The Billionaire's Secret Boxed Set (4 page)

“God, Miranda… How did I make it three days without doing this?” he wondered huskily.  He stood and held his hands out to her, helping her up. He helped her out of her blouse, dropping it gently onto the coffee table,
then reached around her to unzip her skirt.  Miranda wiggled out of it and let it fall to the floor, then stepped out of it.  She stood there before him in her bra, panties and heels, offering herself to him.  

“You’re so exquisitely beautiful,” he whispered, his voice heavy with desire.  Opening his mouth slightly, his teeth flashed in a canine snarl of need.  He stepped toward her and unhooked her bra, dropping it to the ground. Bringing his hands up, he cupped both breasts in his palms.  Softly, he began to stroke her nipples with his thumbs.  She gasped and closed her eyes at the contact, her back arching involuntarily to bring her breasts closer to the sweet sensation.  She was dizzy with need; she grasped his arms for balance.  Low, guttural moan escaped her, and she longed for him to fill her with his heat. 

One hand moved away from her breasts and caught her hand, bringing it down to feel the hot, hard steel between his legs. “Do you feel what you do to me? I want you so badly.  Tell me you want this.”

“Yes!” she whispered urgently.  She opened her eyes and reached down with her other hand, unfastening his pants so that they fell to the floor.  Staring deeply into his eyes, she reached up and unbuttoned his shirt, which he removed along with his undershirt.  He stood there before her, a god in only his boxer briefs, his large shaft outlined by the fabric.  He hooked his thumbs through the waistband and removed those as well.  Miranda began to do likewise, but he
stopped her. “I want to do that,” he muttered in a voice tight with need. Kneeling before her, he slowly pulled her panties over her thighs and down her legs, keeping his lips just millimeters from her throbbing sex.  His hot breath teased her clit as he slowly ran a finger up the inside of her leg from her ankle to her thigh. Miranda’s breath hitched, and she felt herself getting wetter as the throbbing between her legs increased.

Liam picked her up as if she were a feather, and
lay her on the oversized couch.  He lowered himself down onto her, and she spread his legs to cradle him between them.  The hotness of his sex pressed against her.  The delicious pleasure of it triggered something deep within her, and she lifted her hips to press against him.  All she could think of was how she wanted him to plunge himself deep inside her.  “Please…” she heard herself whisper.  She threaded her fingers through his hair and pulled his face down to her own, opening her lips and kissing him passionately.  He groaned loudly, his hips thrusting toward her as his body responded to hers.  “Not yet,” he whispered.  His lips traced a trail of burning kisses down her neck to her breasts, and his lips latched onto one nipple.  He licked and teased, stiffening it, as she moaned and writhed, desperation making her lose control.  She began to cry out softly, unable to contain her response to him.  His lips moved to the other breast, teasing the nipple into hardness.  Liam slid a hand down to caress her belly and her hips, finally stopping at the mound between her legs.  Miranda whimpered softly, knowing he would soon discover how wet she was.  He gasped as he plunged a finger inside her, feeling her need. “I can’t wait to be inside you,” he whispered into her breasts.

She felt herself spreading her legs wide, needing him to do just that.  But Liam continued still lower, his mouth tracing a path down her belly.  Miranda held her breath in anticipation of what she knew was coming next.  She felt his hot breath between her legs, his hair brushing against her thighs.  Finally, he moved his mouth to her throbbing clitoris and began to lap and suck at her.  Something like a half-moan, half-scream tore from Miranda’s lips as she reached down and twined her fingers in his hair.  She squirmed and writhed as he ever-so-slowly swirled his tongue around her slit, suckling and nibbling her it until Miranda could take no more. She could feel the pressure building inside her and knew that soon she would be past the point of no return. Liam seemed to sense this, too.  He continued to trace circles and patterns around her swollen nub, and soon Miranda felt the explosive heat of her orgasm unleash inside her as she
bucked against his warm tongue.  She cried out over and over as the world exploded into a million pieces around her.  Slowly, slowly, the pieces began to reconstruct themselves, and she came back to reason to find Liam still lying between her legs, gently lapping at her.  

