The Billionaire Dating Game: A Romance Novel Read online

  His other hand came up to my chin and his fingertips ran lightly along my cheek, back behind my ear. He threaded his fingers through my hair as he cupped the back of my head. Then his mouth was on mine, and his other hand was clasping the small of my back. Every part of me burned as he arched me against his body.

  His lips were hard and urgent, but he wasn’t only kissing me with his lips. He was kissing me with every part of himself—his hands, his arms, his chest. As he deepened the kiss, I felt him press against my thigh, hard and wanting.

  I gasped at the intimacy of the touch, but the gasp was swallowed by his kiss. The electricity that had crackled in the air between us had met, the connection points arching energy through my nerves. It was late, but I suddenly felt more awake than I had in a long time. Each touch of his awakened a new part of my body.

  Every bit of my mind was sent whirling away, and all that was left was pure sensation. His hand, strong and kneading at the small of my back. His arms like iron vises keeping me from falling. His chest, broad and muscled, turning me against the wall. I was vaguely aware of a small, greedy noise in my throat and then I realized that it was me, whimpering, pushing up against him, needing more.

  He cupped my ass, squeezing, and I fell apart inside. I was wet, melting from the heat he was sending through my body. This—this was what I wanted. Someone who could take me in his arms and make me forget that the world existed. Forget maturity. Forget intellect. This was pure, physical need, and his kiss promised me complete satisfaction.

  I don’t know how long he kissed me. It might have been a few seconds or a few minutes. Whatever it was, it wasn’t enough. And I realized what I had been scared of, why I hadn’t wanted to give him permission to kiss me.

  I was scared of the desire that he awakened with the press of his hot lips. I was scared of the need that coursed through my veins, insistent and wanting.

  I was scared that I needed more.

  When he finally lifted his lips from mine, my knees were trembling. I leaned against the wall, unwilling to show how weak I was. From his smile, though, I could tell he knew what he had done to me. I tried to catch my breath as he loosened his grip from around me. His hands still rested on my waist, one on each hip. The touch of his fingers seemed to burn through the thin fabric of my dress.

  I stared up into his eyes. The irises sparkled green-blue, like a stormy sky reflected off of a skyscraper. And I was struck with an intense desire. I reached up to his mask.

  He caught me by the wrist.

  “Please,” I said, my voice suddenly small and uncertain. “Show me your face.”

  His mouth twisted, and he looked from side to side. The only people on the street now were the hipsters, who had come out and were walking away from the coffee shop. Finally, he nodded.

  He slipped his hand under the mask and tipped it up, revealing his face.

  His features were dark and defined. His eyebrows slanted down on his smooth forehead, and his nose and cheekbones were all strong lines. I don’t know what I’d expected, but I hadn’t expected this. He was attractive enough to be a magazine model. His light eyes searched mine.

  “Well?” He seemed to be expecting something.

  “Well what?”

  His brows arched quizzically and a strand of his dark hair fell forward onto his face.

  “Is that all you have to say?”

  I laughed nervously.

  “I don’t know what you were worried about,” I said. “You’re definitely not the ugliest man in existence.”

  His words stopped on his tongue and he shook his head, like I had given the wrong answer.

  “Is it the freckle on your left cheek?” I asked, letting a teasing note come into my voice. “You shouldn’t be so self-conscious about it. I mean, everybody has a freckle or two. Not me, of course, but then again, you did want me to look better by comparison—”

  The man let the mask snap back on his face as two girls came laughing out of the coffee shop. He watched them go, then turned back to me.

  “What’s your name?” he asked. There was an urgency in his voice that hadn’t been there before. His nervousness was contagious. I hitched my purse up higher on my shoulder. What was I doing here, kissing a complete stranger? It was insane.

  “What’s yours? Zorro?”

  “I’m not telling you,” he said flatly.

  “Fine,” I said. “Then you can hardly expect me to tell you—”

  “What’s your name?” His mouth was a hard line on his face and his hand pressed against my hip.

