Stripping the Billionaire Read online

  “I don’t think any of these are going to fit.” She lifted one jacket and eyed it carefully, as if she could gauge relative size better than he could. “They’re good quality, but they’re all out of style anyway.”

  “How do suits go out of style? Aren’t they always the same?”

  “No. They’re definitely not. Besides, I thought the cotillion was black tie. Don’t you have a tux?”

  “I don’t have a tux. My mom said a suit would be fine.”

  Mandy met his eyes, and it felt like she was seeing something inside him that no one else had ever seen. “Of course, she said it would be fine,” she murmured, almost gently. “She’s just happy that you’re going with her at all. But you’ll be the only one there who’s not wearing black-tie. You should really wear a tux.”

  Ben released a breath, and it came out as almost a groan. “I guess. I just hate the idea of it. Damons wear tuxes. I don’t.” He felt almost stupid as he said the words, since they revealed more than he was in the habit of revealing.

  “I know. But she’s your mom, and it will make her happy. Isn’t it worth putting on a tux for one evening?”

  He rubbed his face, his palm scratching against his beard. From reason, the facial hair felt more hot and itchy than it ever had before. “Yeah,” he said at last.

  Her face broke into a smile, and he knew he’d made the right decision. It had to be the right decision, if she looked so pleased and appreciative.

  He’d do a lot more than wear a tux to make her look that way at him.

  “You should come to this thing too,” he said in a spontaneous outburst.

  “What? To the cotillion, you mean?”

  “Yeah. Why don’t you come too? My mom got you an invitation, and she’d love if you’d attend.”

  “I thought you didn’t want me to.” She lowered her eyes so he couldn’t see their expression.

  He lifted her chin. “Only because I was trying to keep my identity secret. I don’t need to do that anymore. I would like for you to come. If you don’t mind.”

  “I don’t mind. I’d love to come. Only I have to buy something to wear.”

  “Maybe you can find something when you help me find a tux. I’m going to need some help.”

  She was smiling at him again—full, sunny, glowing. He was momentarily breathless, gazing down at her. He wondered what he’d ever done to deserve her smiling at him that way. “I can’t wait,” she said. “Never in my life did I think I’d get to help you pick out a tux.”

  Never in his life did Ben think he’d have to put on a tuxedo again.

  ***

  Mandy wanted to go shopping that afternoon, but Ben talked her out of it. The next morning, however, despite how he tried to convince her that they should work on the house instead, she wouldn’t relent, so they had to go.

  After talking to his mother about the place they should shop, Mandy navigated them to a fancy shop that stocked only formal attire. As soon as he walked in, Ben got that heavy, sick, Damon-feeling in his gut.

  Everything was way too expensive. Way too traditional. Way too Damon.

  He’d tried for six years not to have anything to do with all this stuff. And now it felt like he was losing all that ground and starting to invest himself in pleasing other people the way he had before.

  “It will be fine,” Mandy murmured, evidently sensing his mood. She was pressed close to his side and reached up to stroke his beard. “It’s just one evening. It doesn’t mean you have to go back to being that other person.”

  He nodded, feeling immediately better. She was right. Helping his mom out this one time didn’t mean he had to become a Damon again. No use to overreact here.

  A saleswoman came over immediately to help them, and soon she and Mandy were discussing the merits of dozens of tuxedos that all looked exactly the same to Ben. He just let Mandy handle it. Clearly, there wasn’t anything he could offer to the conversation.

  When Mandy was looking at a few different evening gowns for herself, he did offer that he liked the red one the best.

  She made him go try two of the tuxes while she took the red gown to try on herself.

  “Make sure you come out so I can see it on you,” Mandy said through the dressing room wall.

  “Fine.”

  He pulled it on, and it fit pretty well. He didn’t look as much like a dressed-up monkey as he’d feared.

  Then he heard Mandy’s voice from outside the door. “Come out and let me see.”

