Page 18 of The Billionaire's Beauty

And it’s not just that the sex was great. Sex, in my experience, is always pretty damn great. This sex was… It was…

Extraordinaryis too big a word to apply to something as natural and commonplace as sex. Unprecedented is also too big.

But it was. I’m telling you, it was.

The taste of her mouth. Her skin. Her sweet pussy. The feel of her.

Am I supposed to forget about all that just because she apparently has?

Can someone help me out with that? Because I’m not managing it too well on my own.

Worst of all was that period after, when we just lay together and stared at each other. I know it sounds ridiculous, but I felt a connection to her in that arrested moment. A strong connection.

What the fuck is up with that? I don’t connect with people. Nor do I think woo-woo thoughts about connecting with people.

But here I am.

Stuck. Miserable. Desperate to spend time with her again, my condition made all the worse because she’s reverted to Forest, my trusty assistant, and hasn’t shown me one flicker of acknowledgment or lingering interest this week. It’s as though she had her moment with me and has now put me firmly in her rearview mirror. I thought I was okay with that. Or could be okay with it, given enough time. But a week has passed and, swear to God, I feel like I’m unraveling. As though I’m one hangnail away from losing control and flipping desks all over the executive floor.

I can’t keep going like this. I need to do something. Hence the lies and subterfuge.

Hey. Don’t judge. I never said I was a prince.

“Whoa,” my brother says, now regarding me with unmistakable concern. “This is worse than I thought.”

You think?

“I don’t need the psychoanalysis,” I snap. “You gonna help me out or not?”

“Fine,” he says wearily. “Just make sure this situation doesn’t come back to bite us in the ass.”

“Great.” I slap him on the shoulder, all but sagging with relief. “Owe you one. I’ll send the chopper back for you and take care of the carbon offsets.”

“Don’t do that. Let’s try to save some of the environment. I’ll just drive.”

“What happened with you and the redhead at Bemelmans, by the way?”

He tenses. “I don’t want to get into it.”

“Turned you down, did she? That’s what happens when you punch above your weight.”

“First of all, she did not turn me down.” There’s a gleam of triumph in his eyes. “Second, I just did you a favor. Seems like you could put your assholery on ice for a day or so.”

“Yeah, no,” I say, detecting the scent of blood in the water and zeroing in for the kill. Hey, it’s what brothers do. Especially when there’s something about the vague sadness in his expression. He seems almost…wistful. “You seeing her again? Or did she kick you to the curb on account of poor performance?”

“Fuck you,” he says with a little more enthusiasm than typical.

“You’re a good man,” I say, grinning as I open the door and head out. “I’m sure you’ll find someone else. Eventually.”

“Fuck. You.”

I stifle a chuckle and speed across the helipad, where the pilot is waiting for me and the rotors are kicking up some wind. Bellamy, I see with great satisfaction, is early as usual and already waiting for me inside.

“I’m the last one,” I tell the pilot, shaking his hand.

“Okay. A little overcast, but we should make good time.”

“Thanks,” I say, climbing aboard.

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