  “Look, I have to go. Really. Thank—thank you for the kiss.” My whole body was hot and flushing, and I couldn’t believe what I’d done. I pushed lightly at his arm. He seemed to realize that he was still holding me and let go abruptly.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “It’s just—never mind.” He ran a hand through his dark hair. “Never mind. It’s nothing. Have a good night, okay?”

  I stepped away from him. The air was suddenly cold on my skin.

  Crazy. This whole night had been crazy. I needed to get home. I turned to leave. Where was the nearest metro station?

  “This was just a kiss,” he called out after me. I turned to see him standing in the middle of the sidewalk, watching me walk away. Black suit, black mask, black hair. And eyes like the sky.

  “Right,” I said, and a strange feeling went through my chest, pressing down on my heart. “Just a kiss.”

  Just a kiss.

  It doesn’t mean anything.

  Chapter Three

  I trudged back up the stairs to the apartment and pushed the door open. Mac darted across the room and wound himself around my ankles, purring. I reached down to pet him and only touched the tip of his bushy gray tail before he darted away again.

  “Thanks, Mac,” I muttered. “Guess I can’t keep any guy interested in me.”

  I bit my lip as my thoughts drifted back to the guy in the mask. I hadn’t stopped thinking about that kiss the whole way back.

  “Lah!” Arlen cried, waving a fist in the air.

  “Good to see you, too, Princess Arlen,” I said, smiling as she toppled backwards into Emma’s lap in a fit of coughing.

  “Hey, lamebutt,” Emma said, kicking me lightly in the ass as I walked by the reclined couch. She had a jar of applesauce open, and half of it was already on her blouse.

  “Hey, dorkface. What are you two doing up?”

  “Arlen woke me up and insisted that we watch a Project Runway marathon. Didn’t you, baby?”

  “LAH!”

  The TV blared about dresses and models and which super gorgeous woman looked best in their super gorgeous outfits. I wondered idly if I could ever judge a fashion show without going on a murder spree.

  “There’s mac and cheese in the microwave for you.” Emma lay back on the cushions and tried to interest Arlen in a spoonful of applesauce. Arlen swatted it away.

  “You are a blessing in a world filled of cruelty, my dear sister,” I said, heading over to punch a minute into the microwave. I dumped a can of catfood into Mac’s dish and he came running.

  “Bad date?” my sister asked.

  I sank back onto the countertop that separated the kitchen from the rest of the apartment.

  “It was… rough.”

  “Not Mr. Right?”

  Instantly I pictured his face in my head. Not Daniel’s. The man in the mask. When he’d pulled up the mask, I’d seen his eyes searching mine for something. An answer to a question he hadn’t asked.

  I wondered what he was looking for.

  “Hello? Lisa?”

  “Lah!”

  Arlen’s voice snapped me back to reality.

  “Huh? Yeah. I mean no, he wasn’t Mr. Right. He was Mr. Very, Very Wrong.”

  “Then why were you twirling your hair just now?”

  “What?”

  “Whenever you’re thinking about a guy you like, you futz with your hair.”

  I flushed. My fingers flew back down to
the countertop and gripped the fork for my mac and cheese.

  “I just need to trim my bangs, that’s all.”

  “Oh my gosh! You did like that guy!” Emma sat up, suddenly alert. “Tell me about it! What happened?”

  “No, no, no. It wasn’t my date,” I said, embarrassed to talk about it.

  “Then who?”

  “There was this guy performing, and I saw him after the show…”

  The memory of the man’s hot kiss burned on my lips. The way his hands had come around my waist, drawing me close. Like he wanted to pull us together completely. Like he needed the same thing I did.

  I shook my head, getting rid of the thought.

  “It was nothing,” I said.

  “Don’t you lie to me,” she said, and waved the applesauce spoon in my direction. “Little sisters know when you’re lying. Who is this guy?”

  “He’s a nut,” I said. “A handsome nut, but definitely a nut.”

  “And why are you blushing?”

  I stuck a fork of mac and cheese into my mouth so that I wouldn’t have to answer, but Emma was already hot on the trail.

  “He kissed me.”

