Stripping the Billionaire Read online

  “You should walk over to the cemetery and look at your brother’s grave,” the pastor said to him. “Your mother keeps the flowers so beautifully.”

  Ben felt a kick in his heart at the words and felt Mandy stiffen beside him.

  She was giving him a surprised, confused look as he hurried them through the parking lot toward the car.

  He hadn’t told her about Michael, his brother who had died in a tragic car accident years ago.

  He didn’t like to think about Michael.

  He certainly wasn’t going to go to the cemetery and look at Michael’s grave.

  ***

  Mandy was emotional all day.

  She didn’t think of herself as a weepy woman, so she wasn’t sure why “Amazing Grace” had hit her so hard in church that morning. Just that she remembered singing it in church as a kid with her parents. It had been one of the few songs that she really knew, so she’d always sung it out really loud.

  It made her remember how safe she’d felt with her parents, how loved she’d felt, how secure and known and part of a family she’d been.

  She hadn’t felt that way since.

  But it was annoying that she couldn’t seem to shake it, even when they went to brunch at a lovely, Southern restaurant and then got to work on plans for the house again.

  Even when they had a pleasant dinner outside in the garden, she couldn’t shake the poignant feeling.

  In bed that night, she cried about it again.

  She didn’t like to wallow in grief, so after crying for a few minutes, she made herself get up and go downstairs for a bottle of water, mostly as a distraction.

  Mrs. Damon had gone to bed two hours ago, and Ben had gone to bed when she had, so she didn’t think she would disturb anyone.

  But Ben opened his door as she was about to reenter her room.

  “Are you okay?” he asked. He didn’t look sleepy, so he must have been awake. He wore a pair of boxer shorts and nothing else.

  “Yeah,” she said, feeling a surge of emotion again at the question. “Just getting water. Sorry if I bothered you.”

  Her voice cracked strangely, so she turned away to enter her bedroom.

  Ben came with her.

  “Are you sure?” he murmured, cupping her face and tilting her head toward his. “You look like you’ve been crying.”

  “I have,” she admitted, since it was ridiculous not to admit it. “It’s silly.”

  “You were quiet all day. Can’t you tell me what’s wrong? What happened in church that upset you so much?”

  She sighed, pulling away from his hand. She went back to her bed and got under the covers, hoping he’d take that as a sign that he couldn’t stay in here long.

  “I was just thinking about my mom and dad. We used to sing ‘Amazing Grace’ when we went to church, and it brought back all those memories. I’m not usually like this. It’s really not that big a deal.”

  Instead of taking the hint that he should leave, he came over and sat down on the edge of her bed. His beard and hair were disarrayed, but there was something masculine, powerful about the breadth of his shoulder, the lines of his bare chest, the way his lean abdomen tapered down to the waistband of his shorts.

  When her body began to like the look of his body, Mandy realized it was really not a good idea for him to be sitting on her bed this way.

  He was still focused on the conversation, though. “I don’t think there’s anything silly about missing your parents. I don’t think it’s wrong to cry about them sometimes.”

  For some reason, his sympathy and understanding prompted another surge of emotion. She twisted her face to control it. “Thank you. I think I’m a pretty happy person in general. You know? I have a good life. But I don’t know if I’ll ever feel as safe and content and connected as I did with them.”

  She sniffed and blotted at her eyes with the back of her hands.

  Ben moved over in the bed so he was propped against the headboard. Then he pulled her under the crook his arm. “I know,” he murmured. “I know.”

  She huddled against him, taking comfort in his warmth and his strength. Even the beard didn’t feel scratchy as it rubbed against her skin. It was softer than she’d expected.

  “Sometimes I’m just…lonely,” she admitted, feeling like she could speak the truth right now. In the dim room. With Ben. She felt like she could be heard. Understood. Safe.

