Top Love: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (Young Adult Stepbrother and Billionaire Romance Stories) (7 page)
Authors: Ellen Lane,Taylor Young
Never mind that Elias merely arched that imperious, dark brow of his at her. “
Why
shouldn’t we?” As he demanded an answer, he pressed his body even closer to hers, and Cat could feel the very prominent ridge of his erection through his slacks.
It almost undid her.
Almost
.
“Because…” She finally managed breathlessly, “This is a business arrangement. We’re working together…and it’s never a good policy to mix work and pleasure.”
For a moment, she thought he’d ignore her altogether and get back to kissing her senseless. But to Catherine’s surprise, Elias backed off.
Raising his hands in surrender, he stepped backwards to put about five feet of space between them – though the intense hunger in his expression never faded. “If that’s what you want, Cat.” Was it just her, or was the man hiding a hint of amusement behind that aggressor’s mask. “Far be it from me to press your boundaries.”
Oh thank
God
.
The young woman breathed a sigh of relief and her eyes slid closed at the notion that she’d gotten off so easily. At least, until Elias continued. “When I
do
make you mine, you’ll forget about propriety. And you’ll forget about what’s right and wrong.” When Cat met his gaze again, the intensity of their deep blue hue stole her breath. “I
promise
you that
.”
It took everything she had not to melt into a mussy puddle on the floor at that exact moment.
In the space of a single revolution of the London Eye, Cat realized, she had gone from being in control to grasping at its’ straws.
**
Patience was not one of Elias’ strong suits.
As the tall man stood in the center of his suite’s immense shower, letting water sluice over his bare form, he tried to find his inner peace.
Little Catherine Harris had disrupted it
dreadfully
.
She’d barely been in London for a month, and yet she was all he could think about. What the architect had thought would be an easy conquest was quickly growing into something much more confusing.
He still wanted her, of course. Elias wanted her more powerfully than he ever had another woman – but the reason why continued to perplex him:
Cat didn’t want to be seduced. She took pains to
avoid
it. Perhaps Elias had been spoiled by years of women flocking to him like excited pigeons, but this was something completely different. She was…
maddening
. Like no one else in recent memory, she told him things bluntly, and shot straight from the hip with a direct innocence that he would have found impudent if it wasn’t so goddamned alluring.
She hadn’t even been to school for
architecture
, for Christ sake. Which meant that everything she had learned she taught herself – proving that she was far from unintelligent.
Yes, he wanted Cat. But with each passing day, the itch grew into something a bit stranger for him. It wasn’t just her body he wanted – it was her flippant, teasing mouth and the way she stared at architectural plans as if she could lose herself in them. Her innocent wonder and rapt attention as he showed her a city he thought had lost all its luster.
Somehow, inexplicably, Catherine was helping him to rediscover it.
God
, he was a fool. He’d wanted her blindly from the first moment he’d seen her without truly considering how much time they might spend together – how much time he would
want
to spend with her.
Running a hand over his face to skim off moisture, Elias watched the droplets swirl down the drain near his feet.
What was she doing now, his little quandary? It had to be close to nine o’clock in the evening, so she was probably bundled into bed like a good little girl. Did she, he wondered, as lower parts of him stirred in interest, sleep in a pair of ratty sweats or with nothing on at all? The notion of her soft, pale skin sliding against the Savoy’s rich Egyptian cotton sheets was enough to urge his wavering erection into a full one and he cursed lowly.
Though their kiss had been the previous day, he could still taste her on his lips. Sweet as honey, hot as fire...he’d wanted nothing more than to do something completely reproachable on the platform of the Eye. Something he’d regret and that would launch him into British Tabloid headlines for years to come.
But she’d stopped him. With something or the other about work and pleasure.
The memory made Elias frown. For him, work
was
pleasure, and vice versa. He lived for his work – breathed it with every iota of his being.
And in designing his newest residence, Cat had become a part of that. If she couldn’t see that he meant to make her his in short order, she would soon enough.
His patience was running thin.
The next time he kissed her, he would continue until she was a writhing, wanton mess of nerves beneath against him – until she was
begging
him to sate her.