When he felt that her orgasm was spent, he moved back up, positioning himself on top of her and between his legs.  His hard cock found her wet, waiting sex, and he pressed his head slowly against her still-sensitive clitoris before sliding it slowly in between her wet folds.  “Take me!” Miranda whispered, and he slid his head slowly inside her, groaning as he felt her warmth gripping his cock.  She arched her hips to get him more deeply inside her, running her hands up and down along the length of his muscular back.  He slowly rocked his hips to thrust inside her, a little deeper with each thrust.  Her hips moved to match his, thrust for thrust.  She felt alive, desired, and consumed with pleasure as she wrapped her legs around his back.  With each thrust they climbed higher and higher together.  Miranda could feel his tension building as he got harder and larger inside her, and the more he filled her the higher she climbed.  Instinctively, she angled her hips slightly so that his shaft was sliding against her slick, sensitive clitoris, and her legs began to tremble as every nerve ending began to explode once again in pleasure.  She cried out, her interior walls clenching as she came, tightening around him.  He thrust inside her a few more times, speeding up as his orgasm built. Finally, Liam let out a roar of pleasure and emptied himself inside her as her muscles contracted around him.  He continued to move in and out of her, slowing gradually, until finally, panting with exhaustion, he stopped, remaining inside her as they returned to earth.

Panting with exhausted satisfaction, Liam bent to her and kissed her deeply.  They lay like that for a few minutes, with him nuzzling at her neck and her clinging to him. Finally, he pulled out of her gently, sitting down on the couch and pulling her to him.  They remained like that, enlaced, as he brushed his cheek against her hair.  “Miranda…” he whispered. “Miranda.”

After a time he pulled away from her and grasped her by the shoulders, looking deeply into her eyes.
  “Miranda, you are the most beautiful, sexiest, most intoxicating woman I have ever known.”  His eyes clouded.  “I know I can’t ask you to feel what I feel.  I am more certain than ever that you are the one I want to be my mate… but I know I can’t expect a human to understand that so soon. I can wait.  Just promise me… promise me to give me a chance.”

Miranda returned his gaze, and said nothing for a moment.  Somehow – she didn’t know how – she knew that she wanted to be his.  She couldn’t explain it, but there it was.  “Liam, I am yours.”  She smiled tremulously, and then with a clear voice added, “I don’t know how I know this, but I do.  I already am your mate.”

Something unreadable changed in Liam’s expression then.  His eyes bored into her, as if looking for confirmation.  She nodded at him simply, returning his gaze unflinchingly.  Wrapping his arms around her, he kissed her hair and pulled her to him.  Miranda knew that her life would never be the same, but she also knew that this was exactly what she wanted.  Her Liam.  Her love.  Her mate.

#   #   #

Chapter One

The landscape unfurled as the lone car moved along the highway. 
As the driver inside took note of the increasingly dense cover of trees passing him, the tension in his muscles relaxed and his senses sharpened.  His nostrils flared, taking in the sharp scent of maple and ash trees surrounding him. 

The driver of the nimbus grey Audi TT was Nathan Steele, wealthy real estate mogul.  At thirty-two, he had made his fortune young
, and solidified it through a number of lucrative business ventures.  His uncommon acumen had earned him the reputation of having a nose for detecting seeming long shots with potential. 
Not the only thing my nose is good for
, he had thought to himself sardonically the first time he had heard that phrase used in reference to him.  He sometimes wondered if the acuteness of his senses, a byproduct of his second nature, had helped him in his professional life. 

Nathan pressed lightly on the accelerator, and felt the car respond instantly under him. Leaning back, he smiled in anticipation of the next few days.  His work, though he enjoyed it immensely, was demanding, as was the daily effort to keep his more private self at bay, hidden from the world.  The cabin he had purchased three hours to the north of the city was a refuge for him in more ways than one.  This weekend, he had managed to block off four days on his calendar – four days in which he would be free to run, to give in to the needs of his second nature, without fear of discovery.  Nathan inhaled deeply, noticing that the smell of the leaves had shifted subtly as the red pines grew more numerous. 
Almost home
. 

*   *   *

“Fuck you, fat bitch!”

The car retreated into the distance
, the hand of its owner flipping her a one-finger salute as the vehicle disappeared. 

Tears sprang to her eyes, which she angrily brushed away from her face
.  “Fuck you, and good riddance!” she cried, knowing he couldn’t  hear her anymore.  “I’m not all that fat, asshole, if you wanted to fuck me,” she muttered at the disappearing car, raising a choice finger back in response.

Rebecca sighed, scanning the empty road stretching away from her in both directions.  Shit. 
No car, phone out of juice, nothing to do but walk and hope the next town wasn’t too far away.  At least it wasn’t raining.  At least it wasn’t dark. 
Okay, Becca, pick up your feet.
  Sighing again, she bent to pick up her bag, then set off down the road into the unknown. 

She had hoped Matt would be different, but no; he was just another asshole.  At twenty-five, Rebecca ought to have learned how to identify an asshole at fifty paces, she told herself
.  She had sure seen enough of them.  When would she learn?  Was her taste in men really that abysmal?  Granted, she was always attracted to bad boys. 
But they’re never bad in the right way
.  Seemed like every guy Rebecca had ever been with had turned out to be borderline abusive, or just plain worthless.   Or both.  Was it really so much to ask that a guy who was worth the time and effort would be interested in her? 