  With a sigh, he opened the door. Then froze as he saw Mandy in the red dress.

  The gown was sleeveless and cut very simply, clinging to her lush figure until he fell to the floor with a very high slit up one leg. But the color and the stark simplicity made her look so stunning he literally lost his breath.

  She was evidently unconscious of how gorgeous she looked. She was assessing his tux in a way that made it clear she knew what she was doing. “This one is good,” she said, smiling at him. “It might be a little tight across the shoulders. Does it feel tight?”

  “A little.” He was pleased his voice sounded natural since he was suffering from the almost irresistible impulse to drag her into the dressing room and take her hard and fast.

  “We can make some minor alterations before Saturday,” the saleswoman said helpfully. Ben had forgotten she was even present.

  “Good. I think we should go with this one. It’s classic and looks really good.” Mandy was brushing her hands down the lines of the suit, which was doing nothing to help Ben rein himself in. “Is that okay, Ben?”

  “Yeah,” he managed to say. If she didn’t step back in about five seconds, he was literally going to grab her and haul her against him so he could feel that body against his.

  “What’s the matter?” She was peering at him in concern. “Is it really so hard to wear a tux?”

  He almost laughed at how clueless she was about his reaction to her. “It’s fine. Are you going to get that dress?”

  “I think so. I like it.”

  “I like it too.”

  She smiled at him, and she might have finally noticed a little of what he was feeling. “Then I’ll definitely get the dress.”

  ***

  That evening, Ben stared at himself in the bathroom mirror, holding a pair of scissors.

  He wasn’t sure when he’d made the decision. He wasn’t sure if he’d even made it yet. But something had been growing in him over the last two weeks, and the beard seemed to be getting scratchier and more oppressive by the day.

  Maybe he should just get rid of it.

  Maybe the world wouldn’t totally fall apart if he shaved.

  It if it was a mistake, then he could just let it grow out again.

  He stood for several minutes, holding the scissors, not doing anything.

  He felt frozen and dizzy and kind of stupid, torn this way about something that just shouldn’t be a big deal.

  Then there was a tap on the door. “Ben?” It was Mandy. Impossible not to recognize her voice. “Are you okay?”

  It took him a minute to get his voice to work. “Yeah.”

  “Are you sick? You’ve been in there a long time.”

  He had no idea how long he’d been in the bathroom. “Sorry. Do you need to use it?”

  “Seriously, Ben, are you okay?”

  She sounded so concerned that Ben couldn’t stand it. He swung open the door without thinking.

  So she saw him, standing shirtless in the bathroom with the pair of scissors in his hand.

  She wore an oversized t-shirt and a little pair of shorts, and she raised her hand to cover her mouth when she registered his appearance. “Oh, my God, Ben!” she breathed.

  He felt a wave of something hot and cold at the same time. Everything was happening so quickly. Too quickly. He wasn’t even sure what was happening.

  But here he was, getting ready to shave for the first time in years.

  She seemed to understand something of what he was feeling beca
use her shocked expression relaxed into tenderness. “Do you want me to help?”

  He swallowed hard and handed her the scissors. It felt like he was shaking inside, but his hands weren’t visibly trembling. He just felt so strange. More vulnerable than he’d ever felt in his life.

  “I brought the trimmer. That will help. Stay right here and don’t move.” She put a hand on his shoulder, as if trying to hold him in place, and then hurried out of the bathroom to her room.

  She returned in less than a minute. Ben hadn’t moved an inch.

  Her brown eyes were soft and anxious as she peered up at his frozen face. “You’re sure about this, Ben? I don’t want to pressure you into doing it or anything.”

  “I’m sure.” He thought he was sure, although he wasn’t sure about anything anymore.

  “Okay. I’m going to cut a lot of the length off. Then use the trimmers to get closer. Okay?” She was still scanning his face, as if trying to get a sense of what he was feeling.

  “That’s fine. Go ahead.”