The thought gave him such profound satisfaction that he
almost
touched himself. Then, he decided better of it. He would go to bed hot, hard and wanting – as punishment for his inability to purge Cat’s lithe, buxom form from his thoughts.
Turning off the water, Elias stepped from the shower. He didn’t bother with a towel, merely dripping across the bathroom floor as he headed for the sink to brush his teeth.
He had only just finished when there came a firm knock on his door.
The blue-eyed man scowled in displeasure. He’d specifically told the hotel staff not to bother him after eight – if they had concerns, they could bloody well wait until morning.
When the knock came again, however, Elias resolved to answer it. Grudgingly, he grabbed a minute towel from the bar next to the sink, slinging it low about his hips before he padded, barefoot, to the door. His mouth still turned downward, he undid the bolt before yanking the door open –
And freezing in place.
Catherine stood on his doorstep, clad in a pair of shorts so tiny they might not have existed at all and an oversized t-shirt. She was clearly ready for bed – her hair mussed and face scrubbed clean – but at the sight of his bare chest at eye level, her almond eyes widened.
They burned.
And Elias knew that the time had come.
To be continued…
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With love,
Ellen
Copyright 2015 by Ellen Lane - All rights reserved.
In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.
Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.
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Lauren was eating her lunch behind the Size 9s when she heard the other two girls working the sales floor start to giggle. These were the sorts of giggles that were usually reserved for giddy high school freshmen—girls that swoon whenever the quarterback smiled at them in the halls. She sat what remained of her ham on rye down on her little hideout behind the women’s Adidas running shoes and walked to the stock-room entryway that led out to the floor. She peeked out, not wanting to see like she was interested in whatever had them so happy.
She spotted them easily enough. They were up at the register, which Lauren could clearly see between the aisles for men’s boots and dress shoes. Both of them were leaning across the counter and being far too friendly to a man in a suit that was speaking to them in a near-whisper.
Brittany was easily the worst of the two. She was a waifish twenty-three year old that seemed to think copious amounts of inappropriate flirting compensated for her flat chest and lack of any sort of curves. She was very pretty but seemed to not realize it, always trying to compensate by practically offering herself to any cute man that walked into Farr Brother’s Shoes.
Shelly was almost just as bad, only she had the body to back up her look-at-me-I’m-so-cute attitude. While she wasn’t as flirty or crude as Brittany, she knew how to work her cleavage and what she called The Bottom Lip Bite to get just about any man wanting her.
Lauren stayed where she was, spying on Brittany and Shelly. She looked to the man that they were ogling but was only able to see him from the side. It was apparent that he was handsome, even just from the left side. His suit looked like it cost more than Lauren’s car and it made him seem very out of place in a rundown little shoe store that could barely pay its bills.
Lauren wondered what it would be like to be able to so openly flirt with a man like that. Hell, she wondered what it would be like to so openly flirt with any man. Lauren was twenty-six, weighed two hundred and twenty-eight pounds, and seemed to keep a small patch of acne just below her hairline that had been there (apparently to stay) since she’d been in high school. Her hair was plain and black, her eyes were the same, and she could only pull off “pretty” if she spent half an hour or more in front of the mirror in the morning with some very expensive makeup.
She’d given up on trying to live the life that Shelly and Brittany had almost five years ago. That had been after finding out that her college boyfriend—the only man she’d ever slept with—had been cheating on her for nearly two years. She never asked him why he’d done it. She’d just assumed. The other girl had been at least sixty pounds lighter than her and smiled about every damned thing.
Lauren rarely smiled. There was nothing in her life to make her smile, much less make her think about smiling. Not even cute businessmen that came into this crappy little shoe store.
With a heavy sigh, Lauren went back to her sandwich. There was no actual break room in Farr Brother’s Shoes, so she always ate lunch in the large stock-room and tucked herself in the far corner by the outdated women’s tennis shoes.
She sat there and finished off her sandwich, washing it down with a lukewarm Pepsi. As she was drinking the last of her soda, she heard Brittany and Shelly heading to the back of the store. They were snickering and giggling, again making Lauren have high school flashbacks. When they came back into the stock room and took a seat behind the security monitors so that they could see the floor without actually being out there, they were still giggling.