  “I know.” He was stroking her bare arm and her hair now

  “I have great friends. I have nothing to complain about. But I think that’s why I’m so focused on finding a husband. Because I want to…I want to feel that way again. Sometimes, I’m just…lonely.”

  “I know.” He tilted his head down to nuzzle at her hair. “So am I.”

  The vulnerability in the words surprised her, since Ben was never vulnerable. She looked up toward his face, and was surprised to see something on his face that looked like hunger, longing, need.

  She’d never seen anything like it.

  Her breath hitched. “Ben?”

  “Oh, Cupcake,” he murmured with a rasp in his voice.

  Then he was tilting his head down even farther and meeting her lips with his.

  It wasn’t like the little kiss from the day before—that had been light, almost playful.

  This was deep immediately, hungry immediately. She opened her mouth to his as a wave of intense need overwhelmed her.

  She needed Ben. Needed all of him. She needed his understanding and his strength and his humor. This connection she was feeling with him. She needed his warm presence. His body. So much.

  His tongue explored her mouth as he eased her down onto her back, moving over her with an urgent entitlement that thrilled her.

  “Mandy,” he murmured, lightening the kiss so his lips were just playing against hers for a few moments. There was a palpable tension in his body, though. “Mandy, please tell me if you want me to stop.”

  It was too fast. A little voice in the back of her mind was screaming that this was too fast. She and Ben weren’t ready for this yet. But the rest of her drowned out that little voice with a desperate, needy desire she’d never felt before.

  “Oh, God,” she gasped, reaching around to run her hands up and down the strong planes of his back. “I don’t want you to stop. Please, don’t stop.”

  He groaned deep in his throat and devoured her mouth in another kiss. This time, he moved over her more fully until she could feel his weight resting on her, the firm lines of his body pressing into hers.

  She rubbed up against him, already eager, already hungry for him. She had no idea where it had come from—only there was an emptiness inside of her that it felt like he might be able to fill.

  She wore a pretty pale blue camisole and pajama pants set in a soft fabric. It was so thin, though, she could feel the texture of his body as it moved over her. The heat from his skin. The coarseness of the hair on his chest. The hardness growing at his groin, rubbing against her hip.

  He broke the kiss so he could pull her camisole off over her head, and he stared down at her bare breasts, breathing heavily.

  “Fuck,” he bit out, reaching out almost gently to cup one and tease the nipple with his thumb. “Oh, fuck, Cupcake. You’re perfect.”

  She didn’t think her body was perfect, but she felt that way under his hot gaze. Her groin was starting to pulse with excitement as he gazed and fondled her almost delicately.

  “You’ve got a pretty nice chest yourself,” she managed to say, reaching up to rub her palms against it. “You should go shirtless more—”

  Her words broke off as he moved his other hand to her other breast. The sensation were so intense at his dual caress that she cried out sharply and arched up dramatically.

  “What were you saying?” he murmured, his eyes never leaving her face and body.

  “Can’t…” She breathed raggedly and fumbled at the bedding as her pleasure rose quickly. She couldn’t believe he was doing this to her when he hadn
’t yet moved below the waist. “…remember.”

  “I knew you would be passionate like this.” He kept fondling one breast but used the other hand to slide off her pajama pants. “So responsive. I knew it.”

  “Please, Ben.” She was practically writhing as arousal overwhelmed her, but she managed to coordinate her hands enough to grab the waistband of his shorts and tug down.

  He grunted as his erection got caught in the fabric, and then he released her enough to help her strip his clothes off completely.

  When they were both completely naked, he lowered his head to take one nipple in his mouth, and he teased it with lips and tongue until she was biting her lip to stifle the helpless sounds.

  “I can’t wait anymore.” She was clawing at the back of his shoulders. “Ben, please, I don’t want to wait anymore.”

  He lifted his head and gazed down at her with something more than heat in his eyes. With a yearning that matched hers. “Then you don’t have to. Mandy, you don’t have to.”

  She hauled his head down to kiss him again, and soon they were rocking together in the motion of lovemaking.