  She took one piece of his beard between his fingers, smoothing down the coarse hair very gently. Then she raised the scissors. “You’re sure, Ben?”

  “Damn it, Cupcake. Just do it.”

  She snipped.

  Then they both stared down at the piece of dark hair she held.

  Ben let out a breath, since the decision was made. There was no turning back now.

  Mandy pulled the little trash pail closer and dropped the hair in.

  “That wasn’t so bad,” she said with a little smile. “You look less gorilla-like already.”

  He knew she was trying to lighten the mood, so he returned her smile.

  She moved quicker after the first snip, clipping the length of his beard down in fast, sure snips of the scissors. He didn’t look in the mirror, although it was within his view.

  He also didn’t look at the pile of hair that was collecting in the trash pail.

  “Okay,” she said at last, putting the scissors down. “It’s time for the trimmer.” Her voice cracked slightly, so he wondered if she was as affected by this process as he was.

  He didn’t know why she would be. He didn’t even know why he was. It shouldn’t have been an emotional process. It shouldn’t have meant anything at all.

  The trimmers buzzed on, and she ran them across his jaw, chin, and neck. She was standing very close to him by necessity, and he was suddenly very conscious of her body.

  She wasn’t a tiny woman, but she felt small next to him. Small and soft and warm and real. Her breasts brushed against his chest occasionally as she moved around, trimming the hair on his face.

  Ben felt his shoulders tensing, his thighs tightening, his groin hardening slowly.

  And his heart pounding so much it literally hurt.

  Eventually, she put down the trimmers and brushed the hair from his face and chest.

  Then she reached for the shaving cream and razor he’d retrieved before. She didn’t say anything as she lathered up his face.

  Her hands were careful, almost delicate, as she brought the razor down his jaw in stroke after stroke. He heard the scratchy sound as the metal caught the hair, and the motion, the sound, was strangely sensual, strangely mesmerizing.

  He was fully aroused by the time she’d done half his face, and there was something deeper, stronger, happening in his chest. Her face was just inches from his, focused and beautiful and full of care.

  He was holding himself back by nothing more than the force of his will as she made the final strokes and rubbed her hand over his skin. He assumed it was to check for remaining stubble, but it felt like a caress.

  Then she put down the razor and wet a washcloth in the sink, rubbing it slowly over his face.

  Ben’s breathing was ragged as she gazed at him full in the face for the first time. Ever.

  The beard was gone. Everything he’d hid behind for years was gone.

  He was completely vulnerable before her. Utterly exposed. Stripped completely bare.

  “Oh, God, Ben,” she murmured brokenly as she cupped his jaw with one of her hands, emotion breaking in her expression. “I love your face.”

  And there was no way to hold him back after that.

  With a low groan, he reached out for her and pulled her into a hard kiss. She whimpered as she opened for him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  He claimed her mouth with his lips and tongue and tangled his fingers through her long hair. Her body pressed up against him. He could feel the texture of her t-shirt and her soft breasts, and it fired up his nerve endings even more.

  He needed her. Desperately. Ravenously. Like he wasn’t whole, he wasn’t complete, unless he was touching, kissing, claiming, loving her.

  He could hear her panting as he broke the kiss to press his mouth against her jaw and down her neck. Her fingers were clawing at the back of his shoulders as she arched eagerly against him.

  “Ben, please,” she gasped.

  “What, baby?” He could barely think through the roar of need and hunger in his head, in his chest, in his pulsing arousal.

  “Will you take me to bed?”

  “Yes.” He reached down to cup her bottom and started to lift her. She knew what to do and wrapped her legs around his middle and her arms around his neck. “Fuck, yes.”

  She was kissing his face with passionate enthusiasm as he walked them into her bedroom, and the feel of her lips against his bare skin was so new, so tantalizing, that he didn’t trust his balance.

  When he reached her bed, he laid her down and stared at her. She was beautifully flushed and aroused, and she was reaching out to pull him down on top of her.

