Page 37 of The Billionaire's Promise

MAGNOLIA

Vance was right. I was a coward. A big, giant wimp. I couldn't think straight when he kissed me. That was why I always ran away afterward. The second he touched me, my brain melted out of my ears and all I wanted was more.

One of us had to think straight. I adored Vance. I respected him. And I'm not discounting how hard he'd worked on his sobriety when I say that he was impulsive and used to getting what he wants, when he wants it—a side effect of being raised in a wealthy, powerful family. When it came to business, Vance analyzed every angle for potential repercussions. Not so much in his personal life.

Rosie had bought me some time, and as I escaped up the stairs, I planned to use it to think about how to handle Vance. That plan didn't work. Rosie had other ideas. She was squirming restlessly in her crib, her cheeks hot and snot running down her face.

Poor baby girl. It took me a while to get her cleaned up, and then she couldn't settle down. The next twelve hours were a blur of pacing and rocking and pleading for her to get some sleep.

I don't know how single parents do it. A lot of the time, I was fine when it was just Rosie and me. Most of the time, she was a good baby, sweet and easy to please. Then there were the times when she was fussy and feverish, and she sneezed so hard she managed to get snot and vomit in my hair. At times like that, it was a blessing to hand her to Vance and take a break.

We passed her back and forth all night, sneaking in cat naps in between worrying and walking. Her fever cycled up and down until sometime just before dawn, when it broke, leaving her covered in a light sweat but finally able to sleep.

Together, we gave her a sponge bath and settled her in her crib. Vance sent me to bed first, and I was mostly asleep when I felt the mattress dip beside me and the covers shift. I cracked an eye just in time to see Vance lay his head on the pillow beside mine.

"Go to sleep, " he whispered. "You can yell at me in the morning."

I would. He had his own bed. What was he doing in mine? I was totally going to yell at him in the morning. Or maybe in the afternoon, because it was already morning and I just wanted to sleep.

I was vaguely aware of sounds from the crib, pale sunlight leaking into my bedroom and movement beside me. Then it was quiet again, and I drifted back to sleep.

I dreamed of heat and Vance. I came awake slowly to find myself draped across his body, my cheek pressed to his chest, one leg hooked over his hips, and the insistent jut of his erection against my thigh.

He’d wrapped one arm around my back, his fingers possessively gripping my ass. With his free hand, he stroked my arm, his fingertips light on my skin, barely there, moving from my shoulder to my elbow, to my wrist and back again.

It was an innocent touch. Almost nothing. I was the one draped all over him. That didn't matter. I was seduced and I wasn't even awake. I tried to get my mind in gear. What was I going to do?

Vance was half naked. I wore a thin nightshirt. We were in bed. It wasn't going to take much to escalate this. I had two choices—run away, or make a move.

So, what would it be? Was I going to keep running? I thought about it, thought about what that had gotten me so far. I wanted Vance. He was right about that. I’d been lusting over him since the first day we'd met. This was my chance to find out what had all those women coming back for more.

But he was my best friend. Having sex with him was a bad idea. A really bad idea. So bad that I still don't know why I lifted my head and stared into Vance's blue eyes. They were hot with arousal and very much awake.

"Do you want me to go?" he asked, and I knew if I said I did, he would go. I told him the truth.

"No, I don't want you to go."

To my surprise, he hesitated. Maybe if he’d pounced on me, it would've shaken my resolve, but that hesitation, that hint that he might be as worried about this as I was, convinced me. I kissed him. Now that I’d decided to stop running, I didn't want to wait anymore.

Vance's hand on my ass tightened, and he hauled me on top of him, my legs spreading over his hips, cradling his erection between my thighs. His mouth on mine, he fisted his hands in my cotton nightshirt and swept it up my torso and over my head, leaving me straddling him, naked except for a pair of plain white cotton panties.

"If you could stay right there for the rest of my life, I think I'd be in heaven," Vance said, his hot, hungry eyes taking in every inch of my bare skin. I started to flush with self-conscious embarrassment.

Vance was perfect, his body all silky skin and steely muscle, without any flaws I could see. I was in better shape since we'd started jogging together, but I wasn't taut or lithe, and my abs didn't have a hint of definition aside from my belly button.

Vance learned my body with his hands, stroking from my knees to my hips and up my waist to close around the sides of my breasts, pressing them together for a moment before stroking his thumbs over my nipples.

"Fucking beautiful, Magnolia. You're fucking beautiful. I've been imagining you naked for two years, but reality doesn't even come close."

I opened my mouth to protest. His eyes flicked to my face and he scowled. "Don't say a fucking word, Sugar."

I wanted to tell him not to call me Sugar, but his fingertips squeezed my hard nipples and thought fled from my mind. He could call me whatever he wanted if he did that again.

"Nothing I say is going to get through to you.” He sat up in a surge of muscle, taking me with him and flipping me to my back. "I'm going to have to show you how much I love your body. Maybe then, you'll get it."

He did. Whatever Brayden and I had been doing in bed, whatever it was that we called sex… clearly, we'd been doing it wrong. Vance settled himself between my thighs and cupped my breasts in his palms, pressing them together, bringing first one nipple, then the other to his mouth.

He started gently, trailing his tongue over my breasts, teasing, waking every nerve, his fingers as busy as his mouth until my breasts were swollen, my nipples hard red beads. I couldn't remember ever being so aroused, so needy, and his hands had stayed above my waist.