At first, Matt had been attentive, seeming to take an interest in who she was, what she thought.  He was a mechanic by trade, but he was planning to go back to school full-time for engineering.  At least that’s what he said, though she never saw any evidence of this. She had been attracted to his easy smile and the dimple in his left cheek, as well as the natural five o’clock shadow that didn’t look like it had been trimmed to look that way.  At first it had been good, the sex nice, though it wasn’t like she had a long list of conquests to judge from.  But the past two months or so, he had begun to pick at her: first at her looks, then at things she said and did.  He was critical of her clothes: if she wore something modest, he told her she looked like an old frump.  If she wore something more revealing, well, was she
trying
to look like a slut?  “You’re too fat to wear that.  What the hell are you trying to prove?” he would say.  If he found her talking to another man, even a delivery guy or a bartender, he was immediately suspicious.  “What the hell were you talking about?  You don’t think
he’d
be interested in
you
, do you?  Jesus, you fucking
throw
yourself at men.  Don’t you have any self-respect?!”

And then, there were the digs about her hopes and dreams. True, she was still just a secretary-receptionist at a residential builder firm, but she had plans.  She was passionate about interior design, and had made a commitment to herself to go to school for next fall.  She had already chosen the three schools she wanted to apply to, and was working hard to put away enough money to pay for her first year.  Matt, instead of being supportive, had dismissed her plans as unrealistic.  “You’ll never do it,” he sneered.  “That’s a job for rich wives of
millionaires who have nothing better to do than sit around and decorate each other’s homes.  How is someone like
you
gonna fit in with all those rich snobs?” 

“What do you mean, ‘someone like me’?  And why can’t you just support me?” Rebecca had fired back.

“Okay,” he said with a snort, waving his hand at her. “If you want me to lie to you to make you feel better, fine: You’re gonna do great, honey! Go for it!”  he said in a high-pitched voice, sarcasm dripping from every word.  He shook his head at her, and the expression in his eyes was clear: poor, deluded fat girl.  “Whatever,” he concluded with a roll of his eyes, and slammed out of her apartment.  He didn’t call her for two days after that, and when he did, he acted like nothing had happened.  Stupidly, she had let him come back and had said nothing, relieved to have the episode over.

But of course, it wasn’t over, not really.  Their arguments had escalated, his criticisms growing more mean-spirited and pointed by the day.  Finally, the straw had inconveniently broken the
camel’s back right here, in the middle of nowhere.  They were driving up north for the weekend to visit his parents in the small town where he had grown up, and where his parents still lived.  Matt’s picking at her had escalated over the past few days, and he had finally gone too far in the car when he said that his parents probably thought he was “trading down” by being with her.  Finally, she had had enough, and let herself say what she had been thinking for weeks.

“Matt,” she said matter-of-factly
,  “are you so mean to me because you don’t
want
me to feel good about myself?  Because you don’t want me to succeed?  Is it because if I succeed, you’ll feel like a failure?  Do you need your woman to be less than you in order for you to feel like a man?”

The car had screeched to a sudden halt.  Matt threw the gear into park, and turned to her, his face red with fury. 
“Fuck you, you little cunt!  You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about! You pathetic bitch – you’re lucky to have me, you know that?  You think anyone else would bother with your fat ass?”

“Well, if I’m so pathetic, then what
does it say about you that you’re with me?” she replied calmly, a rod of steel she didn’t know she had steadying her backbone. 

“GET THE FUCK OUT OF THIS CAR!!!”  Matt screamed, pulling back a fist and miming a move to hit her.  In spite of herself, she flinched, and then called his bluff.  Opening the door, she stepped out, making sure to leave the passenger side door open long enough to grab
her bag out of the back before he drove off.  No sooner had she slammed it that the car sped away, its wheels squealing.  “Fuck you, fat bitch!” she heard, and then saw his raised middle finger emerge from the driver’s side window. 

Why, she wondered now as she trudged along the road, was it so hard to find a man who was confident and who didn’t need to break a woman down in order to feel manly?  More than anything, she wanted a man who knew how to take charge, but who respected her. Was that really such an impossible combination to find?

