Betting the Billionaire (4 page)

Before they’d started this doomed game of cards at the small table off to the side of the fireplace, she’d emerged from her bedroom in a pair of black yoga pants, a hot pink, long-sleeved T-shirt, and an oversized, gray cardigan. It should have screamed lounging at home. It didn’t. It hollered: Sex goddess. He shifted on the hard wood chair to unobtrusively readjust his suddenly tight pants. He’d been semi-hard for going on an hour now, and his zipper had to be making a permanent imprint.

As Keisha considered the cards in her hand, she tugged the sleeves of the thick wool sweater, pulling it taut across her full tits. If she’d been one of his regular dates, he’d assume it was a calculated move, but not with Keisha. There was just something different about her from the glamazons who catwalked through his little black book, like she wasn’t looking for someone with an oversized bank account to take care of her in a style to which she would grow accustomed.

Keisha’s face lit up. “Rummy!” She slapped down her cards on the table.

He looked down at the mess of non-matching and nonlinear cards in his hand and then at the piles of runs and three-of-a-kinds laid out in neat stacks in front of her. “I think I’ve been hustled.”

“Damn straight.” She laughed, a sound that did more to warm him than the hot toddy ever had.

“You distracted me.” He swept the cards into a pile and started to shuffle. What was it his mom always said about idle hands?

She laughed and relaxed back against the silver painted wood chair. “Oh yeah? With what, my charming story about granny and the dogs who stole the tennis balls off her walker when she left it on the front porch?”

He snorted. “No, but that was pretty damn funny. With those.” He pointed to the foot-high, half-dressed, ceramic elves making out on her mantle.

“Those are the most G-rated ones, too. You should see the other ones my friend, Ellen, gave me for Christmas.” Keisha hid her eyes behind her hand as she shook her head.

“Okay. Let’s see them.”

She peeked at him through her fingers. “I don’t know. They aren’t exactly fit for public.”

Embarrassed or not, there was something about those elves that made her laugh. And Gabe wanted to know everything that made her laugh. Hell, he wanted to be the one to make her laugh next. “You just kicked my ass in rummy. I’m not used to losing, you gotta give me something.”

Keisha dropped her hands to the table and tapped out a beat on the oak with her cherry red nails, eyeing him with that same assessing look she’d given him through the glass door when he’d been outside freezing his balls off. Uncertainty burbled to the surface. Too pushy? Too whiney? Possibly, but he’d risk it. He was a man who saw the advantage and went for it. Second guessing was not his style.

“And what you really want to look at is at my elves?” She arched an eyebrow. “That’s a first.”

He didn’t doubt it. “What are you trying to imply?” The hard-on pressing against his zipper had a damn good idea.

“Not a thing.” She pushed her chair away from the table and stood up. “Come on, I’ll give you the penny tour and show you just how bad my friend’s taste in elves is.”

Keisha tried to maintain a blasé attitude about the set of five Good Time Smexy Elves that Ellen had found online, but she couldn’t keep the embarrassed giggle out of her voice. Of course, Gabe didn’t have that problem. He picked up each cavorting pair and eyed it as if it were a precious Degas instead of an offering to the altar of all that is tacky.

God knew what kind of website Ellen had been trolling when she discovered the lusty ceramics. For the entirety of their twenty-year friendship, Ellen had loved shoving Keisha out of her sheltered comfort zone. She’d scored big with this Christmas gift.

Keisha wasn’t just out of her zone, she was out of her regular orbit.

“Are you a big elf collector?” Gabe sat the last set of elves down on the coffee table, right next to the latest copy of
Interior Living Today
.

“God, no.” She couldn’t miss the teasing glint in his blue eyes or the way sitting next to him on the chaise lounge sent tingles of excitement ricocheting through her body like she’d just inhaled a whole package of Pop Rocks. “Ellen just likes to give me a hard time.”

“I can see why. You’re pretty cute when you blush.” He brushed his finger across her cheek and dipped his head close to hers. “I’ve spent the whole night wanting to kiss you. Tell me you’ve been thinking about it, too.”