“I wonder what he would pay me per hour?” Brittany said.
“Would you actually do that?” Shelly asked.
“I don’t know. It depends on how much money. A guy like him, I think he’d be clean, you know? Nothing to worry about really. Hell, I probably wouldn’t even charge him.”
“You’re awful, Brit.”
Brittany pointed a playful finger at Shelly and said, “You mean to tell me that you wouldn’t bang him if given the chance?”
“Eh,” Shelly said. “Yeah, I probably would.”
Brittany turned around and gave Lauren an evil grin that she didn’t like one bit.
“How about you, Lauren?” Brittany said. “How much would he have to pay you to get you in the sack?”
“I don’t know,” Lauren said. “I didn’t even see him.”
“Doesn’t matter. You know him, all right. It was Riley Thomson. Everyone knows him.”
“The man that was just in here was Riley Thomson?” Lauren asked, legitimately shocked. Riley Thomson was a multi-millionaire—probably a billionaire—that owned just about every inch of the industrial districts in the city. She found it hard to believe that he had stepped foot into Farr Brother’s Shoes. So yes, she knew him. Both Brittany and Shelly were right; he was not only incredibly wealthy…he was drop-dead handsome and the thought of being intimate with a man like that was, to Lauren, like picturing herself riding a unicorn…it wasn’t going to happen.
“Look at her,” Shelly said slyly. “She would!”
“I always knew she had a nasty side to her,” Brittany said, giving her a playful hug. “I bet there’s a ton about Laurent hat we don’t know about!”
Lauren blushed, not even trying to hide it. The truth of the matter was that Brittany and Shelly were generally pretty nice to her. Sure, Lauren despised them a little bit because of their bodies and how it seemed that they could eat anything and stay slim, but they never demeaned her or spoke down to her. Lauren wouldn’t go so far as to call them friends by any means, but they were okay for the most part. She’d learned in high school and college how the beautiful skinny girls had a way of making the hefty girls feel inferior. Back then, it had been a social norm that Lauren had simply accepted. But now, working with promiscuous and great looking women like Brittany and Shelly, she was pleased to know that such nonsense tended to die off in the real world.
Lauren’s lunch break ended and she took over the floor while Brittany put together an invoice order for the following day. Shelly left, her shift now over as Tuesday afternoon became Tuesday night.
While Lauren and Brittany were cleaning up, counting down the final hour of the day, Lauren found herself looking to the counter, again amazed at how any woman could be so open and flirty with a man like Riley Thomson. How empowering that must be!
“What did Mr. Thomson want, anyway?” Lauren asked, surprised that she had actually asked the question.
“Not shoes, I can tell you that,” Brittany said. She stopped pushing her broom across the entryway where the newest and most expensive shoes were piled and held it almost thoughtfully. “He asked to speak to Mr. Farr. He was sort of sly about it, especially when I told him that Mr. Farr wasn’t in. I even asked if he wanted Mr. Farr’s number, and he said no. He said he’d drop back in some other time.”
“What on earth does he have to do with Mr. Farr?” Lauren asked.
“Hell if I know,” Brittany said. “But if he’s hanging with the likes of Riley Thomson these days, I think we should all ask for raises.”
“Amen,” Lauren said and went back to wiping down the counter.
The night ended with just one more customer—a tired-looking mother hauling her young son behind her as they shopped for school shoes—but that was about it. Lauren and Brittany locked the store up and called it a night.
“I’m heading out for drinks with some friends,” Brittany said as they reached their cars. “You want to come?”
Lauren did want to go. She wanted that sort of interaction with other people pretty desperately, actually. But while women like Brittany and Shelly had learned to look past her weight and shyness, others had not. She knew this well and had experienced it far too many times in bars and clubs. She didn’t feel like putting herself through that tonight.
“Not tonight,” she said, looking away. “Maybe some other time.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” Brittany said, pointing an accusatory finger.
Lauren only nodded as she got into her car and closed the door. She pulled out of the parking lot rather quickly, as if she was afraid that she might change her mind and decide to take Brittany up on her offer.
