through him.

“It’s strange,” she murmured. “We want that land for the same reasons. To show someone we’re worth something.”

He wrapped his fingers around her wrist, holding her, the ache of desire and a strange yearning gathering inside him. “It’s not just about the important promotion to you, is it?”

“No. I thought … I thought if I could get this land for him—de Winter land—that he’d finally be glad he adopted me after all. That he’d love me like a father should, and not see me as this … person he never wanted. This constant reminder that the woman he loved wasn’t there anymore.”

There was pain in her eyes and he felt it inside himself, too. The pain of a truth laid bare.

And he wanted to make it stop, wanted to give them both something good to replace it. To cancel it out. Replace it with pleasure, because sometimes words weren’t enough. Luckily, that was the one thing he was very good at giving.

Releasing her wrist he lifted his hands, cupping her face between his palms. “I want you, Victoria,” he said softly, fiercely. “Understand me?
I
want you.” Then he showed her, bending and covering her mouth with his.

She didn’t make a sound, opening up to him immediately. Arching up, winding her arms around his neck, kissing him back, hot and hungry and as desperate as he was. He could smell the scent of her, vanilla and musk, and he felt suddenly dizzy with want. With need. Fuck, if he didn’t have her now, he was going to go insane.

But … she’d asked him to share things with her first and shit, he wanted to.

He pulled back, his breathing out of control and ragged. “What else?” he asked hoarsely. “What else did you want to know about me?”

Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes like quicksilver. She looked at him a second, then abruptly stepped away.

But not to leave. Instead she reached behind herself and he heard the sound of a zipper being drawn down, the shimmering fabric slipping from her shoulders and off, pooling at her feet.

His breath caught. She wore silver lace underneath, a bra that hid nothing and a pair of panties he could see the red curls between her thighs through. She didn’t seem to care about the windows right next to her, where anyone could see in.

But she didn’t stop there. She unclipped her bra, then pushed her panties down, stepping out of them, wearing only a pair of high-heeled silver sandals.

He couldn’t stop looking at her because it was the first time he’d seen her naked, though he’d imagined it over the past two days. Imagined it in every possible way. Yet the reality was so much more than his imaginings.

Pale, creamy skin. Pink-tipped breasts. The most beautiful curves he’d ever seen.

She came close, her breasts brushing his chest. “I want to know everything about you, Van. Every single thing. But what I’d really like first is for you to fuck me.”

The breath went out of him, his body hardening. Christ, he should know by now that she never did what he expected.

He put his hands on her hips, spinning her slowly around and up against the dark glass of the windows. She shivered as her back hit it but she didn’t pull away. Only stared up at him, a flash of silver underneath red-tinged lashes.

Yearning surged inside him, crashing through him like a wave breaking against stone, coming from someplace inside him he hadn’t known was there.

He’d never expected to tell anyone about himself. Lay out all his shitty past to a woman and have her look up at him like that, with desire in her eyes. And he wanted that so badly he couldn’t speak.

So he didn’t. He bent down and kissed her again. A hungry, raw, unpracticed kiss. Because he didn’t want to seduce her or charm her. Or deflect. He wanted to show her who he was and who he was, was desperate. Who he was cared.

Need filled him, sharp and vicious, and he embraced it. The kiss became deeper, hotter. He shoved her harder against the window, pinning her there with his body, wanting all of her pressed against all of him. Her bare skin brushed against his neck as she wound her arms around him, kissing him back as hungrily as he was kissing her.

Not enough. He needed to be naked, to have her skin against his.

He lifted his head, untangled her from him. “Stay there,” he said hoarsely as she opened her mouth to protest. Then he stepped back and pulled his T-shirt off over his head, undoing his jeans and shoving them down, along with his boxers.

Her eyes glittered in the light, watching him, and he loved the hunger in them. It had been a long time since he’d gotten fully naked with someone. Since he’d had more than dirty fumbles in dark corners and in cars. Since he’d been skin on skin with someone. And he wanted it with every last breath in him.

