The Billionaire Shifter's Curvy Match (Billionaire Shifters Club #1) (7 page)

She widened her legs and wrapped her heels around his hips as he plunged inside her, the throb at the base of his cock slowing and deepening, taking over his heartbeat and hers, the blood rushing through his ears tempered by the same slow, languid beat. Lilah’s hips moved against his as Gavin reveled in the stillness of just being in her. Being with her.

Being together.

A commanding urge within him pulled him to full height and he slid her up and back onto the table, his cock pinning her to the scarred oak top. Collecting her wrists, he wrenched them above her head, a groan of submission her response.

His next thrust was hard, unyielding, with a bite on her nipple that would leave a small mark the next day. That was the point. Her body twisted under his, hips pushing up to get more of what he gave. Lilah met him in his next thrust, the slam of flesh and bone a drumbeat of its own.

Gavin lost all pretense of tenderness, of being gentle. Thrust after thrust hammered his craving into her, his release so close. Sweat tickled her lip, her forehead, the hairline around her face, and she opened her eyes suddenly, locking those eternal pools with his. She was so close that he saw his own eyes reflected in hers, her irises almost as golden as his when in wolf form. He imagined them running together, united as their deepest selves, and felt the last thread of his self-control snap.

There.

There you are.

He heard her voice and his, echoes of each other, in his mind as the rhythm picked up, one of her hands escaping to grab his ass and push him deeper, harder, and he knew she wanted the roughness, the desperation—all of it.

Lilah pulled up and licked his chest, the bite unexpected on the tight skin across his pec, her teeth pulling the skin away from his muscle then relinquishing it, leaning in for a second bite. Gavin sank his hand into her hair and kissed her so hard as he hammered home his beat, her walls clenching in patterns he knew would drive her to ecstasy.

“Mmm,” she moaned against his mouth, her hips pushing up, up, up, and then she bit his lip as she came, opening wider for him, his cock plummeting deeper into her than he thought possible, her pussy milking him as her pink walls drew him in. Her cry of climax triggered his own as they joined in frenzied orgasm, the Beat driving through all thought, all flesh, all consciousness.

Eyes open, he was blind; and then when he closed them, all he saw was her face. Impossibly, he felt her pleasure cascading over him in waves, as if her climax were inside his own flesh. He cried out and thought he was going to die from ecstasy, that the release was too powerful to survive. With each throb, he flew closer to the great abyss

He and Lilah were one body, one spirit, one pulse.

G
radually he realized
he wasn’t dead. He’d survived. Lilah’s chin was on his shoulder, their bodies clasped in a firm embrace. Her breath pushed his hair with little brush strokes, in and out, the pull of light strands near his neck a steady presence. Their hearts smashed together, separated by inches of flesh and bone, wishing they could be closer.

He felt... whatever he felt with her in his arms had no words.

And then the Beat disappeared, replaced by an internal glow that suffused him from toe to eyebrow, from fingertip to fingertip, his body pure light and peace. Lilah tensed, then relaxed, pulling back to look at Gavin.

Their eyes met and he saw her soul. He tore his gaze away before she could see his.

Reality intruded one painful nanosecond later, as Gavin’s pants buzzed.

Damn technology.

“Oh!” Lilah exclaimed, making the same sound she’d made moments ago but with a decidedly less arousing tone. “I, um... oh God.”

Gavin pulled out of her with great regret that he could not feel her warm heat around him every minute of every day for the rest of his long—oh, so long—life. Her panic began to unsettle him, and he took a moment to compose himself, taking a deliberately slow inhale to clear his mind.

What was left of it, that is.

She rooted around on the floor, pulling the corset around her chest and frowning at the hooks and laces.

“Allow me,” he offered, quite experienced with this particularly intimate article of women’s clothing. He had not destroyed the laces after all, but it took some expertise to relace the corset and set Lilah on a path toward a respectable appearance.

As he finished and pulled away, she slipped her arms into the sleeves of her dress, tied the sash at her waist, and looked at him with a horrified gasp.

“That bad?” he said, amusement twitching his lips, looking down at his tall, naked form. He was fully human, and her gaze made him quicken.

Then he realized she was looking past him. Behind him.