  “Oh, fuck,” Ben gasped, tearing his mouth away and turning his head to the side. “I don’t have a condom. Fuck, fuck, fuck. I didn’t think I’d…”

  He didn’t finish, but he didn’t need to. And she was intensely pleased that he hadn’t expected to have sex in the two weeks they were here.

  “I have one.” She lowered her hands so she wasn’t holding him in place. “The side pocket of my purse.”

  With a groan of relief, he climbed out of the bed and limped over to get it.

  She watched him—her eyes raking over his fine, naked body and prominent erection.

  Even with the untrimmed beard, she’d never seen a man she wanted more.

  She wasn’t sure how this thing was happening, but there was no question that it was. He came back to bed, and she took the condom out of his hand.

  She stroked him first, listening for the way his breath hitched, feeling his body tighten in response. Then she rolled the condom on.

  “Mandy, are you sure?” he asked, when he positioned himself between her legs.

  She’d never been so sure of anything in her life. “Oh, yeah. I’m sure.”

  Four

  Ben’s mind was a hot, whirling vortex of need, pleasure, and longing as he slowly eased himself inside her.

  It had all happened so fast. If he could think about it, he might recognize that this was far too fast. A very bad idea.

  But there was too much else driving him, and he simply couldn’t be held back.

  He needed Mandy. More than anything. And she was giving herself to him.

  She seemed to need him too.

  He was incapable of pulling back now—not unless she changed her mind.

  Her body was soft and lush and supple as she arched up and adjusted to his penetration.

  “Oh, fuck,” he gritted out when he was sheathed inside her. She was tight and wet and hot, even through the condom. She was better than anything he’d ever felt. “Oh, fuck, cupcake, you’re perfect.”

  She was making little sounds, almost whimpers, but he checked her face and saw that it was from pleasure and not from discomfort. “Is it good, Mandy?” he asked, wanting to hear her say it.

  “Yeah.” She rocked her hips, making them both moan at the friction. “Oh, yeah, it’s the best thing ever.”

  His chest filled with a primitive kind of pride, and he leaned down to kiss her again.

  Their lips and tongues moved in the same rhythm as their bodies. He wasn’t thrusting yet. Just rocking with her, getting used to the feeling, trying to pull himself under control so he could really please her.

  It was so important to please her. To give her what she needed. It felt like a special burden—heavy in his chest—and he wasn’t going to push it aside.

  So he lifted his head and stared down at her flushed face and her hair spread out messily around her. Her expression twisted slightly when he gave a little thrust. When he gave another one, she arched her neck and sucked in a breath.

  “Oh, Ben, it feels incredible. But I need a lot more than that.” She must have noticed him studying her face, and she lifted a hand to cup his jaw with a little smile.

  He couldn’t help but smile back. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d smiled while he was having sex. “You got it.”

  He built up a steady rhythm then, the motion and the clasp of her body firing off jolts of pleasure. Soon, she was panting and bending up her knees, tightening around him.

  Her face was beautiful, overcome with building pleasure. Her hands clawed at him eagerly, shamelessly, as she moved her hips just as urgently as he did.

  He was drowning in her—not just the feel of her body but the depth and sweetness of her spirit. Because she was with him in this—with him all the way—as if she was touching the deepest parts of him.

  Parts he thought no one could touch.

  And he suddenly realized he wasn’t going to last much longer. The intensity of his pleasure, his need, his desperate hunger for her were simply too much.

  He stifled a groan as he moved over her harder, faster.

  “Yeah,” she gasped, her hands dropping to the bed and fumbling for purchase on the bedding. “Ben, oh, Ben, oh, Ben.”

  And that repeated refrain was the most intoxicating thing he’d ever heard. As intoxicating as the tightening of her muscles around him.

  His hips kept working between her legs, completely out of control now—except the last thread that was keeping him from coming.

