LOVE AND HATE (A Billionaire Romance) (23 page)

“I want to believe you,” I murmured. “It takes so much more energy to be mad at you.”

“I hear that.”

“So the guy in the video. Chris. He told me he destroyed the tape when we broke up.”

We weren’t touching, but I felt Scott stiffen with anger at my ex of eight years ago. “The guy is an asshole.”

“He really is. I trusted him. I trusted Lucas. It’s hard to just say to heck with it and trust you, too. Especially when we had to deal with Giuliana and with this tape.”

“I get that. I’m asking for time. Give me time to prove to you that I’m yours.”

I liked the sound of it. It wasn’t enough, though. Couldn’t be. “Lucas told me he was mine. He wasn’t.”

“I can’t change that. I can only be responsible for my own actions. I’m so sorry for so much of what led us here. I wish I’d met you somewhere else. Somewhere better.”

I chewed on this for a beat. I turned on the rock so I faced him, tucking one foot under me. “I don’t think I do. We wouldn’t have clicked otherwise. I never would have thought you could love a poor farm girl like me. You wouldn’t have even tried. You told me once you’d looked right past me until I dumped my drink on you.”

“That was a low blow. The stain never entirely came out of those pants.”

“You can buy more. I don’t have a whole lot of empathy for you there.” I chuckled, and he did, too. “We’ve kind of already seen the worst of one another.”

“Jeez, I hope we have. I’m tired of fighting with you.”

“I’m tired of you doing things that make me want to fight you,” I responded.

“Let’s not forget you spent the beginning of our relationship with the goal of ruining me financially.”

“Touché.”

I listened to the river, to the wind in my trees, while my thoughts spun in my head. Being here with Scott felt weird because this had been my spot with Dennis. I remembered it as the most romantic spot in the world, though, and I wanted to share it with Scott.

Out on the river I saw the lights of the boat coming in to the ramp. The sound of the motor cut the night. We watched the two fishermen maneuver up onto the ramp and work the trailer down into the water. Neither of us spoke in the twenty minutes or so they took to get the boat hauled off.

“I love you,” he reiterated quietly. “I’m sorry I keep doing things to jeopardize that. All my secrets are out, though. I’ve got nothing left.”

“You really didn’t watch the tape?”

“Really.” He took my hand. “I swear it. Swear it on everything.”

The choice lay before me. Believe him or not. If I didn’t, we’d call everything off right now. I’d drive him back to his Mustang and go home. I’d sob for a week. The divorce would take months.

Or I could believe him.

“I can hire someone to hunt down any other copies and have them removed. I can’t promise they will get them all, but it’ll get at least some of them offline.”

I knew I believed him when I made a joke. “Do you think a sex tape would help my career as a comic artist?”

He considered for a moment. Not the content of what I said, but the tone. Tentatively, he joked back. “I think it would skyrocket your career. But don’t do a sex tape with that guy. Do one with the thirty-third richest man in America. Way better quality video. And I’m gonna go out on a limb and say I’m better-looking than your college boyfriend.”

“By a lot.”

I’d known all evening that once we kissed, the conversation would end, and we’d be back together. I wanted to kiss him so badly, but it wasn’t time yet. Almost, but not quite.

“I don’t want to ask you to promise never to lie about anything. I don’t want to vow never to keep secrets. I know they’ll both happen, and when they do, it’ll be for the best. Let’s not cover up big stuff anymore. Let’s aim for ninety-eight percent transparency.”

“I can do that. Easily. Kenz, I want to be transparent with you. I want you as my partner. I want to watch you mature into a famous illustrator. I want to grow old with you.”

A breath caught in my throat. I remembered saying something similar—to the growing old part—to Lucas, and he’d called me corny. Corn this, Corta.

“I want to finish getting to know you. I want to know you as well as my mom knows my dad.”

He moved closer to me, not filling the gap between us, but halving it, leaving me space to decide how to move. I moved to him, my bare leg touching the leg of his jeans.