He turned to see her red thong hanging jauntily from the neck of a bottle of wine. Retrieving both, he handed her the now-useless piece of clothing and examined the bottle’s label.

“Château Le Pin,” he said. “Of all the vintages to hang a pair of panties from, this fits well.” His eyes took her in from head to toe, then he bent closer to her and took a deep inhale. “Both have an exquisite bouquet.”

Lilah stared somberly at her broken underwear. “I wonder if they’ll make me pay for this.”

Gavin reached for his trousers and slipped one leg into his pants. “That’s part of the club-issued uniform?”
Good call, Eva
, he thought. Now he understood why membership dues were so steep.

Lilah stuffed the snapped panties into a pocket and ran her hands through her hair, smoothing it. She was so ripe. As Gavin finished dressing his body ached for her, for more, for a second round, for a long night together.

For breakfast the next morning. And the next.

Instead, he faced a very skittish woman who eyed him paradoxically, as if she had an angel on one shoulder and a devil on the other.

“What
was
that?” she asked. No pretense. No shyness. No boldness, though. Oh, how honest and simple was her question.

The answer eluded him. Gavin knew what
not
to say, but he could not explain what had just happened.

“I don’t know, Lilah.” As her name passed through his lips, he took two steps closer to her, eyes affixed to hers, and the space between them felt filled with possibility. Their scent filled the room, too many questions in the air for him to enjoy it.

Bzzzz.

The phone vibrated against his thigh and he pulled it out, annoyed.

The text message simply read:

The wine cellar is hardly private.

If Gavin were capable of blushing, his face would be hot. Lilah noticed the change in him but said nothing, moving past him as if he would lunge at any time.

Smart woman.

Eva’s message was clear, and he opened his mouth to say something that would help them to understand what on earth—or in other realms—had just happened.

“Gavin,” she said softly, standing before the door. She turned back, the twist of her body accentuating the hourglass figure. “We can’t do this. I’m... I’m sorry.”

“Wait,” Gavin said, desperate to keep her here, yet knowing she was right. He bent down to retrieve a small coaster that had just fallen out of her dress pocket. “You forgot this.” He wanted to say so much, but his sense of self was filled only with the need to touch her, a need he must now control.

He’d thought that being inside her would quench his thirst. It only made him want more.

“Oh!” she said, reading scribbles on the coaster. “The wine! I forgot the wine.” She looked as if she might cry. “I can barely read this, and it’s in French, and I’m not wearing any panties, and—” Lilah’s tears felt like pouring salt on the enormous hole in his chest where his heart lie completely open and vulnerable now.

“It’s fine, Lilah. It will be fine. Here,” Gavin answered, knowing that if he reached out to draw her into his arms and comfort her, he would be buried inside her again in seconds. Retrieving her wine list would have to be a poor substitute for an embrace and a second round.

Two minutes later, he handed her the three bottles. “Excellent taste,” he said without smiling.

She took the bottles with a grateful look and just stood in place, staring at him. “Thank you,” she finally said. “I...I don’t know what to say. I don’t do this.”

“You don’t retrieve wine?”

Her eyes narrowed. His cock stirred. He liked this Lilah, the one whose cheeks pinked as she replied, “I don’t sleep with strange men hours after I meet them.”

“On the contrary, Lilah, you met me a few days ago.”

“Same difference.”

“And I’m not strange.” That was a lie, but he let it stand.

She cocked one eyebrow and shifted her weight to one hip, the move making her breasts pour forth even more from the corset. “You are a stranger.”

“Strangers don’t feel so much with each other.”

She looked as if he’d slapped her. “No, they don’t, Mr. Stanton. It’s best we forget it ever happened. I know I will. Starting now.”

And with that, Lilah slipped away, leaving Gavin alone in the chilled room, surrounded by the scent of something so much greater than themselves.

And an urge that he now knew would never go away.

L
ilah crept
into the apartment just after midnight. Afraid of waking Jess, she didn’t turn on any lights, instead relying on the glow of her phone to navigate an unsteady path to the bathroom.

Smoky, however, trotted over to greet her, tail wagging and body quivering. She let him follow her into the bathroom and shut the door, feeling guilty for forgetting about him for the past few hours.

