Billionaires Dollar Series

“No,” he says, “it isn’t.”

People had asked me plenty of times if Liam and I were together. He must have gotten the same questions… and eventually it got easier not to walk to school together in the mornings.

His hand smooths up my back, soft strokes that make my skin feel like burnished silk.

“We signed Walker Steel a few days ago,” he says. “It should be in the papers as soon as it gets official.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Plenty of people will wonder why Porter, Park and Carter were allowed to invest when others haven’t been.”

“And it’s because of you,” I say.

His chest rises under my hand as he takes a deep breath. “And you. I’m sorry you won’t get any credit in the newspapers.”

I snort. “I don’t want credit.”

“No, I know you don’t. Which is probably why you deserve it more than most.”

A thought strikes me. “Is part of this about… about Ethan?”

“Why you work so hard, I mean. Is it that you feel you have to… prove something?”

Liam doesn’t answer right away. I can’t make out his expression in the darkness, so I just listen to the sound of his quiet breathing.

“It’s the only way I can compete,” he says finally.

I wet my lips. “Is there a competition, though?”

“There always has been. My earliest memories are of running and trying to catch up with him, already far ahead of me.”

“Has he ever-”

“Made me feel like I have to compete? Of course not. That’s not Ethan’s way.” Liam gives a low laugh, but it doesn’t sound amused. “He’s perfect in most ways. The ideal son and brother, the daring entrepreneur and inspiring boss.”

“He’s not perfect.”

“I know he’s not. He knows he’s not. Everyone else, it seems, doesn’t.” Liam’s voice is calm, measured. Like this is one of the natural laws of the universe.

I press my palm against his breastbone, hard underneath the skin. Trying to reach his heart. “You can’t live your life in reaction to someone. You have to live it for someone.”

Long fingers wrap around mine. “And who do you live your life for?”

“Myself,” I murmur. “My family. My community. For someone else, one day, perhaps.”

“A man?”

“Maybe, but I don’t know.” I rest my head against his neck, my lips touching against the skin. “I think I’m done living my life based on the dictates of a boyfriend.”

Liam’s hand tightens around my waist. “Of course you are. You were never meant to be dictated to in the first place.”

I kiss his shoulder, smoothing my hand down his taut stomach. “So you signed the Walker deal.”

“Does this mean I’m out of business as a fake fiancée?”

“I don’t-oh. Mmmm.” My hand is lower, teasing the flesh growing beneath my hand. “I was meaning to ask you about that.”

“Were you?”

“There’s a party on Thursday, at Cole’s.”

“I know,” I say. “Marco’s is hired to cater.”

Liam’s voice is breathless. “Figures.”

I tighten my grip, the smooth, hard length of him moving slickly through my hand. I doubt I’ll ever tire of it.

“It’s the night before the culinary institute finals,” I say.

His voice is hoarse. “I’m aware. It’s a lot to ask, which is why I won’t.”Copyright Nôv/el/Dra/ma.Org.

“Won’t ask what?”

“That you accompany me to the party.”

“Will Albert Walker be there?”

“He might, but it’s not confirmed yet.” He turns his face to mine, hips bucking slightly. “Lord, how are you so good at that?”

“You’ve taught me what you like.” To emphasize my point, I twist my hand when I reach the swollen head. Liam curses against my cheek, making me smile. “So you’re asking me to go as your date?”

His breathing quickens. “You’re going to make me define what we are while you literally have my balls in hand?”

“Seems as good a time as any,” I tease.

He turns over in the darkness, but I don’t let him go. He pushes my legs wide and kneels in the space between them.

“Yes,” he says, hands tightening on my thighs. “I want you to accompany me as my date. But only if you want to, and only if it won’t interfere with your test the next day.”

In the darkness, his face is cast in shadows, the muscled chest just a wall of man. But his voice is clear and sincere.

“I’ll go,” I murmur, reaching up to twine my arms around his neck. “Of course I will, Liam.”

His kiss is deep, probing, as if it’s not enough to have my words as confirmation. My fingers twine in his hair as if they’re returning home, pulling him down on top of me.

He might have called missionary uninteresting, but there’s nothing I want more than his body on top of mine, bearing me down into the mattress.

Liam feels the same way, apparently, because he pushes into me bare with a groan that tugs at the very fibers of my being. It’s the second time we’ve had sex this night, and like before, the second time is slower.