Keisha’s breath caught, but not before she inhaled his scent, a teasing mix of sandalwood, fresh snow, and dangerous destiny. She should say no. She wasn’t that girl who made out with a stranger. She was the girl in the church choir as her granny expected. She was the one who baked a week’s worth of dinners for her parents and loaded up their freezer with them every Sunday night. She was prim and proper and everything that made her family proud.

But she didn’t want to be that girl tonight.

She wanted more.

She wanted to be Keisha.

“Yes.” She didn’t wait for him to make a move. Heart thundering in her ears, she—the most cautious person in her family—threw it all to the wind.

Her lips covered his, her tongue sliding across the seam of his mouth and tasting the hot toddy’s ginger ale-tinged kick. Their tongues tangled as she leaned forward into the kiss, devouring him like a long-denied dessert. She opened her mouth, and his tongue swept inside, teasing and tempting her.

But she was done with denial.

Pivoting, she laid her palms against his broad shoulders and pressed him back against the overstuffed chaise lounge. She slid her fingers up the cool, brass-colored zipper holding his coveralls closed, the metal teeth rough against her fingertips. As soon as she pinched the metal tab between her fingers, uncertainty yanked her out of the moment.

This was crazy.

The short hair of his beard tickled her jaw as his lips traveled across her sensitive skin to connect with the spot where her jaw met her earlobe. A spot that, until this moment, she hadn’t realized had a direct line to her clit.

This was amazing
.

She straddled his lap, her yoga pants proving to be more of an enticement than a barrier. God, she hadn’t made out fully clothed on the couch like a teenager since—well, since she was one. But it wasn’t enough. She needed more.

Keisha rocked her hips, gliding herself against his hardness. Wanton. Demanding. Necessary to keep the itch from driving her crazy. “I want to touch you.”

“The feeling’s mutual.” His words tickled the side of her neck as he worked his way south, pushing her comfiest cardigan off her shoulder.

Goose bumps popped up on her newly exposed skin, but it wasn’t because of the cool air. Gabe’s lips grazing her shoulder as he slid aside the straps of her tank top and bra took full credit for her body’s reaction. Her nipples peaked, pushing against her red satin bra and demanding attention. Her body revved like a finely tuned race car during the Brickyard 400.

For the first time since her broken engagement, she wanted to be with a man. This man. Right now. In the morning, she might well blame it all on the strange circumstances brought about by the snow storm, but tonight wasn’t about tomorrow. She tugged the coveralls zipper down, revealing a mile of toned muscle, and slid her hand inside.

Gabe threw back his head as his fingers dug into her hips, pulling her hard against the large bulge still hidden underneath the mechanic’s uniform. His heated response emboldened her as her own warmth soaked her panties.

Keisha scratched her short nails through the coarse hair across his pecs, her core quaking when he moaned his approval. “I’m going to ride you so hard you might regret seeking shelter here.”

“If you don’t, I’m gonna need to go back out and throw myself into a snowbank just to cool off.”

She reached down between them and stroked his hard dick through the baggy coveralls. “You feeling overheated?” Her hand almost circled his covered girth as she moved her hand up and down.

“Fuck me,” he groaned.

“That’s exactly what I intend to do.”

In the next breath, the radio blared to life, the lights snapped on, and her landline rang, piercing her bliss. She blinked as her eyes adjusted to the sudden onslaught. Sometime between his lips on the base of her throat and his fingers inching up her shirt, the power had returned, blasting reality into the room. She did not want to stop now, but ignoring a call wasn’t in her make up.

She pushed against Gabe’s hard chest. “I have to get it.”

He gave the sweet spot at the base of her neck a quick kiss that liquified her body, then he sat up. Desire darkened his eyes, turning her from warm to molten. It took everything she had not to blow off whoever was on the other end of the line. But…she grabbed the phone off the end table.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Baby Girl.” Her father’s voice had a tightness that set off every alarm bell she had. “Are you sitting down? Something’s happened.”

Chapter Five

The view from her kitchen window would have been beautiful if last night’s phone call hadn’t turned her mood as sour as expired milk.