*   *   *

Nathan opened the sunroof to let more scents from the outside reach his nostrils.  He could now smell wildlife:  deer, rabbits, squirrels, even a red fox nearby.  He fought the urge to close his eyes as he breathed deeply, his senses firing overtime now.  He was eager to get to the cabin and peel off his clothing, then dash into the forest and run, run until the blood rushed in his ears.  Then, hunt, for the first time in more than a month.  His body ached for it, his stomach growling at the thought of his first kill. 
I have to get away more often.  It’s torture to wait this long between hunts
. 

Cresting a hill, Nathan became aware of a new scent: definitely mammal, familiar yet strangely hard to identify, and mouth-watering.  Then, in the distance, he saw what it was: a woman, walking along the side of the road, a bag hanging from her hand.  The sun caught her amber-colored hair, gold highlights forming a halo.  Her hips were large and generous, swaying sexily in her form-fitting jeans as she walked.  Nathan felt a tightening in his groin as he stared at her.  Slowing the Audi as he approached, he pressed the button for the passenger-side window.  “Excuse me,” he called when he was even with her.  “Can I help you? Would you like a lift somewhere?”

Rebecca had heard the car, and had hesitated whether to turn around and try to flag it down.  Truth was, out here in the middle of nowhere, she was afraid to seek a ride with a stranger, preferring to just keep walking until she reached the next town or else a farmhouse where she could ask to make a phone call.  She turned, and was momentarily shocked to see such a nice, clearly expensive car on such an isolated road.  “Uh…” she stammered, peering into the car.  “I, uh…”

As she leaned in toward the car, she took off her sunglasses to see the driver, and Nathan got his first look at her face.
Jesus, she’s gorgeous
. Big, amber-colored eyes looked out at him from under dark, arched brows.  Her creamy skin offset a sensual, heart-shaped mouth that Nathan longed to kiss and probe with his tongue.  The woman’s expression was clearly uncertain, and she was giving off a slightly alarmed scent, so he quickly sought to reassure her.  “I promise, I’m not a rapist or a serial killer,” he said, smiling at her.  “Would you like me to give you a ride somewhere? Has your car broken down?”

The woman was silent for a moment, considering how much to tell him. 
“Long story.  No, my car isn’t broken down.  I’m on foot.”  She hesitated, not certain whether to continue.

“I can drive you wherever you’d like.  Honestly.  Don’t you have a cell phone?”

“Battery’s dead,” she admitted.

“Okay, look:
here’s mine,” he said, taking it out and placing it on the dash.  “You can use it to call whomever you want while we drive.”  Seeing that she was still hesitant, he said: “If you’d rather, you can call someone from right here and ask them to come pick you up. But I can’t just drive off and leave you here. I’d be worried something happened to you, and I’d never forgive myself.”

Rebecca stood looking at the impossibly handsome man in his impossibly beautiful and expensive car, and considered the situation.  Her feet were aching, she had no one to call who could come and get her up here, some three hours from the city.  He seemed very nice, and sounded like he honestly wanted to help her.  Exhausted and unable to think of anything else to do, she relented.  “Okay,” she said, “you can drive me to the next town, and I’ll check into a hotel and figure out what to do from there. “

“Deal!” he agreed with a smile, and leaned over to push a button.  The trunk of the TT popped open, and he got out of the car to help her with her bag.  Walking up to her, he put out his hand and said, in a sexy baritone that made her thighs tremble, “My name’s Nathan Steele.”

“Rebecca Kincaid,” she squeaked, letting him envelope her hand in his large, warm one. She tried not to stare at this man, who was even more handsome than she had thought.  He was tall – at least six foot four – and muscular, with wide shoulders that tapered to a slim waist and narrow hips.  A shock of dark, curly hair, eyes
a light amber with flecks of gold.  Chiseled cheekbones that looked like they could cut a steak.  Strong, square jaw; even, white teeth. 
Is he for real?
she thought in wonder. 
Jesus, he could be a male model
.  He was dressed simply, in a fitted T-shirt that accentuated his muscular pecs, and worn, comfortable-looking jeans, which seemed to contrast with the expensive and impeccably clean car.  “Thank you, Mr. Steele,” she said as she climbed into the passenger seat.

“No need to thank me. And
it’s Nathan,” he replied, shutting her door and walking around to the other side.  Putting the car in gear, he continued conversationally: “So, do you live around here?”

“No, I live in the city.”  Rebecca relaxed into the leather seat, her tension seeming to ebb a bit.

“As do I,” he replied. “So, tell me, if it’s not too impolite to ask, what are you doing so far north, on foot, in the middle of nowhere?”

“I, uh…” she stopped, as if considering how much to tell him.  “I came up here with a friend to visit someone. But the friend and I had a fight.  So, here I am.”

“Oh.”  He stole a glance at her; her jaw was set angrily, her lips trembling a little.  He decided not to press for more.