  “Mandy,” he grunted, straightening his arms for more leverage. “Cupcake, you have to…come…soon.”

  “Trying.” She writhed and made a sobbing sound. Then she squeezed her hand down between their bodies to rub her clit.

  He muffled a roar as he felt her clamping down around him, and her cry of relief was just as uninhibited, although she too stifled it by turning her mouth toward her shoulder.

  Then her whole body was shaking through an orgasm, and he could finally let himself go.

  His climax took him fast and hard, and he was breathless at the end of it. He found enough energy to roll off her and take care of the condom.

  Then he collapsed back beside her.

  She snuggled up against him, and he put his arm around her to hold her close.

  He wanted to hold her. Desperately. But he also felt a familiar instinct to pull away. To escape.

  What had just happened was too much. Went too deep. Left him too vulnerable.

  And it had been years since he’d let himself be vulnerable in any way or let anything this powerful control him.

  He wasn’t going to hurt Mandy, though. Not if he could help it.

  “I can’t believe we just did that,” she said at last, kissing his shoulder and then looking up toward his face.

  “I know. I’m not sure where it even came from.” He’d been attracted to her for a while, but he’d resolved never to act on it. And he’d certainly never dreamed she could be attracted to him.

  “It was good, though.” She reached over to grab his left arm and ran her fingers up and down his tattoo. “I can’t believe how good it was.”

  “Why would you doubt it would be good?” He managed to keep the edge out of his voice, not wanting her to hear that he felt ridiculously insulted at the idea that she’d not expected him to be a good lover.

  She giggled and gave him another little kiss, this one on his chest.

  He reached over to push her long, soft hair behind her shoulders so it wouldn’t hide her face. “I asked you a question.”

  “I know.” She was smiling at him. “I figured you’d be good in bed, but I didn’t think we’d be good together. If you get my meaning.”

  He did get her meaning. Of course, she wouldn’t have thought they’d be good together. They were so different. In so many ways.

  She stretched up so she could kiss his mouth—still light, gent
le. “And I’ve got to say, you’re a remarkably good kisser, even with the ridiculous beard.”

  He couldn’t help but smile back against her lips. “You should have believed me. I told you it would have no resemblance to kissing a gorilla.”

  His effort at humor was rewarded when she giggled again as she reached down to grab her pajamas and pull them back on.

  He was reaching for his shorts when she asked, “Will you stay with me tonight?” She was sitting up in bed, rumpled and beautiful. And poignant again, somehow, despite her laughter the minute before.

  He didn’t want to leave. He wanted to stay with her so much that it terrified him, roused an instinct to flee.

  “I don’t feel…lonely when I’m with you.”

  There was no way he could leave her—no matter how hard instinct drove him. Not when she needed him.

  Not when he needed her. So much.

  He couldn’t make his throat work so he just nodded and pulled the covers over both of them.

  “You should probably go back to your room early tomorrow, though, before your mom wakes up. I don’t want her to be shocked if she catches you leaving my room.”

  Ben smiled at her tone. “I will. Although I don’t think she’d be shocked. She likes her traditions, but she knows the way things are.”

  The truth was his mother would probably be pleased. She really liked Mandy. She was clearly hoping he’d settle down with her.

  The thought made Ben deeply uncomfortable so he didn’t think about it.

  “I didn’t know you had a brother,” Mandy said after a few minutes of silence. She was pressed up against his side, and he could feel every move she made. He’d felt her tense up the moment before, as if she was nervous about bringing it up.

  He hated the idea of her being nervous to talk to him. About anything. So his voice wasn’t as cool as it might have been normally. “I know. I never talk about him.”

  “What happened to him?”

  “He died. When I was seventeen.”

  “I’m really sorry. That must have been terrible. What happened?”

  Ben felt cold tension running up and down his spine as he thought about what happened. Michael had been drunk. They’d found that out less than two years ago. He’d killed one of the passengers—a teenaged girl—and he’d seriously injured the other girl.