In among the tangle of clothes, he found his wallet and extracted the condom from it, protecting himself with ruthless efficiency. Then he moved back to her and all at once something struck him.

He didn’t want to take her against the window where everyone could see. This was a deeply private, personal moment. And it was just between the two of them.

Donovan reached for her, lifting her into his arms and taking her over to the couch.

“You don’t like the window?” she asked, her arms around his neck. “Because I was fine with it.”

“No. Tonight is ours. And I want it to stay ours.”

He laid her down on the leather, covered her with his body, her soft curves fitting perfectly against him. Kissed her lips, her neck, pressing his mouth in the hollow of her throat, licking the fast beat of her pulse. Then moving further down, cupping one full breast in his palm, circling her nipple with his tongue.

She groaned softly, arching beneath him, her fingers tangled in his hair.

But he didn’t want soft sounds. She was here in his apartment, where they had complete and utter privacy, and he wanted to hear her.

Donovan used his teeth, biting her nipple, hearing her soft cry, her body shuddering. He licked the hard tip, soothing it. “Tell me you like it, sweetheart,” he murmured against her skin. “I want to know.” Then he bit her again.

“Oh, God, Van,” she gasped, shivering. “I … like it.”

“How much?” He drew her nipple into his mouth, sucking hard.

She gave another groan. “So much … God … so good …”

He licked her, a lazy teasing circle of his tongue. “How good?”

Victoria unwound one of her hands from his hair, took one of his, and shoved it between her thighs. “This good.”

And it must have been very good indeed because she was wet against his fingers, slick and hot and ready for him. He stroked her gently and she moaned, her hips lifting in response.

The feel of her, the sounds she made, the scent of sex and flowers in the air around them was too much. He couldn’t wait.

Donovan slid an arm beneath her, spreading his hand in the small of her back, lifting her hips. Then he pushed into her, hard and deep.

She gasped, her legs closing around his hips, arching beneath him. Her hands drifted down his back, nails digging in, applying delicious pressure.

He raised himself on his forearms, looking down into her face. Into her eyes. They weren’t silver any more but dark charcoal, smoky with desire. And he got the feeling he was staring into the heart of her, the essence of who she was. Passionate and sensual, warm and giving.

He’d never looked into the eyes of a lover before. Only with her.

And he found he couldn’t look away now. The desperation began to fade, to be replaced by something else he couldn’t identify. Something deeper.

He moved, another thrust, her body so tight around him, he almost shook. Her hands stroked his back, another scrape of her nails, her face alight with pleasure. “More …,” she whispered.

He bent his head, kissed her, tasting sweetness, tasting Victoria. No one else knew this about her. No one else knew how sweet she was. How hot. How tight and wet she got. How giving she was. How passionate she could be.

His movements became slower. He wanted to keep doing this, keep moving inside her, keeping the secret of her his and his alone.

“Van …” Her voice soft in his ear, her breath on his skin. “That feels … so good.”

Pleasure uncurled inside him, the pleasure of doing something that made her feel good. The need to keep doing it, not for himself but for her, because he cared. He cared so much. He moved his mouth to her jaw, her neck, kissing her, tasting the salty sweetness of her skin, keeping his movements slow.

He had so many skills in the bedroom, long years of practice, but he’d never considered it anything to be proud of. Nothing about that period in his life made him proud.

Yet now he was glad of it because it meant he could give her all the pleasure she deserved. All the satisfaction.

Donovan slid his hands beneath her, tilting her hips, allowing him to slide even deeper. She gave another moan, her head tipping back against the leather of the couch, her throat a pale curve beneath him. He kissed her, moving faster now. Harder.

“Oh … God …” Victoria panted.

Her nails sunk into the muscles of his back, the sensual pain of it making his own pleasure coil so tightly he could hardly stand it. But he held onto his control. Kept it firmly in his grasp as he slid a hand between her thighs, brushed her clit with his thumb as he gave one, hard thrust.