  “He what?!”

  “It was just a kiss,” I said, echoing the guy’s last words to me. “He was attractive and that was it.”

  “Lisa, you haven’t kissed a guy in forever!”

  “It hasn’t been forever!” I protested.

  “It’s been like, six months.”

  “That’s not forever.”

  “It’s almost forever,” she amended. “Okay, so spill. What did he look like?”

  I thought of how he’d stepped up on stage. So perfectly confident in front of a roomful of people. The way his strong arms had strained his suit when he leaned against the wall. How could I describe the way he’d made me feel when he looked down at me from the stage?

  “Um, he was tall. And, like, muscle-y.”

  “Muscle-y?” My sister raised her eyebrows.

  “And he had really nice eyes,” I said. “Light blue-green eyes.”

  “What about his hair?”

  “Uh, dark hair. Dark brown, almost black.” I thought of the dark stubble on his chin and how it had rasped against my skin when he kissed me harder. Heat pulsed through my body. I knew exactly who I would be thinking about tonight when I touched myself in the bathtub.

  It was harmless, I told myself. Just a mini-crush on a guy I’d never meet again in my life. One kiss, that was all.

  One unforgettable kiss.

  Emma snapped her fingers at me.

  “Yeah? What?”

  “I said, what does he do for work? What’s his name?”

  I blushed even harder. Emma dropped the applesauce spoon into her lap.

  “Oh my GOD! You don’t even know his name? Lisa, you slut!” She burst into laughter.

  “It was just a kiss!” I said.

  “That is amazing!”

  “Amazing? Really?” I put my hands on my hips.

  “This is so totally unlike you!” She was nearly hysterical with laughter, and I couldn’t help smiling a bit. “Oh man, Lisa, you just made my day!”

  “I’m glad that having a kiss-slut for a sister is all it takes to make your day,” I said, suppressing my grin.

  “Are you going to see him again?”

  I shook my head.

  “I don’t really have time to date right now, anyway. With how busy I am at work…” I trailed off. Emma had heard all my excuses before.

  Tonight, though, she didn’t push me.

  “Well, hurray for breaking the no-kiss streak, anyway!” she said. “Good for you, big sister!”

  Arlen, wanting to join in the celebration, grabbed up the spoon and waved it around, conducting an invisible, applesauce-covered orchestra. A lump of applesauce flew across the room and splatted on the TV screen. Emma took the spoon away from her, and she started bawling.

  “Aww,” Emma said, grabbing a napkin to wipe up the mess.

  “Need me to clean her up?” I asked. I was somewhat grateful that Arlen had provided a distraction from the conversation. I really didn’t want to talk about kissing a perfect stranger anymore. I couldn’t explain what had made me do it. Even worse, I couldn’t explain what made me like it.

  “Sure,” Emma said. “I think she’s coming down with another cold.”

  “Another one?”

  “I don’t know. She’s been cranky all day, and she started coughing again.”

  As though on cue, Arlen coughed once, then buried her face in Emma’s chest, still wailing. I picked her up and hoisted her up onto my hip. She protested weakly, swatting her tiny fists against my arm.

  “Bathtime for you, princess pie,” I said. Then, to Emma: “She’s getting heavy.”

  “She’ll be a year old… what, next month?”

  “A year old! Almost a grownup.”

  “Almost to the terrible twos.”

  “This princess will never be terrible. Will you, baby?”

  Arlen was the sweetest baby, always had been. It was only when she got sick that she started crying. I kissed her on the top of her head. Her silky light-brown hair was already starting to grow out longer.

  “Careful,” Emma said. “I don’t want you coming down with what she’s got.”

  “I’ll take my chances,” I said. “I can’t imagine I haven’t already been exposed to those germs a hundred times over.”

  “Thanks, sis.”

  Emma plopped back on the couch and rubbed her eyes. She looked utterly exhausted. Normally I took over taking care of the baby in the evenings, but today she’d been on duty all day. Reason number seventeen why I shouldn’t be spending my free time dating. Which reminded me…

  “Did Joey’s check come today?” I asked casually.