  And it was worth it. Everything it had taken to get to this point—the loss of his vows, his protection, his beard, his security—all of it was worth it.

  If it meant he could have this.

  Nine

  Mandy gazed up at the face of a stranger—only he wasn’t.

  He was Ben, and she knew he was Ben. She’d just never seen his face before.

  He looked younger, softer somehow. His jaw was strong, with just a hint of a cleft. In the bathroom, the difference between his tanned upper face and untanned lower face had been noticeable, but it wasn’t in her mostly dark bedroom. She just saw his dark eyes, his smooth face, his big body as she pulled him down on top of her into the bed.

  She was deeply turned on, but she was more than that. She was dizzy from the force of her emotional need, the bone-deep desire to be close to him, in every possible way.

  So she made a little whimper when he didn’t kiss her again. He held himself above her and stared down at her face.

  “Ben, please,” she said, reaching up to stroke his face again. She couldn’t seem to stop touching his skin, bare to her eyes, to her fingers, for the very first time. “I need you now.”

  “I need you too.” His arms were very tense as he braced himself above her, and his eyes were deep and hot.

  “Then why did you stop?”

  He gave her a hint of a smile, more obvious now that his agile lips weren’t covered by the beard. “I thought I should pull myself together a little bit first.”

  She smiled in relief and a rush of affection. “I don’t care if you pull yourself together or not. I just want you.”

  “I want you too,” he murmured, his voice a little thicker than before. “Only you. All of you. Even if it means breaking every vow I ever made for myself.”

  She was momentarily speechless as the words processed. She wasn’t sure what vows he was talking about, but she knew it was significant. She knew this was a step Ben had never believed he would take. She knew it would change everything.

  And she wasn’t afraid. Her heart felt like it was so full, it would just burst through her chest as she reached up to draw him down. “I don’t want you to pull yourself together, Ben. Please make love to me now.”

  He gave a rough groan as his elbows buckled, and he lowered himself enough to kiss her with
naked passion. She moaned into his mouth with pleasure since it was exactly what she wanted.

  Her hands kept stroking his face as their tongues dueled and danced. And her arousal pulsed with even more power as she felt him start to rock his body down into hers.

  She whimpered in disappointment when he tore his mouth away, and then gasped as he kissed his way down her neck. He mouthed her breast over her t-shirt a few times, just enough to tease, and then he gathered the fabric up to pull it off over her head.

  She wasn’t wearing a bra beneath it, so her breasts were exposed to his view. And then his mouth.

  The sensations from his mouth on her nipple tugged between her legs. She pressed up into his mouth and tried to wrap one leg around his hips.

  “Ben,” she gasped.

  He murmured wordlessly in response, stroking his way down with one hand until he’d found the waistband of her shorts. Then he slid his fingers underneath.

  “Ben,” she tried again, arching up as the pleasure was so sharp she couldn’t stay still. “I’m ready to go now.”

  “I know you are.” He raised his head to gaze hotly at her face. “But I want to make you come like this first. I want to make you come for me over and over again.”

  She reached up instinctively to grab the headboard as his fingers found her wet arousal. “Feeling kind of ambitious, aren’t you?” she managed to tease.

  Her attempt was rewarded when he chuckled over her breast, the vibrations torturously good.

  He slid one finger and then another inside her and started to pump them slickly as he twirled her nipple with his tongue. The dual sensations were so strong that she choked on a cry and bucked her hips up into his pumping.

  And then, before she knew to expect it, she was spasming around his fingers and biting her lip to keep from crying out too loudly as an orgasm rocked her.

  He lifted his head from her breast with a smile.

  “That was just one,” she said breathlessly, even though she was pretty sure she was grinning like an idiot. “You said you were going to make me come over and over again.”

  “Well, who said I was done?” He kissed his way farther down her body.

  She reached down toward his head with a gasp. “Ben, you don’t have to—oh God!”