The Billionaire’s Bride by L. Steele

22

Baron

I push away from the desk where I’ve spent the last few hours working on my investments. I’d taken this room, which had been set up with a desk and a chair, and claimed it as my study. I’d needed a space where I could devote myself to the task of growing my assets.

All these years, I’ve been happy to coast along. The money that I’ve made through being a co-owner of 7A investments, along with the rest of the Seven, has been more than sufficient to take care of my needs. I haven’t worked a day since I left the army—other than starting a security company with Archer, but I hardly consider that work—and yet, I am a billionaire…

Only, it’s not enough now. I want more. I want to make enough to ensure that Ava never lacks for anything. I want to make so much money that my children and their children will have more than enough to have their every wish fulfilled. Some may say that’s too much, that ultimately kids need to work for their living so they know the worth of their money, and a part of me agrees. Which is why I’ve already put a trust in place so the money I make will be held there until they come of age. It will be released to them on their eighteenth, then their twenty-first, twenty-fifth and thirtieth birthdays. Ava and my kids will not only be responsible, but they will also go on to become successful in their own rights. Whatever field they choose, whether it's a creative one like hers or a more finance-driven one like mine, they will shine. They’ll be at the top of their game. The envy of everyone else, the—

The floorboards above me creak, and I pause. I glance outside to find that it’s completely dark now. Where has the time gone? I glance at the watch on my wrist. It’s nearly nine p.m. The last I’d checked in on Ava, she’d been sleeping. I had wanted to wake her up, to feed her, but she’d been sleeping so peacefully, I had held back. Instead, we’d prepared a plate and left it in the kitchen with a note for her. I push away from the desk, rolling my shoulders as I walk out the door. The lights in the kitchen are dim, the food gone; there’s no one in the living room either.

Everything is silent, but I swear I heard the sounds of someone moving around upstairs. I take the steps two at a time, reach the landing. I peek into Ava’s room, find it’s empty. Turning, I head for Edward’s room. I glance inside and pause. He’s on the far side of the bed, under the covers, his body curled around Ava’s. Their shoulders, which is all I can see above the covers, are bare. Clearly, they are naked. His arm is curled about her waist, her head is pillowed on his arm. Their eyes are shut, their breathing even. Guess I heard them come up to bed. Had they fucked before that? While I had been working…they had been working too… Only, on each other.

I curl my fingers at my side. F-u-c-k. The blood pounds at my temples. I grind my teeth so hard that pain tears up my jaw.

It’s fine, right? This is what we agreed to. Things could unfold organically… If Ava wanted to shag him…she was entitled to. They’d had each other before I came on the picture. If Edward hadn’t called me out of the blue, I might never have met her. In a way, they belonged to each other before I came onto the scene. And in some twisted way, I owe Edward… If it weren’t for him, if he hadn't called me, I wouldn’t be here today.

I haven’t forgotten what he’s asked of me… Except, I can’t leave. Not yet. Not without giving her a chance to make up her mind. Not without allowing her to get to know me better. This isn’t just about what I want or what Edward wants… It’s also about her… And maybe it’s my greed speaking… Maybe I am being selfish for giving this a little more time, but I can’t give up on us, on her… Not yet, not when everything inside me insists that there's still a chance.

And yet, here she is… She chose to go to bed with him.

Fucking hell. I pivot, walk down the stairs to the bar in the corner of the living room. I grab the half-full bottle of whiskey, head for the study. Lift the bottle and take a healthy swig, then another. The liquor burns its way down, hitting my stomach. Warmth tingles out to my extremities. I can still feel though…

Can still sense the softness of her curves as they fill my palms, can scent the sweetness of her arousal as she falls apart under my ministrations, hear her moans as she gives in to her arousal… Fuck! My cock thickens; my groin hardens. I tilt the bottle to my mouth, chug down more of the alcohol. My throat burns as it slides down my gullet. I lower the bottle, walk over to my desk, glance at my laptop, the papers I had worked on. I had mapped out my future, planned how I was going to diversify, where I was going to focus, how I would build a life for us… I had strategized my future with her… Only, I hadn’t thought she may not want the same things as me. And clearly, she doesn’t. She’d gone to him, hadn’t she?

She’d allowed him to fuck her. She’d participated in it, and while I had agreed to this, that she could sleep with both of us while we were here, fuck, if it doesn’t bloody hurt. The band around my chest tightens, the blood pounds at my temples, and I swipe out my hand, shove the papers off the desk. My fingers touch the laptop that skids across to the edge, tilts, then falls to the ground with a thud.

A gasp reaches me from the direction of the door. The scent of jasmine infiltrates the space. I stiffen, don’t turn around as muted footsteps approach me.

She touches my arm and I stiffen.

"Baron?" she whispers, and the sound of my name on her lips... F-u-c-k. A hot sensation stabs at my chest. My guts twist. I raise the bottle to my lips, take another swig.

"Baron, are you okay?" She grips my arm and I shake off her hold.

"Go away," I say through gritted teeth. "Leave, Ava, or I swear, I won’t be responsible for what happens next."

There’s silence for a beat, another. Then, "And what if I don’t want to?" she whispers. "What if I want to be here?"

"You don’t mean it."

"I do," she insists. "I don’t want to be anywhere else.

"I saw you with him," I growl. "You didn’t seem like you wanted to be any place else."

"And now I am here."

"What do you want, Ava?"

"What do you think?"

"I am past thinking." I grit my teeth. "If I see you now, if I touch you again, I won’t be able to back off."

"Maybe I don’t want you to back off."

"You don’t know what you’re saying."

"Don’t I?" she murmurs. "Or maybe you are too scared to acknowledge what you’ll feel if you see me. It’s why you still refuse to look at me. Funny," she chuckles, "I didn’t think you were a coward Baron, you—"

I turn and freeze. "Fuck, Ava." I drag my gaze down her features, her plump breasts, her tiny waist, the sweet flesh between her legs with that narrow strip of hair that drives me insane.

"Why the fuck are you naked?" I growl.

"Why do you think?" Her lips tilt up. The minx chuckles. She actually chuckles.

"This is not funny," I growl.

"No," she wipes the smile off of her face, "it isn’t."

I chug down more whiskey, wipe the back of my hand across my face. "If you think just because you are naked, I am going to bend you over the desk and rip into your pussy—" I bare my teeth, "you are abso-fucking-lutely, right."