Forgetting about herself.

What had she done?

And when could she do it again?

She turned on the shower and ran her nails along Smoky’s delicate skull as she waited for the water to heat up, remembering the feel of sweaty, hard muscle in Gavin.

A moan escaped her.

No
. It was insane. They both knew it was. She’d never heard of anything like it, as if a virus had infected each of them. It wasn’t normal, it wasn’t healthy. The stress had finally broken her—all the worries about money, her family, even her safety. At the first flush of desire, she’d thrown aside rational thought and spread her legs and fucked...

Fucked up her life.

No, not yet. There was still time to get a grip. She’d keep telling herself that.

She took a shower. Brushed her teeth. Moved through the routine, barely aware of her own body.

After a few fitful hours of sleep on her lumpy futon, Lilah was ready to start another day. One that she wouldn’t screw up.

Her hand trailed along her body, stroking the skin he’d touched only hours earlier. Her nipple, sore from where he’d kissed, licked, and nibbled. Looking down, she saw the small mark he’d left, a light, rose-colored bruise that was like a claiming.

It hadn’t felt wrong. It had felt perfect. As perfect as watching the sunrise.

She flung off the covers and stared at her shithole apartment. Even dappled morning light didn’t do it any favors.
This
was reality. Wild sex with a man whose every touch spoke to her deepest, wordless places—no. Not real. Even if it felt like he knew her. The sense that she’d always known him and each muscle and bone of his hard, giving body—impossible. That was a fantasy. That was madness.

This stuffy, cramped room with furniture she’d found discarded on the street and the twenty-four-seven street noise was her life, and she had to accept that.

So that she could make it better.

“How’d it go?” Jess rolled over in her bed against the wall and brushed the long brown hair out of her eyes. Her sleepy voice reminded Lilah of when she was a little girl. “I didn’t hear you come in last night.”

“Good. I didn’t want to wake you.”

Jess sat up, squinting. “Are you OK? You look kind of upset.”

“Just tired.”

“Look, if you hate the job, you shouldn’t—”

“I love it.” Lilah managed a smile, but the word
love
triggered a whole-body flush. “I want to tell you all about it but I can’t because of the contracts I signed.” That was true enough. It was like the NSA or something. Even more important than not sleeping with the members was keeping her mouth shut. If she couldn’t manage one—oh, Christ, she didn’t even last one day!—she’d be damn sure to be perfect about the other.

“You can’t tell me anything? I’m your own sister.” Jess gave her a pout that made her look like she was six years old.

“They are really, really strict. Just what I told you already is all I can say.” Lilah went over and squeezed her sister’s shoulder. “Believe me, I’m dying to tell you all about it.”

Boy, that was the truth. How was she going to survive meeting, having, and losing
him
without being able to talk to anyone about it?

“They’ll never know,” Jess said, smiling.

“Sorry. I can’t screw this up.”

Again.

The rest of the day went much as the beginning, with Jess teasing her for details and Lilah struggling to hide the tumult inside her. It was a relief when it was time to go back to the club. In fact, she arrived so early that after Molly set her up with another fabulous dress and yet another pair of unbelievable shoes, Lilah still had thirty minutes until her shift started.

“How embarrassing,” Lilah said, frowning at the clock near the door. “If I show up now, I might look like I’m trying to steal the other girls’ hours.”

“Don’t worry about that,” Molly said. “I’m not close to any of the servers right now, but I don’t think any of them are
that
bitchy. But please, sit down and talk to me. I get so bored down here.” She flopped onto the sofa and patted the cushion next to her.

How could Lilah resist? Mirroring Molly’s smile, she walked over, her dress clinging to her thighs, perched on the edge of the seat. “Thanks. This is much better than the elevator.”

“Oh, that elevator.” Molly shivered, her blue eyes widening. “Something about it gives me the creeps. Or... I don’t know. I always get goose bumps in there. Makes my nipples hard as rocks.” Putting her palms over her breasts—she was wearing a tight, low-cut electric-orange top that showed every generous curve—she wiggled deeper into the cushions with a sigh.

Lilah laughed.

