Page 26 of The Billionaire's Beauty

8

Griffin

I nearly runRyker down in the hallway outside my suite in my eagerness to get to Bellamy once the event’s over. We have a brief chat. He warns me about getting sued for sexual harassment. We agree that our parents didn’t exactly give us workable information about relationships when they scorched the earth during their split, so we’re both flying blind with the new ladies in our lives. He expresses surprise about the depth of my growing feelings for my personal assistant.

That makes two of us.

As if I’d risk jeopardizing my work relationship with her if I could see some other way. But I can’t. Take my word for it on that. I can’t.

I ditch Ryker as quickly as I can, desperate to see if she did as I asked.

I catch myself holding my breath as I open the door.

Huh. Funny. Me.

King of the one-night-stand and day-after-flowers combo pack.

But once again, I can’t help it. It’s one thing for me to hope Bellamy comes to my room. Something entirely different for me to discover her asleep on her side in my bed.

As though she belongs there.

I shut the door quietly, eager to savor the fantastic scene as I loosen my tie and work on getting out of these clothes.

She’s left the balcony’s French doors open, allowing the breeze to filter through the filmy white curtains. The moonlight is bright enough to put a gleam on her hair as it falls across the pillow. Her pale arms and shoulders are bare, whetting my appetite to see what, if anything, she’s wearing under the covers.

I walk to the upholstered bench at the end of the bed and use it as a staging area to get rid of my shoes and socks. My jacket, tie, shirt and undershirt. My slacks. Then I walk around to her side of the bed, sit in the reading chair, rest my elbows on my knees, my chin on my clasped hands, and study her face.

Her amazing face.

She looks young and innocent now. She is young, but I know she can be nice and wicked under the right circumstances. She seems peaceful now, even though she’s destroyed my peace in the last week or so. Her breathing is usually even, but I plan to change that. Very soon.

As soon as I give myself a stern reminder.

This woman is not for me. Not in any real sense. At best, she’s a welcome respite from the boredom and emptiness in my life. But she’s leaving soon, and I’d be a fool to forget that.

I’d be a fool to forget that the only person you can ever count on is yourself. Everyone else? They leave.

Sure, I depend on her professionally. But I plan to keep some barriers up personally. To keep trusting no one. Because if there’s one thing I know, it’s that women don’t stick around, because love is not a real thing. My mother taught me that.

Bellamy will remind me of that lesson when she leaves for law school in a couple months.

Saying goodbye will be painful, no doubt. For both of us, especially considering she’s less jaded than I am and has admitted to a longstanding crush on me. A fact that blew my mind, by the way. She’s certainly had me fooled this whole time. With a poker face like that? She needs to be out in Vegas making a killing. But the point is, as the older and ostensibly wiser member of this relationship, I have to keep my eye on the big picture and maintain my perspective here.

Hell, even if she stuck around in New York, she’d get wise to me sooner or later. She’d get tired of my gruff bullshit and moody silences. How she hasn’t lost her temper with me at the office and punched me in the jaw by now is anyone’s guess. But one day she’ll have enough of me. She’ll give me a big Fuck you, asshole sendoff, leave me to my lonely existence and head off in search of some nice guy to settle down with. Which she deserves.

So this thing right here? This ache in the dead center of my chest when I look at her? The unbearable lightness I feel when she laughs with me? The newfound and inexplicable sense of satisfaction and homecoming I feel when she walks into a room? None of it will last. I’ll either destroy it or it will die a natural death when she moves to the other side of the country.

That’s the sad bottom line that I need to remember at all costs. Bellamy and I will inevitably go our separate ways. Period. End of our story.

But I’m here now. She’s here now. Even better? She’s not wise to me and my bullshit just yet. Maybe, if we navigate this right, we can both emerge relatively unscathed.

The upshot? I plan to take full advantage of the situation while the wind continues to blow in my direction.

That being the case, I take a quick shower and check my condom supply in my nightstand drawer.

Then I slide into bed and spoon her up.

She’s thrilling. Thrilling. Everything about her wakes me up and makes me feel alive in a way I’ve never been before. Her warmth. Her nakedness. Her soft pliability as she eagerly snuggles back against me, settling that sweet ass against my crotch. The fresh scent of her silky hair. Her unintelligible murmur of encouragement as she turns her head to receive my kiss. The way she eagerly opens for me, letting me gorge on her mouth as though it’s possible for me to ever get enough of her.

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