It looked like a holiday commercial or a Christmas card out there. The morning sun’s rays glittered off the fresh hills of snow, giving the icy, top layer a diamond-like appearance. The sky, so gray and angry the day before, had disappeared, replaced by a brilliant, cloudless blue. At any moment, she expected a snowman that talked like Burl Ives to round the corner and break out into song. Instead, the only sound was the crunch of trucks clearing the last of the snowpack from the highways. Just another day in Salvation.

Except it wasn’t.

The delicious man—the one who was hell-bent on buying her family’s business whether her father wanted to sell or not—stood behind her in the kitchen, brewing coffee that had her whole apartment smelling like a Starbuck’s. She’d almost slept with him. And if her father hadn’t brought reality crashing in on her last night, there would be no almost about it.

Way to go, K. Now wouldn
’
t that have been just perfect?

Add to that mess the fact that the only thing keeping her from going to jail for murdering her cousin was her intense aversion to every shade of orange. Well, that and the fact that Tyrell had high-tailed it out of town as soon as he dropped the bomb that he was moving to Key West. Once she got her hands on him, she was going to put a conch somewhere delicate and very painful.

She glanced down at her phone and the e-mail from her soon-to-be-cursed cousin that she’d received at six this morning.
Lifelong dream of being a diving instructor.
Blah. Blah. Blah.
Opportunity I couldn
’
t pass up.
Blah. Blah. Blah.
Knew she
’
d understand.

Oh she understood all right. She was never getting out of Salvation because someone had to stay here to set things at Jacobs Fine Furnishings straight. And, as usual, that someone was her. Big fucking shocker there.

“Everything okay?” Gabe handed her a steaming cup of heaven liberally doused with cream to replace the empty one in her hands.

“Thanks.” She took a sip and couldn’t help but close her eyes in ecstasy. “Depends on your definition of okay.”

“The Oxford American English one?”

Once again dressed in his own clothes, Gabe looked out of place in her tiny apartment. In the light of day, his style screamed money bags with his high-end designer sweater and the jeans from a store that didn’t even have a place for a discount rack. Rich and privileged, she was not. She was boho chic with oversized fake fur fox scarves and an afro that even a wind tunnel couldn’t dent.

They weren’t two sides of the same coin, they were completely different currencies.

Last night had been an anomaly. A one-time occurrence. With her life, she couldn’t afford play time with the rich and famous—especially when the billionaire in question wanted nothing more than to buy the family business. She couldn’t let that happen. It would kill her dad.

The diesel thunder of a tow truck engine announced Hud’s arrival. Peeking out of the window, she spotted Fix ‘Er Up’s owner getting out of the truck armed with a rarely-used snow blower and wearing a bright red baseball cap adorned with the Salvation Devils high school football team logo.

“Looks like your ride’s here.” She nodded toward the window.

Gabe kept his blue eyes focused only on her. “I’d like to do this again some time.”

Bittersweet didn’t begin to cover it. This whole situation was as shitty as a crap car held together with Duct tape. But that didn’t change anything. So instead of shoving the tall drink of Hottie McAbs into her bedroom so they could finish what they’d started last night, she smirked. Nothing covered up disappointment like distance and distain.

“You want to almost freeze to death in a freak snow storm in an area where the first flake sends folks to the grocery store for all the bottled water and canned goods on the shelves?”

“No.” He settled his hands on her shoulders and turned her until she faced him head-on, sending frissons of awareness crackling across her skin. “I want to see you again.”

It was too much, too soon with the totally wrong guy. “I don’t think so.”

“Why?”

Because she’d been down the bad boy path before, and it had ended with her returning a bazillion unopened wedding gifts and explaining to her family why their perfect almost son-in-law wasn’t perfect for her. But she wasn’t about to hang her dirty laundry on the line for him to see.

She back-stepped out of his grasp. “My life just got really complicated, and I don’t have time for a meaningless fling with someone obsessed with buying my family’s business, which, by the way, we do not want to sell.”

“Ouch.” His lips disappeared into a straight line hidden by his mustache and beard.

He rubbed the short hairs, and she could almost feel the scratch of his beard against the curve of her shoulder. Her nipples hardened at the flashback, and she fisted her hands tight enough that her nails bit into her palms. Time to nip this shit in the bud before her resolve drowned a slow death in his blue eyes.