***
She walked to her apartment just as quickly as she had left the parking lot of the show store. She felt as if she had been defeated…by what or whom, she wasn’t sure. All she knew was that she had one more night of hanging out by herself in front of the TV to look forward to. It would also be a night of trying to fight the urge to crack open that new bag of potato chips or to make a batch of brownies just to have something to do.
As she pulled her keys from her purse, she heard the elevator ding behind her. She looked to her left and watched as Scott Graham stepped off. He was a little older than she was and was just as shy. He smiled at her, adjusting the glasses on his face as he did so.
“Hey, Lauren,” he said.
“Hey, Scott.”
His apartment was in the opposite direction, but he took a step towards her instead. Lauren sometimes wondered if Scott had a crush on her. It was a fanciful thought and it made her feel conceited—something she rarely felt. Scott was a little pudgy, was going gray at the age of thirty-six, and had absolutely no fashion sense. Still, she could not remember a man that had showed her so much attention since her college boyfriend.
And we see how that turned out, she often told herself when she tried to imagine Scott having any sort of physical attraction to her.
Whether he did or not didn’t matter. It would never happen. She wouldn’t allow it. Still, it was nice to be able to entertain the notion.
“Big night?” Scott asked.
“Oh, absolutely,” Lauren said. “Did you know The Gilmore Girls is on Netflix now?”
He chuckled and then gave a shrug. “Netflix is my life right now,” he said. “But for me, it’s Breaking Bad.”
“Well, enjoy it,” Lauren said, unlocking her door and opening it.
“You, too,” Scott said.
Lauren closed the door behind her and couldn’t help but smile. It did seem like Scott felt a certain something for her. It made her feel guilty in a peculiar way, but it also made her feel like an actual woman. Oh, Brittany would have a field day with this, she thought.
She showered, ate a small dinner (managing to forego the brownies and considering it a victory), and then kept true to the plans she had shared with Scott. She sat down in front of the TV and laughed at Lorelai Gilmore’s wit.
As she watched, her mind kept wondering back to earlier in the day when she had spied on Brittany and Shelly as they had spoken to Riley Thomas. If what Brittany had said was true, he’d be back in the store. And as assistant manager, there was a good chance that she’d be there when he did.
I’m going to talk to him, she told herself between shows.
The idea of it made her nervous and a little giddy. She knew it was a silly promise to make to herself, but there it was, plain and simple.
I’m going to talk to him and I might even flirt. Just to see what it’s like.
The idea of it embarrassed her, but she was unable to keep the smile off of her face when she thought about it.
***
As it turned out, she didn’t have to wait very long. Two days later, when she was opening the store with Mr. Farr, a white Escalade pulled into the lot. It was not the sort of car they usually saw in their lot, making Lauren’s mind instantly jump to conclusions.
It’s him. Remember what you told yourself. Remember the promise you made to yourself.
“Oh God,” she said softly.
“What’s that?” Mr. Farr said as they walked inside.
“Nothing,” Lauren said. “Just talking to myself.”
Yet as they walked inside and started flipping on lights, she looked out of the large display window and saw that her assumption had been correct. Riley Thomson stepped out of the white Escalade and started coming across the parking lot. He wasn’t dressed in a suit today; instead, he wore a pair of simple khaki pants, a dress shirt, and a loose-fitting tie. Seeing him from the front as he got closer, her initial view of him the other day was nothing. He was beyond handsome. And to make matters worse, he carried himself like he knew it.
Mr. Farr had made his way to the back for his morning routine when Riley walked through the front door. Lauren looked to the back of the store, knowing that Mr. Farr was doing what he usually did: cutting on the music for the day, starting a pot of coffee, and setting the air conditioner controls. He’d be back up to the front in less than three minutes.
“Hello,” Lauren said as Riley came to the counter, pretending that she didn’t know who he was.
“Hi there,” Riley said. He came to the counter and rested his hands on it as if he had been here a hundred times before. He looked Lauren directly in the eyes and when he did, she nearly abandoned the promise she’d made to herself. His stare was like ice being slid across your spine, but in the best way imaginable.