“I’m sorry.” He let his head rest on my shoulder.

I almost asked him one more time if he’d watched the video or not, but I didn’t. He said he hadn’t, so he hadn’t. I leaned my head against his.

“I’ve missed your smell. Your feel. I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you, too,” I told him. “You don’t have to do this thing with my parents’ house, you know.”

“I want to. If it helps. It’s easy for me to do. I just hope it makes them happy.”

“My dad sounds more serious about looking for work already.”

“That’s great.”

“I worry about him.”

“Is he like you?”

“How do you mean?”

“Just asking. Do you think you’re like your dad?”

“I guess so.”

“Then none of you have anything to worry about. I can’t wait to meet him.”

“Yeah, they’re all pretty hot to meet you.”

“Yikes. I’m scared.”

“Have you told your parents about me?” I asked.

“Not so much. I figured we’d weather this storm first. Maybe we can take a trip to see them in a few weeks.”

“Sounds good. What about your sister?”

“I don’t think she knows, either. She’s been in Europe for a while, the beaches of Nice.”

“I’ve never been to Europe.”

“Soon. We’ll get you over there soon.”

I snuggled against him, and he wrapped an arm around me in the warm night. I relished the feel of his hand on my skin. His fingertips playing over my bicep gave me goosebumps. It also gave me the beginnings of some feelings low in my stomach. A building fire. I rubbed his leg, starting down by his knee and working my way up his thigh. Denim-clad hard muscle turned me on. Scott turned me on. Everything about him. He leaned over and spoke into my neck, his voice vibrating. “Is this where you used to come when you were a girl?”

“Yes,” I said.

“Here, on these rocks?”

I’d had some fun on these rocks, I couldn’t lie. I nodded into his neck.

“Can I eat your pussy here?”

The question brought a flush to my cheeks and my breasts. I could feel myself getting wet. Anticipating him. I’d shaved everything for him this afternoon, anticipating this very moment. “Please.”

“Here, scoot to the edge.” Scott detangled himself from me and shifted me to the edge of the block of granite. He pushed up my skirt and pulled my panties down, setting them on a nearby rock. He stood over me, drinking me in. He reached around and unzipped my dress enough to set my breasts free. He groaned with appreciation.

“Perfection. This right here. All of it. Perfect.”

He knelt in front of me, his face even with my slit. He blew cool air across the wetness, and I shivered. A big part of me didn’t want to be teased. I just wanted him. Another part of me, equally large, thrived on the titillation.

His feelings mirrored mine; he dove in face-first. He kissed my clit, sucking me hard until the fleshy nub plumped up with arousal. He licked me like a starving man, hungry for my offering. My hips flexed in response to him. I threw my head back, relishing the feel of the starlight on my tits and the rock under my ass. The warm, almost-summer air kissed my body as Scott drank from me. He turned his kisses back to my clit and pushed two fingers into me. He plucked and strummed my G-spot like guitar chords. First he sucked me, pulling me between his lips, teasing me with his tongue. Then he switched to broad, flat licks, lapping me from where his fingers plunged in and out of me all the way to the front. Over and over, he expertly dragged his tongue across my most sensitive place.

I’d been too melancholy to masturbate. I hadn’t come for a week, and the orgasm snuck up on me, rocking me onto his face and hands, tensing my whole body with pleasure. A flood of desire rippled from my core through my whole body, shooting out through my fingertips and the tips of my toes braced against his shoulders.

“You taste like heaven,” he told me.

“Tell me what to do,” I said.

“I like that.”

“Anything for you. It’s been such a long time.”

“Anything?”

“Mmhmm.” For him I would do anything. In bed, or on this rock, as the case may be, I was his.

“Make yourself come.”

“Myself?”

“I want to watch.”

Different. I liked it. He settled himself on a nearby rock. By this time our eyes were well adjusted to the light. I reached for my breasts and took one in each hand, squeezing them.

