Page 21 of A Billionaire Rebel

I didn’t make a move to get up, and he didn’t let go of me. Ten seconds became twenty, became thirty, and we still sat there, neither one of us making the first move. I was aware of his clothes soaking into mine, but even that couldn’t make me move. I should have been uncomfortable, quick to get away, but I felt safe here. Protected.

I wet my lips, and his eyes dropped to my mouth. I had only a moment to realize what he was going to do, and then he was kissing me. His desperation poured into me, the need for something or someone to offer to take the pain away, to let him, for as long as possible, forget that he’d lost a friend and his life had irrevocably changed in a span of twenty-four hours.

Leaning into him, I held on to the front of his shirt, wanting more, wanting to do whatever I could to make this even the slightest bit more bearable for him. Then he pulled back, his eyes dark and breathing heavy. He didn’t push me away, but I felt him distancing himself.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have done that.” He tucked my hair behind my ear. “I came here to thank you, not take advantage of you.”

“You’re not,” I assured him. “I’m an adult and fully capable of telling you no.”

He shook his head. “I shouldn’t be seeking comfort from a stranger.”

“Knox,” I said with a soft smile. He gave me a puzzled look. “My last name, it’s Knox. I’m twenty-two and grew up here in South Houston. Now we’re not strangers.”

He laughed, but the pain and sadness never left his eyes.

I suddenly wanted that more than I’d wanted anything else. I wanted to chase those shadows away, even if only for a short while. I didn’t care that he was famous and rich, or that we’d barely spoken. He was a good man, and he was hurting.

I’d never had sex because I didn’t want it to be only about lust. It didn’t need to be love, but I wanted to feel something more than just attraction.

Compassion was more than lust or attraction. A desire to give him some sliver of peace was more.

I stood up, and he let me go. A polite mask slipped onto his face, and I put my hand on his cheek, startling him enough for it to fall away again. “Let’s get out of these wet clothes.”

I held out my hand and waited to see what he would decide.

His palm slid across mine, and long, strong fingers curled as he stood. He looked down at me, his free hand cupping my chin and keeping me from turning away.

“Are you sure this is what you want?” His thumb ran along my bottom lip. “I’m not looking for a relationship.”

I moved his hand to press my lips against his palm. He sucked in a breath, and I felt a surge of pride that I could make a man like him react that way. “Just tonight. No expectations. Nothing more than you accepting the comfort I’m offering.”

He nodded, and I led him down the dark hallway to my bedroom. Jamie and I both kept battery-operated nightlights in our bedrooms to keep Kevin from being afraid when the electricity went out, and the soft blue glow was all the light we had as I shut the door behind us.

I reached for the bottom of his shirt, knowing that if I thought too much about it, I might have second thoughts, and none of them for any real reason, just the types of fears that came with overthinking. I pushed the wet material up, feeling the muscles in his stomach jump under my fingertips, and then his hands were there too, helping.

Peeling the shirt off, he dropped it to the floor and then reached into his pants pocket for his wallet. From it, he produced a condom and set it and the wallet on my nightstand.

Even in the dim light, I could see the ink on his skin. Initials – CRH – were over his heart with a pair of dates under the letters, and when he bent over, I could see an intricate cross ran the length of his spine and across his shoulders. I had a sudden urge to trace every line.

His eyes met mine and stayed there as he undid his jeans and let them fall to the floor too. I heard him kick them away, and then he reached for my shirt. Only after I’d removed my shorts did he let his gaze drop. I did the same, drinking in the sight of him, sculpted muscles, and the perfect amount of hair. I followed the trail from his belly button down, my body clenching painfully when I reached that long, thick shaft. He was beautiful, every inch of him.

“May I touch you?” His voice was rough but low, a rumble that reminded me of distant thunder.

I nodded, not trusting myself to speak, not when the air was thick with electricity and sex. My nerves were stretched wire-thin, and my body throbbed impatiently for what it had never experienced.

He placed a hand over my breast, the heat of his skin scorching me, burning through to the place where embers were building to flame. His other hand went around my waist to the small of my back, pulling me to him as his mouth covered mine. Every place our bodies touched made me come alive in a way I never expected. His cock was hard against my stomach, his lips soft against mine. The tip of his tongue flicked against the corner of my mouth, and I opened to him. His tongue swept inside, plundering, promising.

I lost myself in his kiss, his touch. My hands explored his body, wanting to memorize every inch of him because this would never happen again, and I never wanted to forget it. When he lowered me to my bed, he held his weight off me as he dropped a hand between my legs. I gasped at his touch, and he made a pleased sound, his mouth moving down my throat. Skilled fingers stroked a place where only mine had been before, and he brought me to orgasm faster than I’d ever reached a climax on my own.

The moment I came, he took my nipple in between his lips, each pull of his mouth seeming to take a direct line through my body to where a finger had slid inside me. He eased me through my orgasm before pushing back onto his heels. I heard a ripping sound, and then he was back.

“Is this what you want?”

My brain recognized that his question wasn’t merely about consent, but about making sure that I actuallywantedthis rather than simply being okay with it. I reached up to his face, and he turned his head, kissing my palm as I’d done to him. I ran my fingers through his wet hair and then down to the back of his neck.

“I want you.” I reached down between us, taking him in my hand.

“Fuck.” His eyes closed for a second, then opened, pupils so wide that only the barest hint of blue could be seen. “Jae…”

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