  “Ugh. No.”

  “You should—”

  “I should call him, I know, I know,” Emma said. “Look, I didn’t have time to call him today. Maybe tomorrow, if it doesn’t come then. Okay?”

  “Okay,” I said, not pushing the issue. I knew she hated talking to her ex. But rent was due in four days, and his check was already a week overdue.

  She saw the worry on my face.

  “I promise, Lisa,” she said. “Tomorrow.”

  “Great!” I said, forcing a brightness into my voice. “No problem!”

  I could tell that she didn’t want to talk about it. Emma blamed herself for getting knocked up by a guy who ran away. It was the same thing that had happened to Mom, she said. She had made the same mistake all over again. She won’t have two parents, Emma had complained. She doesn’t even have grandparents. She only has me.

  Who am I, chopped liver? I’d told her. We’ll be her parents. Together.

  I tried to live up to my end of the bargain, but holding down a full time job at the same time was tricky. I had no idea how my mom had managed it for so long.

  By the time I finished with Arlen’s bath, Emma was passed out cold on the couch. I set Arlen down next to her and she instinctively drew her arm around the little girl, pulling her into a snuggle.

  I tucked a blanket over both of them and lay down on the reclined couch next to them. Our apartment didn’t have room for both a bed and a couch, so this was the most comfortable solution we had found. And Arlen loved sleeping between the two of us.

  “Lah!” Arlen said softly.

  “Yeah, you and me both, baby,” I said, chucking the little girl under the chin and readjusting the blanket around her.

  “Sorry your date sucked,” Emma said.

  “Yeah. You know what?”

  “What?” Emma mumbled sleepily.

  “Between you guys and a blind date, I’d rather be here with you.”

  “Honestly?”

  “Honestly.”

  Emma smirked, her eyes still closed.

  “That’s so lame.”

  “Yeah. I know.”

  “You’re so lame.”

  “Yeah.” I sighed. “I know.”


  “Love you, lamebutt,” she said.

  “Love you too, dorkface,” I said.

  I propped my pillow behind my head and opened my laptop. Hopefully I could get this article finished before I went to sleep.

  I made the mistake of checking my email. There were three messages from my boss in my inbox, and two of them were labeled URGENT. Neither one of them was really urgent, but I plodded through everything he wanted me to do. By the time midnight rolled around, I hadn’t even written a single word for the new article.

  Mac leapt up onto the couch and sat right on top of my laptop keyboard, purring loudly. If that wasn’t a sign to stop working, I didn’t know what was. I put my laptop away on the floor, and the fat gray cat curled into my lap, kneading his paws on my thigh.

  “Just like a guy,” I murmured, stroking his soft gray fur. “All you want to do is jump straight into bed. No foreplay, huh, buddy?”

  He purred in satisfied agreement. And I thought of the man in the mask, the one whose voice had turned me to Jello on the inside. The one who had kissed me. I let out a small contented sigh. A good kiss was worth it. Even if he was a crazy nut wearing a mask, it was worth it.

  Emma was asleep, her body curled protectively around Arlen. Both of them were snoring softly, and Arlen had her mouth slightly open, her rosebud lips pinker than normal. I let myself drift into slumber alongside them, my thoughts finding again the reflective gaze of two green-blue eyes behind a black mask and the heat of two strong hands pressing against my hips.

  In the darkness, under the ever-present rumblings of the city, you could almost hear the sound of three girls sleeping.

  Chapter Four

  “Why haven’t I found Mr. Right yet?” I asked. My pen tapped idly against my knee and I ate another gummi bear. Normally the little sugar rushes would propel me through an article, but this one was proving difficult.

  I leaned backward in my chair and called out the door. “Help me out with this, Jessica!”

  “Um, maybe it’s because Mr. Right is out drinking at the Tavern and you’re still here at work,” Jessica said. She leaned against the door frame, two steaming cups of coffee in her hands. “And before you say anything, Robert is on a double shift today, so we’re both working late. I have an excuse for being a boring workaholic.”