“I’m serious! It’s like somebody walks over my grave every time I’m in there,” Molly said. Then her tone changed, softening to a low murmur. “Or my bed.”

“Your
what
?”

“I told you, my nipples get all tight. And I get all tingly you-know-where.”

Lilah was too stunned to laugh.

“Oh, sorry, I’m shocking you.” Lowering her hands from her chest, Molly patted Lilah’s bare knee. “I’ll stop, I’ll stop.”

Lilah was swept away by the memory of Gavin grabbing, kissing, and nearly consuming her in that same elevator just the night before. Her enthusiastic response had led to what had happened later in the wine cellar. That damn elevator was where she’d begun her journey down the road of recklessness, danger, and stupidity. Because she, too, had gotten all
tingly
.

“I feel the same way,” Lilah said. But she didn’t think it had anything to do with the elevator.

“You do?”

Lilah nodded. “It’s one hell of an elevator.”

Molly reached over and adjusted Lilah’s plunging neckline. “You’re sweet to say that, but that’s OK. I’m not shy about being kind of slutty. It’s my way. I love sex. Men. Sex. Sexy men. Even not-so-sexy men. I’ve always been boy crazy and I don’t even fight it anymore.”

Lilah couldn’t help but really like this girl. Molly was that rare type of person who lifted the mood of any company she was in. “Don’t call yourself slutty! Women can enjoy sex just as much as men, and there’s nothing wrong with owning that.Too bad you’re stuck down here by yourself then. The guys in the club would be all over you if you served.”

“Oh, no,” Molly said. “That’s no accident. Can you imagine? I’d be like an alcoholic in a brewery. Or a kid in a candy store. Or me in a candy store, honestly, because after men, I’m powerless before chocolate. I have no willpower. None whatsoever.” She laughed and flung her head back, sending her ponytail bouncing down her back.

Lilah could relate. Her first day on the job, she’d had sex with a forbidden club member. During work hours. On business property. On a table. “I’m not so good myself with that willpower thing,” Lilah muttered.

“Oh, I’m sure you’re perfect.” Molly clapped her hands together and jumped up. “Well, you’d better get going. Eva is cool underneath that dominatrix boss-lady thing, but there’s no reason to push it when you’re new.”

If only she’d remembered that last night. She rose. “Thank so much, Molly. I can’t tell you how much better I feel. I owe you one.”

“Aw, no you don’t. I didn’t do anything.”

“You made me smile. Let me buy you a drink sometime, OK? Not in the club. Out in the real world.”

“It’s a deal. I’m free every Tuesday. I love movies too. When I’m not being a slut, I go to the movies with girlfriends. Want to go?”

Lilah would be glad to make a new friend, and now she had a job to pay for the little frivolous things she’d been denying herself. “I’d like that.”

Molly patted her arm. “I’ll text you. Any movie. I don’t mind anything once or even twice.” She snorted. “I’m easy, remember?”

Laughing, Lilah said good-bye and took the infamous elevator upstairs. With each moment, the lighthearted relief she’d found in Molly’s company began to fade away, leaving a growing sense of anxiety, tension, and, yes, desire. The moment she entered the Platinum Club, she knew he wasn’t there.

Thank God
, she told herself, although she felt tears come to her eyes. She’d make herself believe it eventually.

Her second shift went more smoothly than her first, and she began to snap out of her exhausted daze and enjoy it. The art and science of working a crowd always gave her a buzz. But even when she served
People
magazine’s “Hottest Man Alive” a martini, it wasn’t the kind of buzz she wanted.

Without
him
, she knew she’d never feel that kind of buzz again.

Gavin. She finally knew his name.

“Did I mention last night, Lilah sweetheart, that there’s a barista in the reading lounge café who makes a killer macchiato?” Carl asked.

She’d been standing at his drink station, staring into space. Shaking her head, she lifted the tray he’d put there at least a full minute earlier and gave him a grateful smile. “I’m OK, but thanks. You’re a doll.”

“I couldn’t sleep for two days when I started.” He rolled his eyes. “And not because I had company. Or wanted any. Just couldn’t turn off my brain.”

“It’s overwhelming,” she agreed. Even without the frenzied sex in the wine cellar.

