Billionaires Dollar Series

He nods.

“And?” I let the word drawl. “Don’t we both get a gold star?”

His hands grip the wheel tightly as he pulls out of my brother’s driveway. We pause on the other side of the gate, blocking the way while the giant wrought-iron gates close behind us. Always security-minded.

“So you had a crush on me.” His voice is tight. “What an interesting little tidbit.”

“You can’t just ignore that, can you? Pretend you never heard it?”

“Not likely, Blair.”

“It was a long time ago,” I say. There’s no need for him to know all the gory details-that the crush had lingered throughout the years, that every time I’d seen him it had reawakened and kept me wishing.

“So it had nothing to do with yesterday? With the last couple weeks of…” His voice dies out, but I hear the words. Of throwing yourself at me.

Can you sink through a car with embarrassment? I’m about to, burning a hole through the steel until his expensive car becomes a Fred Flintstone vehicle.

A hundred different responses flit through my mind. Do I play it off as a joke, too? There’s no way Nick will handle it well if I say yes.

“It had nothing to do with that,” I say firmly. “I was what, eighteen when we met? No, it’s in the past. Cole was an ass to bring it up, but it means nothing.”

Nick releases a breath. “That’s what I figured.”

“Good,” I say. “So I don’t want you to worry. I’m not expecting anything to come from this.” I cross my legs in the car, and his eyes dart to them again. Victory, I think, even as my heart beats with the word defeat.

He shifts lanes smoothly, passing by a slower car. “You have no expectations,” he repeats.

“All right,” he says, and somehow, it sounds like he’s the injured party. “But I’ll be damned if the one time I had you was at a party where I couldn’t even hear you moan properly. So when we get to yours, I’m coming upstairs, and I’m going to make you count how many times you come tonight. I’m aiming for a minimum of three.”

My breath whooshes out of my chest at that. There are no words in response to that declaration, none at all. I can’t even form thoughts.

He reaches out and puts a hand on my thigh. I look at it there, at the broad, tan skin and the curl of his fingers. “Are you attacking me, Mr. Park?”

The curl of his lips is back. “You’ll recognize it when I do,” he says. And when we park outside my apartment building… well, he follows me up.

Nick follows me into my apartment with a hand on my low back. Nerves and excitement dance through me.

I feel alive-I feel powerful.

His eyes scan the apartment in quiet perusal. For so many years it’s been completely unthinkable that he would ever be here. An alien visit to Earth felt far likelier than Nick Park and me alone together in my home.

And yet, here we are.

The building is one of Cole’s early projects, and like so many things in my life, it’s not something I worked to gain myself. Is he judging me for that?

“This is a nice place.”

Nick walks to the giant windows in my living room. They overlook the city, and not for the first time, I wish I could read his mind.

“Do you want a glass of brandy?”

“If you have it, yes. Sure.”

I search through my makeshift bar cart in the corner, fishing out a bottle that Cole must have left here sometime. It’ll have to do. I walk past my study on the way back to him-it’s simple enough to close the door with my foot. There’s no reason he should see the mess of clothing samples in there.

Nick turns to me. His eyes sweep over my form again, and this time, there’s no hiding the want in them.

“Here,” I say softly, handing him the drink.

“Your place looks exactly like I expected it to.”

“And what was that?”

He swirls the amber-colored liquid around in his glass as he speaks. “Organized chaos.”

I glance around, seeing the space as he might. The oriental carpet, the beige sofa, the colorful chandelier. It’s an eclectic mix of everything I like.

“That’s me,” I say. “Organized but chaotic.”

“So I’m learning.”

“What’s your place like?” I take a step back, sweeping my gaze over his six-foot-two form just as appraisingly as he just had. Dressed in all black, with his dark hair and even darker eyes… “Let me guess. It’s utilitarian. Nothing frivolous, nothing unnecessary.”

His lip curls. “Are you making assumptions again, Blair?”

“I have to. I told you, I know so little about you.”Belongs to (N)ôvel/Drama.Org.

He reaches out and tips my head back. My breath quickens at the intensity in his eyes. “And I told you-you know plenty.”

A million questions flit through my mind. Why does he keep everyone at an arm’s-no, a football-field’s-length distance? There’s so much I want to know, and nothing I can ask.

I step closer, reaching up to run my hand tentatively through his short, dark hair. It’s silky to the touch. “It wasn’t hollow at all,” I murmur, running my nails over his scalp. “Us, I mean. In the closet.”

The furrow in his brow relaxes. How easy it would be, I think, if our communication was only done by touch.

“No, it wasn’t.” His hands close around my hips, dipping his head. “And it won’t be this time either.”

He kisses me forcefully, expertly, punctuating his words. Desire sweeps through me with the touch of his lips, the brief intrusion of his tongue, the power coiled in his muscles.

He’s more man than anyone I’ve been with before.

I take his glass and break apart just long enough to set both of ours down. He keeps his gaze locked on mine the entire time. Can dark eyes swim with need? His seem to.

Nick’s hands skim down my sides and grips my thighs, lifting me up. “Bedroom?”

“Down the hall.”

The ease with which he carries me completely sweeps away my resolution to make him come undone-my great plan for turning the tables this time. To wrest control away from him.