“Get in there, baby, go harder.”

“Okay.”

I grabbed fistfuls of myself, working my way out to my taut nipples. Pulling and pinching them. Wow. I was really turning myself on, which wasn’t usually so easy. But I didn’t usually have Scott sitting beside me, withdrawing his cock from his underwear.

Scott

Holy shit, was she getting into it! She paused a moment, got up on her knees, and pulled the dress over her head. She hadn’t worn a bra, so her big tits jiggled for me. Her short, red fingernails tugged at her nipples, yanking them and pinching. She was rougher on herself than I was. I stroked my cock while I watched. Easy strokes up and down. I didn’t want to get myself off, not yet, hell no. She played and played.

“That’s enough. I told you to come.”

She ran her hands down her ribs and her stomach, to her hips. Her hips rocked back and forth in anticipation of her searching fingers. She found her clit and dipped lower. “Oh my God, you made me so wet.”

She seemed unsure of herself at first. She stroked herself, which pleased her, clearly. She ran her fingers through her wetness, cupping and stroking herself. Rising to meet her hand, her hips thrusting up and down. Oh man, why had I not told her to do this before? This was amazing. Her pleasure surprised her, and her second hand met the first. She spread herself wide for me to see, toying with her clit and sucking in her breath, little moans escaping her. She lay back on the rock and rubbed her clit with the flat of her hand, vigorously teasing herself.

God, I was rock hard. I’m good about coming back to life after
la petit mort
, but usually I took a little more than this. I was ready to go, but watching her was so damn much fun. Plus, I’d told her to make herself come.

She raised her gaze, and our eyes met. The corners of her mouth twitched with pleasure, and her breath came in ragged little gasps. Experimentally, she slid a finger inside herself. Then another. Her lips opened, her mouth parted in a surprised ‘O.’ Her tongue darted out to wet them, and halfway through her innocent gesture, she realized how much it made me want her. She grinned at me and ran her tongue around those red lips, plump and swollen from our kisses.

She’d better get off fast, or I wouldn’t be able to wait. She must have had the same idea, because her questing fingers abandoned their mission, and she focused all her attention on her clit. She rubbed at it with furious strokes, her fingers almost a blur.

She sucked in her breath and gasped. Her body contorted into her hand, needing the rough pressure. She cried out, and I instantly regretting not being able to feel her pussy walls fluttering around my cock as she came.

I didn’t let her rest as she flopped back on the flat stone. I grabbed her legs and hauled her back to the edge of the rock where her pussy would be at the perfect height for me. She was so wet, my cock slipped in like a guided missile. We sighed together at the pleasure. It felt so good to be in her.

I took one perfect breast in each hand and squeezed. “Harder,” she purred. I obliged.

She moaned and writhed under me on the rock as I pounded into her. I was an unstoppable jackhammer. I loved the way we fit, the way her body swallowed my cock. I loved how deep her pussy was. She pressed her body against me, driving her tits into my hands, rising to meet my thrusts. She muttered “yes” over and over again.

I was so close. Ready. I wanted to hold on, wanted to prolong the moment, but it was too hard. I let go, releasing my seed inside her. She took my cue and came, her little muscles spasming and enveloping me.

Shuddering, we collapsed together on the rock.

Mackenzie

Tomorrow night, we would have dinner with my parents.

The closest motel room to Calico was called the Fox Inn, a rinky-dink operation with about twenty musty, cramped rooms. To say Scott looked out of his element would be putting it mildly. Exhausted from our tryst by the river, we collapsed into bed immediately.

The next morning, we woke in one another’s arms. Everything about him screamed home. His smell, the feel of his muscles, the sight of his phoenix tattoo. I belonged here. Our life together wouldn’t always be easy; we wouldn’t see eye-to-eye on every single thing, but we were a pair, he and I, and from here on out he’d have to fight to get rid of me.