“I’ll send Zoe over to get the java. Hang in there. You’ve only got another two hours.”

“Thanks, but I’d better not. I don’t want anything keeping me awake tonight,” she said.

Suddenly Carl tapped her wrist, his voice dropping. “Especially not with that guy over there. I meant to warn you about him yesterday.”

Her heart began to pound against her ribs. A familiar tingle—but very faint, more like a tickle—brushed her temple. Not breathing, she slowly turned to look where Carl was staring.

A huge guy with long black hair was laughing at the other end of the bar. Handsome guy, clearly coming on to the woman in a beige suit sitting by herself drinking an Austrian white wine with six names that Lilah had struggled to remember when she’d relayed it to Carl. The woman was blushing, touching her hair.

Relief flooded Lilah. “Don’t worry,” she told Carl, laughing. “Not my type.”

“He’ll make you his type if you’re not careful.”

“Don’t worry,” she repeated. “What’s his name?”

“Derry Stanton. One of a brood. The Stantons—” he cut himself off, his gaze fixed across the room. He tucked his lips into his mouth and looked down. “Eva’s watching. Better get moving.”

One of a brood?
Oh my God. There’s more of them
. Mind racing, she served the drinks, giving Eva a pleasant and professional smile as she worked.

She’d have to get Carl alone and ask him about this
brood
of Stantons.

After her tray was empty, it was time for her break. Maybe she would go grab a latte. She slipped out the door that headed to the café. But when she saw that her path was blocked by two senators and a cable news reporter, she gracefully pivoted on her newest designer heel to return to the lounge. She’d have to settle for a soda.

“Couldn’t bear to leave me?” rumbled a low, mocking voice.

A familiar voice.

But the body in front of her wasn’t the one she’d hoped and feared. Her gaze followed the burly chest up to broad shoulders, a square jaw, blue eyes, and long black hair. Derry, Carl had said. Gavin’s brother?

He wasn’t blocking her way or anything creepy like that, just loitering near the door with a boyish smile on his face.

She liked him instantly. And not in any way that would get her into trouble. “That’s it,” she said, smiling back. “I couldn’t bear it.”

His eyes widened at her words, amusement tickling the edges. She couldn’t understand what was so funny, but she’d go with it.

Stepping into the doorway with her, he looked over her shoulder at the powerful men in the corridor. “Hate that guy. It’s always a pleasure to vote against him.”

“Which one?”

“Both of them.”

She laughed, then had to put her hand over her mouth. Her own opinion was the same. “I’m just heading back to the bar. Can I get you something?”

He grinned. “You are forward, aren’t you?”

Again she had to laugh. “Good quality in a waitress. What are you drinking?”

He put a hand on his chest. “The sight of you, fair maiden.”

“Save it, big guy. Scotch on the rocks?”

“How’d you guess?”

“Saw what you were drinking earlier.”

He wiggled his dark, slanted eyebrows. “Couldn’t take your eyes off me, could you?”

“How could I? You block the sun.” She knew this was the way to handle a guy like this; teasing gave her room to reject him without any hard feelings. “I’ll be right back.”

“I’ll pine every moment that you’re away,” he said. And then, “You can bring it to that table over there near the fire.”

“You mean, near the gorgeous redhead?”

He shrugged. “I have to console myself somehow.”

Lilah was still smiling as she strode away. If only she’d been able to handle the other Stanton so easily.

A man stood up from a table and blocked her way. Wallbanger Webb. “How about turning some of that smile in my direction?” He was about forty, blond and handsome but—she recognized the signs immediately—drunk. Came with the territory.

“My pleasure.” Stepping out of lunging range, she smiled at him and kept going. Luckily, he wasn’t in her section.

“Hey there, not so fast.” He caught her arm with unexpected dexterity. Before she thought it was inappropriate enough to signal for help, he released her. “Forgive me. I was just going to ask your name. I’ve never seen you here before.”

A diamond stud glittered in his ear. She guessed that Botox had smoothed away the first wrinkles on his brow. And even drunk, not a hair of his perfectly trimmed blond head was out of place.

“Lilah. I’m new.” Exaggerating a sigh, she pointed at the bar. “Lots to learn.” She granted him another smile and moved to go.